The Icelandic Canadian - 01.03.2005, Síða 35

Vol. 59 #3
THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
121
Letters from Balsam Bay
by Agnes Bardal Comack
As I get older I am amazed that some
of the simple things I do bring back mem-
ories of wonderful people I have known. In
the summer at our cottage,when the
pincherries are ripe, I pick them to make
jelly. I always relate that smell and taste to
memories of my mother's eldest sister, my
Auntie Helga, who was married to Andy
Christianson.
Auntie Helga and Uncle Andy lived in
Balsam Bay, on the east shore of Lake
Winnipeg. Their's was a two story log
house. As I recall, the house had one big
room with a stairway up one wall to an
open bedroom loft. The lean-to addition
on the back of the house was the kitchen.
The most exciting object of all, to this
little city girl, was in the back yard. There
was the well. It was a low stone wall sur-
rounding a deep hole.
Braced above the hole was a log which
was turned with a crank to wind the rope
that brought up a pail full of fresh, cold,
clear water.
At the back of the lot was a shed which
housed Uncle Andy's horse. When I hear
the word 'mare,' I always think of Uncle
Andy, as he often referred to his 'mare.'
Nell was her name.
I am lucky to be in possession of letters
written from 1927 to 1929 by Uncle Andy
to my father, Arinbjorn S. Bardal. Reading
these letters, it is obvious that my Uncle
Andy was a rare and wonderful character.
Almost every letter is a “thank you” for
parcels received, but events reported reveal
the life of hardship they endured.
On Feb.2, 1928, he writes, “Just a line
to let you know I ran into hard luck.
Yesterday, I lost my old chum Nellie.
She was only sick one day. Although I did
everything I could for her, it was acute
indigestion. She ate and drank up to the
time she died and didn't seem in much
pain. Poor old Nell had to kick out just
when I was most in need of her. I hear
there's a horse for sale in Libau so I'm
going to take a trip up there on my dogs
and look him over.” Uncle Andy raised
Irish Water Spaniels. In another letter, he
wrote:
“Biddy delivered twelve pups to me
December 8, eight dogs and four females. I
killed seven of them as they were too many
for her to bring up in the cold weather and
also being her first litter. I kept four dogs
and one female.”
He offered a dog to my father,
“whichever sex” he preferred. “I will ship it
to you with all its papers from the Ottawa
Kennel Club. A better stock can't be got in
all of Canada - champions of the world on
both sides.” Then he offered some advice.
“I kept the female special for you because if
you have her split by a Vetenary (sic),
which cost one dollar, you have a one
man's dog that will never leave your house.
No one can use her but yourself. A dog will
follow anyone with a gun, then run around
when females are in season. Let me know.
I'm going to make dam good and sure you
have a duck dog for next fall's hunt.” (I
remember we ended up with the female.
'Patsy ' was her name.)
In another letter he wrote: “I had the
misfortune of losing my calf last night. I
tied him along side his mother and she
must have got sore at him during the night
because I found him with his neck broken
in the manger this morning.”
In the letters there are references to
attempts to get across the muskeg to get at
'your deers.' I presume my father had been
deer hunting. There had been several
attempts and Uncle Andy was hoping to
get the deer carcasses across the lake where
my father would meet him. “I can get them
as far as Selkirk at least,” he wrote. I will
phone you the day before I leave so you
can meet me at Paul Magnusson's at