Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Canada. Show all posts

Monday, August 22, 2016

High Rider by Bill Gallaher


He started life as a slave in South Carolina and became one of the pioneering cattlemen in that part of Canada’s North West Territories which eventually became the Province of Alberta.
            In 1867 with the US Civil War at and end John Ware struck off to the west, a new land and a new life. Due to his unsurpassed ability to break and train mules he found work on a ranch near Fort Worth where he remained for a decade. Eventually he went north as the horse wrangler on a cattle herd, lost good friends and found others, panned for gold, became a drover again and rode into Canada.
            This is a novel but as is usual with Bill Gallaher’s work it is well researched and faithfully follows the life of one of Canada’s pioneers. John Ware is a legend among those who study the history of horse trainers, cattlemen, bronc riders and the beef industry. With his entertaining and informative writing Gallaher should be.

            High Rider by Bill Gallaher is deserving of high praise and as many stars as are available.







Monday, December 7, 2015

A few more weapons from Canada's past

In an earlier post I mention the Adams revolver that the North West Mounted Police were originally issued and that they eventually wound up with the Colt SA Army but over the years they have been subject to a variety of “issue” weapons.

My “Cattle Business” story which might see release in 2016 and tells a story from 1896 (yes, as usual there are some historical aspects) mentions several weapons. Within that story is mention of the British military and the Enfield revolver they issued (and used by some NWMP officers). The Adams and Enfield were replaced by the Colt SA Army and within a few years by the Colt Double Action Army. The first issue of the DA Army was in .44-40 to offer continuance of cartridge but then the .38 Smith & Wesson Special or .38 Special became popular and later Colt DAAs were in that cartridge. Eventually the Smith & Wesson Model 10 became the standard for many police forces.
Enfield Mk II .476
Replaced by the Colt Frontier Double Action (Model 1895)
Replaced by the S&W Model 10



In 1885 the Remington – Lee was being sold in .45 – 70 Government in North America and in at least two other calibers world wide. It has been called the first “modern military” rifle and was supplanted by another weapon with the James Lee magazine, the Lee Enfield, primarily in .303 British.

The armorers who train and advise the RC Mounted Police come from a variety of backgrounds. Their training and what they attempt to pass on to police officers is unsurpassed. However they are subject to pressure from politicians looking for votes and caring little for practical requirements and find themselves issuing weapons that at best are only marginal for the task.
Such is the case with a weapon chambered for either a .38 S&W Special or 9mm; a perfectly adequate cartridge for a trained officer in an urban setting but outclassed by several other cartridges in a rural setting.
I mentioned Elmer Keith in an earlier post and his attachment to both the .357 Magnum and the .44 Magnum. Keith was a prospector, cowboy, guide and hunter who over-loaded .38 Special brass back in the late 1920s which resulted in the development of the .357 cartridge and the discovery that it was by far the caliber best suited for most rural police forces. Later Keith overloaded .44 Special cartridges in his Colt SA Army for the hunting of Elk and deer.
That is to say, several Colt SAAs since his hot loads tended to break the top strap at the front of the cylinder and destroy the weapon even though he was successful most years with his hand-gun hunting.
Keith went to several companies attempting to have them design a .44 brass slightly longer than the .44 Special and eventually Remington agreed to do so. Then he went to S&W and convinced them to make the S&W Model 29 in .44 Magnum which they did. However, Bill Ruger heard about the impending release of the new pistol cartridge intended for hunting and released the Ruger Super Blackhawk before the S&W Model 29 made it to sales.
A stainless steel Ruger Blackhawk .357 M
A nickled (except for the cylinder) Ruger Super Blackhawk in .44M
Note the heavy top straps.


Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Review of GLW from Cold Coffee Cafe

Cold Coffee Cafe has just posted their review of The Great Liquor War and I present it here/ The first part, that which appears under the cover picture is the press release . Following that is the review which includes a short excerpt. They also offer a connection to access but an even easier method is to click on the book covers to the right.

 Just Released!
The year is 1885. Hank James has been in Canada several months panning gold from a stream near Roswell, British Columbia. When he hears a prizefight will be held in town, he attends along with everyone for miles around. With a little help from the fight referee, he wins big betting on the fight. Having realized that the life of a miner isn't nearly as romantic or rewarding as he expected, and with advice from the policeman who helped him win money on the fight, Hank goes to Farwell to haul freight with pack horses for contractors building the transcontinental railroad.
The railroad's security, a detachment of North West Mounted Police, have maintained across the West that no liquor be allowed one mile on either side of the rail bed. Provincial authorities disagree. Hank James believes in honoring and repaying his debts, but that doesn't mean he should be involved in a war between the BC Provincial Police and the North West Mounted.
He and his partners have trouble enough running their freight business, they don't need to be caught between competing policemen. They are already stuck between Canada's transcontinental railroad people and the contractors doing the actual construction. While the police are fighting one another, who is looking for criminals, particularly those stealing Hank's horses? Despite a variety of jobs, D.M. McGowan now works as a commercial driver and lives near Mile "0" of the world-famous Alaska Highway.
His stories bring Canadian history to life. "I believe in seeing morality and societal responsibility rewarded. Too much of today's fiction seems to lead into the dark instead of the light."
Great Liqour War by D. M. McGowan is a western pioneering era saga that combines great story telling, true-to-life cowboy experience with US and Canadian history combined with legends from the 1800’s.
The main character Hank James was born in Canada and migrated south into the US with his family after the Civil War. Hank’s father headed towards Oregon in search of a farmstead while protecting his family from raids by outlaws and Indians. They made it as far as Kansas to find that the land was too dry to farm so pushed on to Oregon to find the land was too wet. With Mother Nature as their biggest obstacle and many mouths to feed young Hank James set out on his own. He settled down with his own gold mine claim near Rossland, British Columbia in 1984.
Hank wasn’t afraid of hard work, but he wanted more out of life than to eke out a living on his claim. With tenacity Hank took advantage of the Transcanada Railroad, found some partners and started his own freight business. Life should be good, but where there is industry, technology, commerce and economy, there are criminals.
In all my reviews I quote a passage so readers can get a feel for the authors writing style. I quote from page 37.
“It didn’t take a detective to know that the horse thief had played a little joke on the Provincial Police. Constable Art Hubbard was over six feet tall and probably ten pounds lighter than the one eighty mentioned in the description. Not only was he a long way from round, he was also clean shaven.
I gave Constable Hubbard my story, ending with the recovery of the bay gelding and the description I had from Miller. “An’ the fella called himself Art Hubbard,” I added.
The Constable’s expression didn’t change. He worked his chew around into one cheek and sent a stream of tobacco juice into the waste basket. “Feller with a sense o’ humor,” he noted, and then added. “It’ll be one ‘o Bulldog Kelley’s outfit. They work out o’ some of the illegal saloons t’ be found back in the bush. We catch one or two of ‘em every now an’ then, but we can’t get Kelley, an’ he’s the head o’ the snake. I can think of one or two that might fit your description, but not a one that had a full beard. An’ this fella’s probably shaved by now.”
I wrote out my story, signed it, and returned to work.”
Between the horse thieves, authority over liquor sales and a war between the BC Provincial Police and the North West Mounted Hank is he in over his head? Only time will tell if he makes the right choices and will he win the heart and loyalty of Sharon Dalton?
Saddle up your horse, holster your gun and join a rugged western cast of characters that will take you back to the reality and the legends of the Wild West.
Cold Coffee Press endorses Great Liqour War by D. M. McGowan for the nuggets of history told within a great story of human experience in the Wild West. This book was given to us in a PDF for review. This review was completed on August 11, 2015. For more information, please visit Cold Coffee Press. http://www.coldcoffeepress.com

Monday, July 27, 2015

Dan Frechette and Laurel Thomsen


We had a great concert here (Diamond Willow Retreat) Sat. night (July 25/15) from two of the most versatile and accomplished musicians I have had the pleasure to hear and observe in a very long time. Some great songs as well, written by them in genres from country through folk to jazz. I was blown away by a composition that reminded me very much of Django Reinhardt and Stéphane Grappelli of the “Hot Jazz Club”.
However, those two greats from France did not have the lyrics and outstanding harmonies presented by Dan Frechette and Laurel Thomsen.
I hope to see them back again as do all those who attended.

You can take a look for yourself at:
https://www.facebook.com/danandlaurel

or at their web-site which is:
http://www.danandlaurel.ca/Home.html

And while I’m thinking of it I’ll mention again that after you have “liked” their facebook page I would appreciate it if you did the same to mine …




Here is a shot of them performing but I didn't get one when they were here the other night. My bad.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Corporal Nathan Cirillo, October 22, 2014


On October 22, 2014 a man shot one of Canada’s soldiers who at the time stood guard over the memorial for those who have defended our country and way of life and whose sacrifice is otherwise not recorded. He was also representing those men and women who have died to maintain the country and the freedom its citizens enjoy. As a serving member of Canadian forces he also represented those who did serve, survived and returned to life as a citizen and part of the fabric of this great country.

Corporal Nathan Cirillo. If you are a Canadian he represented YOU.

Corporal Nathan Cirillo. If you live in a country where you have the opportunity to express your views, however small and fleeting or large and long-standing that opportunity may be, then he represented YOU.

Corporal Nathan Cirillo. An attack on him was an attack on civilization.

Kevin Vickers, Sergeant-at-Arms within the Canadian Parliament buildings shot the attacker and brought to a halt this atrocity.

In Canada we have some of the best armourers and security training personnel to be found anywhere in the world. We have people with the fortitude – the “parts” if you will – and training to handle any situation that they may face.

Therefore the fact that Mr. Vickers stopped the attack before it became a massacre does not particularly surprise me.

The fact that Mr. Vickers had the training necessary does not surprise me too much since he is old enough to have, perhaps, received proper training such as is not usually enjoyed by some entering the security professions in the last few years. Perhaps he has had time to privately and at his own expense augment whatever initial training he did receive.

What does surprise me is that with the illogical and antiquated attitude toward firearms that is usually broadcast by Canada's traditional media Mr. Vickers was not only allowed to carry a firearm it was actually loaded and useful. I do expect our politicians will continue to spread false, misleading and un-supported information about firearms because they see such statements bringing votes ... even though it is obvious some of their lives were saved by a man with a firearm who knew how to use it.

I do hope a few real people (those who actually contribute thereby assuring the country grows and prospers) remember this event the next time firearms are vilified.

But more important, remember Corporal Nathan Cirillo.

RememberSergeant-at-Arms, Kevin Vickers.

The attacker? Forget him. He was either a fool who believed lies or he was unbalanced ... probably both. His only contribution was providing a focal point to show how important real Canadians can be to each other and the continuation of the country.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Cattle Drives in Western Canada, Part 2


Almost anyone will agree that Southern Alberta is the centre of the Canadian Cattle Industry. There is an argument that a couple of ranches west of the mountains are larger than any on the east slope. Those on that east slope can argue that Southern Alberta produces more cattle both for feeding and for market. One argument that can not be denied is that Western Canada’s cattle business did not start off in the Southern Alberta area but in Southern BC.

            In 1869 British Columbia had already spent ten years establishing herds of cattle and horses and farms producing pork, dairy products, oats, barley, wheat and many other items. The land east of the Rocky Mountains had little more than a few garden plots as far east as the Assiniboine and Red Rivers or Fort Gary. (You may know it now as Winnipeg.) The two year old country of Canada had just taken over that vast stretch of land which included the area the former manager (Hudson’s Bay Co.) called Rupert’s Land. It was still the home of all the Hudson’s Bay trading posts that had been there before but the factors of those posts no longer managed or supplied security for anything more than the actual storage and trading areas.

            It is true that being responsible for several hundred thousands of square miles of land is a serious responsibility for a two year old government but that was a small fraction of their worry. They also had several thousand Métis residents who had been the work force that kept the Hudson’s Bay Company operational for several generations but where now French speaking Catholics in a world controlled by English speaking Protestants. They also had a neighbour to the south who was ten times larger by population, even after a devastating Civil War, many of whom believed it was their Manifest Destiny to govern all of North America. Whiskey traders were also bringing in alcohol, much of it lethal and selling it to the natives who, if they didn’t die from the so called “whiskey” itself wound up killing each other in alcohol induced fights or freezing in the snow. Then, the last straw was a drunken battle in the Cypress Hills between a group of wolfers and about three hundred Nakota where 23 of the Indians where killed.

            (This is the battle at the end of the award winning novel “The Englishman’s Boy” by Guy Vanderhaeghe which became the award winning TV mini series with Michael Eisner in the lead role.)

            The Prime Minister, John A. McDonald with a great deal of help from advisers, decided Canada’s North West Territories needed a police force the size of a small army. Eventually this force was formed – after the usual time and money wasting as is associated with any bureaucratic body – and called the North West Mounted Police.

            Despite his demands what John A actually got was a force the size of a small battalion.

            What does this have to do with cattle drives? It meant the immigration of a small body of consumers of beef and relative safety for settlers or more consumers.

In the late summer of 1874 two hundred and seventy former farmers and military men where living and working on the Canadian prairies and they needed to be fed. This doesn’t require a large herd every year but it does require some cattle and if possible a few pigs and chickens.

Those first cattle came from Montana to places like Fort MacLeod, Fort Walsh and Fort Saskatchewan. Most of these were the wild, long horn animals that had been trailed up from Texas during the nine years since the end of the Civil War.

Later it became apparent to commanding officers – Walsh, MacLeod, and many of those under them – that the Blackfoot where not going to receive the meat they had been promised. Though they didn’t have clearance or the money a few extra cattle where added to the herds from the south and, along with some trapping and hunting the Blackfoot people managed to survive.

When in 1876 Sitting Bull’s people came north of the 49th parallel after the Battle of Little Big Horn, money was found for a few more cattle.  Not enough to feed both the Lakota and the Blackfoot but, with a little special management, enough to avoid embarrassment for government people and enough to avoid an Indian war.

Feeding the various native tribes was a problem that continued for most of those last years of the nineteenth century. As a small example, George and Edward Maunsell had 103 head of cattle delivered to Southern Alberta in June, 1879 to start a ranch. In the fall of that year when the local ranchers completed their roundup the Maunsells (who had participated in the roundup) found they had 54 head. The Blackfoot, Cree, Assiniboine and Lakota managed to survive but relations between these people, the ranchers and the Mounties took a very long time to recover even though it was the “toffs” in Ottawa that created the antagonism.

Having heard of the arrival of the Mounted Police on the plains a man named John Shaw, along with Frank O’Keefe and Charles Ashton took two hundred cows and a hundred eighty seven steers through the North Kootney Pass. They arrived in Morley, North West Territories in August 1875 but there was little sale for their cattle since supply had already been received from Montana. Shaw rode north to see if there was sale for his beef at Fort Edmonton (Hudson’s Bay) or Fort Saskatchewan (NWM Police) but those sites had also been supplied by animals from the south.

There were several bringing cattle up from Montana in those early years most notably George Emerson and Tom Lynch. The foundation for these animals was the Texas longhorn but in the 1870s they where beginning to be bread with heavier animals from Oregon.

During the fall and winter a great deal of building took place a short distance from Morley where John Shaw had returned after his unsuccessful trip north. The Mounted Police built a new post, the Hudson’s Bay Company expanded their post and I.G Baker of Fort Benton built a post. Next to the Police post was the T.C Power & Brother store, Harry Taylor’s billiard hall and some Métis cabins.

This new NWMP post which had been named Fort Brisebois after the Officer Commanding the detachment was renamed by Assistant Commissioner Irvine at the suggestion of Colonel Macleod.  Thus in the spring of 1876 John Shaw, having completed a sale to the NWMP through an agent finally began delivering his BC cattle, the first herd to be sold in Calgary. The name of the post came from Calgary House on the Isle of Mull in Scotland. The first cattle in Canada’s premier “cow-town” came from the Chilcotin and Okanogan countries in B.C.

What really increased the cattle business was the railroad reaching into the plains. In 1881 the Canadian government opened large areas for ranching leases. These ranches, usually were of several thousand acres and supplied with financing from Eastern Canada, the US or England. A few years later the Homestead Act was instituted and the large ranches gained neighbours of 160 to 640 acres.

Going back a couple of years and a couple of paragraphs, many of the cattle that came in to stock these new ranches where driven by George Emerson and Tom Lynch. In both 1779 and 1880 they brought 1000 head in from Montana, selling many of them to the growing number of settlers around the Fort Macleod area but also building up herds for themselves.  In 1883 a herd of 3000 head for the newly formed North West Cattle Company and in ’84 another 2000 head.

It will be evident that the few men mentioned are not the only ones who brought cattle into the North West Territories during these years. By 1884 when the Transcontinental Railway was working its way up the foothills and into the mountains the range was already overstocked and full of many thousands of cattle.

In 1885 the Mounties went east to join the Canadian Militia in putting down the Riel Rebellion.

The three member nations of the Blackfoot Confederacy hunkered down on their reserves to ensure the white men didn’t think they where involved with the Métis and Cree fighting that war. While attempting to stay out of sight they began entertaining the idea of raising cattle along with the horses. They still had a few of each despite their living conditions and within a few years managed to acquire the government loan of bulls to build those herds.

During the years from the US Civil War (1865) until 1886 millions of cattle had been moved around on the surface of North America. Several of those millions had wound up in the slaughterhouses of Chicago. Several hundred thousand had become the foundation of herds in those areas that are now the states of Montana (1889), Wyoming (1890), and the Dakotas (1889) and through the usual forces of nature became millions.

The same forces where pressuring the Canadian cattle industry. Every year the price for beef would fall a little in the east and every year a little more money was demanded of those raising cattle. In the case of the large “combines” with several thousand cattle the demand was from the ranch owners in offices on Wall Street, Young Street or Fleet Street. In the case of the small operators the cash demands where from bankers and suppliers. Consequently on ranches from Fort Edmonton to El Paso the land was overgrazed.

During the winter of 1886 – ’87 nature solved the overgrazing problem. The most severe winter in many years that surprised everyone but the oldest trappers and natives killed thousands of cattle, horses, sheep, Wapiti, moose, deer and many other animals. Some of the smaller farmers who managed time to cut some hay and didn’t have many animals in the first place only lost 20% of their animals. Some of the larger ranches lost 80% and a couple even more. An estimated average for losses in Western North America that winter is 75%. It was the beginning of the end of the open range.

 

            Next time, I’ll mention some horses.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Here is another one of the short stories from my "The Yearlings" collection. I hope to have this collection published and available sometime in 2014. It includes stories from Ontario (where this one takes place) to British Columbia and a time frame from the late 1800s to the 1980s. Some of them are based on something that actually happened ... with some slight extrapolation.
Other stories are more in the line of major extrapolation; that is to say they may have been part of a bad dream.
Another selection from the collection, the title story, was posted here several months ago.


That's a lot of water!

                                                                By D.M. McGowan
 

            They lived south of town, about twenty miles. You leave town and go down through Nottawa, take the fork to the left, and go on through Creemore. After you cross the valley that Creemore sits in, you start back up-hill, and pretty soon you come to Lavington.
            Well, they don't live anywhere near there! You plumb missed it!
            You turn around; go back down the hill and through Creemore. Just after you leave that roaring metropolis - be sure to pay attention, because if you don't see the sign you won't know you've been through it - take the first road to the left and follow it west. Actually, you only go west for a wee ways, and then you start to angle south.
            You take a look around while you're going down that road. That's some of the roughest, standing-on-end country you're likely to pass through. You won't be able to tell how up and down some of it is, without leaving' the road, because the maples, birch, and what-not are growing thick as a jungle.
            You'd best take my word for that part. Don't be leaving the road to look! That's what they call the Devil's Glen. A stranger gets off the road in there, and it's only the devil can find him!
            Anyway, you follow that road on up the valley until it narrows down to a dirt track. A half a mile after you've left the gravel you'll see the Clayton place off the road to your right. It's hard to tell with all the trees and rocks in your way, but you're only about two miles across the valley from Lavington where you were lost an hour ago.
            As you turn up the lane, there's a little cedar-roofed house on your right that hasn't seen paint in fifty years. Fifty yards farther there's a big barn on your left that's in far better shape than the house, but with just as much paint on it.
            You know, I don't think you could paint those old pine boards. You could put a gallon on every square foot and it would make about as much impression as throwing a gallon of water in the Pretty River.
            When you get there, you stop by the house and have a look around. You'll figure that the only thing that land can produce is rocks and pretty, but you'd be surprised. The soil in between the rocks and the trees is mighty good land.
            The Clayton boys grow potatoes, corn, wheat, the occasional cow, and a few pigs. They eat a little of all of it, but their main source of income is the potatoes and corn. Not spuds and kernels, but the product of their manufacturing enterprise. They have what you might call a value-added business. The Clayton boys make some of the finest drinking spirits in the land.
            When you find yourself standing by the house looking at the view, just keep doing it! If you start wandering around the place looking for the Clayton boys, someone will take a shot at you, and you'll find yourself leaking all over the driveway! You just stand there and call out. Someone will come out and find you. They probably knew you were coming when you left Creemore.
            Calling them the Clayton boys is somewhat misleading for a stranger. Actually it's Jacob Clayton, and his two sons, Mark and Matthew. Mark would be about 25 now and Matthew about 28. If you've read any of the Bible it's not hard to figure out which one is the oldest, but it doesn't matter - there alike as two peas in a pod.
            Both the sons have been to school long enough to learn how to read and write, though it's hard to know if they still can. Jacob demanded they quit school after they had finished Grade 8 down in Creemore.
             "Ain't no money in that readin' and 'rithmatic stuff!" Jacob proclaimed. "You boys’ll stay home here an' learn the pride of makin' an honest livin'! Ain't none of them fools down t' town can teach yuh nothin' 'bout makin' good whiskey! 'Sides, if you go on you'll have to go to Collingwood. Ain't no fit place fer folks. Sinful! Must be nigh on t' four thousan' people there." An understanding of Jacob's ability with numbers can be partially achieved by knowing that at the time he made that statement the population of Collingwood would be in the neighborhood of fifteen thousand people.
            When Ma Clayton (During a previous life she had a name. It was Esther.) realized that she didn't have sons any longer, but three men to chase after and care for, she knew just what she had to do. She up and died.
            Behind the Clayton's barn there are a few out-buildings that look like they'll fall down any minute. One of them won't, because there's a Model A Ford truck inside holding it up.
            Every fall, Jacob would load that Model A with the year’s finest distilled product. At least, all that hadn't been bought by hunters, or drank by the production staff in an effort to maintain quality control. He would hide the jars of moonshine under a few sacks of wheat, drive the twenty miles into Collingwood, and sell the load, wheat and all.
            As preparations were made for these autumn trips, Jacob would fend off the pleadings of both of his sons for a chance to go with him.
            "Need you boys to stay home and keep the still runnin'," he would insist. "Can't make a living by shuttin' down production. 'Sides, you boys know that quality drops when you shut down."
            In these statements Jacob was right, as most parents are. Despite his being right, his sons continued to argue, as most kids will do.
            "But it'll only take one of us to keep the still runnin', Pa," one of them would whine.
            "The other one’ll be busy keepin' strangers away," Jacob would advise. "You know its huntin' season and there'll be folks wanderin' all over the hills."
            The boys' eyes would sparkle with the thought of sending a bullet whistling and clipping over some flat-lander's head, and the pleading would stop. However, Jacob would continue with his arguments.
            "Anyway, that city's a den o' transgression an' sin! No place for young boys like you to be! You'll be tempted to stray from the ways of the Lord!"
            Having completed his teachings, Jacob would climb into the old truck, set the fuel mixture, and nod. His sons would push the truck until it began rolling down the lane on its own. When he thought he had achieved enough speed, Jacob would pop the clutch, and the calm of the valley would be destroyed by the explosions of a flooded Model A engine.
            The boys knew they would be alone for at least two days, and perhaps for a week. They thought this was due to the long trip their father would be making, not being aware that it was only an hour’s drive in the Model A.
            Having sold his produce, Jacob would rent a room at one of Collingwood's finest hotels and stock it with one of the town's finest ladies of the evening. The length of his stay would depend on the variety of ladies available, and the amount of money he had raised through sale of his goods. When he spoke to his sons about "a den of transgression", he was not repeating some rumor he had only heard. He had first-hand experience.
            The son’s arguments for inclusion in the trip were likewise misleading. They were actually anxious for Jacob to leave so that they could start their yearly party.
            By drawing straws, one of the sons would be chosen to take a wheelbarrow loaded with sacks of grain down to the mill in Creemore. Having sold the grain, the chosen one would then purchase "some o' that store-bought sippin' whiskey," some bakery bread and a jar of peanut butter. Having returned home with the contraband cargo, he would join his brother in a serious comparison of their own product with the commercial variety, interspersed with an occasional peanut-butter sandwich.
            Since it was often difficult for them to remember the results of this comparison (even the next day), the test had to be repeated each year.
            One year Mark won the opportunity to push the bag of wheat down hill and to return with the whiskey. However, it was a particularly warm day, and he decided on the return trip to pause and take a small sip of his cargo.
            "Ah, that's mighty smooth corn," he proclaimed to the surrounding trees. "It deserves more 'preciation."
            When he had appreciated the whiskey several times, Mark found that the long trip and warm day had made him very tired. He decided that he should stop for a short rest before continuing on home. He passed out under a maple tree.
            On the Clayton homestead, Matthew began to worry about his overdue brother as evening turned to night.
            "Those folks down to the valley can't be trusted," he told himself. "No tellin' what they mighta done to Mark. He might be needin' my help."
            With a kerosene lantern, Matthew started down hill in the gathering dark to search for his wayward brother.
            With only a lantern to dispel the dark of night deep in the canyon of trees, Matthew missed his brother, sleeping soundly under the maple tree. He also missed the turn to the right that would have led him toward Creemore.
******************************************************************************

            On his way to work early in the morning, Harold Carlton saw someone standing out at the end of the long concrete dock on the Collingwood waterfront. Curious, he turned out along the dock and parked behind the vaguely familiar figure.
            The man did not change his stance as Harold turned the ignition off and slid from the car. Frozen in place, the man stood in the rays of the rising sun with a lantern held up at head height and stared out across Georgian Bay toward the haze on the distant horizon.
            Keeping his distance, Harold walked around the figure and began to approach from the left. When he could see the man's profile, he recognized him as one of the Clayton boys from down in Devil's Glen, several miles to the south.
            "Ah, Matthew," Harold said cautiously, guessing at which brother stood before him, "is there something I can help you with?"
            Matthew remained frozen, staring at the distant horizon. In a reverent tone, just loud enough to be heard over the waves slapping the dock, he said, "You know, I ain't never bin this far from home, but it was worth the trip, just to see the water!"

 

Sunday, October 21, 2012

What is Homesteader about?


I recently had a request for information on my available novels from Spirit River and thus found an interesting site. They have the names of several Peace River area authors, information and in some cases reviews of their works and its availability.
I spent several minutes, many more than I can actually afford, reading about immigrants, pioneers, the Alberta Provincial Police, Grande Prairie … the site is chock full of items to pique the interest of anyone regardless of location or age.
I spent several moments reading about the mass murder which occurred in June of 1918 North West of Grande Prairie. The late Wallace Lloyd Tansem spent several years compiling the facts of the multiple murders and they appear in his book, “Foulest of Murder” is coverage of that information.
Check out the blog at http://townspirit.wordpress.com
There is a link to Tansem’s work and to many others.
Town Spirit River also asked for information on Homesteader which I repeat here;
            What’s “Homesteader” about?
     Yes, the story “Homesteader” takes place in the Canadian West of the late 19th century. However, that isn’t what it’s about
     Yes, the story relates how a horseman from west of the Rockies and his riding partner each take land under the Homesteader Act. However, that isn’t what the novel is about.
     Sure there are Colt, Remington and Smith & Wesson revolvers mentioned, along with a few rifles including two Winchester models. But that has little to do with the story.
     There are a diverse group of characters. There is a bully who, like most bullies thinks he is smarter than most and judges people by their appearance. There are some North West Mounted Police officers, some doing their jobs and others who only want the “Force” to look after them. There are hardworking, money-less families, widows, prospectors, Blackfoot, Sioux and the business people of Calgary.
     Several action scenes are included. There are bucking horses and broken legs, a stage coach robbery and murder. Fence posts turn to slivers from the impact of a 45-70 bullet and sculls that do little better.
     Let us not forget the weather. A horrendous winter is part of the story; a winter that eventually was responsible for changing the way the country handles livestock.
    What the story is actually about is a young man finding the woman he loves. About learning that what he has been taught all his life is not necessarily true; that what may appear on the surface may not be what is underneath. About keeping a good partner and gaining another even closer one.
And, of course, recovering.
     As with “Partners” there is a link to “Homesteader” on my blog and other sites listed below. Both are available as books and in a variety of digital formats. They can also be found at the following book stores or ordered from those that don’t have it in stock.
Audrie’s Books … Edmonton
Riverside Music and Books … Peace River
Beth’s Books … Grande Prairie
Read’s Books … Dawson Creek
Bills News … Dawson Creek
Online at my blog; (click on the images to the right)
or
or
 
 


 

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Communication and Partners


            I was under the mistaken impression that most who read this blog or visit Facebook knew what my presently available novels are about. Apparently I have been mistaken. Therefore I will attempt to communicate that information.

 

Actually that is primarily what “Partners” is about; the inability of the young, physical and poorly educated to understand some one older, well educated, worldly and of a more mental inclination. Of course, there is a need for communication in the other direction as well.

Lack of communication is not a unique problem. The difficulty exists today between the young and old, educated and ignorant, men and woman. I believe that this is a problem that has existed that has existed since the dawn of time.

I also believe that we don’t do enough to overcome this lack of understanding. When we do make efforts to communicate we often make the problem worse. When we don’t make an effort to be understood this too may make the problem worse since a non-action may project a lack of concern.

Is it necessary that we do anything? Perhaps time and stable emotions on the part of both parties will solve the problem.

“Partners” explores this question and supplies a possible answer or result. The story begins in the Cyprus Hills of the North West Territories (we call it Saskatchewan these days) in 1866. Our two heroes (one young and one REALY old … well, half my age) try to stay alive as they travel west, through the Crows Nest Pass and end up in Barkerville.

Yes their most serious problem from the Prairies does catch up to them, but …. Well, things could always be better.

I try to have some actual history in my stories and novels. “Partners” and “Homesteader” are no exception. There are stories and small tidbits of information buried within the fiction, things that really happened or perhaps things that affect what we do today. Both these novels are also available for Kindle, iBook and Nook.

One can click on the cover images to the left and go to the SBP page or go to Amazon.com/books. At the later site it is also possible to read a few pages before purchase by using the “Look in the book” feature.

I’ll be back soon with another post with some information about “Homesteader”.

 


 

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