My Dear Mother,
After waiting two weeks in Winnipeg and going down to the Station every morning to try and get on a train going to Brandon I was rewarded this morning by finding that a train was this time ready to start. I breakfasted at 7:30 a.m.. making a very hasty meal as the transfer sleigh carne for my baggage just as I was beginning breakfast so I had to swallow a cup of tea and a piece of toast and hurry off to the station ... This morning the weather was delightful, as warm and bright as a May day. I found an immense crowd of people ... After an hour's delay we at last got off with an immense train just packed with people. Many could not get seats. As I now write I am packed in as tight as I can squeeze. For three hours we went along very slowly only making about 10 miles [16 kin] an hour only having one engine ... About 11:30 a.m.. suddenly without any warning a blizzard sprung up and in five minutes it was blowing a gale, in ten minutes a perfect hurricane. You could not see ten yards [9 m], the snow flying over the prairie in such clouds. In fifteen minutes, or less even, the train, which from the time the storm came up went slower and slower, cane to a stop, and we have not since moved an inch. The passengers turned out with snow shovels but the storm was so fierce they had to come inside again and their work was of no avail as it filled up faster than they could shovel it out. It is now 4 p.m.. and the storm is raging with unabated fury. You can't see ten yards. The wind at times is so fierce that the car sways from side to side. To add to our troubles it is getting bitterly cold and the stock of fuel is getting low. We are thirty miles 148 km] from any village. They say the prospects are even [if] the storm abates now we cannot get to a village for two days as they will have to dig out the whole line. I was fortunate enough to get one small orange. There is not a thing to eat on the train and it is impossible to get any assistance until they can dig out the road. I have a small flask with a little whiskey which I am sharing with my fellow passengers but it won't last more than a few hours. There are a great many women and children on board and the prospects are there will be terrible suffering from hunger and cold. My enthusiasm of this glorious country is fast dying out and I would give anything for something to eat but there seems no hope of even getting a bite for the next 48 hours. I never before realized what it was to be hungry and Ontario people couldn't realize what a storm on the prairie means. I have over $2 000 in cash about me and a Texas gentleman is sitting beside me. Altogether the prospects are not what you might call cheerful by any means. Fancy, this is the third of April and there is fully three and a half feet of snow in the prairies. I will continue this later on. 7 p.m.. Fire has gone out and the car is bitterly cold, wind still rages. 9 p.m.. Prospects still brightening, just got two soda biscuits and the fire has been persuaded to burn a little. Have found a pair of blankets so will make the best of things for the night. April 4th, 7 a.m.. Had a miserable night. Fire went out again, car was awfully cold. The thermometer must register 30 degrees this morning. The steam from the engine freezes as it comes out. Had a biscuit for breakfast, walked about four miles [6 km] on the prairie and then shovelled snow for about an hour or so. Weather a little warmer. Relief train in sight about four miles 16 kin] off Nothing for dinner ... April 5th. A relief train came out to about two miles [3 km] from here to take off passengers. Walked out to meet it about 12 p.m.. last night found it was not even in sight. Waited half an hour, still no sign. Nearly frozen. Was obliged to return to the train. Passed a miserable night. Fires out. Cold cars in a disgusting state. Smell sickening. This morning is a windy day but very cold. There is still an immense drift about fourteen feet [4 m] [in] height between us and relief engine. About 150 men are digging but the snow is as hard as a rock and the work goes on slowly. A faint hope only of getting through today. One biscuit for breakfast. Felling [sic] very sick and weak today. Have a frightful cold ... About 200 left last night by train. April 9th ... With much love, believe me |