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Pioneer Stories
James Henderson
Recollections of an early settler from "Beckoning Hills: Pioneer Settlement, Turtle Mountain - Souris Basin Areas".

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A blustery north-west wind was blowing across the Red River late one afternoon during the last week in March 1876 when my family got off the emigrant train, the first to enter Manitoba, at Emerson. There wasn't a building in sight, so we crossed and proceeded down the river for two miles to the government sheds and there we had to remain for a week until our belongings arrived. We bought a yoke of oxen and a 2art and with our supplies headed for my brother's place at Nelsonville, a distance of fifty miles. During the first day's journey we waded for fifteen miles through water three to six inches deep. It seemed such a long day and not very warm. My teeth chattered until we disembarked on a dry ridge that evening. Two and one half dGys were to pass before we reached our destination. I stayed there for three years and then with my brother Robert headed west for La Riviere, known as Wakopa. I stayed here while my brother went by the Commission Trail to Deloraine. I took up the first homestead that was taken in 1 - 16, section 32, and my brother the second, 2 - 16, section 6. As winter was approaching I decided that a dug-out would be the quickest and the warmest shelter. I must have constructed it too hurriedly as all I did the first part of that winter was eat ban- nocks and freeze. I just couldn't see the sense of living that way until spring arrived, so I packed a couple of cooked prairie chickens and bannocks in a tin, bid my first neighbour, Arnold Smith, adieu and with my oxen and cart, headed back to Nelsonville. My brother, who had planned to come back with me had been asked by land hunters to take them to Deloraine Land Office and there he stayed that winter doing some logging. The night preceding the day I arrived at Nelsonville a severe blizzard broke over the prairies. I realized long before morning that I would freeze to death if I remained in my little tent. Pulling it down and tossing it into the Red River cart I hitched up the oxen who were as close to freezing as 1 was. They had become stiff with the cold and were badly caked with snow. It was most difficult to get them going. We travelled for about six miles until the oxen· had warmed up a bit. I stopped in a depression and while they ate what dead grass showed above the snow I had the last of the chicken. It was late that evening before I could lie down on a warm bed.   Of the he early homes around Wakopa some were built of sod with thatched roofs, but for the most part they were mainly log. Early in 1880 a shingle and lumber mill was in operation owned by George, Matt, and Bill Harrison. They had a grist mill powered by water wheel also, a short distance from the saw mill on the banks of Long River. This same year Billy Weir and a French fellow started blacksmithing. La Riviere's Trading post not only traded in furs now, but all the necessities of the early settler. It was in '79 that Lee Severne, La Riviere's son-in-law became post-master of the first post office in the Turtle Mountain area. When I came to this area, the R.N.W.M. Police fort still stood three-quarters of a mile approximately east of old Wakopa townsite, being a two storey structure with small holes all around the second storey to ward off any attack. It was built around 1874 and I believe it was destroyed by fire about 1880. On my return that spring to Old Wakopa it was humming with activity. A new boarding house was in the process of being built on the north side of the Commission Trail which was the town's main street. A livery barn was built in the southern outskirts due east of the sawmill, west of the mill and around the bend of Long River stood the grist mill. The first frame house in the Turtle Mountain was built in 1880. Indians camped in or near the townsite every night and took a keen interest in all sports. They were well liked by the Wakopa folk. Wakopa was given its name by an old Indian who thought a lot of La Riviere - it meaning "white father." Passing Pilot Mound on my return west I noticed a flag flying from a pole on the mound that could be seen for miles. As I continued on west and neared 31-1-6 on the east of the section on another high knoll was a second flag which was also visible for miles. These were wonderful guides for people who settled many miles away from either side of the Trail. They stood for many years. Most everyone who travelled the Commission Trail would stop at Pancake Lake to rest and eat. Harry Coulter gave it that name one evening in 1789 when he stopped for supper and cooked his pancakes over a wolfe willow fire. In 1880 Wakopa had its first burial. Two Metis working for La Riviere got into a heated argument during milking one evening. One fellow got up off his stool and threw it at the other hitting him on one of the temples which resulted in instant death. The aggressor took flight and hid in a coil of hay northeast of the townsite. R.N.W.M. Police next day noticed the displaced hay by the coil and with help toppled the coil which uncovered the milk stool hurler. IIn 1883 Bob O'Brien brought the first seeder to Wakopa, a broadcast type from Ontario. It was a very popular implement and as most farms had only a few acres broken, many settlers made use of it. One evening in 1885, when I had lain down on my hay mattress for the night, I heard a lot of yelling and drum beating from across the meadow. Putting on my clothes I hurriedly walked, ran, and crawled to within sight of a big camp of Indians in war paint. Some three hundred were holding a pow-pow in preparation to going west to support Riel. I did not return to my cabin that night, but chose a clump of wolf willow half a mile away, and was very pleased when morning came. They never harmed anyone in our area, left the next afternoon by the Commission Trail to the west. Sam Kellam, Bill Barber, John Barber and another fellow by the name of McFayden were sworn in as border wardens by the RN.W.M. Police to prevent Indians from North Dakota from joining the Riel uprising. They were paid a salary and were given powers to call anyone into service should assistance be needed. They had to report each week to the Pembina Police Detachment concerning any incidents, and were assured a quantity of Long Tom guns (British L.A. 1860 issue) with ample ammunition. The guns and ammunition were stored in La Riviere's Trading Post and gristmill. It was Bill Barber and Sam Kellan with an Assiniboine Indian named Will Moon who uncovered a plot to smuggle a Gattling gun to the Duck Mountains in Saskatchewan by a large band of Indians. They had come up from North Dakota by the way of the Missouri Trail and has passed through Wakopa and proceeded about two miles beyond when they were asked to stop and uncover the so- called coffin. Even though they outnumbered the patrol by forty to one they did not offer any resistance and uncovered the box when asked to. It was Will Moon who had suspicions when the band stopped in Wakopa to rest for a few hours. The braves who were guarding the wagon with the box in it acted rather odd he thought, when they told Sam Kellan that they were going to bury an old Indian chief at the head waters of Turtle Head Creek on the west end of the Turtle Mountains. In conclusion, I believe our district was much like the others north of the Turtle Mountains. We had our share of swell neighbours, always ready to help a family in need regardless of roads, weather, or time of year. One person who was known for her leader- ship and kindness and her attention to the sick was Mrs. Tom Coulter. She was largely responsible for the success of the Wakopa Picnic for a period of thirty years. Races were held in the trail and lunch was served where the Missouri and the Commission join. No doubt other districts have people of such sterling character, but she was sadly missed by the people of our community when she left. We had many hardships in those days but there was much happiness too. Often during the evening by the fireside, or sitting on the doorstep of our modest home during the cool of the evening, my mind goes back to the days when the settlers came into this area over what remains of our "fading trails." James Henderson, Wakopa.