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Reminiscences of an Early Homesteader
Alex Rankin
A first-hand account from: "Stories of Pioneer Days at Killarney": Published by the Women's Institute of Killarney.

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In the days of which. I write, Wakopa was the metropolis of the Turtle Mountain district. There council met and parliamentary nominations were made. At our first political meeting Arthur Rollins was asked the question, “What are the boundaries of your constituency?” To which he replied, “They begin at Clearwater, on "the East and end at sundown on the West.” The first bridge in the Municipality was built at Wakopa, by George Crawford, in the year 1881.The second and third bridges were built by William and Charles Willoughby, between sections 2 and 11' and 3 and 10. ' General Custer’s horse and saddle were brought to Wakopa by the Indians, after the massacre in Yellowstone, Montana, in 1876. Harrison Bros. saw mill was built in 1879. Later on they built a grist mill, George-Bennett, a freighter, brought in the first and second pairs of stones for this mill from Emerson. One of these trips was made with oxen. I have made trips to Nelsonville for grists, September 1881. Also to Glenora, Crystal City, Deloraine and Wawanesa. The first team of horses in the Turtle Mountain district was owned by a man named La Riviere. His nephew, Jeremiah La Riviere, a big. husky freighter, drove them to Emerson for store goods. On the return trip the horses played out at Badger Creek (new Cartwright). The driver walked to Wakopa for a bundle of hay, and a sack of oats, which he carried back to the horses, a round trip of sixty miles. At one of the stopping places on the way, before coming as far as Badger Creek, there was a free for all fight. La Riviere saw that he was not going to be able to get any sleep indoors, so he went out side and scooped out a hole in the side of a snow-bank, rolled himself up in his buffalo robe, and slept peacefully till morning in 15 below zero weather. I had a trip in the fall of 1881 from Crystal City to old Desford and back, and had dinner and supper in one meal at Joe McKibbon’s, Badger Creek. All the country was burnt black, not a blade of grass to be seen A prairie fire had swept the country, starting about where the town of Melita is now, and extended to Cartwright before it was brought under control. A man by the name of Hill, a Hudson Bay trader, was out five days in a blizzard his legs were badly frozen to the knees, and his arms to the elbows. He crawled from Wood Lake to Wakopa, a distance of five miles. The Indians found him and took care of him. They daubed the frozen parts with a knife before thawing, so that the congealed blood would ooze out in thawing, the parts healing perfectly. The mail was brought in from Emerson, and the mail sack was emptied into Clevise’s big box, where each settler went and sorted out his own mail. Everything that was lost and found by some one was brought to this box. Later a regular mail route was established, coming in from Brandon. Clevises kept the first post office. La Riviere, who owned the horses, was a Justice of the Peace, and a commissioner for aflidavits, could sneak seven dialects of the Indian language, also French and English, but could not write his own name. A deputation was sent from our district to Winnipeg to ask for an extension of the railway. They were told to go home and raise wheat, and not to come in there to raise h..l ! J. P. Alexander was our first M. L. A., and Finlay Young was our second member. I drew his trunk from Wakopa to Brandon when he went to Winnipeg for his first term in the legislature. Our first July First celebration was held in 1883, at Wakopa. The races took place on the road on the west side of the creek. Jim Cowan’s pony being the winner, with Bob Weir as jockey, I built a granary that my neighbor, Jim Gordon, said I might fall down and worship, and not commit any sin, as there was nothing like it in the heavens above, or the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth. Mr. Rowsom, when telling Mr. Gordon of the new game laws, expressed the opinion that it was quite right for the prairie chickens to be protected, as they stayed here all winter, but the ducks, being here for he summer only, didn’t need protection. Mr. Gordon could not see eye to eye with him there, his opinion being that a bird that could fly, and hadn’t sense enough to get out of this country for the winter didn’t deserve protection. In expressing an opinion on returning borrowed articles, he said it wasn’t right to break the laws of the country, if people wanted their things let them go after them, and be mighty thankful that they knew where they were. The first steam power butter factory was started by John Hettle, on Sharpe’s Creek in 1885. A. Sharpe and the Young Bros. were directors. The first person buried in the cemetery in the bush beside the school at Wakopa, was John Axford, who was accidently shot. Then two of Clevises’ children and Alec McFee. LaRiviere kept the first store, before then he had been a trader with the Indians. C. W. Williams and Harrison Bros. were in partnership in the next store. I had first ruling in Manitoba from the Department of Education, as to legality of using school taxes to build a stable at Long River school. There were tragedies in those days too. Big horse, an Indian, killed English Henry, another Indian. Big Horse made his escape. There was a Frenchman murdered by another Frenchman, for which the slayer was sentenced to seven years in the penitentiary. Then there were the exciting days of the Riel Rebellion, in 1885. We had rifles and bayonets issued to us by the government. There was one company of home-guards at Wakopa and another at Maple Grove, of which I was sergeant. I still have my bayonet as a souvenir. In those days Little Shell, Chief of the Chippewas, used to travel back and forth from Dakota to Fort Ellice, in the Qu’Appelle Valley every spring and fall. One day he called at my house, saying “Minne, minne”. I finally understood that he was asking for water. I offered him a glass of milk, which he indignantly pushed aside saying “Give papoose, squaw, brave no drink milk.” Henry Coulter bought the first horse-power threshing machine. Second and third, William Chapman and Darius Harris. I, with my team of horses, lived in a dug-out for two seasons. The place was sixteen feet square, and I had a small sheet-iron stove. One winter, several men with teams, drove over the top of it, not knowing that a faithful homesteader was doing his duties underneath. William Shannon bought the first steam threshing machine. James Sharpe was our first tax collector, James Gordon was the first assessor. The first White child born in the district was the little daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Donald Grant. It was said that this child was kidnapped by Indians, and never heard of again. Jim Cowan and Tom Coulter were our first cattle buyers. They drove their first shipment of cattle to Brandon, following them on ponies. These cattle were shipped to Calgary. Lyonshall was the first school built in the district in 1882. Miss E. A. Jones, now Mrs Alex McKnight, was the first teacher. Miss Reeves was the next teacher. Many people used to come to Wakopa mills, bringing grain to be aground into flour, or buying lumber at the saw-mill. Meals were served at the Harrison home, at La Riviere’s, and at Mrs. J. Melville’s boarding house. The first church services were held in the Hudson Bay trading post, and were conducted by a young Presbyterian student by the name of Patterson, now Dr. Patterson, of Toronto. The church was built in Lyonshall in 1897. I remember being at a box social held in the school house, where T. J. Lawlor acted as auctioneer. In 1882, when absent from homestead duties, I took part in a hunt for horse—thieves, and three stolen horses. The thieves had stolen the horses from a man of Calf Mountain, near Morden, and were travelling westward near the boundary when overtaken by the sheriff. They would not surrender either themselves or the horses, but told him to take them dead or alive if he could. The sheriff did not shoot, but called out some of the nearest settlers to help him, and the thieves were over-taken beside a large slough; but they still defied the sheriff to take them, alive or dead. Some who had rifles wanted to shoot, but others restrained them especially a young man by the name of J. W. Smaill, from Crystal City, who, strongly advised them not to shoot, for if they should happen to kill the men they could be tried for murder under British law, even though the men were thieves. In the meantime, while the sheriff and settlers were parleying with the outlaws, two brothers, by the name of McKitrick had crept close enough to the horses, through the long grass to stampede them, so the horses were caught, but the thieves escaped. The sheriff was satisfied to get the horses, and let the men go. The thieves traveled about seven miles east that night, and stole three horses from the Lynes brothers. They then went a few miles west and crossed the boundary into Dakota. The next morning the men of the settlement, well armed, followed their tracks, resolved this time to get them. There was not a man left but myself and a young fellow by the name of Alex Mutch. When the women of the district realized that all the men were away, and that they had no provisions or extra clothing, they got us to take a team and wagon and go around the settlement gathering up provisions. We started out, well supplied with bread, tea, pork and flour, also overcoats and quilts, as rain had come on, and they expected the men would be away for several days and the nearest settlement in Dakota was at Devil’s Lake, sixty miles away. We met many of the men returning their ardour to catch the outlaws being dampened by the rain and chill. However, we continued our journey until we overtook the leaders of the party, just before dusk. When it became too dark to follow the tracks further, we, unhitched our horses and tied them around the wagon, and prepared our own supper. Then we spread our quilts under the wagon, and laid down and tried to sleep, but the rain trickled through the bottom of the wagon box and sleep was out of the question. We moved out into the open, so that the rivulets could not reach us. With two horse blankets on the ground, and our quilts over us, we tried to sleep in the drizzling rain. There were eight of us, the ones behind crowding out those in front, so that he, too, got in behind, and thus we tried to keep warm, as we were chilled to the marrow although it was the last week in June. With the breaking of the day we had our breakfast, and then resumed our tracking, We followed the tracks until well on in the day, and they led us away to the south-west, toward Bismark. We changed our course south for Devil’s Lake, or Fort Totten, where we might get assistance from the militia, or the Indian scouts. We camped on the north side of the lake that night, crossed over by the ferry in the morning, reaching the fort, and found that the men we were seeking had been there all night; having travelled around the end of the lake, and had left only an hour before we arrived. We asked the major in command if we overtook the men, and they would not give up the horses, if we had the right to fire on them, even if’ we should kill. “Oh”, he said, there is no law in the United States protecting horse thieves, you take your own chance. There we had the difference between the law of the United States and the law of Britain. The Lvnes boys offered seventy five dollars reward for their three horses, or twenty-five for each horse, and the commandant sent some of the Indian scouts with us. We came on our men where they had camped for dinner. The Indians had spread out, and came on them from different directions. The Indians drew their revolvers and the thieves surrendered. They made them deliver their guns, and give up the horses, then to our great surprise they let the men go. When they returned to the Fort they were asked why they did not bring in the men too. They replied, “Reward for horses, no 'reward for men.” They were given the seventy-five dollars, and the officer in charge allowed them to keep the guns and revolvers they had taken from the men and the Indians were happy. We were happy too, as we started back over the trail, and we reached home safely on the first day of July.