When she was finished sewing, Bea tried to persuade Bert to go into the cook house and get something to eat, but he said he wasn’t hungry. Knowing he wouldn’t change his mind, she had Cook send his dinner out to the barn. It worried Bert that Thor wouldn’t eat or drink, and when it was time to go to bed, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave. He told Ernie to go on and he would be along in a while.
Sometime during the night, Ernie woke up and noticed that Bert wasn’t in his bunk, so fearing the horse had died and fallen on him, he took the lamp and went to see what had happened. The barn was in darkness and almost quiet, except for a mild snoring sound. Ernie let out a sigh of relief, he had never heard Bert snore before, but he knew how weary he must have been. He was just about to the stall when someone said, “Shh.”
Ernie held up the lamp—what he saw made him burst out laughing! Then, when he was finally able to stop, he said, “You have gone completely balmy, Bertie,” and he started to laugh again.
It had been Thor who was snoring. He had his head resting on Bert’s shoulder and was sound asleep. Bert had been standing in front of the animal leaning against the back of the stall. He was rubbing the horse’s neck and talking to him when Thor, feeling more loved than he ever felt before, went to sleep on his saviour’s shoulder. Bert was so happy to see the horse relax that he didn’t want to move and wake it up. Thor may have slept that way until either Bert dropped, or morning came if Ernie’s laughter hadn’t disturbed him. He opened his eyes, vigorously shook his head and almost knocked Bert off his feet.
“Now you have gone and wakened him,” Bert said as he came out of the stall.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It is the middle of the night! You can not remain standing all night while a horse uses your shoulder for a pillow.”
Just then they heard the horse drinking water from a bucket on the floor. As far as Bert was concerned it was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. It was the first time Thor had taken a drink since Bert found him.
“I think he is going to make it, Ernie. Let’s try some oats.” Ernie was as excited over the horse’s recovery as Bert and they each scooped up a handful of oats. Thor ate both handfuls and looked for more. Bert was so pleased, he agreed to leave him and get some sleep.
“I would rather you didn’t say a word about this to the others,” he said on the way to the bunk house.
“It’s our secret, Bertie, that is, as far as everyone here is concerned, but I hope you shan’t mind if I share it with father and the rest of the family when I write home. I’m always looking for something interesting to tell them.”
Bert didn’t like the idea, but all he said was, “At least brother Sid will understand. He won’t even ride that horse he keeps at Grandfather White’s farm. He thinks it’s a cruel thing to do. I don’t think I am that much of a fanatic, but I suppose Father and the rest of the family will think I am. Well, if it gives them a laugh, tell them I’m happy to oblige. And speaking of father, I still have quite a bit of money left and I’d like you to send it to him along with one of your letters. It’s enough to cover what he paid for my passage and a little more for him to enjoy.”
“But you shan’t have anything left for your journey out west.”
“Oh, I’ll have earned a little more by then. You just tell Dad that I’m very grateful for all he has done for me, and that as far as I’m concerned, I’ve found paradise. You know, I want to go up to the reservation with Curly and I intend to help him build his addition. After that I can leave, and if I don’t have enough money for my fare, I shall work my way west.
Ernie was touched over his brother’s generosity, but he knew that money had very little value to Bert, and he couldn’t help worry about his future. God help the woman he marries—if he ever does, he thought. “I guess you can always make a casket or two!” he said jokingly, and they both laughed. Their father had recently sent them a post card with a picture of three of their brothers working on a machine on one side and a poem on the other.
“This photo on the other side
Justly fills my heart with pride
Three of my sons, Sid, Don & Madge
Appearance show they need not a badge
Their hearts are true, it is their work
When duty calls they never shirk
In sending this they join with me
In greetings to their brothers across the sea.”
Most of their father’s letters contained a poem or two and it was obvious that he loved all his children and missed Ernie and Bert a great deal. Now Ernie gave Bert the picture and said, “You have this, Bert. I’ll be seeing them all soon and won’t need it.”
Two days later, Roland, Bea and Bert took Ernie into Glory. It was a sad day for Bert. Having had his brother to share all his new experiences had made them even more exciting, and now for the first time in his life, he wouldn’t have a sibling, parent, or relative by his side. When they arrived in town, Roland insisted the brothers leave him and Bea to do their shopping and spend their last few hours together. They decided to take a stroll around town before having lunch at the new hotel. As they were enjoying their tea, Ernie made a last attempt to change Bert’s mind.
“I wish you were coming with me, Bert. This has been an extraordinary and unforgettable adventure, but you know Father never intended us to be cowboys. We each have an enviable trade and it would be ludicrous not to use it. I mean to say, it doesn’t take brains to ride a horse or shovel manure, does it? Come on to Calgary with me. You don’t belong on a ranch, you belong in a city.”
“That is where you are wrong, Ernie, and we never did live in a city. We always lived on an estate. First Oaken Arms, then when Dad lost that, we moved into Four Oaks with Aunt Dolly and Gran. You can’t compare that with city life, but I promise I shall join you in Calgary for awhile at least. I couldn’t leave now even if Roland said he didn’t need me because I want to keep my promise to Curly. You may think farmers and cowboys don’t have brains, but I find folks like Curly, and the other cowhands far more intelligent than most high-class citizens back home.”
Ernie shrugged and said, “I don’t know; you cannot make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”
“Well, I certainly don’t consider myself as a silk purse. Anyway, do you remember Gran telling us about the old lady who used that expression when she was talking to the minister at Gran’s church? Well, she was referring to Gran as the sow’s ear. Gran said that he told the old hag that sow’s ears were far dearer in the eyes of the Lord than silk purses and he was right. You know, Ernie you have a free spirit too, only you won’t admit it.”
“Well, I shan’t argue with you. I know, given the opportunity, I think I could invent a machine to make this haying business much simpler. Anyway, we have had a good time, Bertie, and I shall be waiting for you. I shall phone the Arnetts with a number and an address where you can get in touch with me. You keep out of trouble now, and for goodness sake, give me a shout if you need anything.” After they said goodbye at the station, Bert went to find Roland and Bea.
The Arnetts had decided to stock up on supplies while they were in town. They were fortunate to have a telephone that was serviced with a copper line. Some of their neighbours, like Mack Snider, just received their telephone reception through their barbed wire fence and their reception wasn’t nearly as clear. Messages were often misunderstood, but it was better than having no phone. When one of the neighbours was going to town, a trip that usually took an entire day, they would phone and ask if anyone needed anything. Thus, the Arnetts had a wagon load when they left Glory. Curly had asked Bert to pick out some lumber for his addition so they had that to deliver too.
When Curly saw how much lumber Bert had bought, he thought it was far too much, but having never built anything before, he didn’t complain. The day after they took Ernie to the station, Bea told Bert she would keep an eye on Thor if he wanted to take a week off and help Curly with his building. Then, realizing that he would have to sleep in the same bed with Curly and his once-a-year creek-bathed hound dog, she also offered to lend him a fold up cot and told him she would show him how to make a bedroll. Bert, amazed that she always seemed to know what he needed, thanked her. He could hardly wait to return to Curly’s and start building.
Curly was delighted when Bert showed up with one of the Arnett’s old wagons laden down with borrowed tools and odds and ends the Arnetts didn’t want. There were three odd-sized windows Roland had bought at an auction that turned out to be the wrong size for any buildings on his property, a three piece bedroom set Bea donated, since she had just bought a new one, more bits and pieces that Roland had bought at various auctions without Bea’s advice, and a roll of tar paper that Roland sent as a gift.
When Curly saw the windows and the bedroom furniture, he said, “What in hell kind of addition do you think I’m puttin’ on, Bert?”
“I didn’t come to help you build an outhouse, Curly. If you are going to find yourself a wife, you want to give her a decent home to live in, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have any idea how to build the kind of room you’re talking about.”
“And that is exactly why I’m here. Now let’s go in and draw out a plan.”
By the end of September, Bert and Curly had the addition up and waterproofed, ready for winter. Bert had instructed Curly how to do the finishing work when he had time and Curly was proud of what he was accomplishing. The addition, a two-story building, dwarfed the old shack. The old shack now had two large windows instead of one and Curly had ordered two more for the addition.
The old part of the house was now one big kitchen and living room and Bert promised to build a fireplace in it, if he had time, and could find some bricks. He also talked Curly into ordering some comfortable furniture, including two rocking chairs for the front porch. The addition had a big bedroom downstairs and a room that Bert said could be used when Curly installed indoor plumbing some day when it became available. Curly didn’t think that would ever happen, but there was a good solid door and a window in the room, so Bert talked him into keeping his commode in that room.
There was plenty of room upstairs in the addition for two more bedrooms and all Curly would have to do was put up a partition. Having the barn attached to the house bothered Bert, but Curly insisted that a new wife wouldn’t mind, and that it was far more thoughtful to have the animals there so she wouldn’t have to go outside to feed them when it was forty below.
According to the Rolands and the rest of the crew, it was one of the best winters they had ever had. causing Bert to be thankful that he wouldn’t be around when they had a bad one. Having Sunday dinners and get togethers with the neighbours for musical evenings helped pass the time during the winter, but what really kept Bert’s spirits up were Ernie’s letters. The first one he received answered all the questions Bert had been wondering about. Ernie liked Calgary, he had found a job, Ada had arrived, and they were married three weeks later. They were both disappointed that Bert wasn’t there to act as best man.
They had rented a little house on the outskirts of town, but they had no running water. It did have an outhouse that Ernie named the “Methodist Church.” Unfortunately, there was a storm one night and the next day Ada sent Ernie, who was working on the other side of Calgary, a message that the Methodist Church had blown over. This would have been humorous but there happened to be a real Methodist church in Calgary and Ada’s message caused the rector and the entire congregation to drop what they were doing and rush to the church to salvage what they could. Luckily, their church was intact and the person who started the rumour was never found, but Ada suggested that, henceforth, Ernie refrain from naming their future outhouses.
Ernie wrote that they were very upset to hear the news that England may be going to war. He suggested that if it should happen, he and Bert should wait for awhile before they returned to England to enlist, adding that with any luck, England would defeat Germany in short order. He said that Chris and the rest of their brothers were already working in manufacturing jobs. His letters were very entertaining, and Bert could imagine how the family were enjoying the ones he wrote to them. According to Ernie’s letters, Ada was proving to be a great wife and a jolly good sport. He said that when the place where he was employed closed down, he took on the task of digging a well for a farmer. Thinking it would make a romantic honeymoon, he bought a tent and pitched it out on the prairie where he was digging the well.
He made their beds out of hay and Ada, who had lived all her life in a city and never had an occasion to get her shoes dirty, never complained; that is until the middle of the first night when she was wakened by the sounds of a cow munching on hay beside her head. The animal had managed to get its head under the tent and was having a great feed eating her bed. She was naturally alarmed and woke Ernie to tell him they had an intruder. Ernie gave the cow a swift rap on its leg. As a result, the cow, a cheeky animal according to Ada, reacted with a swift kick to Ernie’s head, leaving a bump there the size of a goose egg. As dangerous as this was for Ernie, Bert couldn’t help but laugh as he pictured the whole fiasco.
The next letter Bert received, Ernie wrote that he and Ada lived in the tent until October when they had their first snow blizzard. The weather dropped below zero and one night when they were sleeping, the tent blew down. There they were laying out in the prairie in their nightclothes with nothing but snow for a blanket. So ended their honeymoon! Ernie had noticed a room that had once been part of the dairy farmer’s house but was now detached. He asked the farmer if he could use it and the farmer said yes. It only had three sides so Ernie used his tent to make the other side. They had a little stove and if Ada made a milk pudding and put it in the oven one day, it wouldn’t be done until the following day. They could, however, manage to boil water for their tea.
Finally, Ernie lost patience with digging and decided to use dynamite. Oh, no, Bert thought, not another repeat of Queen Bess’ canons! He was even more worried as he kept reading; the dynamite was frozen so Ernie decided to thaw it out in the oven. Ada insisted on staying right beside him, saying that if he was going to be blown to heaven (she was certain it wouldn’t be hell,) she intended to go with him. The dynamite thawed, the well was blown, water came in, and both Ada and Ernie were still all together.
Ernie’s job was finished, and they were ready to move back into town but by then their car was buried in snow. Fortunately, Ernie had gone to town to buy some tools before the blizzard, and he went to a bakery where they were selling twelve loaves of bread for a quarter. He had bought twenty-four loaves for fifty cents. Luckily, they soon froze, so they were able to thaw a loaf whenever needed. The farmer said they could have as much milk as they could use, so three times a day they ate bread and drank milk until they finally got a ride to town with the milk wagon. Ada’s only complaint was that she had gained seven pounds. Having Ernie’s letters helped Bert from being lonesome.