Ch. 4 -The Owner Begins His Search

The Owner Begins His Search

We found ourselves held captive by the winter storm that made us wonder if we’d ever see the sun rise again. Time seemed to stand still. All we had were our thoughts and memories of a past life. Dreams of the future wouldn’t form in the wall of snow that blocked our view. And while we sat unable to move, what about the man who owned all these wagons and oxen? Where was he?

The fact that I write these words is proof enough that I survived. After meeting up with Stevenson, I could listen to his story. He wasn’t dallying anywhere but had encountered his own nightmare. I know that a story loses part of its truth when it’s repeated by listeners, so when we finally arrived in Fort Abercrombie we heard him tell it firsthand. 

Here is the story as he told it:

  I want to tell you, boys, my thoughts were with you all the while. I had business in Osakis I had to tend to and then set out by stagecoach, making it to Pomme de Terre to stay overnight. Leaving there, we thought we could reach Abercrombie next morning, but a fine mist coming from the northwest started creeping over the prairie. The storm came upon us so fast that we had all we could do to button down the flaps on the coach. The wind hit our rig head on and the exposed driver became blinded by the snow and since he had to hold the reins in both hands we took turns keeping his face and eyes wiped off.

Soon we were driving blindly. Only the sure-footedness of the horses kept us on the trail. I got into the driver’s seat and drove the team for awhile, but after making our way, the team suddenly stopped. The passengers shouted out wondering what was the matter when just then a man stuck his head out of a cabin door to welcome us. We had arrived at a stage station and didn’t know it. After spending the evening, we reached Abercrombie where I was able to rent a team of Canadian ponies with a sleigh and continue on my way. 

I made it to Faribault’s station at Pigeon Point for another stopover and took off next morning in a snowstorm. A few miles out, I ran into a dog team and sleigh carrying mail and a discharged soldier from Fort Ransom. They were drunk but with the wind at their backs should’ve been all right. As I went on the storm intensified and I had to turn back but my horses shied at a black spot in the snow. I stopped to check and found one of the drunken men who’d been on the dog sled. He was frozen stiff but still alive, and I managed to get him into my sleigh. Not long after I came upon the dog sled with the dogs still hitched to it. I don’t know where the musher was, but I wanted to release the dogs. The team’s leader leaped at me and almost got me by the throat so I decided to leave them as they were.

A welcome sight of smoke rising from a campsite of traders on the river appeared where I could stop and spend the night. They helped unload the frozen man and took him by the fire to start rubbing him down. By morning they had him awake and talking and I was able to start looking for my outfit again. I had an Indian companion now and whenever we reached a ravine we had to unhitch the horses and draw the sled across and let the ponies wallow through as best they could.

Stevenson finally makes it through to his stalled wagons and what does he find? Next week’s installment will provide the answers.