| The Lost Landscape
We stand where the big white house once stood, and scan the farm from east to west. Directly In front of us, stretching to the southern end of the farm, hard cracked ground supports areas of tall reeds. Something is missing. Then stretching the one half mile west; (the length of the homestead), is a broad and boring treeless field. Again, something is missing.
What did Fred and Maria see around them when they settled on the land? What was the landscape during their children's growing years? What influenced Fred to chose that particular homestead? What driving force urged the young homesteaders to put their hearts and souls into improving their lot?
Down the slope in front of the home was a lake (really a slough) that joined a much larger lake in the distance – a lake that covered the area where the neighboring farms intersected with Fred's land. With closed eyes we visualize the rest of the land. Except for a large meadow near the south boundary, and a smaller meadow surrounded by willows, west of the barnyard, the land was covered with trees – poplar, birch, spruce and a tangle of smaller bushes. (When I was small there were a half dozen poplars near a garage about 200 feet west of the white house!)
Directly ahead, between the lake and our southern neighbor, were dense woods. I especifically remember it because Mother and I carried chopped grain and water to a sow that had her piglets in those woods. The large animal lay behind a fallen tree that was partly kept up by its branches; thus creating a simple fence between the animal and us. Mother leaned over the fallen tree and deposited the food to the hungry animal.
According to the rules and regulations for homesteaders, certain improvements to the land were required within the first three years. If these were met then the land remained the homesteader's property.
The first few acres of land that Fred broke included the level area in the middle of the farm. At that time Fred owned a team of oxen. The animals were strong but oh, so very slow. While Fred handled a walking plough, Maria walked alongside with a whip to urge the slow beasts forward. They would just as soon have stopped as taken another step. It was a happy day when sometime later Fred traded the oxen for a team of horses.
However, when the wooded area where we fed the sow was broken, Fred had help from a man who owned a steam engine tractor. I remember it as a big ugly machine with a large tank for water. But it did the work well; pulled out roots with ease.
In order to prevent soil erosion, as well as to preserve native vegetations, Fred left swaths of vegetation between fields. Those areas protected chokecherries, saskatoons, wild rose bushes, wild raspberries, and strawberries, and a variety of native flowers. (While gathering hay or stooking, the berries helped to give us extra energy to carry on.)
It was on a meadow that Fred and Maria had a close encounter with bears. The hay had been cut with a scythe and allowed to dry. One day they gathered the hay with forks and stacked it into haycocks. Later, it would be hauled to the barn. John, their firstborn was about seven months old. They took with them a child's wagon that Fred had built and set John in it while they worked. At the end of the day they left the wagon on the meadow and carried the child home. The next day when they returned they saw bears. (Bears were often seen during those early days.) But this particular day a cub sat in the wagon and the mother bear had the wagon pole in her paws ready to give the little fellow a ride. (Bears disappeared as settlers moved in. However, in recent times, some 90 years later, they seem to be returning. When John ran the farm after Fred had died, bears would claw at a granary in search of grain.)
The western side of the homestead was broken when I was about eleven. Since it was not heavily wooded, Fred did it with horses and the whole family pitched in at root and rock picking times. Gladys or Helen usually stayed at home to wash the dishes and prepare soup for lunch. They were very dependable but because they too wanted to work with the gang, we took turns cooking. The first time I had a turn the lunch was a disaster! But Mother (miraculously) saved the day.
The vegetation left between fields provided a picturesque landscape as well as protection from the elements. After the harvest was completed the cattle were put on the fields to glean grain that was missed during the harvest. During inclement or hot weather, they sought the protection of the trees left by Fred.
Much of the northern part of the homestead remains undeveloped. The wooded ravines were too difficult to cultivate. That part of the farm is a happy reminder of the good old days.
Probably one of the greatest differences in the landscape of the early days and the present is the absence of the lake.
The Lake
The most calming aspect of the landscape was the presence of water. We heard the chorus of geese honking and flapping their wins on the shore, the mallards and smaller waterfowl gracefully swam or dove into the water. In the late summer a heron regularly visited our lake. It always stopped in the same location and like a statue, stood on one leg for long periods of time.
In the fall hunters sometimes came to our lake. They generally asked Fred for permission to hunt. Fred agreed but he himself did not wish to kill wildlife just for sport. In time, the hunters got the message as fewer turned up.
When the lake froze, a strip of snow was shoveled off for skating or just sliding. On Sunday afternoons young people in the community joined us. Few youngsters owned skates. But our inventor, Mike, nailed a strip of metal between two pieces of wood. He fastened them to the bottom of his boots and skated. His patent was copied by other ambitious folk.
During my growing years I remember the lake being there at all times. However, it underwent a major change that had Fred concerned.
During the early years each homesteader was required to do road improvements in lieu of taxes; one day per year per farm. Each farmer provided an operator, a team of horses and a ‘ fresno ' or ‘slip', (metal scoops to move soil). Years later the municipality acquired road-building machines, and the farmers were not required to participate.
One summer a truckload of gravel was dumped and packed down into a low spot on the road that circled the lake. The procedure, like a dam, stopped the natural underground flow of water from the lake and so Fred's lake grew larger and larger and flooded much of the grazing area around it. Fred was most unhappy but his complaints went unheeded.
However, in the last two decades the lake situation took a drastic turn in the opposite direction. The water table had dropped and the lake that was part of our lives disappeared. In time the larger lake dried up too. When I visit the farm I miss the water that was so much a part of my childhood.
The West Quarter
John Hrenuik, our western neighbor had a poor homestead. The southern part of his land had hills and rocks. While working his land, machinery was constantly breaking down. The land was not suitable for cultivation. The northern half consisted of deep ravines that ran to the river. The only positive aspect of that homestead was a creek that provided water for animals.
Although his intentions were honorable, our neighbor could not sustain his family on such poor land. Eventually he sold the land to Fred for $500. Fred used it mostly for hay and pasture.
When our neighbors were about to leave, Mrs. Hrenuik invited Maria to get raspberry plants from her garden. Until that time we picked only wild raspberries. Our mother, Helen and I got the plants. They produced large berries on tall plants; a real blessing. (Now some sixty years later, I still have the variety in my garden in Edmonton ) |