A Trip to Manitoba by Mary FitzGibbon
page 55 of 160 (34%)
page 55 of 160 (34%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
the bottom; somebody else was searching wildly for a rope and axe, which
proved to be _nowhere_; everybody was giving a different opinion on the best means of extricating ourselves, only uniting in one thing, namely, abuse of the driver, who stood knee-deep in mud, hitching up his trousers and muttering something about _le detour_. We women, meantime, tried to quiet the screaming children, and prevent the "unconsidered trifles" which filled the corners of the waggon from falling out--a duty not unattended with danger, as pussy, on guard over her nursery, and excited by the general _bouleversement_, gave a spiteful claw to any foot or hand which approached too near her box. No rope, axe, nor chain, could be found; there was nothing but mud on every side to unload in, and not a house for miles to shelter us for the night. Fortunately, before very long a waggon passed on the high-road, whose occupants were a kindly Irishman, his wife, and child. "Faith, is it help ye want, yer honour? It's meself never refused help to any man," said Paddy; and jumping down, he produced a chain. Fastening the tongue of the waggon to one end, and the horses to the other, he drove them up to the high-road, where, having firmer foothold, a few pulls drew us out of the mud-hole. We thanked the old man for his help, but saw him and his chain depart with regret. Having better horses and a lighter load, he soon left us far behind. On we jogged, sometimes on the road, but more often off it, driving through every clump of trees that grew in our way, as the roots gave some firmness to the swampy ground. Now and then, when returning to the road, the waggon would almost stick, but, after a lunge, pull, and struggle, attended by a volley of French from our Jehu and a screech from the women, it righted itself again. A little later we passed the teams that |
|