It was somewhere near my fourth birthday when we moved to the newly built house one half mile north of Potvin’s. During the late 1920s, farming in the North Battleford area had paid well and new houses were started by Dad for Grandma and Dave, and for our own family. But when the depression threatened, there was a decision made not to go into debt to get more material to finish. As a result neither house ever got finished. The one at the Grandparents didn’t get beyond a concrete basement with a cistern below, ours got no foundation at all.

I remember that move well. The hay-rack was loaded with furniture, bedding and whatever, but there was still a little space right at the back where I could nestle in. Dad drove the team of horses pulling the load and I felt very proud that from my position at the back of the rack, I watched the brindle milk cow tided behind. It was one of those beautiful calm fall days and lying there in the sun traveling slowly at a walk, I fell asleep. When I wakened on arrival, I felt so guilty that I had been so lax in the performance of my task as to fall asleep. Now, I’m sure that Dad gave me the task only to make me fell important in helping with the move. He probably knew that the cow would give no trouble while being led to our new home.

Not long after we moved into the new house there was a day when just Mother and I where home. We had a visit from some of the family that then lived in the log house where I had spent my first years. The mother and her son spoke no English but they were accompanied by an older daughter who had been in Canada a few years and was able to translate well enough so that Mother and the boy’s mother could visit a little. The boy, whom his elders called “Steffen”, was about my age but was much bigger. I’m not sure where he found the hatchet found at the nearby Indian camp and mentioned in my story “Harry and Bud get a Scare “ but he had it and was using it to chop up some of the trim boards that Dad had left lying on the ground on the south side of the house but still needed. I tried to get him to stop but, of course he could not understand a word of what I said. When I tried to force the issue that big guy took after me with the axe. I believe it was the third time in the chase around the house before I could gain enough distance to get into the house and be rescued by our mothers. I guess that visit was not the best for any of us.