Settlers of the Marsh

PENGUIN CLASSICS
SUNSHINE SKETCHES OF A LITTLE TOWN
FREDERICK PHILIP GROVE was born Felix Paul Grève in Radomno, West Prussia (now Poland), in 1879. He studied philology and archeology in Bonn and Rome, and became a prolific translator of World Literature. In 1912, Grove arrived in Manitoba, Canada, where he worked as a schoolteacher in rural areas. He married fellow teacher Catherine Wiens in 1914, and in 1922 settled in Rapid City, Manitoba, to teach and write. The Groves moved to Ontario in the fall of 1929, where he was briefly an editor with Graphic Publishers. Grove is the author of numerous books, including Over Prairie Trails, Settlers of the Marsh, A Search for America, Our Daily Bread, and Fruits of the Earth. He died in 1948 in Simcoe, Ontario.
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Penguin Classics edition copyright © Penguin Group (Canada), 2006.
This edition is an unabridged reprint of Settlers of the Marsh, published in 1925 by The
Ryerson Press.
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ISBN-13: 978-0-670-06509-7
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To Arthur L. Phelps
CONTENTS
I Mrs. Lund
II Niels
III Ellen
IV Mrs. Lindstedt
V Bobby
VI Ellen Again
A NOTE ON THE TEXT
This Penguin Classics edition is a reprint of the first edition of 1925, published by The Ryerson Press. Obvious errors have been silently corrected. A U.S. edition was published by George H. Doran in New York in the same year. McClelland & Stewart published its New Canadian Library editions in 1966 and 1989, respectively.
CHAPTER ONE
MRS. LUND
On the road leading north from the little prairie town Minor two men were fighting their way through the gathering dusk.
Both were recent immigrants; one, Lars Nelson, a giant, of three years’ standing in the country; the other, Niels Lindstedt, slightly above medium size, but compactly built, of only three months’. Both were Swedes; and they had struck up a friendship which had led to a partnership for the winter that was coming. They had been working on a threshing gang between Minor and Balfour and were now on their way into the bush settlement to the north-east where scattered homesteads reached out into the wilderness.
It was the beginning of the month of November.
Niels carried his suitcase on his back; Nelson, his new friend’s bundle, which also held the few belongings of his own which he had along. He wore practically the same clothes winter and summer.
Above five miles from town they reached, on the north road, the point where the continuous settlement ran out into the wild, sandy land which, forming the margin of the Big Marsh, intervened between the territory of the towns and the next Russo-German settlement to the north, some twenty miles or so straight ahead.
At this point the road leapt the Muddy River and passed through its sheltering fringe of bush to strike out over a sheer waste of heath-like country covered with low, creeping brush. The wind which had been soughing through the tree tops had free sweep here; and an exceedingly fine dust of dry, powdery ice-crystals began to fly—you could hardly call it snow so far.
It did not occur to Niels to utter or even harbour apprehensions. His powerful companion knew the road; where he went, Niels could go.
They swung on, for the most part in silence.
The road became a mere trail; but for a while longer it was plainly visible in the waning light of the west; in the smooth ruts a film of white was beginning to gather.
The wind came in fits and starts, out of the hollow north-west; and with the engulfing dark an ever thickening granular shower of snow blew from the low-hanging clouds. As the trail became less and less visible, the very ground underfoot seemed to slide to the south-east.
By that time they had made about half the distance they intended to make.
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