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The Peace Hills Agency 
Letter to the Editor of the Regina Leader, late 1880s.

 It was my duty, a few weeks ago, to visit the Methodist Missionaries on their agency, in the company of the Rev. J. McDougall; and I crave a little of your valuable space that I may recount the circumstances of our visit, and also give my impressions of as to the good work the missionaries and the Government are doing among the Indians. 

The drive north from Calgary is delightful. We left the ambitious city about two p.m. on the last Tuesday in June, and camped for the night forty miles on our journey. The next evening found us ninety-five miles further, at a place called "Blind Man's River." Being curious to know why such a name was given to this river, we made diligent enquiry, and were informed that in the early days the Indians called it "Burned Eye." But whose eye was burnt, or where or why it was burnt, is a problem which we generously bequeath to the Historical Society. 

Thursday, 6 a.m., found us driving at a rattling pace towards the stony reserves on Wolf Creek, which place we reached shortly after nine; and found the missionary, the Rev. John Nelson, in the school house, busy with the pupils, all of whom were not only well clad, clean, and healthy looking, but manifested great intelligence and deep interest in their studies. After an excellent dinner, provided by Mrs. Nelson, we drove on to Battle River. The scenery from Lone Pine to Wolf Creek is very good, but this drive along Battle River is perfectly charming. The varied scenery, the undulating country, the bluffs of timber which impress the traveler that he is being driven through a park, together with Battle River which gracefully winds through the district, present a picture rarely equaled, and once seen not easily forgotten. Westward, Bear Hill boldly faces the traveler, while eastward "Koh-me-ahog-wilh-gees," the wooded mountain, twenty miles long, rises in a graceful slope, the top and sides covered with poplar, spruce, birch and willow trees. The Methodist Mission, of which the Rev. Glass, B.A., is incumbent, is located a few miles beyond the terminus of this hill, on a beautiful curve of the Battle River. The mission house has been refitted since the Indian raid a year ago, but the loss has not yet been made good, although the claim has been properly laid before the Government. 

On Friday morning we drove down Battle River Eastward for fifteen or twenty miles, to see the country. There are some beautiful sights, land rich, timber good, grass luxuriant, and small fruits in abundance. On Saturday we visited Bear's Hill and spent the entire day with the late Muddy Bull band. Here we met Mr. Lucas, the Indian agent, with whom we had a long talk, and who impressed us as being deeply interested in the material programs and development of the Indians. The news of our arrival was soon noised abroad, and it surprised me much, to find how quickly the Indians assembled to greet us. After a genial hand shaking, we entered the wig-wam of the late chief, Muddy Bull, whose widow we found seated on a bed of furs. When she saw Mr. McDougall, she gave way to feelings of uncontrollable grief. Her husband has died since Mr. McDougall's last visit, and the sight of his face brought afresh to her memory, her great sorrow. We gathered the chief men together, and introduced a new teacher, Mr. C. E. Somerset, of Calgary. The Indians were glad to see him and cheerfully promised to render all the aid they could in erecting a school house, and sending their children to school. It was now lunch time, we had brought food but had forgotten to bring our tea and kettle: so Mrs. Muddy Bull made tea  . . . 


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