Grand Forks daily herald., 1914-11-19
CANADIAN VOLUNTEERS
AMONG bR|TA|N'S BEST
No English Troops Except the Finest London Regiments
Equal Them-Bank Presidents, Business Men, and
Ex-Mayors Found With Cowboys and Woodsmen in
Camp on Salisbury Plain, Which Reminds Them of
Canadian Prairies.
(By Herbert Corey.)

Salisbury Plain, England. Nov. 1S.
We rode toward little fire that
glowed in the dusk. The scent of
warm tired horses was in the air.
From this hollow and that came the
sound Of equine pickering. The hills
rose before us in long, even swells,
and dropped into depressions In which
a bunch Of cattle might hide against
a storm. Here and there tree pianta-
tions, at great distances from each
other might have been cottonwoods,
nesting in the elbow of a creek in
Alberta.
Look 1t over" said the colonel of
the Canadian contingent. isn't 1t
just like homer"
That was precisely it. That was
what made this camp Of 10000 Ca
madam volunteers SO unalterably
good to look at. That is why-or III
part why-they are contented and
happy. These rolling hills might be
in Alberta or North Dakota OF In an
other portion Of that great west which
the cattle man opened and the wheat
grower seized. The horses. barely
seen through the growing dark where
they are tethered to their lines, might
be the "cavvy'' OF one of those round
ups which are centimentally regretted
by every old cowpuncher. Even the
the muddy roads with train Of trans
port wagons battering behind. might
pass for "thrashing outfit" moving
from one ranch to another after the
days work was done. A candle shin
ing through the canvas walls Of tent
attracted us. We stepped to the door.
80 I told this mutt" said voice
that had not been formed by Eng
lands fogs. you tie your butter to the
other end of the table. Sabby? Don't
you never let 1t jump on my bread
Z no more"
British writer's have referred to the
= Canadian contingent as more Eng
lish than the English" That's pure
humor. They are British in their 10y
atty to the empire and in their anxiety
to get to the front. where the fighting
a homebred man who leavens the
snappy accents Of his mates by broad
English as or certain uncertainty
as to his his. But IL an American
from anywhere in that territory which
stretches from Galveston to Hudson's S
Bay were to drop into that camr
from an airship. totally ignorant of
his whereabouts. his first expression
, would be:
*. Home at last!'
~ just Like Our Prairies.
81 Everything adds to the illusion.
Mounted men gallop over the Sails
bury plains. which are like our rolling
prairie in every respect except that
the bunch grass has become turf, and
the sage brush Is lacking. They 81,
their horses in that easy fashion that
the cattle business teaches. Their
reins hang loose, but at touch the
horses stop and whirl as though the
were chasing yearling steers. The
horses have that choppy mile-annihi-
,lating gallop of western horses. They
are western horses. One meets an
army wagon on the road. The driver
hasn't the air of Thomas Atkins, set
to driving a team. He poses himself
differently. A martinez would sa'
that his lines hang slack. His horses
do not wear that aspect of dignity
and conservatism that distinguishes
the horse of the British Isles. They