Ernestly ?!Ernestly ?!By ERNIE NEUFELD, Weyburn Review Associate Publisher
Sounds politically incorrect nowadays, but seen in the context of 1930s lifestyles and mores, it is understandable that anything bringing neighbours and friends together from near and far, was something of a social occasion.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Last week we looked at the personal account by the late Art Shelstad of the Torquay area, of a rabbit drive held in the 1930s, radiating outward from the family farm.
As mentioned, my quest for information on the subject reaped a greater volume of material than I had bargained for, so now - you lucky people - you get more on the subject.
Weyburn historian Isabelle Eaglesham - whose archives and knowledge of historical material pertaining to Weyburn an area seem inexhaustible - has been kind enough to supply me with several pages from the history book, The Way We Were, published for the town of Radville a few years ago. These contain stories dealing with 1935 and 1936 rabbit drives in the south country - a few years later than the drive described in the interview of Mr. Shelstad by Mrs. Viola Halvorson.
One story, by one Reinhard Marks, confirms that the drives were necessary to curb "these pests" (rabbits) "which destroyed stacked feed as well as crops and gardens." He describes them as "social occasions as well, in which every man, woman and child who could walk would take part." Again, corrals were used toward which walkers, a few rods apart at the starting point, would herd the animals. Closer to the corral, solid lines of people were formed from the wings out, forcing the rabbits into a smaller circle. "In order to flush out the rabbits cans filled with rocks were rattled which scared them" into the desired direction. Walkers would be assisted by riders securing the sides.
According to this writer the "best time for a drive was when the temperature was well below freezing. The crunching of the snow when you walked on it seemed to bring the rabbits out in the best way. When the temperature was mild they didn't appear to move until you got close to them and then they would duck back through an opening in the circle."
Mr. Marks explains that rabbits killed in the roundup were skinned and the carcasses sold to a mink rancher. It was said that a man in Big Beaver paid the Warken brothers three cents per hide after one drive which netted some 1,500 animals. The skinning job took three days to complete.
The other story, with no author credited, notes that up to 100 to 150 people took part in a drive.
A Review story dated Feb. 12, 1934, tells of 2,194 jackrabbits slaughtered in the Beaubier and Lake Alma district in a single drive. Organization of this drive, including construction of a strong corral, took up a full week.
In a March, 1933, Review story, the rabbits are described as "a menace to crops and trees." The pests had been driven farther west than usual from the southeast of the province during the winter months due to the heavy snow. They converged on the Midale, Bromhead, Goodwater, Colgate and other neighbouring areas, and "they may be seen in droves at any time, farmers from those districts declare."
At a Bromhead drive, 220 jacks were rounded up and killed in one drive, and other drives near Goodwater and Midale resulted in the destruction of 5,000 of "these graceful gallopers of the open spaces."
This account also mentions a wolf and a fox rounded up in the enclosure, but "these wily denizens of the prairies merely hopped over the wire fence and beat it."
A story in the July 28, 1932, issue of the Review tells of an incident that might be considered an omen of the rabbit problem ahead. Driving the family car toward her home in the North Weyburn district, Mrs. L.G. Holdstock suddenly noticed a jackrabbit on the highway ahead of her car. She slowed down to give the "rangy denizen" a chance to escape her headlight, and seemed to be successful.
She resumed speed and suddenly she "espied a jackrabbit - either the same one or another member of the species - coming straight for her car. The next thing she knew the jackrabbit hopped onto the fender of the car and from there onto the hood of the car - and crashed clean through the windshield."
Mrs. Holdstock was unhurt, but with broken pieces of windshield glass all around her. The rabbit had disappeared in the car interior, but when she had recovered from the shock and stepped out of the car. "the jackrabbit stepped out with her, apparently unhurt, and hopped off into the darkness of the night!"
I cannot help wondering how many times Beatrice Holdstock, in almost exactly 65 years that she survived that harrowing incident, retold the story of the durable jackrabbit. Mrs. Holdstock, who passed away in midsummer of 1997, was a prominent area citizen all her life, active in many local organizations.
An interesting commentary on aging: Wryly lamenting the afflictions visited upon most of us by Father Time, Glenn Vinge recently compared each coffee row session with an overview of Gray's Anatomy. That will be endorsed by many amens.
My address (also listed on the Review's Website) is ernestly@pathcom.com.
Box 400, 904 East Avenue
Weyburn, SK
S4H 2K4
Phone: (306) 842-7487
Fax: (306) 842-0282
E-mail: production@weyburnreview.com
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Review (1987) Ltd.
