Masters of the Wheat-Lands

A bitter frost blankets the endless prairie, turning the rolling fields around Lander’s into a moon‑lit sea of white. In this remote settlement of wooden houses, a modest hotel and a handful of barns, the residents cling to a hard‑won optimism, staking their meager savings and relentless toil on the promise of a brighter future. The scene is set in Stukely’s warm barn, where a glowing stove fights the cold and a keg of Ontario cider invites anyone to help themselves.

Inside, a lively mix of newcomers—Englishmen, Scots, French Canadians, and Ontario bushmen—fills the space with music and dance. A fiery‑haired Highlander drives a fierce fiddle while a quieter French Canadian counters with low, clanging chords, their sounds weaving a vibrant tapestry that spurs the crowd into a spirited quadrille. Among them stands Gregory Hawtrey, a tall, blue‑eyed Englishman whose boyish grin and easy confidence make him instantly likable, even as the harsh landscape tests every newcomer’s resolve.