Fort Qu'Appelle Museum
Located beside the Qu'Appelle River on the site of the original trading post and fort, 198 Bay Avenue North.
Open daily June 1st to August 31st from 1 to 5 p.m.
Phone: (306)332-5751 to arrange for a visit at other times.
Located at the corner of Pl. de L'Eglise & St. Joseph Avenue, the east entrance to the community centre.
Open May 24th to September 1st from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m., Tuesday to Sunday
Phone: (306)332-4597, 332-6838 or 332-6681 to arrange for a tour.
Qu'Appelle Valley Historical Moments from Voice of the Valley Radio, 88.3 FM
Fort Qu'Appelle Pal Finders Web Site, Seamus Hughes' site
Qu'Appelle: Past, Present and Future
A web site, created by the Mendel Art Gallery in Saskatoon, that explores the culture, history, industry and spirituality of the many people who call the Qu'Appelle Valley home.
The Architectural Heritage Society Models of Historic Valley Buildings
Wheat And Woman
Georgina Binnie-Clark's book about farming in the Fort Qu'Appelle area at the turn of the 20th century. The Open Library makes this book available online.
The Fort Qu'Appelle Geolog The Valleys - Past and Present
The geolog published in 1977 has been revived, enhanced and placed on the web by the Centre for Mathematics, Science and Technology Education from the University of Regina. It was targeted at middle years students and teachers but is a marvelous virtual tour of the valley with a wealth of interesting information about the flora, fauna and of course the geology of the valley.
Annual Treaty 4 Gathering
The third week in September to commemorate the signing of Treaty Four on September 15, 1874.
For more information call: (306) 332-1874
Treaty 4 Grounds
Lebret Metis Farm Cultural Days
Second Weekend in August
For more information call (306) 332-5588
Qu'Appelle Valley Saskatchewan
The Buffy Saint Marie song about our valley.
I am the one who loved her as my life,
Had watched her grow to a sweet young womanhood:
Won the dear privilege to call her wife,
And found the world, because of her, was good.
I am the one who heard the spirit voice
Of which the paleface settlers love to tell:
From whose strange story they have made their choice
Of naming this fair valley the "Qu'Appelle."
She had said fondly in my eager ear-
"When Indian summer smiles with dusky lip,
Come to the lakes, I will be first to hear
The welcome music of thy paddle dip.
I will be first to lay on thine my hand,
To whisper words of greeting on the shore;
And when thou would'st return to thine own land,
I'll go with thee, thy wife for evermore."
Not yet a leaf had fallen, not a tone
Of frost upon the plain ere I set forth,
Impatient to possess her as my own -
This queen of all the women of the North.
I rested not at even or at dawn,
But journeyed all th dark and daylight through -
Until I reached the Lakes, and hurrying on,
I launched upon their bosom my canoe.
Of sleep or hunger then I took no heed,
But hastened o'er their leagues of waterways:
But my host heart outstripped my paddle's speed
And waited not for distance or for days,
But flew before me swifter than the blade
Of magic paddle ever cleaved the Lake,
Eager to lay its love before the maid,
And watch the lovelight in her eyes awake.
So the long days went slowly drifting past:
It seemed that half my life must intervene
Before the morrow, then I said at last -
"One more day's journey and I win my queen."
I rested then, and, drifting, dreamed the more
Of all the happiness I was to claim -
When suddenly from out of the shadowed shore,
I heard a voice speak tenderly my name.
"Who calls?" I answered; no reply; and long
I stilled my paddle blade and listened. Then
Above the night wind's melancholy song
I heard distinctly that strange voice again -
A woman's voice, that through the twilight came
Like to a soul unborn - song unsung.
I leaned and listened - yes, she spoke my name,
And then I answered in the quaint French tongue,
"Qu'Appelle? Qu'Appelle?" No answer, and the night
Seemed stiller for the sound, till round me fell
The far-off echoes from the far-off height -
"Qu'Appelle?" My voice came back, "Qu'Appelle? Qu'Appelle?"
This - and no more; I called aloud until
I shuddered as the gloom of night increased,
And, like a pallid specter wan and chill,
The moon arose in silence in the east.
I dare not linger on the moment when
My boat I beached beside her teepee door;
I heard the wail of women and of men,
I saw the death-fires lighted on the shore
No language tells the torture or the pain,
The bitterness that flooded all my life,
When I was led to look on her again,
That queen of women pledged to be my wife.
To look upon the beauty of her face
The still closed eyes, the lips that knew no breath;
To look, to learn - to realize my place
Had been usurped by my one rival - Death.
A storm of wrecking sorrow beat and broke
About my heart, and life shut out its light
Till through my anguish someone gently spoke,
And said, "Twice did she call for thee last night."
I started up - and bending o'er my dead,
Asked when her sweet lips in silence close.
"She called thy name - then passed away," they said.
"Just on the hour whereat the moon arose."
Among the lonely Lakes I go no more,
For she who made their beauty is not there;
The paleface rears his teepee on the shore
And says the vale is fairest of fair.
Full many years have vanished since, but still
The voyageurs beside the campfire tell
How, when the moonrise tips the distant hill,
They hear strange voices through the silence swell.
The paleface loves the haunted lakes they say,
And journeys far to watch their beauty spread
Before his vision; but to me the day,
The night, the hour, the seasons are all dead.
I listen heartsick, while the hunters tell
Why white men named the valley The Qu'Appelle.