A Few Experiences in the New and More Prosperous Field.
The life of the land hunter is at nearly all times a strenuous one. He
daily experiences hardships such as working his way up rivers with many
swift waters, and crossing lakes in birch-bark canoes, in wind storms
and in rain; fording streams when he has no boat and when the banks are
too far apart to make a temporary bridge by felling trees across the
channel; building rafts to cross rivers and lakes; climbing through
windfalls; crossing miles of swamp where the bog bottom will scarcely
support his weight, and where, when night overtakes him he must
temporize a bed of poles on which to lay his weary body to protect it
from the wet beneath him; and traveling sometimes all day in an open and
burnt country with his bed and board upon his back, the sun's hot rays
pressing like a heavy weight upon his head, while myriads of black flies
swarm about him and attack every exposed inch of his skin, even
penetrating through the hair of his head. These are a few of his
experiences, and, if these had not their offsets at certain times, his
life would become indeed unbearable. His health, however, and his
appetite are generally as good as are enjoyed by any class of the human
family. Possessing these advantages gives him much buoyancy of spirit,
and, when a good piece of country in the timber is encountered, he is
quick to forget the trials and the hardships of the hour before, and to
enjoy the improved prospects.
There is doubt whether or not anything finer enters into the joy of
living than being in the solitude of the great unbroken forest,
surrounded by magnificent, tall, straight, beautiful pine trees, on a
day when the sun is casting shadows through their waving tops, listening
to the whisperings, formed almost into words, of the needle-like fingers
of their leafy boughs, to the warbling of the songsters, and to the
chirping of the almost saucy, yet sociable red squirrel who is sure to
let one know that he has invaded his dominion. Such days, with such
scenes and emotions, do come in the life of the woodsman, the land
hunter, who is alone in the forest, except that if he be at all
sentimental, he approaches nearer to the Great Creator than at almost
any other time in his life's experiences. Those who have read the books
of John Borroughs, John Muir, or Ernest Thompson Seton, may appreciate
somewhat the joy that comes to the woodsman in his solitude, if he be a
lover of nature.
Those only, who have been through the experience, can fully realize how
anxious the land looker is to secure the descriptions of valuable lands
that he has found when out on one of his cruises, for he knows full well
that it is probable that he is not the only man who is in the woods at
that time, for the same objects as his own. Sometimes, but rarely, two
such men may meet in the forest while at their work. When this occurs,
it is a courteous meeting, but attended with much concealed
embarrassment, for each knows that the other has found him out, and, if
either is in possession of a valuable lot of minutes which he hopes to
secure when he reaches the land office, he assumes that the other is
probably in possession of the same descriptions, or, at least, a part of
them. It then becomes a question which one shall outwit or outtravel the
other, from that moment, in a race to the land office where his minutes
must be entered, and to the victor belong the spoils, which means in
this instance, to the one who is first there to apply for the entry of
his land descriptions.
While on one of these cruises on a tributary of the Wisconsin River,
with one man only for help and companion, I had left my man, Charlie, on
the section line with the two pack sacks, while I had gone into the
interior of the section, to survey some of its forties, and to make an
estimate of the feet of pine timber standing on each forty. It was in
midsummer and in a beautiful piece of forest. Thrifty pine trees were
growing amongst the hard woods of maple, birch, and rock elm. Having
completed my work in the interior of the section, and having returned,
as I believed, to a point within a hundred yards of where Charlie was, I
gave the woodsman's call, then listened for Charlie's answer, in order
that I might go directly to the point whence it should come. On reaching
Charlie, I picked up my pack and started following the section line. We
had traveled less than a quarter of a mile on the line, when I saw on
the ground, a pigeon stripped of its feathers. I picked up the bird and
found that its body was warm. Immediately I knew that other land lookers
were in the same field and had undoubtedly been resting on that section
line at the time I had called for Charlie, and they, hearing our voices,
had hastily picked up their packs and started on their way out.
There was much pine timber in this township that yet belonged to the
government and to the state of Wisconsin. I, at this time, had
descriptions of more than four thousand acres of these lands which I was
anxious to buy. My interest and anxiety, therefore, became intense when
I knew that my presence had been discovered by the parties who had so
unintentionally left that bird on their trail. There were no railroads
in that part of the country at that time, and Stevens Point, the
location of the government land office, lay more than sixty-five miles
south of where we then were. Twenty-five miles of this distance was
mostly through the woods and must be traveled on foot. It was then late
in the afternoon and neither party could make progress after dark. The
route through the woods led through a swamp, and, upon reaching it, the
tracks of two men were plainly to be seen in the moss, and in places in
the wet ground. One man wore heavy boots, with the soles well driven
with hobnails, which left their imprints in the moist soil. Coming to a
trail that led off into a small settlement, we saw the tracks of one of
the two men following that trail. The tracks of the man with the
hobnails kept directly on in the course leading to the nearest highway
that would take him to Wausau, a thriving lumber town, forty miles
distant from Stevens Point. We reached this road at about three o'clock
in the afternoon of the next day. We called at the first house
approached, and asked the woman if she could give us some bread and
milk, and, being answered in the affirmative, we sat down for a rest,
and inquired of her if she had seen a woodsman pass. She replied that
she had, and that he had left there within an hour of the time of our
arrival. The tracks of the boots with the hobnails could be seen
occasionally along the road, and, knowing that the stage, the only
public conveyance from Wausau to Stevens Point, was not due to leave
Wausau for Stevens Point until four o'clock the next morning, we had no
further anxiety about overtaking the woodsman who had left there an hour
in advance, since we reasoned that he would probably take the stage at
its usual hour of leaving, the next day.
[Illustration: "There were many waterfalls". (Page 136.)]
From that time on, the journey was leisurely made, and we entered Wausau
at a late hour, when most of the laboring community had retired for the
night. Having gone to my accustomed hotel, and changed my clothes, I
next walked over to a livery stable and hired a team which I drove to
Stevens Point during the night, arriving there in time for breakfast. I
then went to the home of the land officer before eating my breakfast,
told him that I wished to make some entries that morning, and asked him
at what hour the land office would be open; and, seeing that my time
agreed with that of the land officer, told him that I would be there
promptly at nine o'clock, the legal hour for opening the office. I made
entry of the list of lands belonging to the United States government,
and was told to return at eleven o'clock to compare the duplicate
receipts with my application to enter the lands. While I was thus
engaged, the stage from Wausau arrived, and a man came into the land
office, wearing a pair of boots with hobnails that looked very much the
size of the tracks that I had been previously observing on my way out
from the woods to Wausau. He immediately asked for the township plat
which represented the lands which I had been so anxious to secure. He
began reading the descriptions of the lands he wished to enter, and, as
he read them, I heard with much interest, the same descriptions that
were in my own list, but there were some that were different. Whenever a
description was read that checked with one in my list, the land officer
replied that those lands were entered. This occurred so many times that
he soon inquired when the lands had been entered. He was told, "At nine
o'clock this morning." In his perplexity he had also read some of the
descriptions that belonged to the state of Wisconsin and which had to be
purchased at the land office at Madison, the capital of the state.
"Well," he remarked, "this is hard luck, but I may secure my state land
descriptions."
I always kept a balance of money with the state treasurer at Madison,
with which to pay for lands whenever I should send a list by mail or
otherwise, when I did not care to go personally with the descriptions.
The man having left the land office, I repaired immediately to the
telegraph office and wired the descriptions of the lands I wished to
enter, to the chief clerk of the land office at Madison, authorizing him
to draw on my account with the state treasurer, to pay for the same. The
train left Stevens Point that afternoon for Madison, and both interested
parties were passengers. Arriving at the land office, I found the lands
telegraphed for, to have been duly secured.
This instance is given to show by how slender a thread a matter of
great interest sometimes hangs. Had the pigeon not been left on the
section line, or had it not been discovered by the competing land
hunter, the man with the hobnails in his boots would have been the
victor, and his would have been the joy of having won that which he had
striven hard to attain.