CHAPTER III.

We arrived in Detroit safely, and a few minutes answered to land our

wagons and goods, when we rolled outward in a westerly direction. We

found a very muddy roads, stumps and log bridges plenty, making our rate

of travel very slow. When out upon our road about 30 miles, near

Ypsilanti, the thick forest we had been passing through grew thinner,

and the trees soon dwindled down into what they called oak openings, and

the road became more sandy. When we reached McCracken's Tavern we began

to enquire for Ebenezer Manley and family, and were soon directed to a

large house near by where he was stopping for a time.

We drove up to the door and they all came out to see who the new comers

were. Mother saw me first and ran to the wagon and pulled me off and

hugged and kissed me over and over again, while the tears ran down her

cheeks, Then she would hold me off at arm's length, and look me in the

eye and say--"I am so glad to have you again"; and then she embraced me

again and again. "You are our little man," said she, "You have come over

this long road, and brought us our good horse and our little wagon." My

sister Polly two years older than I, stood patiently by, and when mother

turned to speak to uncle and aunt, she locked arms with me and took me

away with her. We had never been separated before in all our lives and

we had loved each other as good children should, who have been brought

up in good and moral principles. We loved each other and our home and

respected our good father and mother who had made it so happy for us.

We all sat down by the side of the house and talked pretty fast telling

our experience on our long journey by land and water, and when the sun

went down we were called to supper, and went hand in hand to surround

the bountiful table as a family again. During the conversation at supper

father said to me--"Lewis, I have bought you a smooth bore rifle,

suitable for either ball or shot." This, I thought was good enough for

any one, and I thanked him heartily. We spent the greater part of the

night in talking over our adventures since we left Vermont, and sleep

was forgotten by young and old.

Next morning father and uncle took the horse and little wagon and went

out in search of Government land. They found an old acquaintance in

Jackson county and Government land all around him, and, searching till

they found the section corner, they found the number of the lots they

wanted to locate on--200 acres in all. They then went to the Detroit

land office and secured the pieces they had chosen.

Father now bought a yoke of oxen, a wagon and a cow, and as soon as we

could get loaded up our little emigrant train started west to our future

home, where we arrived safely in a few days and secured a house to live

in about a mile away from our land. We now worked with a will and built

two log houses and also hired 10 acres broken, which was done with three

or four yoke of oxen and a strong plow. The trees were scattered over

the ground and some small brush and old limbs, and logs which we cleared

away as we plowed. Our houses went up very fast--all rough oak logs,

with oak puncheons, or hewed planks for a floor, and oak shakes for a

roof, all of our own make. The shakes were held down upon the roof by

heavy poles, for we had no nails, the door of split stuff hung with

wooden hinges, and the fire place of stone laid up with the logs, and

from the loft floor upward the chimney was built of split stuff

plastered heavily with mud. We have a small four-paned window in the

house. We then built a log barn for our oxen, cow and horse and got

pigs, sheep and chickens as fast as a chance offered.

As fast as possible we fenced in the cultivated land, father and uncle

splitting out the rails, while a younger brother and myself, by each

getting hold of an end of one of them managed to lay up a fence four

rails high, all we small men could do. Thus working on, we had a pretty

well cultivated farm in the course of two or three years, on which we

produced wheat, corn and potatoes, and had an excellent garden. We found

plenty of wild cranberries and whortleberries, which we dried for winter

use. The lakes were full of good fish, black bass and pickerel, and the

woods had deer, turkeys, pheasants, pigeons, and other things, and I

became quite an expert in the capture of small game for the table with

my new gun. Father and uncle would occasionally kill a deer, and the

Indians came along and sold venison at times.

One fall after work was done and preparations were made for the winter,

father said to me:--"Now Lewis, I want you to hunt every day--come home

nights--but keep on till you kill a deer." So with his permission I

started with my gun on my shoulder, and with feelings of considerable

pride. Before night I started two deer in a brushy place, and they

leaped high over the oak bushes in the most affrighted way. I brought my

gun to my shoulder and fired at the bounding animal when in most plain

sight. Loading then quickly, I hurried up the trail as fast as I could

and soon came to my deer, dead, with a bullet hole in its head. I was

really surprised myself, for I had fired so hastily at the almost flying

animal that it was little more than a random shot. As the deer was not

very heavy I dressed it and packed it home myself, about as proud a boy

as the State of Michigan contained. I really began to think I was a

capital hunter, though I afterward knew it was a bit of good luck and

not a bit of skill about it.

It was some time after this before I made another lucky shot. Father

would once in a while ask me:--"Well can't you kill us another deer?" I

told him that when I had crawled a long time toward a sleeping deer,

that I got so trembly that I could not hit an ox in short range. "O,"

said he, "You get the buck fever--don't be so timid--they won't attack

you." But after awhile this fever wore off, and I got so steady that I

could hit anything I could get in reach of.

We were now quite contented and happy. Father could plainly show us the

difference between this country and Vermont and the advantages we had

here. There the land was poor and stony and the winters terribly severe.

Here there were no stones to plow over, and the land was otherwise easy

to till. We could raise almost anything, and have nice wheat bread to

eat, far superior to the "Rye-and-Indian" we used to have. The nice

white bread was good enough to eat without butter, and in comparison

this country seemed a real paradise.

The supply of clothing we brought with us had lasted until now--more

than two years--and we had sowed some flax and raised sheep so that we

began to get material of our own raising, from which to manufacture some

more. Mother and sister spun some nice yarn, both woolen and linen, and

father had a loom made on which mother wove it up into cloth, and we

were soon dressed up in bran new clothes again. Domestic economy of this

kind was as necessary here as it was in Vermont, and we knew well how to

practice it. About this time the emigrants began to come in very fast,

and every piece of Government land any where about was taken. So much

land was ploughed, and so much vegetable matter turned under and

decaying that there came a regular epidemic of fever and ague and

bilious fever, and a large majority of the people were sick. At our

house father was the first one attacked, and when the fever was at its

height he was quite out of his head and talked and acted like a crazy

man. We had never seen any one so sick before, and we thought he must

surely die, but when the doctor came he said:--"Don't be alarmed. It is

only 'fever 'n' agur,' and no one was ever known to die of that." Others

of us were sick too, and most of the neighbors, and it made us all feel

rather sorrowful. The doctor's medicines consisted of calomel, jalap and

quinine, all used pretty freely, by some with benefit, and by others to

no visible purpose, for they had to suffer until the cold weather came

and froze the disease out. At one time I was the only one that remained

well, and I had to nurse and cook, besides all the out-door work that

fell to me. My sister married a man near by with a good farm and moved

there with him, a mile or two away. When she went away I lost my real

bosom companion and felt very lonesome, but I went to see her once in a

while, and that was pretty often, I think. There was not much going on

as a general thing. Some little neighborhood society and news was about

all. There was, however, one incident which occurred in 1837, I never

shall forget, and which I will relate in the next chapter.

Death Valley in '49 Important chapter of California pioneer history. The autobiography of a pioneer, detailing his life from a humble home in the Green Mountains to the gold mines of California; and particularly reciting the sufferings of the band of men, women and children who gave "Death Valley" its name · 第 3 / 18 章