BEGINNING THEIR REAL STRUGGLE WITH THE EARTH
The long and memorable winter of '80-'81 had at last come to an end.
The resulting flood, too, as in the time of Noah, at length subsided,
and now our new comers must begin their first real struggle with the
earth in the new land. Without tools or draught animals, and even any
knowledge of farming conditions on this new soil, and without means to
buy tools, this struggle became for many both hard and prolonged. They
had had during the winter their baptism in self-denial and privation.
They were now to learn further that while the new land might possibly
flow with milk and honey, yet if it was to flow for them, they would
have to do the milking and gather the honey.
As an illustration of how the struggle in subduing the soil began for
these people, may I again refer to my Father as an illustration of
many others. I refer to him merely because I can recall these
circumstances better in his case than in that of others and, also
because the experiences of others were similar and in many cases much
worse.
He had hired a man to break five acres the first summer. This was an
ordinary amount of plow land, largely because the government required
this much to be broken in order to comply with the homestead
regulations. During the winter he had made a small harrow and in the
spring sowed most of this ground to wheat and tried the best he could
to harrow it with the ponies already mentioned. The year was not very
favorable, as I can recall it, and with such equipment the results
can be surmised. I do not recall just what they were, but I am quite
sure we did not eat much wheat flour the following winter. He had one
acre of corn, which he worked with the hoe. He bought, like most of
the others, or, rather went into debt for, a pair of steers that
spring. These he, with the help of Lars Almen, who worked together
with him, as also Halvor Hevle, tried to "break" for work purposes.
These animals proved themselves notoriously stubborn and fractious and
made their drivers earn most of what they got out of them in the way
of work. This, however, may have been due to the inexperience of the
drivers. For, as already said, the ox, next to the cow, was the
beginner's best friend, and without him it is hard to see how the
pioneers could have gotten along at all. To be sure, some of these
animals did not take kindly to the yoke and many were the scrapes they
got their owners into, running away and breaking up both wagons and
tools. Yet when you consider the lot of the ox you cannot be too hard
on him for his occasional bad humor. As a boy I have driven him many a
day, and often lost my patience with him, for which I now humbly
apologize. We worked him on the plow, both stubble and breaking plow,
drag, stoneboat and the heaviest work that was to be done. At noon or
night we unyoked him and let him go to get a little grass or hay for
himself. No oats for him, only the long kind you administer with a
whip; no thanks to him when the long, hot day of pulling a breaking
plow at last is done, but very likely a parting kick. We have not
given the ox his well-earned place among the foundation builders of
our land, and I propose that even at this late date we should repent
and build in South Dakota a monument to the ox, our early, faithful
and indispensable friend.
The first few years after arriving were required by our pioneers for
making temporary shelters for themselves and their few animals; also
in providing some way of obtaining the bare necessities of life while
they could lay the foundations for a larger prosperity and more
comforts. As already indicated, the first resource and dependence for
getting a little money was eggs, butter and hay. These commodities
were sold to get the few groceries and small necessities which they
could not well do without. Some of the men worked out to supplement
their meager income.
By 1885, roughly speaking, these hardy men really began to wrestle
with the soil in earnest and thus make possible something more than a
bare existence. From about '83 to '90 a picturesque and ever recurring
scene, when spring and early summer came, was the breaking rig moving
slowly but majestically over the long furrows. There were from four to
six oxen to each plow and most generally it took two men to hold the
plow and keep the oxen in the straight and narrow way. The country I
am describing was very stony and there was many a hard lift and aching
back before these stones could be pried out of the ground and hauled
away sufficiently to make breaking possible. Even after spending many
weeks at this clearing work there would still be many stones left
which the plow would strike with such violence as to almost fell the
man at the handles. With the plow out of the ground and the load
suddenly lightening the oxen would make the most of this relief by
starting on a trot so that often the plow could not be gotten back
into the sod for a rod or two. Two neighbors would often go in
together in breaking, each furnishing one yoke of oxen.
This sod would be put into corn or flax the first season and the next
into wheat. The returns were generally quite meager compared with what
that ground is producing now. But even a little meant much then.
Drought was the principal drawback. Then, too, these early beginners
did not have the modern machinery either for putting in, harvesting or
threshing grain, and this fact was also a large cause for small
yields. However, they kept on breaking up a little more each year,
and after a few years the ground was subdued enough to begin to raise
corn and consequently hogs. The beef cattle as a source of income had
been good earlier, but the price of cattle went so low during this
period that there was not much inducement. Then, too, as the country
came to be settled and broken there was less possibility of keeping
herds of cattle. I recall that during this depression in the latter
eighties good milch cows sold for $10.00-$15.00 and other cattle in
proportion. Of course, in the panic or notorious depression of 93-4,
even grain and hogs went down with everything else. Corn was sold for
eight cents per bushel and wheat as low as 35-40 cents. But generally
speaking, in the period we are describing, when these path-finders
were laying the foundations for permanent homes and farm equipment,
corn and hogs became their corner stone of prosperity, with milk and
butter a close second.
There arose an industry in the latter '90's which came to be of
considerable economic importance--the creamery. These men at first
located a considerable distance away and the cream had to be
transported in hired wagons. Some of these creameries "failed" and
left the farmers to whistle for their long expected and much needed
cream checks. Later a co-operative creamery was organized and
successfully operated by Sven Vognild on the S. Hinseth place. This
was the first real co-operative enterprise in the vicinity.
Returning to early farm conditions, we find that for several years
many of the new settlers did not have enough grain to have a
threshmachine on the place, but hauled what little they might have to
some nearby machine.
As can be seen, there was not much grain to be sold for some time for
these farmers. Butter and eggs, and, a little later, cattle, were the
chief products which could bring a little ready money. To this should
be added hay, which many hauled to Yankton with oxen, getting
$2.50-$3.00 per ton. Even at this price, and with such slow
transportation, this hay traffic was for many the chief source of any
money, and some spent most of the fall and winter months at this work
when travel was possible.