Chapter XXV: Elizabeth Kenton, 428 (17)

At the time of Hull’s surrender, the women expressed much indignation. A Mrs. Woodward, since well known in Detroit, mentions a hairbreadth escape. One morning during the war, she had risen, dressed herself as usual, and was sitting by an open window which looked upon the Canada side; suddenly a cannon-ball whizzed past her face and buried itself in the side of the house. She avers that it actually straightened the curls of her hair.

The preceding notices may serve to show something of the privations and perils encountered by female pioneers in Michigan, and the heroism, patience, and energy with which they were met, as well as afford a glimpse into the peculiar character which, marking the early settlers, has in some degree been transmitted to their children.

XXIV.

Even as late as 1835, the emigrants who poured into Michigan, often building their homes in the dense forest or on wild prairie land, are entitled to be called pioneers. An idea of the scenery of portions of the peninsula at that period, and the mode of living among the early settlers, may be given best in the language of one who has had opportunity of observing them. For this purpose, I am permitted to make a few extracts from a manuscript journal kept by a highly gifted and accomplished lady, now residing in the western part of New York, who travelled in that year on horseback through the lower peninsula:

“Bronson (now Kalamazoo), May 28th, 1835. Owing to the uniform progress of journeying day after day from Jacksonburgh to Marshall, a distance of thirty-six, and from Marshall hence, of thirty-seven miles, ‘the little lines of yesterday’ have well-nigh faded without being noticed. The memory of the beautiful, and of such beauty--a forest in its wildness--is so much more powerful than distinct, and having the same characteristics, presents so much uniformity that but little record can be made. On our route we passed over some twenty miles through the wild woods, without seeing a human being. The foliage was just bursting from its numberless sheaths into rich drapery, our pathway was literally strewn with flowers, the horses pressing them at every step, while the birds in their leafy homes, deluged the otherwise unbroken stillness with wild and delicious melody. The silence of the deep forest, during the brief intervals of these untaught lays, seems strangely oppressive; yet ere you can analyze its unwonted power, earth’s lyre, with its myriad tones, is struck again, and you are roused to the liveliest sympathy. I had somewhat the feeling of Milton’s Eve, differently applied. She asked, ‘Wherefore all night long _shine_ these?’ My heart-query was, ‘Wherefore all this wealth of varied note and strain?’ But the same heart answered, ‘These feathered songsters know of home, and love, and sweet companionship, and joyously give thanks for the gift of being, telling to each other, and to Him who made them, of the blessing of life.’

“This day we first saw the Kalamazoo River--a narrow, dark stream. We stopped at a small log cabin, which on its shingle sign advertised ‘Entertainment for man and beast;’ doubtless after the fashion of the settlements the proprietors had left, and we were grateful for any shelter from the noonday sun. I noticed, while sitting in an inner room, to which, as a lady traveller, I was ceremoniously conducted, that the landlord eyed my husband with singular, yet irresolute attention. I did not fancy, however, that he had ever seen him before. He was an odd-looking personage; rather slight in his general proportions, and short in stature; he had large, prominent features, overshadowed by a shock of coarse yellow hair, faded and worn, that gave him a wild and savage aspect, particularly as this hair and his complexion seemed scarcely to vary a shade in tint. After repeated advances, accompanied with stolen and hurried glances at my husband, he rushed out from his so-called bar, and broke out into a sort of earnest thanksgiving, blessing him for having ejected him from one of the small pieces of land contracted to settlers in western New York. He went on to say that he did not at first recognize him, but he did now, and could tell him that sending him from that farm was one of the best things that ever happened to him; that after he was sent away because he could not pay a cent on his land, he came to this place, and would not give ten acres of it for fifty like that he left in the State of New York. Setting aside the intrinsic value so earnestly put forth, this new and much-prized possession was truly a beautiful spot. The dark current of the river was rushing with arrowy swiftness past the trail on which he had piled his log dwelling. A fine piece of rising ground formed the back-ground, which was imperfectly subdued by cultivation, while a little to the west a scene lay revealed that might do for a glimpse of fairy-land. A small lake, with its sparkling waters, reposed like a jewel in its dark green setting. The forest, on the one side, was enlivened with the luxuriance of the dog-wood, now in full blossom as far as the eye could reach. The large white flowers dispensed in such profusion, gave more the aspect of a boundless garden of lilies, than the unsuspected treasures of an uncultivated wilderness. There were clear openings on the other side, the meadow-like ground being just sprinkled with trees, as if arrayed for picturesque landscape beauty, affording wider vistas from the foliage only making itself seen in delicate tracery, not being yet quite unfolded.

‘Many an elf and many a fay
Here might hold their pastime gay.’

“Our landlady for the hour seemed to share fully her husband’s feelings of self-gratulation, though she told me it was pretty hard times when they had to live in and under their ox-wagon during the early spring days, while the logs were felled and put up for their home. This log house would be quite an object of interest to persons unaccustomed to the pristine dwellings of the western territories. It seemed to consist of three distinct buildings, probably put up at different periods, to meet the increasing demands of ambition as prosperity more abounded. What was evidently the first pile of logs, was used as a bar-room of the roughest construction. This also served as a counter for the ready-change business of this much frequented inn. The boards, or rather planks of the floor, were hewn, and laid down so unequally as to be perilous to an unwary or even rapid step. Directly in the rear was the kitchen, in which the culinary implements and table necessaries were arranged, evidently with an attempt at order without the recognized law thereunto of anything in heaven or earth. The cooking apparatus was so simple, and the vessels for various uses so few in number, as to excite my wonder and admiration at woman’s homely tact and skill; and wayworn traveller though I was, the preparation for our noonday meal was almost as engrossing as the partaking thereof after it was prepared. A third division of the house served as a _parlor_ for our hostess, and as an occasional bedroom for ‘special people’--a phrase which I found quite current as a designation for the more fastidious class of travellers, who now began to pass through this hitherto almost unknown territory. Above the main part of these buildings extended a sort of garret, lighted by a window of four small panes in one end, and the opening of the ladder-way--the only mode of entrance. This was the dormitory of India-rubber like capacity for the multitudes who in this season of land-speculation, did here nightly congregate.

“On the fifth of June, we pursued our journey toward the south-eastern part of the territory, intending to take a look at Lake Michigan from the mouth of the St. Joseph’s River. Our way lay through forests and openings similar to those through which we had passed for days, but afterwards we struck into the more heavily timbered land, which the growth of the advancing season had clad with cumbrous garments of foliage, closing up the vistas of beauty and light; in places denying the summer sun its right to rest upon the flowers and shrubs it had but lately warmed into being. At nearly noon, we came upon the edge of a large prairie, the largest in the Territory, which although much smaller than those spread farther westward, had still all the distinctive features of those vast and undulating plains. The landscape was expanded and beautiful, and yet one can scarcely make intelligible the penetrating sentiment of its beauty. Perhaps the first influence consisted in the sense of relief from the pent up feeling we had experienced in the close pressure as it were, of the deep, dark forest from which we emerged. In the centre of this plain was a collection of ‘innumerous boughs’ like an island in the midst of circling waters. The prairie was begirt by a belt of timbered land, though the outline was so dim in the distance, as rather to look like a lazy cloud resting for support upon the verge of the horizon. We gave our horses the reins, and they cantered merrily across the rich plain, the whole covered in this early summer with short and close grass. Innumerable flowers raised their variegated heads between the tiny meshes of network woven by the wild pea, while the butterflies, with their bright tints and quick fluttering wings, were perpetually upspringing, startled by our approach. After crossing the prairie we again struck into the forest, having previously stopped at the island inn for some refreshment.

“Towards evening, as was our wont, we felt that we must look along our way for some lodging for the night. Our custom had been, except in the villages, not to seek accommodation at the inns scattered at irregular distances along the road. The new settlers continually moving in toward their purchases, and the number of speculators in pursuit of locations on which to raise, not dwellings, but future fortunes, so completely filled them up, as to render it an impossibility to find for a lady even momentary seclusion, much less repose. Our practice was as soon as we found the shadows beginning to lengthen, to stop at the first decent log house and ask for a drink of water. Getting the water afforded time and opportunity for reconnoitering; and if the tin cup or basin in which the draught was offered looked clean, and the premises in any way inviting by comparison, we made the request that we could be accommodated for the night. We had not on this evening seen any houses, the tract of country through which we had been passing for some hours being without settlement.

“On coming up to some woodmen whose gleaming axes told that their whereabouts was near at hand, we stopped, and after exchanging mutual glances of inquiry, my husband asked if they could tell us where we could find a tavern? They looked at each other and then askance at us. The question was repeated again; they looked bewildered, when my husband thoughtfully changed his phrase and said--‘Where can I stay to-night, and have good care taken of my horses?’ The answer then came quickly--‘Oh, at Nicholas B--’s, the Hooshier’s, he has a first-rate place, and takes in every night a great many folks.’ We made two or three further inquiries and passed on, with our expectations considerably raised in prospect of the promised accommodation.

“Just after sunset, we reached the place designated by the woodman, and peering through the gloaming, I espied a good-sized frame barn, with an enclosure, and all the appearance of a well stocked barn and rick. I fairly screamed with delight, so important to our further journey was the welfare of our horses, and so certain did the indication seem of a comfortable resting place for my own wearied limbs. We soon came out of the forest, upon the edge of a small prairie; there stood the barn in very truth, but I looked around in vain for the house which I had pictured in such glowing colors to myself, as presenting some comparison in size and comfort to the barn. A sudden chill of loneliness came over us. There lay the prairie, about three hundred acres in extent, shrubless and bare, except the patches of recent cultivation, which, however, in the dim light, gave but little indication of richness or growth. The trees shut us in completely, and after traversing the deep forest as we had been for hours, we could not even let imagination picture a livelier or brighter scene beyond. Night came rapidly on, while we stood baffled, without a present sign of human existence. Our horses had for a mile or two been lagging, perhaps in memory of the morning scamper and noon-day refreshment; and now the whole group seemed peculiarly sensible of the influence of solitude, which in us soon resolved itself into utter dreariness. A fresh glance of scrutiny, however, enabled us to descry a very small hut jutting into the woods, as uninviting a log house as we had seen in all our wanderings. We both looked at it for some moments without speaking, so completely paralyzed were all our high raised expectations. I then exclaimed, ‘We cannot stay in that hovel.’ But fastidiousness was soon displaced by eagerness with me, when my husband calmly said--‘We must find shelter there or in the barn, for no further can we go to-night.’ We urged our horses to the door; a well stood directly in front of it, a rare and great treasure in a new settlement, and after grateful notice of this, my husband entered the dwelling. He asked the woman civilly, ‘if she could accommodate us for the night.’ Her answer came quick in utterance and shrill in tone. ‘I suppose I shall have to, any way.’ Such was our welcome. But necessity here giving no scope to pride, or even wonted self-respect, obliged me to dismount and receive the favor so grudgingly bestowed. The woman was perhaps about thirty years of age, plain in feature, and old-fashioned beyond my memory in attire. Her dress was a thick striped material, woven to defy time and its ravages. It was unlike any fabric to which I had been accustomed. It fitted the figure almost closely, low in the neck, with sleeves just coming below the elbow. The dress was extremely short-waisted, without a particle of fulness in the skirt, save the ordinary plaiting just behind essential to convenience. She had on no shoes or stockings, and a faded bandana handkerchief was tied in a loose knot around her neck. Her hair was bound straight about her head, and fastened with some sort of a metal comb, just large enough to perform its office.

“On my entrance a wooden chair was handed me, after being hurriedly dusted; it was low and rickety, but it instantly bestowed the promise of rest, which I so much craved after sitting so many hours in the saddle. My husband, without entering the hut, went on the woman’s vague direction to find the landlord, that our horses, whose prospects of accommodation were so far beyond ours, might speedily receive attention. As soon as he was gone, I essayed an acquaintance with my hostess, and soon believed that her want of courtesy at our reception proceeded more from a fear of not being able to make us comfortable, than from vexation at the present trouble. Two children, the eldest of them not more than two years of age, divided her care with the present bustle of preparing a meal and entertaining me by rapid talking. Her face became almost pleasant with the interest it soon showed in transforming me into a newspaper, from which she could extract without much trouble the information desired by woman, let her nook of the world be ever so obscure, or her connection with the things without ever so slight. I had in my daily progress become quite used to this sort of questioning, and in some instances had to make my tarrying a lasting memorial of usefulness, by drawing patterns of certain garments, collars, caps, etc., with a coal on the floor or table, where paper could not be had, so that when cloth could be procured the latest mode might be used in its fashioning. While thus engaged in conversation, growing in self importance every moment, and quite forgetting that I was an unwished-for guest, I took a survey of the house. It was, of course, built of logs, fourteen feet by sixteen; its sides five feet six inches in height, and the roof covered with strips of bark. A few scattering boards made the floor. It had not the ordinary stick and round chimney common to log houses, but a sort of box was made of split logs at one end of the room; this was filled in with dirt and ashes, and the fire built in the centre of it. An opening in the ill-made roof permitted the smoke to find egress, though occasional puffs during the process of getting supper, advised us of its loitering presence. After my survey of the room itself, I began to take notice of the furniture, and more especially of its sleeping facilities. Two bedsteads, each sustained by _one_ post---quite an anomaly in my previous experience of cabinet furniture; a large chest, which had evidently borne journeying when the essay at house-keeping was made away from the paternal home; a small box of home manufacture, and some other absolute essentials to the wants of even the poorest dwelling, constituted its wealth. I must add a note of description of the bedsteads. Two sides were formed by the projection of the logs of which the hut was made into the room; the _one_ post supported the other two pieces, which were on the other ends inserted into the sides of the house. Feather-beds were heaped high upon them, and these were covered with blue and white woollen coverlids, doubtless part of the portion brought by the young wife to her husband. Small pillows, with clean-looking cotton pillow-cases, completed their decoration.

“I had noticed that my hostess, during her bustle and constant chat with me, had gone frequently to the door, and looked anxiously into the increasing darkness, I of course supposed from no other motive than a desire to find out whether my husband had found hers, and secured attention for our horses. But not so interested was she in her stranger guests. At another visit to the low door, her anxiety could not be restrained, and she exclaimed, ‘I wonder where my children can be! They ought to have been here more than an hour ago; they are always out of the way when I want them.’ I looked aghast. More children! How many--how old! What could be done with them! I had been puzzling myself to know how _six_ of us could be accommodated in the two beds, and in this tiny room; and now an indefinite number to be expected, how could we be made even tolerably comfortable? Speculation--quiet though it was--was soon to be ended by more precise apprehension, when _four_ children, three boys and a girl, came rushing from the woods into the house, animated by all the buoyancy of hungry little mortals just liberated from a day’s confinement and control. It being quite dark without, the light, small as it was within the dwelling, formed a strong contrast, and the little urchins were so suddenly arrested upon perceiving a stranger, that they stood like so many statues, incapable of thought or movement. The remonstrance of the mother quickly restored them, and then began importunate demands for something to eat. Thus there were six children, the father and mother, with ourselves, to be stowed away for the night. It was in vain for me to speculate upon the probable disposition of these numbers, so trusting as I had often done before to the elastic capabilities of these log houses, I determined to bide my time.

“Our host came in with my husband, both bending low in passing through the door. My husband gave a wistful glance at me, and seemed reassured when a _widened_ rather than a _lengthened_ face was turned upon him. Truth to tell, I was almost convulsed with laughter at some of the previous proceedings of my hostess. The ill-jointed planks which served for our floor, were quickly brushed hither and thither with an Indian broom (made of wood finely splintered); the flying dust seeming to have no particular destination, save to seek new places of deposit. The children were repeatedly hushed and pushed into sundry nooks and corners, while the cooking of the supper went on. The little urchins peered at the stranger, and anon played tricks with each other, when a sudden burst, caused by outbreaking mischief, would occasion a new effort at quieting. In process of time our supper was served, and ere long we gathered to the meal. The table was an oaken plank, supported by three stout sticks put into bored holes, for legs. A table-cloth being altogether a superfluous luxury, we dispensed with it; some bread, baked in an open kettle, pork fried in the same utensil, and tea with maple sugar, formed the variety presented to us. Neither milk nor butter were afforded, and yet we were at a regular house of entertainment, kept by a large landed proprietor. Strange to say, the meal was quite palatable, eaten with a healthful appetite after a day’s ride on horseback of some thirty-five miles. Soon after tea, the children being fed by pieces put into their hands during the time we were supping, I ventured to hint, that as I was very tired I should like to go to bed. The woman went to the chest which I had before noticed, took out two clean sheets, spread them upon one of the feather beds, and again put on the woollen coverlet, although it was a June night, a fire burning briskly, and ten persons were to inhabit the small apartment. Immediately after the bed was prepared, the hostess said in an authoritative tone to her husband, ‘Nicholas, the lady wishes to go to bed; turn your face to the wall.’ Nicholas, as if accustomed to this nightly drill, wheeled swiftly about, and stood as still as if suddenly become one of the scanty articles of furniture.

“This said Nicholas looked somewhat like a barbarian, his bushy head and unshaven beard presenting quite a wild appearance. He however seemed intelligent enough for his locality and business, and took most excellent care of our horses. My toilet for the night was very speedily made, and I threw myself on the bed, having first removed the odious coverlet. Still no new developements were made in reference to the accommodation of the youthful group; ere long, however, sundry signs of sleepiness appeared, betokened by fretfulness and some quarrelling, and then the mother proceeded to lift out two trundle beds made of pieces of board nailed together. The absence of rollers made the operation rather laborious, but the husband and father vouchsafed not his aid. It was finally done by the woman alone, and into these five of the little ones were speedily placed. Very soon after, the dim, flickering light was put out, and we were left utterly abandoned, as I feared, to suffocation. I remonstrated decidedly against the shutting of the door, but was told there was fear of the wolves; and indeed before morning our ears were saluted with the shrill, though somewhat smothered howl of these prowlers of the forest. I bore the heat and bad air for several hours, and then in desperation for want of a pure breath, I commenced picking the chinking out from between the logs at the side of the bed, and in this way secured for myself a breathing place, amid the enjoyment of which I fell asleep, and awaked not until the broad sunbeams were laughing in my face.

* * * * *

“During the last week we have made an excursion into the upper part of the lower peninsula of Michigan. Early in the morning of Monday, we left the village and crossed the Ke-Kalamazoo in a miserably constructed scow, and soon after receiving a wrong direction, lost our way. Pursuing, however, a trail for some distance, not knowing whither it would lead us, we came to an Indian trader’s house, pleasantly located upon the banks of the river. We met before we reached this place, some Indians curiously and fantastically dressed with feathers, ribbons, &c. They were mounted on ponies, and seemed bound on some official expedition. They all appeared happy and good-natured. The trader gave us very vague directions for our onward way, but perhaps as definite as a route through an uninhabited forest could be made. The direction was after this fashion:--Take the right hand trail, then the left, and afterwards strike across the woods to the right of the sun, with some intimation that at certain distances lakes would be seen, and openings which would give us fresh energy and perseverance. Making practical these suggestions as far as we might, aided by a pocket compass and the extra bestowment of shrewdness with which my husband is endowed, we reached a prairie where there was a small settlement, and stopped for a few moments to avail ourselves of the intelligence, if so be we could find any, of a man loitering by the side of the trail, in hopes of further direction, and then passed into the dense wilderness. Our destination was an Indian village at a distance of twenty-six miles. The interval had no human habitation, and we were carefully charged to follow without deviation the particular trail to the village. Here and there were traces of a recent Indian encampment, and in one or two places we saw the smoke ascending from their unextinguished fires. The country had the same beauty with which we had become so familiar. The few clouds were motionless, the water in the many lakes we passed sparkled, but scarcely showed the tiniest ripple. As before nature’s deep repose was broken, when the many birds swelled out their rich choruses, and every little trill met our ears with peculiar distinctness. We passed over a number of small but beautiful prairies, like garden spots covered in wild luxuriance with flowers of every form and hue emitting delicate and delicious perfume. This last seemed rather peculiar to this part of the country, for in spite of what philosophers tell us, wild flowers have ordinarily no fragrance to common perception. In some districts we rode through dark and tangled forest, the straggling, yet by its heavy masses closely plaited foliage, bounding our vision to a few feet on either side, and then almost before we felt the confinement we passed out into an opening, where the bright sunbeams darting quick lines of light left the shadowed portion darker from the contrast. Again we would ride among the trees on the smooth turf, not a shrub or a brush marring the velvet surface, while the lofty trees overarching in their rich foliage, canopied our pathway.

“The hours of the day seemed long in passing, from the necessity of carefully watching the trail, and not having any incident linked to humanity to enliven us. About half an hour before the summer sun was to sink to his rest, we came upon the edge of a wet prairie or marsh about half a mile in extent. I shrank from crossing it, as the uncertain tread of my horse’s feet upon the yielding turf made my seat unsteady, and altogether annoyed and repelled me. But there was no alternative; the trail wound across it in its zigzag line, and we dared not at that hour run the risk of delay, lest we should lose in the deepening twilight its uncertain guidance. We pressed on, feeling at every step that our horses at the next might sink their hoofs too deeply for extrication. The peculiarity of this marsh was in the fact that there was not the slightest appearance of mud; all was a bright green sward, or would have been in the glowing sunshine, but this was resting on a watery bed, into which it sank at every pressure. We however at last safely crossed the marsh after some toil, when lo, a new anxiety awaited me. A dark stream intervened between us and the solid ground, and as the spot where we stood was evidently the ford, cross it we must. The pool, or creek, or whatever might be its appropriate designation, was black as Erebus, with sloping banks, and though narrow, looked so deep in the uncertainty, that I quite feared it would engulph us. My husband bade me tarry until he had crossed it, and I felt quite sick with fear for him when I saw him plunge in. The struggling of his large and powerful horse tended not to reassure me, but when safely across, he said he would return and exchange horses with me. I could not think of permitting him to do so, and this gave me a momentary spasm of courage, trusting to the agility, if not strength of my own animal. The moment of descent into the pool was the last of distinct consciousness, and I was borne through I know not how. When I recovered I found myself sitting upon the ground, the muddy water streaming down my face, where it had been thrown in profusion by my terrified husband. He had expected to see me fall from my horse into the stream. I had not been well for a day or two, and this descent into the turbid waters quite unnerved me.

“To our dismay we perceived our horses had strayed, and already it was almost too dark to see the trail, our sole guide. I immediately anticipated an unguarded night in the wild wood before us; but a kind Providence induced our steeds to regard my husband’s well known whistle, and both returned to our eager grasp. Ere it was quite night we heard the cheering sound of a woodman’s axe, and guided by its repeated stroke, soon perceived a dim light in the distance. On coming up to the man, who seemed to be cutting wood for culinary purposes of the night, we asked for the trader; the man said he was about home, and could accommodate us and our horses for the night. We passed on. I entered the dwelling; it was laid up with logs, some fifty or sixty feet square, and but very recently erected. It had neither door, window, nor division between earth and roof. There was no floor laid, except for a small part of it, which formed a sort of dais, on which were two bedsteads and beds. A large pleasant-looking Frenchwoman met me, and in imperfect English gave me a cheerful welcome. I believe she was really delighted to greet me, so seldom did a woman find her way to her far-off dwelling. I was utterly weary, but the large, bare, unfurnished room gave but little promise of seclusion or quiet. Supper was soon served, venison, cranberries and bread, with a good cup of tea, sweetened with maple sugar, forming our meal. I soon found that eleven men, with the trader and his wife, and her maid of all work, were to occupy the same sleeping apartment with my husband and myself. I was too much jaded, however, to regard the absence of even such proprieties of life with much sensibility, and begged to go to bed, as my only prospective comfort on earth. In this I was gratified, and within an hour after my arrival I had taken possession of one of the two visible beds. My fellow-lodgers I believe rested on buffalo skins strewn at their will about the earth enclosed by the logs.

“Soon after going to bed I discovered what my husband had carefully kept from me--that we were surrounded by some two hundred Indians, who were now sheltered in the hut the trader had abandoned for this new one, and were preparing to hold, this night, one of their peculiar festivals. Soon after they commenced their hideous singing and dancing, accompanied by the beating of sticks upon something that resembled a gong, altogether forming a combination of sound and movement as revolting as any thing I ever saw or heard. In the intervals when they paused for rest, the night hawks, wheeling close to our low hut, by their wild shrill cries effectually set sleep at defiance. Never amid earth’s varied experiences shall I forget that night.

“Feverish and ill, I arose the next morning, with scarcely purpose enough to link thought with plan, but on the suggestion that if we proceeded on our journey to the Grand River country, I must suffer myself to be paddled across the Thornapple river by an Indian, alone with him in his canoe, while our horses should swim under the guidance of my husband, I decided that it was not possible, and soon after got ready to retrace our steps. To avoid the re-crossing of the marsh, and the discomforts of the evening before, the Indian trader, at our suggestion, indeed solicitation, promised to be our guide by a more circuitous route. To be our companion it was necessary to catch one of the many Indian ponies that were feeding in a drove not far from the hut. The process amazed me much. A rope was fastened to the side of the house, some four feet from the ground, and two or three of the Indians held the line firmly at the other end, while others drove the horses up towards the house, and when sufficiently near, quietly enclosed them with the circling cord, which as soon as the horses perceived, they yielded quietly, and the one selected even bowed his head to the halter. Experience had evidently taught them that resistance was vain.

* * * * *

“Late on Saturday afternoon we arrived at the village of ----, where we proposed spending the Sabbath. Externally the inn promised well, as it was large, well ventilated, and apparently comfortably furnished. We soon tested the truth of the ever applicable maxim, that ‘appearances often deceive.’ Our supper was one of the worst prepared and most uncomfortable meals that had been offered in all our journey. The utter want of cleanliness was absolutely disgusting, and no part of the house seemed in its arrangement to recognize the fact that human comfort and health required as indispensable the use of fresh water and soap. I was shown with some parade into my room, which was a large one, furnished barely with the things required, and soon retired after a serious conflict between weariness and the revulsion of feeling occasioned by the appearance of the bed. However, fatigue triumphed; and protecting myself from contact with sheets and pillow-cases as best I might, I threw myself upon the bed. Almost immediately after I was informed in a sort of apologetic way, that my room was the thoroughfare of the sleeping loft above; and as there was no other ingress or egress, I was compelled to acquiesce in the arrangement, as if it were a matter of course. Some twenty men passed thus to their repose; but as they were sad laggards on the beautiful Sabbath, I was able to get up, and take such time as I pleased for my toilet, without fear of being disturbed.

“The evening before I had asked the little handmaid of the inn to bring me in the morning a basin of water and a towel, having provided myself with the latter article in case of need on my journey, but not thinking of using my own in a large inn, and that in one of the chief villages in Michigan. In the morning I again demanded of the girl the indispensable convenience, which she speedily brought in the form of an earthen _pint_ bowl of water, and a coarse towel, not quite half a yard square. I however received it gratefully, and determined to make the best of it until I could find pump, cistern, or spring, when to my amazement and amusement too, in a few moments the girl returned with the request that I would _lend_ my towel to the Judge (the Circuit Court was holding a session there), and she would _return_ it in a few moments.

“After a breakfast which was but a slight improvement upon the evening meal, we asked if there was any religious service held in the place, and were told that there was, at the usual hour, in a certain school-house to which we were directed, and which we reached after a disagreeable walk across a marsh. The school-house resembled in proportions a ten-pin alley, rude and incomplete in construction, and exhibited marks (such as broken windows, etc.) of physical energy ill directed, rather than the practical effects of any mental skill. When we reached the house about a dozen were assembled, which number increased in about twenty-five minutes to as many persons. I became weary and impatient, but the audience contented themselves while awaiting the arrival of their minister who was regularly employed to preach twice on the Sabbath, with conversation one with another. After a while, when the delay even to the villagers seemed unreasonable and unaccountable, and possibly the ‘on dits’ of the past week had been thoroughly gone over, there was a visible stir in the congregation, and as if with one consent they evinced a disposition to inquire into the matter. At last one man arose, observed that there must be something the matter with their minister, and inquired if any one present had heard of his having left town. No one seemed to know anything respecting him, and then a proposition was made to disperse. A hymn was given out by some one who commenced without delay in a powerful and rather pleasant voice, and sang manfully through six verses of a hymn unknown I presume to the rest of the audience, and which was entirely inappropriate to both time and circumstances.

“Before this was quite ended the people began to go out, and at its close there was a general movement. Suddenly this seemed to be arrested, and we all stopped at the whisper, ‘He has come--he is here!’ We again took our seats, and the clergyman walked in and up to the desk with calm unruffled mien, as if the ordinary hour for his duty had but just arrived. After sitting a moment, with due solemnity he arose, and instead of offering prayer, or any religious sentiment, said coolly, ‘My friends, I did not hear the bell when it was rung this morning, and forgot to look at my watch; I was waiting for the bell when one of the young men came up for me. As there are so few left here of the congregation, I think we will wait for service until the afternoon.’ And then, without a prayer, benediction, or reminder of any sort that this was holy time, we were allowed to depart.

“That afternoon my husband and myself preferred to worship in the glorious temple of the adjoining forest, where we found

“‘’Neath cloistered boughs the floral bell that swingeth,
And tolls its perfume on the passing air.
Makes Sabbath in the woods, and ever ringeth
A call to prayer.’”

* * * * *

A few extracts from another journal of a lady residing in Michigan, whose family removed thither in 1837, and as usual occupied a log cabin till their house was ready, will further illustrate our subject.

“The house stood on a plain which had once been covered with beautiful trees, of which now remained only the stumps--for every thing like a tree which could possibly cast its longest shadow within range of the dwelling had been hewn down; and there, as an old woman said to me, ‘the sun could shine in nicely all day long, looking so _improvement_ like;’ and there the tenement stood, not with bare walls, for the native bark had not left the logs. A small door gave entrance to its one room, eighteen or twenty feet square; one little window with four panes of glass made darkness, dust, and cobwebs visible; a huge ‘Dutch chimney’ occupied the opposite side, and as time had been busy with its untempered clay, having broken away one half its hearth and left many of its ribs bare, added greatly to the dust and litter covering the black oaken boards of the floor. These boards had been laid down without planing or nailing to the beams on which they rested, and it behoved one to step daintily in approaching their extremities. I giddily wished to be first to set foot within our new home, and had jumped from the carriage and rushed to the latch-string, exclaiming ‘now on your patron lady call,’ when I found myself landed in the cellar. Fortunately it was not very deep, and on my ascension, mamma’s rueful face warned me to make merry of it all. New rough boards were laid about half way across the beams overhead, and these our ‘landlord’ called the ‘chamber floor.’ The ascent was by a ladder of most primitive construction.” * * *

“We have knelt together in prayer for the first time in our new home, and have gathered around the family board to our first ‘meal in our own wilderness. This family board was two boards resting at either end on barrels, and we sat on our trunks, as we have no chairs; our furniture cannot be brought from Detroit until the mud assuages and the dry land begins to appear. Seventeen of us sat down, and my dear father looked quite patriarchal, dispensing food to such a multitude. Such artificial distinctions as servant and master not eating together, are not to be known among us.” * *

“We have tacked sheets against the edges of the boards constituting the ‘chamber floor,’ which are to be drawn up during the day, and at night let down to form a sleeping room for what our helps call the ‘females.’ We have made a bedstead for papa and mamma, by putting together six large trunks, which during the daytime serve us for seats, and fortunately we brought a feather bed in the baggage-wagon. For the rest we have filled straw ticks with the sweet smelling marsh hay.

“_May 24th._--Last night just as sleep had pressed his heaviest seal upon our eyelids, the fearful cry of ‘fire,’ dispelled his poppy charm. We waked to a startling consciousness of danger, at the red glare and roaring crackling flames. Then dash went the cold water, darkness followed, and then came running little rivulets of the extinguishing element, making deposits around our beds upon the floor. We were half frozen for the rest of the night, and this morning they are building a new chimney. The logs are sawn out, and large cobble stones piled one upon another--the chinks filled in with clay--then from among the trees of the forest are sought out a couple of bent boughs with exactly the right curve--these are the jams, and are fastened--the upper ends from ten to twelve feet apart--in the beams that support the second floor. They are set from five to six feet from the logs of the house side, into which their lower ends are securely fastened. A quantity of green wood is then split up into slats, nailed across these and also laid up above them as children build pens with corn cobs, gradually lessening as they approach the roof, from which they rise some two feet; the whole is finally plastered over with new clay, and the chimney is now ready for use; the blue smoke begins to curl from its top; and there will be no danger of this one’s taking fire for some years; being made of such green materials. It was a good thing that mamma with her New York notions about fires, refused to go to sleep last night without two pails of water in the house, although the men had to go a quarter of a mile to the creek for it. This perseverance in an old habit saved us our present home, as the fire never could have been extinguished if the water had not been on the spot.

“Our carpenter is making us some seats and a table. The latter consists of two wooden horses with a moveable top, made of four boards nicely planed and joined together: the seats are slabs about four feet long, with four sticks driven for legs. They are one and all to go out of doors at nights, to let the beds come in--the latter take day board on the fence. Some wooden pins have been driven into the logs on one side of the house, and boards placed upon them for shelves, and on these must repose the milk-pans, dishes, &c. When we would go into the cellar we take up an entire board and jump down about four feet. But what are a few trifling inconveniences in the midst of a world so robed in beauty, so garlanded with flowers!

“_May 25th._--Papa inquired yesterday at dinner of our landlord if he could find us a washerwoman. His characteristic reply was, that he presumed the widow Lewis would willingly come and help us wash, if she was sure of being ‘treated like a human.’ ‘And how shall that be?’ asked papa. ‘Oh, if the young ladies will call on her. You know the folks round here think you are all so proud.’ Papa looked at me, and I said I would call if it was not too far. ‘Oh they live just over the hill, not more than half a mile. Mrs. Lewis is the daughter of old Mr. Dean, who was here this morning--she has five children--there are two married sons with their wives and two children each, also living with them in the house, and then there is another daughter, Jenny Deans, as they call her, quite an old girl.’ My ideas brightened at the charmed name of ‘Jenny Deans,’ and I began to fancy it would be pleasant to call--and so call we did--but the Deans were all gone for the cows. We went in and had a little chat with old Mrs. Deans, whose pale grey hair neatly folded beneath the plain cap, looked quite beautiful. It was a very comfortable new log house, with its clean and stationary floor--its two doors opening opposite each other--its large sash window, home-made chairs and bedsteads too. ‘Your house is much better than Mr. B--’s,’ observed I, in reply to some inquiry of the old dame, as to how we liked living in a log house. ‘Ah yes,’ said she, ‘but it will do you good to learn how poor people live.’ It seems to give the people here indescribable happiness to know we are worse off than themselves.

“About an hour after our return, the whole missing population of the Dean mansion returned our call. We arranged with them the preliminaries for ‘the great wash,’ which is to come off to-morrow. Mamma could not coax them to take it to themselves although, because of the scarcity of water in our own immediate neighborhood, the clothes are all to be taken to their own washing ground on the banks of a beautiful lake, a little back from their house. The widow Lewis would have one of us to help her, although offered double the amount to do it alone. And so I shall attend upon her ladyship to-morrow, although mamma will not believe that I know anything about washing. Papa came to our aid with the observation, ‘the children must all learn to work, and the sooner they begin the better.’

“_May 27th._--Yesterday was one of those glorious days when earth, sky and sunshine, seem to have met in gala mood to celebrate the carnival of time. At an early hour the requisites for the grand washing were placed in our oxen chariot, and the children, who looked upon the whole as a fine frolic, mounted on top of the load. How beautiful looked the world as we slowly wended our way beneath those stately old oaks which, shading the flowery lawns, deserve the name of oak orchards. The birds were singing and the sun was shining, and not yet were the dewdrops exhaled. Those pert little children of spring, the anemones and violets, were everywhere opening their blue eyes. On one side of a growing wheatfield, a soft green sward sloped gently to the shore of a little gem of a lake, bordered by a stately growth of park-like trees on all sides but one, where a heavy growth of tamarack cast a deep shadow, beautiful from the contrast of cheerful light. In the most picturesque spot on the borders of this lake was built our gipsy fire--and around it were gathered such a group! The beau of the morning was the man who owns our log tenement, and acts in the double capacity of landlord and laborer; beside him sat upon the same log Jenny Deans. Oh, with what a broken pinion came fancy from her dreamland flight--and yet she seems a character in her way--dressed in a gown of many colors, from the oft application of a new piece to the old garment. Her ugliness, however, faded to a thing of naught beside the Lewis family--the whole of whom, six in number, were present with us for the entire day. * * * *

“Mamma is beginning to look almost worn out with her many cares, and constant watching and anxiety about papa, who suffers continually. It seems as if those who sit beside the sick and suffering endure half their agony, feel every pain that racks the anguished nerves, and almost lose their identity in the strong sympathy that hour after hour binds frail woman to the side of the weary couch, through long nights suspending every breath and motion of the tired frame, longing to hush the very beatings of her heart, lest she disturb the light half slumber of the invalid. Ah, these are the hours that take large drafts from life, that dim the flush of youth, that drink the dew of the morning. But they give the soul its beauty and perfection, and therefore should we rejoice that they are woman’s allotted task.” * *

“_May 29th._--Mrs. B---- was telling us to-day that many people lived for weeks last winter on boiled acorns. It is almost impossible to get seed for planting--potatoes after the eyes were cut out, it is said, have sold for ten dollars a bushel.”

“_June 1st._--A barrel of white fish is spoiled to-day. The field mice have got into the milk pans and committed suicide.”