USA > Minnesota > Goodhue County > History of Goodhue County, Minnesota > Part 50
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camped on a little level spot of the prairie. near the banks of the Zumbro. On the opposite bank from our camp was an exten- sive piece of woods, which came down to the border of the river. This ford was somewhere between the two places since settled and named Zumbrota and Mazeppa. We drove the pins to our tent in a drenching rain and thunder storm. Our beds that night not being conducive to sleep, we had an early breakfast. While some were employed in grading the banks of the stream, others crossed and made an attack on such trees in the woods as would interfere with the passage of a team. We spent several days in clearing a way through these woods. Returning to Hay creek on Friday. we put up our tent near the bend. This creek had not been fished dry of trout. and as Mr. Colvill took more to the department of commissary and cook than the handling of axe. shovel and crowbar. he supplied us with a nice mess of speckled trout for dinner, while the rest of the party worked with a will upon the ravines that led down to the. creek. We spent the following night tenting on that spot. My ardent friends, the mosquitoes, were plentiful and hungry. Choosing the least of two evils. we provided a smudge in an iron kettle and tried sleeping in a smoke house. It was not long before a suspicions smell of burnt leather greeted us and aroused us to the fact that we were in danger of a conflagration. One rushed out of the tent with the kettle. and on examination we found a hole burned in one of the buffalo robes the size of the bottom of the kettle. Saturday noon found us within fifteen minutes' reach of a a dinner at Red Wing's first class hotel. But the romance of the trip still lingered with us, till we had finished up the last delicacies of prairie chicken and trout under some shady oaks near the base of the Twin bluffs.
"Some later settlers may wish to know what we found to do during the long winters and winter evenings, cut off as we were from the rest of the world. We had lyceums, lectures and a literary society paper instead of the opera. We had regular church services, singing schools and occasional merrymakings. The young folks enjoyed sleigh rides in primitive style. I will give a short account of one. Early in the spring of 1855, as the snow was fast melting away, one afternoon we thought it would be the last chance of the season for a sleigh ride, so a party was arranged for that evening and the girls invited. A sleighing party then meant a lot of girls and boys piled into a lumber box placed on runners. But in this case, before it was time to start it commeneed to rain, and we spent some time in deciding whether to go on runners or wheels, or whether not to go at all. Finally we decided to go on wheels, and by the time we had got the box off the runners and back on wheels and driven around
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and collected our load it was 9 o'clock and pitch dark. Dr. F. F. Iloyt and his brother Frank were holding a claim and occupying a shanty near where Mr. Danforth now lives, on the road to the. county poor farm. Dr. William Brown and W. S. Grow were living with their families in shanties three-fourths of a mile beyond. The party was destined for Mr. Grow's. We had Rev. Mr. Sorin's team, and his hired man. for driver. Coming to Hay creek bottom. we found the road and bridges submerged with at least a foot of water. We crossed one bridge safely, but when we got to where the other one ought to have been we could not find it, and our driver, refused to go a step further. To go forward. to be sure, was presumptuous ; to attempt to turn around on that narrow pike was pretty certain to spill us all ont into the overflowing stream; so we sat down there coaxing and threatening until at last the driver was indneed to move on. We got safely over, went on calling at the Hoyt shanty. routed the boys up and took them aboard. When we reached the Grow and Brown places both families had retired, but after all onr troubles we could not be cheated out of the expected social enjoyment. So they were all routed out, and seemed to enjoy the fun as well as we, until the wee small hours came on and the light of the moon sent us home."
Near the village of Zumbrota a difficulty in regard to land claims occurred. an incident of which is thus related in the words of C. C. Webster: "Several of the first settlers, members of the townsite company, had not only selected claims for them- selves but, as they stated. for their friends also. These proxy claims were, for a time, respected. Outsiders, however, soon found out about them. One day a load of lumber came in sight from Mazeppa. It was watehed with curiosity. Presently it was unloaded on a claim selected by Dr. Perry for a friend of his. and in a brief time a shanty was erected. This was con- sidered a bold invasion upon the rights of the settlers. Next morning at daylight some twenty of us, armed with axes and elubs. resolved to expel the invaders. Upon reaching the shanty a call for surrender was made and in a few moments the shanty was leveled to the ground. There was no one inside. A shout rang through the valley and the valiant heroes retired. During the day the man whose shanty had been demolished appeared upon the scene. At a distance he looked somewhat diseonsolate and we fancied he would disappear and not return. Not so. however. The next day he returned with some companions. They seemed to carry something which looked very much like shotguns. The shanty was not again disturbed. We thought it best to bottle up our wrath and not take any chances."
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The remainder of this chapter is devoted to writings of the Rev. J. W. Hancock.
"The Red Wing Indians were generally peaceable, but occa- sionally we had a row which set the whole village in commotion. Whisky could be obtained over on the Wisconsin side for money, blankets, or anything valuable which the Indians could spare. Moderate drinking was not their custom. They must have enough to make 'drunk come,' or none at all. Several of them would put their 'mites' together and go over and buy two or three gallons at a time, which, being brought home, was drunk up in a short time. This was followed by all the noise and quarrel- ing imaginable. and usually resulted in somebody being either killed or badly wounded.
"Shortly after a row of this kind had taken place, and while there were a number of very sick children in the village, whom I was visiting at the time, I heard a woman cry out, 'Now they are coming with it.' 'With what?' said I. She immediately pointed to the river and answered. 'Minni-wakan' (spirit-water, or whisky). I saw a canoe approaching from the other shore, in which were five or six young braves, who soon landed. I placed myself where the path led up the bank, ready to meet them. The leader carried a tin pail with a cover, holding, I should think, about two gallons. I asked what he had in the pail, and he replied . Minne-wakan.' Snatching it from him, it was the work of a moment and the contents of the pail were soaking into the ground.
"Loud talk followed on both sides. I tried hard to convinee them that whisky was contraband on the Minnesota side of the river and advised them not to bring over any more. After leav- ing them I understood that one of the braves boasted that he would bring whisky here and drink it, and defying me to spill it.
"But a few days elapsed before he made the trial. The first intimation I had of it was when an Indian called at my house and wished me to come to the door. I looked out and saw the young braves coming single file, singing as they marched along. The first one earried a two-gallon jug, which he was anxious that I should notiee, affirming at the same time that it was whisky. I went for him, got hold of his jug, but could not wrest it from his grasp, for the reason that he had it tied to a strong cord which passed around his neck and over one shoulder, but I managed to pull out the cork and overturn the jug, when the liquor commenced to run out. He let go the jug and clenched me by the hair with both hands. and used me rather roughly until the whisky had all run out, as it took both my hands to keep the jug inverted while he was dragging me about. Well, I had but partially conquered. There were many witnesses and he
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did not like to give up as entirely beaten, so he stretched himself out full length on the ground near the door of the mission house. I entreated him to leave and go to his wigwam. He declared that he would not. After waiting for some time for him to go voluntarily, and fearing that he might stay there all night, 1 took a piece of rope, and slipping it around his ankles, tied his feet together, took the other end over my shoulder and dragged him toward his home. After being drawn five or six rods he begged me to let him get up, promising that he would not trouble me any more. Hle threatened some after he got out of my reach, but never did me any harm. The prohibitory law was triumphant at that time."
The difficulties of going from one point to another in a country where there are neither roads nor bridges, hotels nor farm houses, are among the most formidable that first settlers have to en- counter. I started in September, 1849, alone on horseback, to go from Red Wing village to another Indian village on the Minnesota river. to attend the annual meeting of the Dakota mission. I was to follow the Mississippi river up to the mouth of the Minnesota river, and then the latter stream some eighty miles to my place of destination, which was near the place now called St. Peter. The first day I expected to reach Kaposia, which was an Indian village a little below St. Paul. Dr. T. S. William- son was the missionary stationed there, and from that point. I was to have his company the remainder of the journey. There were no human habitations between Red Wing and Kaposia at that time.
"The morning was warm and sultry on the day I set out. I was directed to follow 'the trail.' After fording Hay creek I was convinced that my horse had not been accustomed to follow an Indian trail. The marshy ground on the sides of the creek was rather soft for his weight. The grass had grown so tall that season as to hide the trail entirely in many places, and I found it the only safe way to lead my horse over the marshy ground. At the crossing of the Cannon river the same difficulty occurred. The tall grass there reached above my shoulders while I sat on my horse. Where I crossed that stream it was so deep for a short distance that the water took in the horse except his head and a part of his neck.
"After reaching the high prairie between the Cannon and Vermilion rivers, and then crossing the latter without trouble, I could see a long stretch of prairie before me, and knowing there were no more rivers to cross that day, I began to feel that I should reach Kaposia in due time. Occasionally I could see plainly a mark where the Indians' ponies had traveled. and tried
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to keep the same direction. But the sun shaded with clouds and a storm came on at about 4 o'clock. The thunder rolled and the lightning flashed. Soon the rain fell in torrents and I could no longer see the trail. The prairie grass covered it. There was a grove apparently at some distance on the left, and I made toward it. The distance was greater than I expected, but I finally reached, not a grove, but a few oak trees scattered widely apart, affording no shelter from the wind and rain. I rode on. Shower followed shower; night came on, and still it rained. Finally I reached a grove where the trees stood near together and were filled in by underbrush. It was now so dark that it was impos- sible to go further with safety. I stood there under the forest through several thunder showers, holding my horse by the bridle, · waiting for morning. The ground was too wet to think of lying down, and I leaned my back against a tree and got some sleep. My horse was still near me, biting the herbage. Reconnoitering the ground, I found a path, and by a streak of light which showed where the sun was going to rise I knew the points of the com- pass. Following the path in a northwesterly direction about a mile, I should judge, I came to the village of Mendota, at that time a trading post of the American Fur Company. There I was shown a full trail that led to Kaposia, some five or six miles below on the Mississippi river. I took that trail and soon after arrived at the Kaposia mission. Both horse and rider were weary, wet and hungry, and thanks to missionary hospitality, our wants were supplied. For the remainder of the trip I had the company of those who knew the way and had experience in the methods of traveling. Many strange incidents occurred to me during that journey, but the trials of that first day were the most severe. It was the occasion of the annual meeting of the Dakota mission. Once a year all the missionaries to that tribe were accustomed to meet for two or three days and consult together at one of the stations. At this meeting at Traverse des Sioux I first made acquaintance with the older missionaries and learned much of their methods of procedure.
"I learned afterward that oxen were more safe and reliable for traveling through the country than a horse. The Red river trade was then carried on between the United States and Canada chiefly by means of oxen. For transportation they used two- wheeled carts, each drawn by an ox.
"In the spring of 1852 I started for Lac qui Parle, the mission station among the Dakotas farthest distant from Red Wing. A young man who was engaged to go there to assist the mission- aries accompanied me. Having some baggage, consisting of a small cloth tent and a few blankets for night rests, some car- penter's tools, provisions for ten days, and the mail for the
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mission families at Lae qui Parle, which had been accumulating at Fort Snelling all winter. we loaded all into an ox cart and traveled in Red river style. We were nine days going from Traverse des Sioux to our destination, and no sign of civilization did we meet on the way. There were plenty of sloughs to cross, streams to ford and rainy days and nights to endure. Sometimes we were mired down in a marsh. But our ox was patient. He could rest a while and then use his strength again. Often did we lift at the wheels to help release them from the mud. The rains and melting snow had raised all the streams to full banks, and swimming was the last resort in order to cross some of them, which in ordinary times could easily have been forded. We came at last to what was them called the Chippeway river. This was skirted with timber and the water was flowing over the timbered bottom. We could not tell where the regular chan- nel was. It seemed to be at least three-fourths of a mile across that valley covered by a swift, rushing stream. We considered ways and means. Finding a tree in such a position as to be obtained, we cut it down and constructed a small raft, with sections of the trunk fastened side by side and branches spread on the top. But this raft would only carry one of us at a time. It was now near night and after crossing this stream it would be five miles to the mission, and our provisions were exhausted, or nearly so. My companion agreed to stay there with the ox and cart until another day, while I should go over on the raft and walk to the station, where we could get help. I took the satchel which contained the mail with me and placed it upon some brush near the middle of the raft, and with a pole in my hands, standing close behind the satchel, I commeneed my perilous voyage. Hlad some hard hits against standing trees for a time, and when I reached the real bed of the river my frail vessel was carried down the stream with a rush. I could only use my pole like an oar, and I went down much faster than , across, till I came to a fallen tree, the top of which was partly out of water. I tried to steer the raft around under the tree top. I caught hold of the satehel and followed the raft by «linging to the upper branches, and before it had become disen- tangled from the tree top I was on board again. I had evidently now crossed the main channel and by elinging to passing trees I made the opposite shore. Walking along up the stream till I found the track, I pursued my way through a storm of sleet, five miles, to the mission, arriving some time after dark. The next day, by means of a boat belonging at the station, my companion in travel was relieved. I remained at Lae qui Parle more than a week, hoping the waters would assnage, which was the case to some extent.
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"On returning we had a yoke of oxen attached to a lumber wagon for our means of conveyance as far as Traverse des Sioux. Mission supplies were sent up to that point in boats, and to convey a load of such supplies to the mission it was necessary for this team to go down at that season, which was in the early part of May. I was entrusted with management of the team and. as I had only a light load, expected to enjoy the trip. The distance. as then traveled, between the two stations was a little over one hundred miles. No human habitation, not even an Indian hut. to be seen all that distance. The streams were forded on this occasion without difficulty. Although the water would sometimes reach the backs of the oxen and leak into the wagon box, there was a solid bed for our- team to walk on. Not so accommodating were many of the marshes or sloughs. When once you broke through the turf you went down, at least as far as legs would reach. There seemed to be no bottom. On coming to the edge of a slough it was necessary to halt and reconnoiter. It was never safe to follow any former track. There the turf would already be broken. If there could be no way found to get around. we ventured in and tried to keep the team upon an untrod way. But just at that season, before the new grass had started, the old turf was very tender and very frequently our team went down, so as to be obliged to wallow,
until the wagon (narrow-rimmed wheels) would sink to the hubs, when the oxen would become discouraged and the whole roncern would cease to move. The next thing to do was to "rope out." A strong rope sixty or seventy feet long was an indispensible article to carry coiled up in one corner of the wagon box. Thanks to the more experienced. we were provided with one. "Unloose the team from the wagon and drive them ahead to a piece of firm ground. fasten. the rope to the end of the tongue and the other end to the ring of the oxyoke. Now you can. perhaps, draw your load out of the mud." This was called "roping out." a process which I had become pretty well accustomed to at the end of this . journey. Once we were so completely fast that I had to unyoke the team and let each ox get out by himself. Then I yoked them. but before I could get them to draw the wagon out I was obliged to unload and carry the loading to a dry place on my shoulders. I took the wagon box off and the team drew it out first. Then I uncoupled the wheels, and by the strength of the oxen drew each pair out separately."
It took time and patience to travel in those days. If I remem- ber rightly, we were eleven days performing that trip, sleeping under our wagon for ten nights in succession. I could never since consider camping-out much of a pleasure. Traveling by canoes and steamboats in those days was a more comfortable mode than
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by land. We could only avail ourselves of the last-named craft when we wished to go to the head of navigation on the Mississippi.
For two years and a half our nearest postoffice was Point Douglas, twenty-five miles by river from Red Wing. After learning how to manage a log canoe, I could go that distance in one with pleasure.
The missionaries on the upper Minnesota, in conjunction with the Indian traders, used a large boat, carrying several tons, for transporting their goods and supplies from Fort Snelling to their several stations during the summer. In September, 1851, I had the pleasure of a trip on the boat-named Winona-on its return from Traverse des Sfoux to the fort.
It had been raining for a week or more, and early in the morn- ing of the day fixed upon for starting the rain was still pattering upon the roof of the mission house. By eight o'clock the storm ceased and the clouds began to disperse. Preparations were immediately made for embarkation. By nine o'clock our party were all snugly packed on board the Winona, a barge of eight tons burden. The party consisted of twenty-four persons; nine- teen were missionaries and their children. Some were returning to their several stations at Shakopee, Oak Grove, Kaposia and Red Wing. after having attended the annual meeting. To com- plete the number were two Frenchmen. employes of the traders, and three Dakotas. For freight. we had three horses, sixteen packs of furs and a considerable quantity of baggage belonging to one of the mission families, who were on their way to visit friends in Ohio. When all were ready, farewells were exchanged with those left behind, and our little vessel moved out upon the bosom of the charming river. It seemed to me that nothing on earth could have exceeded the variety and beauty of the scenery by which we were surrounded as we glided down the "sky-colored water." The dark rain clouds had disappeared, and the golden- edged fleeces, which appeared in their stead, were moving in majesty, adorning the great archway with their richest drapery, while sheltering the traveler from the too constant heat of the sun. In consequence of the great rain the banks of the river were full, and in many places overflowing. No ghastly forms of uprooted trees, no shelves of dropping mud, nor bars of yellow sand were visible. Every object that could be thought disagree- able was covered by the flowing waters. We sailed on, in our winding course, through banks of living green. The willows. which skirted the stream in abundance, bending under the force of the current, seemed to be bowing their heads and kissing the water, like things of intelligence expressing their gratitude for favors received. Our course for that day was bounded for many
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miles by dense forests : occasionally. however, we were greeted by an opening meadow, covered by tall grass. We had a view of nature unalloyed by the hand of art. Night came on at last, and it was not considered safe to continue our journey in the dark. Our barge was directed to the shore and made fast to a stately elm.
After evening prayers, our cheerful company spread their blankets. some on the grassy bank, some on board the boat, and laid themselves down to rest. A little past midnight our rest was disturbed. The moon appeared above the horizon in all its bright- ness. The land sleepers were aroused and summoned on board, the line was hauled in, and the boat began again to move down the bold current. Before sunrise we were in sight of what was then called "Prairieville Station. " the village of the chief ealled Little Six. now Shakopee. On arriving near the mission house our boat was again tied to a tree, and all accompanied Rev. Mr. Pond to his house, where we partook of a warm breakfast, seated at a table once more. After tarrying at that place some two hours. having parted with some of our company, we reembarked and wended our way down the river. The day was fine and the views most enchanting. We had left the big woods, and the country was a rolling prairie. but no human habitation nor culti- vated fields were to be seen, until we came to "Oak Grove Sta- tion," or Black Dog's village. Here we halted. and left Rev. G. II. Pond, the missionary at that station. At abont three o'clock in the afternoon we came to Mendota. the meeting of the waters of the Minnesota and the Mississippi. When Fort Snelling was described in the distance, those missionary children began to dance for joy. Having been born in an Indian village, they had only seen pictures of really civilized habitations before. Who can describe the feelings of those children on that occasion? Our bark was soon moored under the battlements of the fort, and we pursued our way homeward by other methods of conveyance.
While the Dakotas were in possession we had no lack of wild fresh meat. but the advent of white hunters soon diminished the amount of game in all the region. The Indians were skillful in taking their game by stealth: instead of chasing it with hounds. They were careful not to kill more than necessary at one time. I have seen a Dakota go through the prairie grass on all fours, or rather on threes. for he held a shotgun near the ground in one hand. At a few rods distance I shouldl easily have taken him to be a quadruped. He was on the track of a deer. I have the impression that a fresh sirloin steak of elk or bear. killed by an Indian. in those days was much finer than any meat I have ever eaten which came from a butcher.
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