USA > New York > Genesee County > History of the Genesee country (western New York) comprising the counties of Allegany, Cattaraugus, Chautauqua, Chemung, Erie, Genesee, Livingston, Monroe, Niagara, Ontario, Orleans, Schuyler, Steuben, Wayne, Wyoming and Yates, Volume II > Part 47
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to remain for ages. But eventually the desire to experience ad . venture came upon him again, and spreading his wings he flew into the clouds. Beneath him the lakes and rivers stretched like patches and ribbons cut from the sky, and exhilarated by his flight he was congratulating himself upon the delightful experience when suddenly he felt himself caught in the breath of a hurricane and was plunging helplessly to destruction, when the kindly spirit again rescued him and returned him to his rock.
Had it not been for the persuasive eloquence of the fox, who inhabited the burrow upon his back, he would no doubt have re- mained content forever. But the fox in recounting to his family the interesting adventures and exciting experiences, which had befallen him in his nightly rambles through the woods so imbued Gustahote with the desire to travel, that he once more issued from his rock and essayed a journey in the woods. Becoming be- wildered he at length found himself completely lost in the forest and his attempts to secure information as to his whereabouts from other spirits met with no success. The Spirit of the Tree was too busy fashioning its leaves ; the Spirit of the Vine was busy filling its grapes with juice; the birds were too busy caring for their young, to give heed to his inquiries. The Rock Spirit wan- dered about aimlessly and was about to give up in despair when the kindly spirit once more appeared and taking him by the hand, led him back again to his own rock.
When Gustahote had rested, he called the kindly Spirit to him again and thus interrogated him: "Why must I remain in this one place, while every other thing in creation moves; the birds journey to the south; the fish to the sea; the fox roams the woods; even the trees sway with the wind; the tides lift up the ocean, but I must remain in one place?" And the Spirit answered him: "You are the Great Rock. Here you were placed by Hah-gweh- di-yu, the Spirit of Good. Before the Indian bent his bow in the woods; before the panther chased the spirits of the west wind; before the pine trees sprang from the ground, you were here. Like a blazed tree upon the trail you were set here by Hah-gweh- di-yu, with the sunlight upon your face, you guide the birds south- ward in the fall and northward in the spring, and in the night your lofty head that hides the stars directs the lost hunter to his lodge. The river flows over your feet towards the sea yet none of
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its waters will ever pass this way again. Since you were placed here, a thousand lofty pines have grown upon your back, fallen to the earth and decayed, a thousand generations of fish have played in the water at your feet, a thousand generations of birds have built their nests in the crevices upon your breast and the fox, who has his burrow on your back will likewise die; a thousand generations of other foxes will dig their burrows upon your back and perish, but you will still be here. You are the unchanging one.
"The thunder arrows of Heno may burn the tallest tree, but they harm you not and Gaoh's breath is wasted upon your head. You alone are enduring and yet you would be a fish, a bird, or fox."
Bowing his head, Gustahote again entered his rock where to this day he remains unchanged. Each morning he sees the be- ginning of the light and each evening he is the first to see the stars appear. Content to watch and guide, like a sentinel he stands immutable, motionless, silent. At his feet the river flows towards the sea; within the crevices upon his breast the birds build their nests; upon his back, he feels the warmth of the little foxes in their burrow, around his head the winds of Gaoh sweep and the thunder arrows of Heno fly, but Gustahote, Spirit of the Great Rock, no longer desires to roam, but proud of his enduring strength and conscious of his duty to guide by day and by night, he remains at his post. At times one may see a faint, stray, wisp of smoke, floating among the trees that he carries upon his back. It is the smoke from his pipe, which he puffs as he listens to others telling strange tales of distant journeys.
THE CURSE OF LAKE KEUKA.
Psychologists claim that in every mind there still lingers a trace of that peculiar mental element, which is called supersti- tion. Superstitious people account for unusual occurrences by assigning supernatural influences and in the case of Lake Keuka, there is a wide field for this uncanny theory. Like many other inland lakes, Keuka is bordered with cottages, which in the sum- mer season are fully occupied. With the presence of many boats- men upon its waters, many fatalities by drowning naturally en-
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sue. These accidents usually occur early in the summer and no instance of the body failing to be found is recorded, "The lake gives up its dead," is a saying of the white people, but the Seneca of the old days said grimly, "The lake cannot eat them."
Years before the white man came and long before the trails of the Senecas led from the western door of the Long House over the Alleghenies, an Indian brave accompanied by his young wife and child was crossing Lake Keuka in a bark canoe. It was dur- ing the month of May, the moon of the Strawberry Festival and from the western sky a storm threatened. The young warrior felt no fear of the coming storm, which, however, descending with unexpected violence capsized the canoe and drowned both the woman and the child. The warrior, after battling desperately with the waves, at length escaped to a friendly bluff, from whence his eyes sought in vain a trace of his wife and child. The storm passed quickly. The lake became calm. The half sunken canoe drifted gently with the wind, where but a few moments before the ugly waters had overwhelmed those that were dear to him, the gentle ripples played in the sun.
Bitter with anguish and overcome by an intense rage against the fate that had dealt so cruelly with him, he spoke the curse, that through the long years has seemed to rest remorselessly on the beautiful lake.
"Keuka! This moon is the moon of the strawberry and today my people thank the Great Spirit at our feast. Today you seem to smile, your waves laughed with my child, and my wife dipped her fingers in your water, you seemed to join with us in thanking the Great Spirit that summer had come and that the ice on your back had melted. But you lied. You are a snake. You have eaten my family. I now place upon you a curse, that will rest on your back heavier than the ice that covers you in the winter. It shall rest upon you as long as the waters run down the hillsides into your bowl.
"I curse you to be always hungry, when the fifth moon is in the sky. You will catch and drown men, women and children for you will be hungry for them, but I curse you to be unable to eat them, they will come to the top, and the wind will blow them to shore.
"The people will hate you just as I hate you now and when
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Heno rides the thunder clouds above you, he will shoot you with his arrows, and Gaoh will blow the breath of his winds upon you till you are tired and covered with foam.
"I speak this curse upon you, because you have taken my wife and child and eaten them. I have never done you any harm. You are a snake. I curse you always to be hungry when the fifth moon is in the sky and the strawberries are ripe in the woods!"
In every family there are certain stories handed down from generation to generation. These tales usually lose nothing in the repeating, but like the proverbial snow-ball, increase in propor- tion to the distance covered. As a written statement continues fixed, it is possibly best that certain of the folk tales which have been handed down to the writer be here given.
My mother's aunt, who was said to be an attractive and lively young frontier woman, married one Samuel Lilly and settled on Post Creek, a few miles from what was then Knoxville, New York. Their household possessions were meager, but when the frugal bridegroom had constructed a small well-built log cabin in the center of his clearing, the happy couple considered themselves "well fixed," and so they were, for I believe that the original home- stead is still in the possession of their descendants.
One clear winter's day some urgent duty called Samuel away over night, leaving his young wife at home alone, but being left alone was no hardship to the frontier women of those days and the young housewife busied herself at her usual duties. Towards evening she went out to take from the line a few clothes which she had been drying during the day. The evening was still, and from the snow covered hills, along the valley, the cry of a single lone wolf came to her ears distinctly. In a spirit of mischief she imitated his discordant howl and to her amusement he replied and she again mimicked him. Holding a long distance conversation with so fierce a denizen of the forest was amusing enough but when another wolf interrupted the dialogue from the hill back of the cabin and others from up and down the valley joined in to swell the chorus, she concluded that the play had gone far enough, and scampered into the house. But the wolves, who were nearly starved by the heavy blanket of snow which covered their usual small prey, gradually gathered into a pack and when evening came on, surrounded the log house and standing upon the banks
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of snow under its eaves, endeavored to thrust their muzzles through the windows. Needless to say the young woman was frightened, and as the darkness increased, the noise of the pack outside became still more alarming. Unable to force their way through the windows, they attacked the door, hurling their bodies against it and gnawing its lower corner. The frightened girl, who afterwards admitted that she was "frightened nearly out of her wits," kept a roaring fire going and numerous kettles of hot water hanging on the pot-hook over the flames.
When the aperture at the lower corner of the door grew large enough, so that the nose of a wolf came into sight, she splashed hot water on the luckless animal, who immediately resigned his position of leader in favor of another. A few scalded noses con- vinced the ferocious animals that the door was too well guarded to gnaw down, so they again turned their attention to the window, breaking out the panes of glass, but a kettle full of boiling water effectually discouraged them from repeating the attempt, but all night long they hung around the cabin, at times as silent as spectres, but at other times raising a terrific din, in hopes of frightening the lonely occupant to attempt flight.
A very nervous young woman greeted the returning husband on the following day, but the wolves had all fled and only the path they had trampled around the cabin, the broken window panes and the gnawed corner of the door gave evidence of their unsuccessful night assault. The footprints left by the fleeing marauders indi- cated that their number was seventeen and seventeen gray timber wolves are not to be taken lightly, when one is alone and unarmed except for hot water.
Then there is the story of the Hornby man, who was down at Big Flats helping a farmer butcher. Saturday night the farmer urged him to stay and have supper and help him cut up the hogs, promising him a cut of the fresh meat in addition to his regular pay; so that in the night the Hornby man found himself traveling on foot through the woods with a piece of fresh meat on his back and a panther trailing him. The man was unarmed ex- cept for a butcher knife. The piece of meat was small and al- though its odor attracted the panther the man was convinced that
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throwing it to the beast would only whet the animal's appetite. So stealthily did the panther approach that the ear could not catch the sound of its footfalls and its hoarse cry sounding close at hand out of the blackness of the night came without warning, first from one side of the trail and then the other .. To the Hornby man's excited senses the animal seemed but a few feet away, but an instant afterwards its cry would sound from the trail far ahead of him. A dozen times he seemed to feel that the beast was about to spring upon him. Each time its cry rose hideously near at hand, he could feel his scalp tingle, as his hair stood erect, but he trudged on, not running, but walking rapidly, keeping to the middle of the trail and clutching the handle of his butcher knife desperately.
Great was his relief when he saw torches approaching. A band of excited men, who had heard the panther screaming and mistook its cries for those of a woman whom they thought lost in the forest, were quite unconvinced when the Hornby man told them of his own experience, but as the cries subsided upon their arrival, they accompanied him back to the Village of Knoxville, where he remained over night, having had his desire for roaming in the gloaming completely satiated for the nonce.
The writer also has the distinction of having had his grand- mother chased by a panther. Where Post Creek Valley is entered by Kerrick Creek, my grandfather built a cabin. There was no accident connected with his selection of this particular spot, for once upon a hunting trip he had stood on a pinnacle overlooking the scene and then and there determined that the juncture of the two valleys would be an ideal spot in which to dwell.
Years afterwards his dream came true and he cleared the land and established a homestead only to discover that the soil beneath was full of loose stones. Unwilling to admit a failure in his own judgment, he stuck to the place, however, picked up the stones and piled them into enormous stone piles, stone walls and barri- cades and eventually the farm became tillable. I am told that the stone piles furnished ballast for a good part of a railroad system, so indirectly I might claim that my grandfather laid the founda- tion for a railroad.
A considerable portion of the farm rested or more strictly
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speaking reclined against one of the steepest side-hills that any man ever attempted to cultivate. But my grandfather cleared these side-hills of the giant pines which covered them and before the rain had washed all the fertility from the soil, he succeeded in raising a few crops to justify his labor. The farm descended to my uncle, who I am sure will be rewarded in the next world for his fortitude in continuing to live his eighty-odd years on the old homestead. My uncle was industrious and frugal and raised a large family of very worthy girls and boys, who without excep- tion proved a credit to their family and the neighborhood, which, however, has nothing to do with my grandmother being chased by a panther.
One time my uncle sent a hired man upon the side-hill to plow. Beginning at the bottom of the field the young man plowed back and forth, each time ascending the hill the width of the furrow. Towards noon he glanced down and suddenly realizing the alti- tude he had attained, began to grow dizzy. After plowing a few more furrows he became overwhelmed with the insane fear that he and the team would topple off the hill, so he went back to the barn, found my uncle and resigned his position as plow-boy. The incident caused no small amount of merriment in the neighbor- hood, but the young man's fears were later partially vindicated by an accident which occurred to another man in plowing the same field. It seems that the horse on the upper side of the furrow jumped over the horse in the furrow and the two animals tangled themselves into a ball and rolled down the hill, much to the per- plexity of the driver around whom the lines were wound, and who necessarily accompanied them. As no serious injury was done to any of the performers the accident simply added to the good humor of the community, but this has nothing to do with my grandmother's adventure with the panther.
Although my uncle was a serious minded man, who expended most of his energy in picking stones and cultivating his farm, he determined to take a holiday for himself and planned the enter- prise with great ingenuity. His soul longed to see New York, but his purse would not permit of the journey in the regular way, so he decided to crib enough lumber from his farm to float down the Chemung Canal and thence to New York by way of the Erie Canal and the Hudson River to pay the expenses of his prodigal expedi-
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tion. If you knew my uncle you would have already guessed that the trip was successful. Not only did he pay his expenses on this great sight-seeing expedition, but he actually made a profit be- sides. The incongruity of a Sunday school superintendent assum- ing the role of a canal boatman can be imagined, but my uncle stood "six-foot-two" in his "stocking-feet" and had a "reach" greater than many a noted prize fighter.
Arriving in New York, he disposed of his lumber and secured lodging at a cheap rooming house. After taking in the sights until a late hour, he repaired to his room and was soon fast asleep. Suddenly he was awakened by a terrific roar. He opened his eyes and saw that the room was in flames. My uncle drew a long breath and shouted "Fire" as loud as he could yell. He leaped out of bed, but the same bound that carried him out of bed carried him back in again, for he saw what it was. An elevated train had rushed by his window, producing the roar and the light from it flashing through his uncurtained window supplied the necessary optical illusion to imitate the flames. But all the city noises taken together were no match for my uncle's yell and the hotel and sur- rounding neighborhood took up his frenzied cry of "Fire." So im- pressively had my uncle used the word, that all were convinced. My uncle lay very still in bed. He was thoroughly awake, but feigned sleep.
The firemen came and searched the building for the fire. They even entered my uncle's room. He pretended to be very much startled and confused on thus being suddenly awakened and attempted to rush into the street carrying his clothing under one arm. The firemen good-naturedly calmed his fears, but got a good laugh out of what they termed was "the frightened hay- seed." But this has little or no connection with my grandmother being chased by a panther.
Speaking of panthers my grandfather had some small repu- tation as a hunter and a marksman. During the training days he came to Bath and no doubt paraded Pulteney Square, but his- tory is disappointingly silent on some very important matters and I have been unable to find anything whatever that warrants my stating that my grandfather was a military man. The family traditions credit him with greater ability as a wrestler than as an expert in the art of "column front!" It is claimed of him that
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one night in an up-stairs room of a Horseheads Hotel that he wrestled naked, "catch as catch can" with a total stranger like- wise naked and that the two upset every cot in the room and destroyed a liberal amount of furniture. All of which occurred in the dark with no referee present and no decision being made. But about the panther.
One spring day my grandfather went visiting over in How- ard. When he arrived at the cabin he found the men gone and the women in a state of great excitement on account of a panther having just carried away a small pig. My grandfather snatched the family rifle and rushed into the brush after the panther. He clambered over the roots of a fallen tree and onto the trunk, only to discover the panther facing him on the same log. The panther was just in the act of springing when my grandfather fired and the panther ran off into the woods. Some say my grandfather missed the panther, but he always laid it to the gun. He said it wasn't sighted right, and after weighing the matter pro and con I am convinced that he was right. This, however, was not the same panther that chased my grandmother.
My grandfather was also quite a fisherman, but in his old age he used to regret the fact that he had never caught an eel. In order to overcome this very serious flaw in his record, he used to fish Ferenbaugh's mill-pond continually.
One bright moonlight night he felt a bite and from the glim- mering waters he pulled a squirming snake-like form. He swung it towards him, and caught it in his bare hands. It was rough and prickly. It was a water snake and a big one, too. But my grand- father never boasted any about catching such a big snake. He had his mind set on catching an eel and the snake did not appeal to him, so he let it go. But even this has little to do with my grandmother's adventure with a panther.
Post Creek Valley soon after the date of my grandfather's arrival became quite a populous district. The Ferenbaughs, Woolevers, Rolosons, Lilys, Slys, Southards, Woodwards, Fan- chars, Eatons, Feros and numerous other prolific families moved in and began clearing the land. One of the first public buildings erected was the school house, which was located upon my grand- father's farm. Here the hardy children were corraled in charge of a master, whose severity made up for his lack of knowledge,
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but who in the main taught the elementary subjects much better than do the pedagogues of the present time, and whose pupils graduated from his institution of learning fully prepared to cope with all obstacles, whether intellectual or physical. The boys of that day knew how to split rails and hew timbers, they were expert in the use of the scythe, the cradle and the flail, and were no novices in the use of fire-arms. The sports of those days consisted largely of rough and tumble games and feats of strength and skill as applied to every day occupations. The youth who could fell a tree quicker than his companions was regarded with envy very much as is the present day quarter-back, who makes the win- ning touch-down for his team. In common with other country schools the attendance in this district is now much smaller than of old, which is easily accounted for by the present day small families and the dwindling of rural population in general. Not only have the numbers of country school children decreased, but a corresponding diminution in their size is also noticeable. Where- as in former times boys and girls attended school until they reached the age of twenty-one, unless stricken in marriage, nowa- days under the intensive hot-house method of innoculation, a bright pupil would not only in that time absorb the entire cur- riculum of a grade school, high school, a business college, a tech- nical institute, and a university course besides taking in numer- ous side-lines, such as athletics, bridge-whist, jazz music and fox- trotting, but would also have delved deeply into the mysteries of the fourth dimension, politics, radio construction and automobil- ing, besides being married a few times. The early settlers had a lot of hard work to do and they did it well, but the people of modern days certainly demonstrate their ability to cover a vast area of activities with little effort.
The Oldfield school house stood near the place where my grand- mother was chased by a panther. My grandfather's cabin stood at the intersection of three roads and while the habitation was in no sense a tavern, many a traveler was kept for the night, only to continue his journey along one of the three roads in the morn- ing. I am sorry to state that there is no family tradition concern- in the Marquis De Lafayette, or General Washington ever sleep- ing beneath its roof. In this respect it differed radically from every other old log cabin on the main road.
The stage coach from Corning to Jefferson, now Watkins,
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passed by the door and no doubt rattled furiously among the countless cobble-stones, which cluttered the road in front of my grandfather's cabin. It must have been a brave sight to see this swaying stage coach rattling through Post Creek Valley. It is to be hoped that the equippage was always loaded with passengers and that the post boy blew a melodious horn, but in regard to my grandmother's adventure with the panther.
My grandfather on my mother's side lived next door to my other grandfather and if a prize had been offered for the steepest cultivated hill-side, they would have tied for first position. It is evident that my grandfather Woolever was an optimist, for he actually constructed a worm-rail fence up and down the hill. Whenever it rained any unlucky youth who chanced to touch this slippery-railed barrier found himself in a peck of trouble. The wet rails slid lengthwise as the fence collapsed, while the irate owner of the premises invariably appeared upon the scene and in- sisted that the luckless youth relay the fence, an undertaking re- quiring a nice sense of balance and a delicacy of touch impossible to find in any one being. The act usually ended in the youth being vehemently dismissed with orders never to set foot upon the farm again. The oldest boy of the family having attained age and size was duly married and purchased the farm adjoining. This farm was also precipitous. My uncle proceeded to get out the neces- sary timbers and then called a "bee" to raise a new barn. He was a teetotaler and when the men assembled, he read them a short temperance lecture and ended by stating that although he had not provided any intoxicants for the occasion, Nancy had cooked. them a wonderful repast. To a man, they agreed to this some- what novel arrangement and jabbing their pike poles into the beams, endeavored to raise the frame-work, but the timbers re- fused to move. Exerting themselves to the utmost, the men were powerless to stir the great timbers. At length my Uncle John gave a boy two one gallon jugs and a dollar. Although my uncle gave this boy no instructions as to what to do with the two jugs and the dollar, the boy's sense of intuition seemed to direct him miraculously to the door of the Dutchman's tavern from whence he soon returned, and strange to say after partaking of the Dutch- man's medicine the men were suddenly revived; the barn went up with a bang and one old man became so elated and enthused
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