Waseca County, Minnesota - Chapter 4: Eeminiscences and Incidents, 1887

Chapter 4: Eeminiscences and Incidents

It is the intention to group under this he.ad the personal experiences of the pioneers and others of the county of "Waseca. Many of them are written b}^ the early settlers themselves, and others related and written up from their oral relation. In compiling, the editor has not attemjjted to change the style of the Avriter, it being the design to leave them as they were penned, a record not only of the facts narrated, but preserving the individuality of the writer and the view he took of the matter. These reminiscences are interesting and well worthy a perusal.

By James E. Child

Thirty-three or four years ago the present county of Waseca was a portion of the territory known as Blue Earth County. Not a single white man then had a habitation within its borders. The solitude of nature was broken only occasionally by the hunter and trapper, or by wandering bands of Sioux Indians. Buffalo, elk and deer had for ages roamed its prairies and woodlands. Fish basked undisturbed in its lakes and streams. The muskrat, the otter and the mink gamboled upon the ice in winter, with no one to molest or make them afraid. Ducks, geese and other aquatic fowl covered the waters in summer, and chattered and squawked in all their native glory. The prairie wolf howled upon each little hillock, and coward-like was always ready to pounce upon the weak and defenseless. Pocket gophers went on with their interminable mining operations, all unconscious of the inroads soon to be made upon their dominions by the husbandman.

Grouse and prairie chicken crowed, drummed and strutted in all their pride, and the winds and blizzards and cyclones swept unheeded across its solitary waste. The autumnal prairie fires, in aU their terrible grandeur and beauty, lighted the heavens by night and clouded the sun by day. Age after age had added alluvial richness to the soil, and prepared it, as one of the richest fields in the world, for the abode of the husbandman and for the uses of civilized man. It furnishes food for reflection to the inquiring mind at times, that an overruling Providence should have sent the Pilgrim Fathers to the rock bound and stormy coast of New England and reserved the rich prairie lands of the west for their descendants and followers.

In the month of June, 1854, Asa G. Sutlief, his wife and three children, left Dodge County, Wis., in covered wagons, taking with them quite a drove of cattle and sheep, to seek a home in the land of " Laughing Waters."

They passed over the Mississippi at La Crosse, and taking across the country in a westerly direction, struck the Minnesota River at Traverse or St. Peters, locating on a claim some five or six miles west of there. He had been there only a few days, however, before he was offered $100 for his claim and accepted it. He then proceeded to Mankato, where he left his family, and sought a new location, " far from the haunts of men."

After a thorough and extensive tour of inspection, he finally selected a portion of section 32 in what is now the town of Wilton, where most of his famih'^ still reside. He reached this place with the family in the month of August, and at once broke about two acres of land, and set about providing hay and shelter for his cattle and sheep. A "shanty" for himself and family was at once reared. It was a work of some magnitude to prepare for winter, but his energy and industry overcame all obstacles, and by the latter part of November he was ready to return to Wisconsin with his family, leaving his cattle and premises in charge of Luther Barrett, formerly of Horicon, Wis. Mr. Sutlief and family made their return trip in a covered ox-wagon, arriving at Herman, Wis., in the early part of December, 1854.

On the 9th of January, 1855, Mr. Sutlief and James E. Child left Herman for Minnesota with three yoke of oxen, a wagon and a sled. At Fox Lake they were joined by S. P. Child, then a boy of nineteen, from Waupun, Wis., whose whole capital consisted of a trunk of clothes, three hogs and considerable " sand." He was to assist in driving the teams and hogs belonging to Mr. Sutlief, for his board while on the road.

Nothing of striking importance occurred on the journey until their arrival at La Crosse. At this point they crossed the river in the dark and on ice which had formed since the January thaw. The act of crossing was a dangerous one and a less venturesome man than Mr. Sutlief would, at least, have taken daylight for the undertaking. About 9 o'clock in the evening they stopped at a small house on the west side of the Mississippi, occupied by a Mr. Plummer and his wife. Here a couple of days were spent while Mr. Plummer was getting ready to join the company. It took nearly all the first day after starting to get the loaded vehicles to the top of the river bluff, and the party returned to the shanty for the night.

Early next morning all hands turned out, and the first rays of the sun found them on the trail, going westward. The day turned out cloudy and storni}'^, but the drive was short, and just before dark tkey stopped at a little frame house near the road, about five miles east of the site of the present village of St. Charles. The next morning an early start was made so as to reach Rochester, then called Zumbro Falls, that night. The day was pleasant, but the snow had drifted in many places, which made traveling very slow. It was necessary in some places to shovel out, or unhitch the teams and drive them back and forth through the drifts, before attempting to get through with the loads, and although the teams were urged forward as fast as shouting and whipping could do it, yet it was eleven o'clock at night before they reached a stoppingplace. The night was cold, and Mr. Sutlief frosted his cheeks, ears, nose and feet, and Mr. Plummer and S. P. Child, their feet sUghtly. The house was filled with travelers ; the beds were all full ; the floor was nearly covered with sleepers, and there was no room for these last arrivals except in a log shanty "lean-to" with its Dutch fireplace. This afforded about the poorest protection from cold that could well be imagined, even by a western man. The roof was made of oak shakes, the crevices were not plastered or daubed, and the prairie blizzard whistled through it with a lavish liberality altogether unpleasant. Our travelers made a huge fii"e, and passed the night in turning first one side, and then the other to it, after the old fashion of roasting spare ribs before the fire.

The next morning the wind blew a gale, and the thermometer indicated twentj'-eight degrees below zero, rendering travel across the prairies simply impossible. All parties were compelled to remain over during the day. There were over forty travelers thus detained. This place being on the stage road from Dubuque to St. Paul accounted for so many being there. Many a good story, and some not so good, were told that da}'^, and jokes passed among them in a manner pecuHar to the west. One fellow, a liquor peddler, was quite chagrined at finding his whiskey keg bottom end up, the bung-hole open and its contents spread out on the snow. The crowd insisted that he had been on a spree, and had left the keg in that condition himself, and as no one pretended to know anything to the contrary, he was obliged to smother his pent-up wrath, and make the best of the matter. His attempt at the retail business in the morning was, without doubt, the primary cause of his sad loss, at least some of the ladies intimated as much.

The wind lulled during the night, and the next morning was bright and pleasant. Our " first settlers " "tackled up" early and started across the prairie for Mantorville. That village was then less than a year old and contained only three or four small, log cabins. This was the last settlement on the road of our travelers until they reached their destination. Did you ever see a treeless, uninhabited prairie in midwinter <! Imagine, if you will, that four men, a woman and her small child are about to start across a prairie wilderness without an inhabitant, without a road, destitute of a tent, the temperature ten degrees below zero, to spenil three days and two nights with no shelter save the starry canopy of heaven. Such was the reckless and foolhardy undertaking of the first settlers of this county, on the morning of the 30th of January, 1855. The atmosphere was cold and filled with frost, though the sky was cloudless.

They left Mantorville, after loading on what hay they could take with them, bearing south of west until they struck the south tier of sections in townshi]) 10(3, and then kept due west, guided by the section posts set the fall before, by the United States surveyors. About noon they came near los ing one of their teams in a deep narrow creek, but finally succeeded in crossing without serious damage. About sunset, they arrived at a small grov'^e of burr oaks, near the source of one branch of the Zumbro Eiver, where they concluded to camp. The oxen were soon unyoked and fed, a large camp-fire built, supper prepared and consumed, stories told and songs sung. The evening was very pleasant, with a slight breeze from the west.

About 9 o'clock they spread their hay beds upon the snow, under the wagons, and laid themselves down for the night, covei'ing themselves, head and ears, with quilts and blankets. They slept soundly until 3 o'clock the next morning, when all hands were aroused by the cr}^ of "fire!" coming from Mr. Sutlief, who had been " warmed out." Upon awakening, it was ascertained that the wind had changed during the night, blowing bi'iskly from the south, and had thrown the fire upon Mr. Sutlief s bed. It took some time to extinguish the fire in the bed clothing, and when that was accomplished, and they had fairly recovered from the excitement, it was discovered that their cattle had left them, taking the back track to the settlement. Two of the men started in pursuit with furious feelings and at a furious rate of foot speed. The cattle were overtaken about five miles from camp, and ordered back in the forcible language peculiar to the ox-teamster of the west. They i-eturned to camp half an hour before daylight, partook of a hearty breakfast with the rest of the company, and just as the sun made its appearance, all hands started in a due westerly course.

The day was intensely cold, and it required considerable activity to keep from freezing. There was a hard crust on the snow, which imi^eded progress and cut the cattle's legs so badly tliat blood was left in their tracks. Several deep snow drifts were encountered during the da}\ That night they encamped in a thicket of hazel brush and poj)lar trees, with some oaks, about six or eight miles south of what is now Owatonna. This was a splendid place. The brush and trees formed a thicket which was a great protection to both man and beast. The great difficult}^ was want of food for the cattle. They had no hay except what was in the

The men cleared away the brush and snow, and soon made a large camp-fire, and Mrs. Plumraer prepared a warm supper, which was eaten with a relish. The members of the company were not quite as much given to songs and stories and funny jokes as on the previous evening. The romance of camping-out in winter had lost somewhat of its charms to them after two days' experience. They piled high the camp-fire with fuel, and retired early to beds, which were made on the snowy ground. The wind came up from the northwest in the evening, and before morning the weather was very cold. Long before daylight thej^ had arisen, fed the cattle what hay was in the beds and eaten breakfast. As soon as there was daylight enough to enable them to keep their course, they renewed their journey. They crossed the Le Sueur River, in what is now the town of New Richland, with some difficulty, the banks being very steep. They then took for their guide a large oak tree standing alone on section 36, in Wilton Townsliip, about a mile from the Sutlief shanty.

They reached Mr. Sutlief's place about 4 o'clock p. m., where they found Mr. Barrett who had been trapping and taking care of Sutlief's cattle during the winter. To say that every member of the company was thankful for a safe resting-place would but faintly describe the feelings of the first settlers, on their arrival.

The condition of the country at that time, however, was not very inviting. The prairie was covered with snow and ice; the trees looked short and scrubby ; the weather was severely cold ; not a postoffice nearer than thirty-five miles, no letters, no newspapers ; no houses nor barns, nor fences, nor human beings met the gaze in any direction. At that time Mr. Sutlief's shanty was the only human habitation between the Winnebaeo

The Indian Massacre

The following from the pen of William Brisbane has been published in the Waseca Herald., but as a picture of the exciting days of Indian massacre of 1862, it is needed to the completeness of these annals, and therefore no apology is necessary for its insertion in this place:

Wilton was soon to be aroused from her Rip Van Winkle slumber, with this difference : that instead of waking up after the war, she awoke to find the nation engaged in a hand to hand struggle for existence. One day the citizens had met to bid good-by to a number of the boys who were starting for the front, some of whom never came back, but offered up their lives a willing sacrifice upon the altar of their country. The last wagon was barely out of sight when the stage from the west brought us the terrilile news of the Indian massacre. The people were so confounded that they couldn't be brought to realize the fact that such a bloody tragedy had been enacted. About midafternoon, when the excitement had somewhat cooled, it was suddenly kindled again into fever heat, by the appearance of two men in a covered buggy, one a white man, the other an Indian grasping a rifle. The white man said they were from the agency and that the Winnebagoes were making very warlike demonstrations, and that they had come to solicit immediate help. Here then, we thought, was war at our very doors, and most all of our young men gone south. A meeting was held and volunteers called for. All seemed chock-full of patriotism, and spoiling for fight. It was agreed that the volunteers should secure what arms they could and meet at the Globe Hotel, at 8 o'clock that night. On my way to Wilton, I called upon Peter Van Dyke, who in the afternoon seemed to have no other thought but just to kill two at a blow ; but a change had come over his dream of military glory, for I found Peter in bed groaning with neuralgia. His wife (the better man of the two) shamed him and called him a coward. Very few came at the time appointed, and I began to think that neuralgia had become epidemical. If memory serves me right, three wagons started about 11 o'clock. The night was pitch dark, with a heavy, drizzling rain falling, and the roads almost impassable. "We had taken with us all the ammunition Wilton could furnish, not forgetting a little drop of the " craithur," but on such a night the supply was not equal to the demand, and the men began to doze, but were suddenly startled into life again by the second wagon running into the one ahead, which had stopped. Upon inquiring what the matter was, the teamster said that he had heard an Indian war whoop, and refused to go on. While deliberating upon the situation, the loud crowing of roosters broke the stillness of the scene around us. So, after a not very hearty laugh, we started ahead again, and arrived at the agency, as the day began to break, wearied and jaded enough. Balcombe, the agent, received us with apparent gratitude, and thanked us for responding so promptly to the call for aid. A few bales of Indian blankets were ripped open and spread down as couches for us to lie upon and rest, but our nerves were too much excited by the novelty of our surroundings to get the rest we so much needed ; so, getting up and performing our ablutions, we thought we would take a stroll and reconnoiter a little ; but here we were met by a difficulty we were hardly prepared for. Col. Ide and Balcombe objected to our taking our guns with us, as it might excite the Indians, they said. I remarked that if the Indians had any hostile intentions they would be more apt to attack unarmed men than if they had arms in their hands. The Colonel didn't think that there was any danger. Then if there is no danger, I said, why are we here ? I saw I had no influence, and finally gave in, leaving our guns in a room of the government store-house. While sauntering along, a few Indians passed us. One of them complimented us by in English, anyway. We concluded that things presented a rather warlike aspect, and that we had better go and secure our guns ; but to our surprise we found the door of the room in which we had left our guns locked, and nobody could tell who had the key. I said I would find a key, grasping a stick of cordwood. Just then a man by the name of Dyer came running with the key. He said that he had gone out on the prairie for a load of hay and taken the key with him. At night we were doomed to another surprise. The storekeeper, Jim Hubbell, Col. Ide and Agent Balcombe proposed dividing the men and stationing one party at liubbell's store and the other part}'^ at the government storehouse. This I strenuously opposed, as there were so few of us ; however, I told Balcombe if he would assume the responsibilit}^ of command, I would willingly serve under him until troops arrived. He said he would assume no resi5onsibilit3% though he distributed a few flasks of powder amonfrst us. Here then we found no one to act as leader, and with no plan of action, so that in case of an attack it would be every man for hiinself and the devil take the hindmost. It looked to me as if we were running with eyes open into a trap, and I began to wish myself well out of it. The next day was distribution day, but few Indians were around ; they were down in the woods holding a pow-wow. The squaws came for the provisions and they cut a very ludicrous figui-e as they waddled away with a bag of flour and a chunk of pork strapped on their backs. In the afternoon the Indians came from the woods, dressed in aU their toggery and war paint. A sort of council was held ; the Indians formed in a circle, with the chiefs and interpreter in the center. The chiefs, according to the interpreter, complained of unfair dealing by the agent. The scene, with its surroundings, was extremely picturesque. "While walking around in the evening along with a man by the name of Burgess, we saw two squaws leave a store carrying something between them. They kneeled down on the prairie, applying their hands in quick successive movements to their mouths. I felt a curiosity to see what they were doing. I found them engaged in the delectable employment of eating sugar. They motioned me to kneel and partake with them. I did so, but I believe I forgot to ask a blessing, my mind being too much engrossed by the novelty of the scene.

The next morning dawned amid great excitement. A report had come in that the Indians had burned Mankato, and the stage being some two hours behind time gave color to the rejjort. John Greening started on horseback for Mankato to make a reconnaissance and report as quickly as possible. John started off in gallant style, an excellent caricature of Don Quixote charging windmills. Shortly after, became gallopingback shouting, " Mankato all right ; no burn, and stage a-coming!" A few of us promptly seized the stage when it drove up, and demanded to be taken back to Wilton. This caused considerable flutter. One woman said that she wouldn't give that (snapping her fingers) for her life if we went away. Dyer, bare-headed and excited, came and told me that Balcombe wanted to see me. I

Col. Ide said : ''You will be very sorry when you hear that we are all killed." " Yes," said I, " very." You can judge of our surprise when we came to Wilton to find Mrs. Balcombe and Mrs. Hubbell waiting for the stage. I learned long after that they had taken a team early in the morning and gone by what they call the timber road.

As no troops had yet arrived at the agency, and our own homes were exposed to danger, a military company was formed called the Wilton home guards. Warren

Smith was lieutenant, and J. E. Child drilled us in the manual exercise, assisted by Col. Ide when difficult military maneuvers were to be executed. I often thought that I would die from laughing when the Colonel was teaching us how to march through narrow defiles. We had to march almost sideways, which gave us such a limping kind of gait that a strans:er would have thought that we had all been wounded in battle, and crippled for life. We were dressed in blue jean jackets and pants. I am sure that if such a military company were to appear on the streets of Waseca to-day they would be taken for military cranks, or foolish school-boys playing soldier for the fun of the thing.

Thrashing By Moonlight

H. P. Chamberlain relates that the first thrashing he had at his place took place in January, 1858. Machinery to do this work was scarce in the county and those who coujd not secure the services of the thrasher early, had to wait. One bitter cold night in January, when the thermometer indicated that it was twenty degrees below zero, the men who had agreed to do this work for Mr. Chamberlain made their appearance at his house and announced that they must do the job then and there, as they had to return to Wilton, where they lived, to attend a dance the veiy next evening.

Reasoning or expostulation was in vain, go to that dance they would ; so Mr. Chamberlain, making a virtue of necessity, sallied out and with some difficulty mustered up a sufficient crew, and all hands went to work. All night hmg they toiled in the intense cold, and by morning they had the job done, and after a warm meal went on their way rejoicing, and tradition tells that they reached Wilton that evening in good time to join the festive dance, the work of the past night not seeming to affect their iron frames or to detract from their enjoyment.

Bloody Tragedy

annals of the early settlement of Woodville Township, although tlie deed was justified at the time and has passed from the minds of all but a few of the participants therein. It was upon a clear, cold night in the winter of - well, never mind the year, but to be exact enough, say it was when Waseca County was in its extreme infancy. The snow, with fleecy mantle covered all the earth to the depth of a couple of feet or more, and the twinkling stars gleamed down through the frosty air upon the peaceful cabin of a pioneer in Woodville Township. This man, E. K. Carlton, with his family had retired to their couches to court the god of sleep, believing with the poet that

Sounds proceeded from the house like the prolonged howls of the hungry cayote, and demonstrated the fact that the tired farmer and his sons were deeply plunged in lethean slumber. Suddenly a terrible outciy arose upon the still, midnight air, which roused the sleepers from their couches, and with distended ej'es and lifting hair, they asked each other, "What's the matter?" The robust pioneer, nothing daunted, plunged out doors in the undress uniform in which he had tumbled out of bed, and waded through the snow toward his chicken house, whence there proceeded such a terrible, din, such a clatter and such an outcry as has seldom been heard before on so prolonged and extensive a scale. Trembling with wrath, he quickly threw open the door and introducing his huge proportions, after a short chase, with iron hand he grasped the graceless intruder upon his preserves. Vengeance dire flashed from his eyes,

Suddenl}'^ he heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, and turning to meet his new antagonist, never loosening his tight hold upon the thief he had secured, however, he discovered, to his great joy that it was only

" Confusion dire and worse confounded," had hastened to his assistance. No word was spoken, but with ruthless hands these sturdy pioneers, in answer to the rough teachings of the frontier code, proceeded to coolly destroy the life of the scamp whose strong love for the poultry of his neighbor had led into such fearful straits. While Carlton compressed his victim's frame with bands like those of steel, Powell calmly and collectedly as if he were performing a benevolent action, cut the throat of the wretch with the sharp knife which he carried in his hand. A moment after, the bleeding corpse dropped upon the ground, his life-blood crimsoning the pearly whiteness of the glistening snow. Recalled at length to himself by the intense cold, which penetrated the scanty attire in which Carlton was clad, the two men passed on to their house, and as a last "good-night" was said, one remarked, " That's the largest mink I ever saw."

First Sad Misfortune

Shortly after the arrival in this county of the company of " first settlers," Messrs. Barrett, Sutlief and S. P. Child started for Mankato with a portion of their cattle, in order to have them kept there until spring, as provender was running short. Mr. Sutlief returned in a few days, leaving Child at Van Brunt's sawmill to get in logs for lumber. Owing to some misunderstanding, Child, after remaining there a few days, started to return to Sutlief's, intending to stop over night at the shanty of Mansfield and Callen, about four miles south of the Winnebago agency. On his arrival at that place, finding the house deserted and the door locked, he concluded to push on to Sutlief's that day. The snow was deep, especiall}^ in low places, often taking aman in waist deep.

During the middle of tiie day it was quite warm, melting the snow, some of which worked into his boots, making both them and his socks quite wet. Toward evening the weather became colder, and, despite all his efforts, his feet began to freeze soon after dark. There was no track or road that could be followed, and he was only enabled to keep his course by a star, which he selected as his guide. One can better imagine than describe the emotions of this boy, for he was scarcely more, thus toiling on amid the shades of night, over an uninhabited prairie, among wolves and otlier wild animals, spurred on to reach a place of shelter or to perish miserably of cold and fatigue. Hour after hour wore away, for he could travel but slowly ; his feet to his ankles frozen hard ; drowsiness came over him, and yet no signs of the cabin could he discover. Exhausted and discouraged, still he struggled on until, finally, he saw a light. It beamed across the snow from the window of the shanty he was in search of. He had passed it to the south, and but that fortunately the inmates were at work much later than usual that evening, the light would have been put out and he would not have seen the caljin, but would have passed on to death in the cold and snow.

He reached the shanty between ten and eleven o'clock, more dead than alive. His boots and socles were frozen tight to his feet and ankles. Some time and much labor were required to remove them, but it finally was accomplished. Tiie sufferings he endured for many weeks cannot be described. No medical aid could be obtained, and the flesh on his feet literally rotted away, leaving the blackened bones of his toes exposed. Many weeks passed before lie could step on his feet, and it was months before he could walk without the aid of crutches. Most of the bones of his toes were taken off b^' his brother who used a razor for the purpose.

aid was obtained and more bones removed. In July he had so far recovered the use of his feet that he took the position of cook for the employes of the government at the Winnebago agency, among the Winnebago Indians, who had been brought to this reservation during the month of June, that year.

The Great Snow Stoem

Perhaps no annals of the county of Waseca would be complete without some mention of the great snow storm of January 7, 1873, that was totally unparalleled in this part of the country in the memory of the oldest inhabitants. To quote from the Waseca WeeMy News of that date :

The morning opened comparatively pleasant, and as the day worn on, the growing moisture of the atmosphere caused many to hope that the severity of the winter had passed, and that we were entering upon the mild season known as the January thaw. In the afternoon, however, dark clouds gathered in the west, and about 3 o'clock the wind commenced blowing a gale, producing a rapid change in the temperature, and at the same time the air was filled with snow, which was driven with great force into every opening, however small, by the terrific fury of the howling blast. The sun soon withdrew his light, and soon an almost impenetrable darkness settled upon the earth like a funeral pall, bringing with it intense cold, made doubly so by the driving, penetrating force of the wind. This continued without interruption througliout the night, and Wednesday morning opened upon us, one of those intensely furious days which once in a while visits this high northern latitude, and the remembrance of which is retained by the old settlers and constitutes the theme of their conversation upon each succeeding occasion.

Tlie sun was shut out by thick clouds, and throughout Wednesday, Wednesday night and Thursday until about midnight, the fierce blasts of the storm king drove the snow in vast quantities over the whole northwest, making a winding sheet for the many men, women and children that were caught in its icy embrace. l\o pen can fully describe the terriffic death chill of the fifty-six hours during which this storm raged.

Fortunately Waseca County had not a death to chronicle among her inhabitants, although many had narrow escapes from following the hundred or more of wretched mortals all over this and adjoining States, who were forced to succumb to the grim king of terrors clothed in this hideous mantle of snow.

As has been shown above, the day was a pleasant one, and many people had taken advantage of it to go to town, to go over to the " other place " or to visit neighbors. It so happened that Alfred Smith, then living on section 5, in Woodville Township, had gone over to the farm where his father had settled, about a mile away, with his team. About the time that the storm had got well under way, his daughter Lovica, then a girl of about seventeen years of age, who had been washing out the clothes, threw a shawl over her head, and taking a little brother with her, went out and up the road looking for her father. For part of the way the grove on the west side of the road shut off the gale, and she did not realize that the storm was of any unusual character. Coming to the end of the grove the brother ran back, but she pushed on, nothing daunted, thinking that she must soon meet her father. But thinly clad, no wrap around her except a light cotton shawl thrown over her head and held together by her naked hands, she soon became aware that she must turn back or perish from the cold, for the wind that swept down upon her from the west was of arctic severity. Retracing her steps, blinded by the whirling, drifting snow, confused b}' the savage fury of the wind, she took the wrong road where the two crossed and wandered on across the bleak prairie, death staring her in the face. Battling bravely she pushed on, her limbs chilled by the cold, her form growing faint beneath the merciless pelting of the storm, until she reached the grove near the house of Obediah Powell, where she halted but a moment, when knowing that it was death to stop, she pushed on, and spying a light she made her way to Mr. Powell's house. So confused was she, so bewildered by the blizzard, and unhinged by the tension upon her nerves, that she did not know for a few moments where she was nor who were the friends she had stumbled upon. Soon the genial hospitality of Mrs. Powell, the light and warmth of the room, restored her, and she was made comfortable. She suffered but little inconvenience ' from her terrible experience except a soreness, the flesh naving been chilled, but not frozen.