Old Rail Fence Corners - Various

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settlers or traders would occupy it. He said a trader by the name of Martin McLeod was living there and that Kittson, another trader, lived at his trading post about fifty yards away from the house. There was a good wagon road about where the road is now. My friend, for such he later became, told me it led to the government mill at the Falls of St. Anthony, but that it took longer to walk it than it did the Indian trail that led along the bank of the Mississippi. So I took this as advised. There were many Indians on the trail going and coming. All at once I heard a great commotion ahead of me. Indians were running from every direction. When I came to the place where they all were, I heard lamentations and fierce imprecations. I saw the reason there. Two of their warriors were lying dead and scalped, while clambering up the opposite bank of the river, three of the Sioux's sworn enemies, three Chippewas, could be seen. The slain were head men in the tribe. The guns and arrows of the Sioux could not carry across the river, so they escaped for the time being. I was afraid the Sioux vengeance would fall on me, but it did not.

      I soon came to the St. Louis house. While there, I saw Walter McLeod, then a baby.

      McLeod, the father, had fled from Canada at the time of one of the rebellions, in company with others, but was the only one to survive a terrible blizzard and reach Mendota. Mr. Sibley at once employed him as he was well educated. When he was married later, he gave him some fine mahogany furniture, from his own home, to set up housekeeping with.

      While at the St. Louis House, I walked with a soldier along the Indian trail that followed the river bank to the government mill at the Falls of St. Anthony. On our way, we went down a deep ravine and crossed the creek on a log. We could hear the roaring of falls and walked over to see them. They were the most beautiful I had ever seen and were called Brown's Falls, but General LeDuc in 1852 gave them the name Minnehaha. I thought I had never seen anything quite so pretty looking as the river and woods. The deer were everywhere and game of all kinds bountiful. The soldier told me that no white man could settle here anywhere for ten miles as it was all in the Fort Snelling reservation. That is why the town of St. Anthony was built on the east side of the river instead of on the west side and why there was no town on this side of the river for many years after. We saw some Sioux tepees and met the Indians constantly. They were a fine sturdy race, with fine features and smiling faces. The soldier said they could be depended on and never broke a promise. The old mill was on the river bank about where we used to take the cars in the old Union Station. It was not then in use, as the rocks had broken off, leaving it perhaps forty or fifty feet from the Falls. A flume had to be constructed before it could again be used.

      The Falls were a grand sight. We heard their roaring long before we could see them and saw the spray sparkling in the sunlight. There was a watchman living in a little hut and he gave us a nice meal. A few Sioux wigwams were near.

      On the other side, we could see smoke 'way up above where the suspension bridge now is. He said some Frenchmen and half breeds lived there. The place was called St. Anthony. We did not go over. He also said there were many white people, French, Scotch and English living in the country upon the Red River. Some were called Selkirk settlers. He did not know why. He said Martin McLeod had been one of these.

      We passed some squaws in a big dugout. It was thirty feet long. There were fourteen of them in the boat.

      There was no boat leaving the fort for some time so I went to Mendota, crossing the Minnesota River in a canoe ferry. My business at Mendota was to present a letter of introduction to Mr. Sibley, Manager of the American Fur Trading Co., from the missionary board of Ohio and see how I could reach Lac qui Parle. I arrived at Mr. Sibley's home just about noon. He told me he had a boat leaving in two weeks and that I could go on her. He said he had several of these boats plying to Traverse des Sioux. He was a gentlemanly looking man and very pleasant spoken. With the courtliness that always distinguished him, he asked me if I had dined and being informed that I had not, invited me to do so; I replied, "I am obliged to you sir." I was told that the furniture of massive mahogany had been brought up the river by boat.

      The table was waited upon by an Indian woman. The meal was bountiful. I had a helping of meat, very juicy and fine flavored, much like tenderloin of today, a strip of fat and a strip of lean. My host said, "I suppose you know what this is?" I replied, "Yes, it is the finest roast beef I have ever tasted." "No," said Mr. Sibley, "this is what we call 'boss' of buffalo and is the hump on the back of a young male buffalo." "Whatever it is, it is the best meat I have ever tasted," I declared.

      Some dried beef on a plate on the end of the table was also delicious. Mr. Sibley again challenged me to tell what this was;—My reply being "dried beef." "No," said Mr. Sibley, "This too, is something you have never tasted before—it is boned dried beaver's tail. Over five thousand of them, as well as the skins have been brought in here during the year." There was also O'Donnell crackers and tea, but no bread. The tea, I was told, had been brought hundreds of miles up the river.

      I bade my host farewell, thanking him for his entertainment and thinking I had never met a more courteous gentleman. Mr. Sibley, too, had told me that the St. Louis house was the best place I could stay, so I returned there.

      For my journey down the river, I had brought with me a tarpaulin and a few of my worldly goods. I hired a man with an ox-cart to take these to the boat before dawn the day it was to leave, preparatory to my early start at sunup. The boat was about sixty feet long and propelled only by hand power, furnished by French half breeds who pushed it with long poles from the front, running rapidly and then taking a fresh start to push it again. These boats could make about twenty miles a day. They almost reached Shakopee the first day. At ten o'clock the boat tied up and breakfast was served. This was a very hot, thick soup made of peas and pork which had been cooked all night over hot coals in a hole in the ground, covered snugly over with earth. It had been wrapped in a heavy tarpaulin and buffalo robe and when served was piping hot, as it came from this first fireless cooker. Hardtack was served with this soup and made a most satisfactory meal. The other meal consisted of bacon and hardtack and at the end of the eighth day, had become quite monotonous. Whenever these meals were prepared, the boat was tied to the bank.

      The mosquitoes, even in the daytime were so terrible that it was almost impossible to live. I looked forward to the time when we would tie up for the night, with great apprehension on this account. However, the clerk of the boat came to me and asked me if I had a mosquito net with me and when I said, "No" invited me to sleep under his as he said it would be unbearable without one. Just before they tied up for the night the clerk came to me saying that he was sorry, but he had forgotten that he had a wife in this village. I spent the night in misery under my tarpaulin, almost eaten alive by the mosquitoes. The half breeds did not seem to mind them at all. I again looked forward to a night under the mosquito bar and was again told the same as the night before. During the eight days which this journey consumed, I was only able once to sleep a night under the friendly protection of this mosquito bar, as it was always required for a wife.

      When the boat tied up at Traverse des Sioux, Mr. Williamson met me. The trader sent a man to invite the three white men to dine with him. The invitation was accepted with great anticipation. The trader's house was a log cabin. The furniture consisted of roughly hewn benches and a table. An Indian woman brought in first a wooden bowl full of maple sugar which she placed on one end of the table with bowls and wooden spoons at the three places. We were all eyes when we saw these preparations. Last, she brought in a large bowl of something which I could see was snow-white and put that in the center of the table. All were then told to draw up to the table and help themselves. The bright anticipations vanished when the meal was seen to consist solely of clabbered milk with black looking maple sugar.

      Mr. Williamson left me at Traverse to go East. Before going he helped me load all our supplies into the two Red River carts which he had brought. There were six hundred pounds on each. The trail was very easy to follow and I walked along by the side of the slow going oxen. By keeping up until late, and getting up at daybreak, I made the trip in seven days. For the first four days I was followed by a great gaunt shape that made me uneasy. I knew if it was a dog it would have come nearer. I slept under the cart the first night, but was conscious of its presence as the cattle were restless. On the fourth day of its enforced company, I met a little caravan of carts owned by a Frenchman who was with the half breeds. I told him of my stealthy companion,

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