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diff --git a/18359-0.txt b/18359-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5081952 --- /dev/null +++ b/18359-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5650 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Story of My Boyhood and Youth, by John Muir + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Story of My Boyhood and Youth + +Author: John Muir + +Release Date: May 9, 2006 [eBook #18359] +[Most recently updated: July 15, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Juliet Sutherland, Jeannie Howse and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH *** + + + + +Transcriber’s Note: + +A number of words have been inconsistently hyphenated in this text. +For a complete list, please see the end of this document. + +cover + + + + +THE STORY OF MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH + +BY + +_John Muir_ + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SKETCHES + +BY THE AUTHOR + +BOSTON AND NEW YORK + +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + +The Riverside Press Cambridge + +COPYRIGHT, 1912 AND 1913, BY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY COMPANY + +COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY JOHN MUIR + +_Published March 1913_ + +FOURTEENTH IMPRESSION + +The Riverside Press + +CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS + +PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. + +John Muir + +John MuirToList + + +Contents + +I. A BOYHOOD IN SCOTLAND + Earliest Recollections—The “Dandy Doctor” Terror—Deeds + of Daring—The Savagery of Boys—School and + Fighting—Birds’-nesting. +II. A NEW WORLD + Stories of America—Glorious News—Crossing the + Atlantic—The New Home—A Baptism in Nature—New + Birds—The Adventures of Watch—Scotch + Correction—Marauding Indians. +III. LIFE ON A WISCONSIN FARM 90 + Humanity in Oxen—Jack, the Pony—Learning to Ride—Nob + and Nell—Snakes—Mosquitoes and their Kin—Fish and + Fishing—Considering the Lilies—Learning to Swim—A + Narrow Escape from Drowning and a Victory—Accidents to + Animals. +IV. A PARADISE OF BIRDS + Bird Favorites—The Prairie Chickens—Water-Fowl—A Loon + on the Defensive—Passenger Pigeons. +V. YOUNG HUNTERS + American Head-Hunters—Deer—A Resurrected + Woodpecker—Muskrats—Foxes and Badgers—A Pet + Coon—Bathing—Squirrels—Gophers—A Burglarious Shrike. +VI. THE PLOUGHBOY + The Crops—Doing Chores—The Sights and Sounds of + Winter—Road-making—The Spirit-rapping + Craze—Tuberculosis among the Settlers—A Cruel + Brother—The Rights of the Indians—Put to the Plough at + the Age of Twelve—In the Harvest-Field—Over-Industry + among the Settlers—Running the Breaking-Plough—Digging + a Well—Choke-Damp—Lining Bees. +VII. KNOWLEDGE AND INVENTIONS + Hungry for Knowledge—Borrowing Books—Paternal + Opposition—Snatched Moments—Early Rising proves a Way + out of Difficulties—The Cellar Workshop—Inventions—An + Early-Rising Machine—Novel Clocks—Hygrometers, etc.—A + Neighbor’s Advice. +VIII. THE WORLD AND THE UNIVERSITY + Leaving Home—Creating a Sensation in Pardeeville—A Ride + on a Locomotive—At the State Fair in Madison—Employment + in a Machine-Shop at Prairie du Chien—Back to + Madison—Entering the University—Teaching School—First + Lesson in Botany—More Inventions—The University of the + Wilderness. +INDEX + +_Illustrations_ + +John Muir _Frontispiece_ +Muir’s Lake (Fountain Lake) and the Garden Meadow 62 +Our First Wisconsin Home 100 +Clock with Hand rising and setting with the Sun, invented +by the Author in his Boyhood 132 +Barometer invented by the Author in his Boyhood 164 +Combined Thermometer, Hygrometer, Barometer, and +Pyrometer, invented by the Author in his Boyhood 196 +The Hickory Hill House, built in 1857 230 +Thermometer invented by the Author in his Boyhood 258 +Self-Setting Sawmill. Model built in Cellar. Invented by +the Author in his Boyhood 258 +My Desk, made and used at the Wisconsin State University 284 + + + + +_The Story of My Boyhood and Youth_ + +IToC + +A BOYHOOD IN SCOTLAND + +Earliest Recollections—The “Dandy Doctor” Terror—Deeds of Daring—The +Savagery of Boys—School and Fighting—Birds’-nesting. + + +When I was a boy in Scotland I was fond of everything that was wild, +and all my life I’ve been growing fonder and fonder of wild places and +wild creatures. Fortunately around my native town of Dunbar, by the +stormy North Sea, there was no lack of wildness, though most of the +land lay in smooth cultivation. With red-blooded playmates, wild as +myself, I loved to wander in the fields to hear the birds sing, and +along the seashore to gaze and wonder at the shells and seaweeds, eels +and crabs in the pools among the rocks when the tide was low; and best +of all to watch the waves in awful storms thundering on the black +headlands and craggy ruins of the old Dunbar Castle when the sea and +the sky, the waves and the clouds, were mingled together as one. We +never thought of playing truant, but after I was five or six years old +I ran away to the seashore or the fields almost every Saturday, and +every day in the school vacations except Sundays, though solemnly +warned that I must play at home in the garden and back yard, lest I +should learn to think bad thoughts and say bad words. All in vain. In +spite of the sure sore punishments that followed like shadows, the +natural inherited wildness in our blood ran true on its glorious course +as invincible and unstoppable as stars. + +My earliest recollections of the country were gained on short walks +with my grandfather when I was perhaps not over three years old. On one +of these walks grandfather took me to Lord Lauderdale’s gardens, where +I saw figs growing against a sunny wall and tasted some of them, and +got as many apples to eat as I wished. On another memorable walk in a +hay-field, when we sat down to rest on one of the haycocks I heard a +sharp, prickly, stinging cry, and, jumping up eagerly, called +grandfather’s attention to it. He said he heard only the wind, but I +insisted on digging into the hay and turning it over until we +discovered the source of the strange exciting sound,—a mother field +mouse with half a dozen naked young hanging to her teats. This to me +was a wonderful discovery. No hunter could have been more excited on +discovering a bear and her cubs in a wilderness den. + +I was sent to school before I had completed my third year. The first +schoolday was doubtless full of wonders, but I am not able to recall +any of them. I remember the servant washing my face and getting soap in +my eyes, and mother hanging a little green bag with my first book in it +around my neck so I would not lose it, and its blowing back in the +sea-wind like a flag. But before I was sent to school my grandfather, +as I was told, had taught me my letters from shop signs across the +street. I can remember distinctly how proud I was when I had spelled my +way through the little first book into the second, which seemed large +and important, and so on to the third. Going from one book to another +formed a grand triumphal advancement, the memories of which still stand +out in clear relief. + +The third book contained interesting stories as well as plain +reading-and spelling-lessons. To me the best story of all was +“Llewellyn’s Dog,” the first animal that comes to mind after the +needle-voiced field mouse. It so deeply interested and touched me and +some of my classmates that we read it over and over with aching hearts, +both in and out of school and shed bitter tears over the brave faithful +dog, Gelert, slain by his own master, who imagined that he had devoured +his son because he came to him all bloody when the boy was lost, though +he had saved the child’s life by killing a big wolf. We have to look +far back to learn how great may be the capacity of a child’s heart for +sorrow and sympathy with animals as well as with human friends and +neighbors. This auld-lang-syne story stands out in the throng of old +schoolday memories as clearly as if I had myself been one of that Welsh +hunting-party—heard the bugles blowing, seen Gelert slain, joined in +the search for the lost child, discovered it at last happy and smiling +among the grass and bushes beside the dead, mangled wolf, and wept with +Llewellyn over the sad fate of his noble, faithful dog friend. + +Another favorite in this book was Southey’s poem “The Inchcape Bell,” a +story of a priest and a pirate. A good priest in order to warn seamen +in dark stormy weather hung a big bell on the dangerous Inchcape Rock. +The greater the storm and higher the waves, the louder rang the warning +bell, until it was cut off and sunk by wicked Ralph the Rover. One fine +day, as the story goes, when the bell was ringing gently, the pirate +put out to the rock, saying, “I’ll sink that bell and plague the Abbot +of Aberbrothok.” So he cut the rope, and down went the bell “with a +gurgling sound; the bubbles rose and burst around,” etc. Then “Ralph +the Rover sailed away; he scoured the seas for many a day; and now, +grown rich with plundered store, he steers his course for Scotland’s +shore.” Then came a terrible storm with cloud darkness and night +darkness and high roaring waves, “Now where we are,” cried the pirate, +“I cannot tell, but I wish I could hear the Inchcape bell.” And the +story goes on to tell how the wretched rover “tore his hair,” and +“curst himself in his despair,” when “with a shivering shock” the stout +ship struck on the Inchcape Rock, and went down with Ralph and his +plunder beside the good priest’s bell. The story appealed to our love +of kind deeds and of wildness and fair play. + +A lot of terrifying experiences connected with these first schooldays +grew out of crimes committed by the keeper of a low lodging-house in +Edinburgh, who allowed poor homeless wretches to sleep on benches or +the floor for a penny or so a night, and, when kind Death came to their +relief, sold the bodies for dissection to Dr. Hare of the medical +school. None of us children ever heard anything like the original +story. The servant girls told us that “Dandy Doctors,” clad in long +black cloaks and supplied with a store of sticking-plaster of wondrous +adhesiveness, prowled at night about the country lanes and even the +town streets, watching for children to choke and sell. The Dandy +Doctor’s business method, as the servants explained it, was with +lightning quickness to clap a sticking-plaster on the face of a +scholar, covering mouth and nose, preventing breathing or crying for +help, then pop us under his long black cloak and carry us to Edinburgh +to be sold and sliced into small pieces for folk to learn how we were +made. We always mentioned the name “Dandy Doctor” in a fearful whisper, +and never dared venture out of doors after dark. In the short winter +days it got dark before school closed, and in cloudy weather we +sometimes had difficulty in finding our way home unless a servant with +a lantern was sent for us; but during the Dandy Doctor period the +school was closed earlier, for if detained until the usual hour the +teacher could not get us to leave the schoolroom. We would rather stay +all night supperless than dare the mysterious doctors supposed to be +lying in wait for us. We had to go up a hill called the Davel Brae that +lay between the schoolhouse and the main street. One evening just +before dark, as we were running up the hill, one of the boys shouted, +“A Dandy Doctor! A Dandy Doctor!” and we all fled pellmell back into +the schoolhouse to the astonishment of Mungo Siddons, the teacher. I +can remember to this day the amused look on the good dominie’s face as +he stared and tried to guess what had got into us, until one of the +older boys breathlessly explained that there was an awful big Dandy +Doctor on the Brae and we couldna gang hame. Others corroborated the +dreadful news. “Yes! We saw him, plain as onything, with his lang black +cloak to hide us in, and some of us thought we saw a sticken-plaister +ready in his hand.” We were in such a state of fear and trembling that +the teacher saw he wasn’t going to get rid of us without going himself +as leader. He went only a short distance, however, and turned us over +to the care of the two biggest scholars, who led us to the top of the +Brae and then left us to scurry home and dash into the door like +pursued squirrels diving into their holes. + +Just before school skaled (closed), we all arose and sang the fine hymn +“Lord, dismiss us with Thy blessing.” In the spring when the swallows +were coming back from their winter homes we sang— + +“Welcome, welcome, little stranger, +Welcome from a foreign shore; +Safe escaped from many a danger ...” + +and while singing we all swayed in rhythm with the music. “The Cuckoo,” +that always told his name in the spring of the year, was another +favorite song, and when there was nothing in particular to call to mind +any special bird or animal, the songs we sang were widely varied, such +as + +“The whale, the whale is the beast for me, +Plunging along through the deep, deep sea.” + +But the best of all was “Lord, dismiss us with Thy blessing,” though at +that time the most significant part I fear was the first three words. + +With my school lessons father made me learn hymns and Bible verses. For +learning “Rock of Ages” he gave me a penny, and I thus became suddenly +rich. Scotch boys are seldom spoiled with money. We thought more of a +penny those economical days than the poorest American schoolboy thinks +of a dollar. To decide what to do with that first penny was an +extravagantly serious affair. I ran in great excitement up and down the +street, examining the tempting goodies in the shop windows before +venturing on so important an investment. My playmates also became +excited when the wonderful news got abroad that Johnnie Muir had a +penny, hoping to obtain a taste of the orange, apple, or candy it was +likely to bring forth. + +At this time infants were baptized and vaccinated a few days after +birth. I remember very well a fight with the doctor when my brother +David was vaccinated. This happened, I think, before I was sent to +school. I couldn’t imagine what the doctor, a tall, severe-looking man +in black, was doing to my brother, but as mother, who was holding him +in her arms, offered no objection, I looked on quietly while he +scratched the arm until I saw blood. Then, unable to trust even my +mother, I managed to spring up high enough to grab and bite the +doctor’s arm, yelling that I wasna gan to let him hurt my bonnie +brither, while to my utter astonishment mother and the doctor only +laughed at me. So far from complete at times is sympathy between +parents and children, and so much like wild beasts are baby boys, +little fighting, biting, climbing pagans. + +Father was proud of his garden and seemed always to be trying to make +it as much like Eden as possible, and in a corner of it he gave each of +us a little bit of ground for our very own in which we planted what we +best liked, wondering how the hard dry seeds could change into soft +leaves and flowers and find their way out to the light; and, to see how +they were coming on, we used to dig up the larger ones, such as peas +and beans, every day. My aunt had a corner assigned to her in our +garden which she filled with lilies, and we all looked with the utmost +respect and admiration at that precious lily-bed and wondered whether +when we grew up we should ever be rich enough to own one anything like +so grand. We imagined that each lily was worth an enormous sum of money +and never dared to touch a single leaf or petal of them. We really +stood in awe of them. Far, far was I then from the wild lily gardens of +California that I was destined to see in their glory. + +When I was a little boy at Mungo Siddons’s school a flower-show was +held in Dunbar, and I saw a number of the exhibitors carrying large +handfuls of dahlias, the first I had ever seen. I thought them +marvelous in size and beauty and, as in the case of my aunt’s lilies, +wondered if I should ever be rich enough to own some of them. + +Although I never dared to touch my aunt’s sacred lilies, I have good +cause to remember stealing some common flowers from an apothecary, +Peter Lawson, who also answered the purpose of a regular physician to +most of the poor people of the town and adjacent country. He had a pony +which was considered very wild and dangerous, and when he was called +out of town he mounted this wonderful beast, which, after standing long +in the stable, was frisky and boisterous, and often to our delight +reared and jumped and danced about from side to side of the street +before he could be persuaded to go ahead. We boys gazed in awful +admiration and wondered how the druggist could be so brave and able as +to get on and stay on that wild beast’s back. This famous Peter loved +flowers and had a fine garden surrounded by an iron fence, through the +bars of which, when I thought no one saw me, I oftentimes snatched a +flower and took to my heels. One day Peter discovered me in this +mischief, dashed out into the street and caught me. I screamed that I +wouldna steal any more if he would let me go. He didn’t say anything +but just dragged me along to the stable where he kept the wild pony, +pushed me in right back of its heels, and shut the door. I was +screaming, of course, but as soon as I was imprisoned the fear of being +kicked quenched all noise. I hardly dared breathe. My only hope was in +motionless silence. Imagine the agony I endured! I did not steal any +more of his flowers. He was a good hard judge of boy nature. + +I was in Peter’s hands some time before this, when I was about two and +a half years old. The servant girl bathed us small folk before putting +us to bed. The smarting soapy scrubbings of the Saturday nights in +preparation for the Sabbath were particularly severe, and we all +dreaded them. My sister Sarah, the next older than me, wanted the +long-legged stool I was sitting on awaiting my turn, so she just tipped +me off. My chin struck on the edge of the bath-tub, and, as I was +talking at the time, my tongue happened to be in the way of my teeth +when they were closed by the blow, and a deep gash was cut on the side +of it, which bled profusely. Mother came running at the noise I made, +wrapped me up, put me in the servant girl’s arms and told her to run +with me through the garden and out by a back way to Peter Lawson to +have something done to stop the bleeding. He simply pushed a wad of +cotton into my mouth after soaking it in some brown astringent stuff, +and told me to be sure to keep my mouth shut and all would soon be +well. Mother put me to bed, calmed my fears, and told me to lie still +and sleep like a gude bairn. But just as I was dropping off to sleep I +swallowed the bulky wad of medicated cotton and with it, as I imagined, +my tongue also. My screams over so great a loss brought mother, and +when she anxiously took me in her arms and inquired what was the +matter, I told her that I had swallowed my tongue. She only laughed at +me, much to my astonishment, when I expected that she would bewail the +awful loss her boy had sustained. My sisters, who were older than I, +oftentimes said when I happened to be talking too much, “It’s a pity +you hadn’t swallowed at least half of that long tongue of yours when +you were little.” + +It appears natural for children to be fond of water, although the +Scotch method of making every duty dismal contrived to make necessary +bathing for health terrible to us. I well remember among the awful +experiences of childhood being taken by the servant to the seashore +when I was between two and three years old, stripped at the side of a +deep pool in the rocks, plunged into it among crawling crawfish and +slippery wriggling snake-like eels, and drawn up gasping and shrieking +only to be plunged down again and again. As the time approached for +this terrible bathing, I used to hide in the darkest corners of the +house, and oftentimes a long search was required to find me. But after +we were a few years older, we enjoyed bathing with other boys as we +wandered along the shore, careful, however, not to get into a pool that +had an invisible boy-devouring monster at the bottom of it. Such pools, +miniature maelstroms, were called “sookin-in-goats” and were well known +to most of us. Nevertheless we never ventured into any pool on strange +parts of the coast before we had thrust a stick into it. If the stick +were not pulled out of our hands, we boldly entered and enjoyed +plashing and ducking long ere we had learned to swim. + +One of our best playgrounds was the famous old Dunbar Castle, to which +King Edward fled after his defeat at Bannockburn. It was built more +than a thousand years ago, and though we knew little of its history, we +had heard many mysterious stories of the battles fought about its +walls, and firmly believed that every bone we found in the ruins +belonged to an ancient warrior. We tried to see who could climb highest +on the crumbling peaks and crags, and took chances that no cautious +mountaineer would try. That I did not fall and finish my +rock-scrambling in those adventurous boyhood days seems now a +reasonable wonder. + +Among our best games were running, jumping, wrestling, and scrambling. +I was so proud of my skill as a climber that when I first heard of hell +from a servant girl who loved to tell its horrors and warn us that if +we did anything wrong we would be cast into it, I always insisted that +I could climb out of it. I imagined it was only a sooty pit with stone +walls like those of the castle, and I felt sure there must be chinks +and cracks in the masonry for fingers and toes. Anyhow the terrors of +the horrible place seldom lasted long beyond the telling; for natural +faith casts out fear. + +Most of the Scotch children believe in ghosts, and some under peculiar +conditions continue to believe in them all through life. Grave ghosts +are deemed particularly dangerous, and many of the most credulous will +go far out of their way to avoid passing through or near a graveyard in +the dark. After being instructed by the servants in the nature, looks, +and habits of the various black and white ghosts, boowuzzies, and +witches we often speculated as to whether they could run fast, and +tried to believe that we had a good chance to get away from most of +them. To improve our speed and wind, we often took long runs into the +country. Tam o’ Shanter’s mare outran a lot of witches,—at least until +she reached a place of safety beyond the keystone of the bridge,—and we +thought perhaps we also might be able to outrun them. + +Our house formerly belonged to a physician, and a servant girl told us +that the ghost of the dead doctor haunted one of the unoccupied rooms +in the second story that was kept dark on account of a heavy +window-tax. Our bedroom was adjacent to the ghost room, which had in it +a lot of chemical apparatus,—glass tubing, glass and brass retorts, +test-tubes, flasks, etc.,—and we thought that those strange articles +were still used by the old dead doctor in compounding physic. In the +long summer days David and I were put to bed several hours before +sunset. Mother tucked us in carefully, drew the curtains of the big +old-fashioned bed, and told us to lie still and sleep like gude bairns; +but we were usually out of bed, playing games of daring called +“scootchers,” about as soon as our loving mother reached the foot of +the stairs, for we couldn’t lie still, however hard we might try. Going +into the ghost room was regarded as a very great scootcher. After +venturing in a few steps and rushing back in terror, I used to dare +David to go as far without getting caught. + +The roof of our house, as well as the crags and walls of the old +castle, offered fine mountaineering exercise. Our bedroom was lighted +by a dormer window. One night I opened it in search of good scootchers +and hung myself out over the slates, holding on to the sill, while the +wind was making a balloon of my nightgown. I then dared David to try +the adventure, and he did. Then I went out again and hung by one hand, +and David did the same. Then I hung by one finger, being careful not to +slip, and he did that too. Then I stood on the sill and examined the +edge of the left wall of the window, crept up the slates along its side +by slight finger-holds, got astride of the roof, sat there a few +minutes looking at the scenery over the garden wall while the wind was +howling and threatening to blow me off, then managed to slip down, +catch hold of the sill, and get safely back into the room. But before +attempting this scootcher, recognizing its dangerous character, with +commendable caution I warned David that in case I should happen to slip +I would grip the rain-trough when I was going over the eaves and hang +on, and that he must then run fast downstairs and tell father to get a +ladder for me, and tell him to be quick because I would soon be tired +hanging dangling in the wind by my hands. After my return from this +capital scootcher, David, not to be outdone, crawled up to the top of +the window-roof, and got bravely astride of it; but in trying to return +he lost courage and began to greet (to cry), “I canna get doon. Oh, I +canna get doon.” I leaned out of the window and shouted encouragingly, +“Dinna greet, Davie, dinna greet, I’ll help ye doon. If you greet, +fayther will hear, and gee us baith an awfu’ skelping.” Then, standing +on the sill and holding on by one hand to the window-casing, I directed +him to slip his feet down within reach, and, after securing a good +hold, I jumped inside and dragged him in by his heels. This finished +scootcher-scrambling for the night and frightened us into bed. + +In the short winter days, when it was dark even at our early bedtime, +we usually spent the hours before going to sleep playing voyages around +the world under the bed-clothing. After mother had carefully covered +us, bade us good-night and gone downstairs, we set out on our travels. +Burrowing like moles, we visited France, India, America, Australia, New +Zealand, and all the places we had ever heard of; our travels never +ending until we fell asleep. When mother came to take a last look at +us, before she went to bed, to see that we were covered, we were +oftentimes covered so well that she had difficulty in finding us, for +we were hidden in all sorts of positions where sleep happened to +overtake us, but in the morning we always found ourselves in good +order, lying straight like gude bairns, as she said. + +Some fifty years later, when I visited Scotland, I got one of my Dunbar +schoolmates to introduce me to the owners of our old home, from whom I +obtained permission to go upstairs to examine our bedroom window and +judge what sort of adventure getting on its roof must have been, and +with all my after experience in mountaineering, I found that what I had +done in daring boyhood was now beyond my skill. + +Boys are often at once cruel and merciful, thoughtlessly hard-hearted +and tender-hearted, sympathetic, pitiful, and kind in ever changing +contrasts. Love of neighbors, human or animal, grows up amid savage +traits, coarse and fine. When father made out to get us securely locked +up in the back yard to prevent our shore and field wanderings, we had +to play away the comparatively dull time as best we could. One of our +amusements was hunting cats without seriously hurting them. These +sagacious animals knew, however, that, though not very dangerous, boys +were not to be trusted. One time in particular I remember, when we +began throwing stones at an experienced old Tom, not wishing to hurt +him much, though he was a tempting mark. He soon saw what we were up +to, fled to the stable, and climbed to the top of the hay manger. He +was still within range, however, and we kept the stones flying faster +and faster, but he just blinked and played possum without wincing +either at our best shots or at the noise we made. I happened to strike +him pretty hard with a good-sized pebble, but he still blinked and sat +still as if without feeling. “He must be mortally wounded,” I said, +“and now we must kill him to put him out of pain,” the savage in us +rapidly growing with indulgence. All took heartily to this sort of cat +mercy and began throwing the heaviest stones we could manage, but that +old fellow knew what characters we were, and just as we imagined him +mercifully dead he evidently thought the play was becoming too serious +and that it was time to retreat; for suddenly with a wild whirr and +gurr of energy he launched himself over our heads, rushed across the +yard in a blur of speed, climbed to the roof of another building and +over the garden wall, out of pain and bad company, with all his lives +wideawake and in good working order. + +After we had thus learned that Tom had at least nine lives, we tried to +verify the common saying that no matter how far cats fell they always +landed on their feet unhurt. We caught one in our back yard, not Tom +but a smaller one of manageable size, and somehow got him smuggled up +to the top story of the house. I don’t know how in the world we managed +to let go of him, for as soon as we opened the window and held him over +the sill he knew his danger and made violent efforts to scratch and +bite his way back into the room; but we determined to carry the thing +through, and at last managed to drop him. I can remember to this day +how the poor creature in danger of his life strained and balanced as he +was falling and managed to alight on his feet. This was a cruel thing +for even wild boys to do, and we never tried the experiment again, for +we sincerely pitied the poor fellow when we saw him creeping slowly +away, stunned and frightened, with a swollen black and blue chin. + +Again—showing the natural savagery of boys—we delighted in dog-fights, +and even in the horrid red work of slaughter-houses, often running long +distances and climbing over walls and roofs to see a pig killed, as +soon as we heard the desperately earnest squealing. And if the butcher +was good-natured, we begged him to let us get a near view of the +mysterious insides and to give us a bladder to blow up for a foot-ball. + +But here is an illustration of the better side of boy nature. In our +back yard there were three elm trees and in the one nearest the house a +pair of robin-redbreasts had their nest. When the young were almost +able to fly, a troop of the celebrated “Scottish Grays,” visited +Dunbar, and three or four of the fine horses were lodged in our stable. +When the soldiers were polishing their swords and helmets, they +happened to notice the nest, and just as they were leaving, one of them +climbed the tree and robbed it. With sore sympathy we watched the young +birds as the hard-hearted robber pushed them one by one beneath his +jacket,—all but two that jumped out of the nest and tried to fly, but +they were easily caught as they fluttered on the ground, and were +hidden away with the rest. The distress of the bereaved parents, as +they hovered and screamed over the frightened crying children they so +long had loved and sheltered and fed, was pitiful to see; but the +shining soldier rode grandly away on his big gray horse, caring only +for the few pennies the young songbirds would bring and the beer they +would buy, while we all, sisters and brothers, were crying and sobbing. +I remember, as if it happened this day, how my heart fairly ached and +choked me. Mother put us to bed and tried to comfort us, telling us +that the little birds would be well fed and grow big, and soon learn to +sing in pretty cages; but again and again we rehearsed the sad story of +the poor bereaved birds and their frightened children, and could not be +comforted. Father came into the room when we were half asleep and still +sobbing, and I heard mother telling him that, “a’ the bairns’ hearts +were broken over the robbing of the nest in the elm.” + +After attaining the manly, belligerent age of five or six years, very +few of my schooldays passed without a fist fight, and half a dozen was +no uncommon number. When any classmate of our own age questioned our +rank and standing as fighters, we always made haste to settle the +matter at a quiet place on the Davel Brae. To be a “gude fechter” was +our highest ambition, our dearest aim in life in or out of school. To +be a good scholar was a secondary consideration, though we tried hard +to hold high places in our classes and gloried in being Dux. We fairly +reveled in the battle stories of glorious William Wallace and Robert +the Bruce, with which every breath of Scotch air is saturated, and of +course we were all going to be soldiers. On the Davel Brae battleground +we often managed to bring on something like real war, greatly more +exciting than personal combat. Choosing leaders, we divided into two +armies. In winter damp snow furnished plenty of ammunition to make the +thing serious, and in summer sand and grass sods. Cheering and shouting +some battle-cry such as “Bannockburn! Bannockburn! Scotland forever! +The Last War in India!” we were led bravely on. For heavy battery work +we stuffed our Scotch blue bonnets with snow and sand, sometimes mixed +with gravel, and fired them at each other as cannon-balls. + +Of course we always looked eagerly forward to vacation days and thought +them slow in coming. Old Mungo Siddons gave us a lot of gooseberries or +currants and wished us a happy time. Some sort of special +closing-exercises—singing, recitations, etc.—celebrated the great day, +but I remember only the berries, freedom from school work, and +opportunities for run-away rambles in the fields and along the +wave-beaten seashore. + +An exciting time came when at the age of seven or eight years I left +the auld Davel Brae school for the grammar school. Of course I had a +terrible lot of fighting to do, because a new scholar had to meet every +one of his age who dared to challenge him, this being the common +introduction to a new school. It was very strenuous for the first month +or so, establishing my fighting rank, taking up new studies, especially +Latin and French, getting acquainted with new classmates and the master +and his rules. In the first few Latin and French lessons the new +teacher, Mr. Lyon, blandly smiled at our comical blunders, but +pedagogical weather of the severest kind quickly set in, when for every +mistake, everything short of perfection, the taws was promptly applied. +We had to get three lessons every day in Latin, three in French, and as +many in English, besides spelling, history, arithmetic, and geography. +Word lessons in particular, the wouldst-couldst-shouldst-have-loved +kind, were kept up, with much warlike thrashing, until I had committed +the whole of the French, Latin, and English grammars to memory, and in +connection with reading-lessons we were called on to recite parts of +them with the rules over and over again, as if all the regular and +irregular incomprehensible verb stuff was poetry. In addition to all +this, father made me learn so many Bible verses every day that by the +time I was eleven years of age I had about three fourths of the Old +Testament and all of the New by heart and by sore flesh. I could recite +the New Testament from the beginning of Matthew to the end of +Revelation without a single stop. The dangers of cramming and of making +scholars study at home instead of letting their little brains rest were +never heard of in those days. We carried our school-books home in a +strap every night and committed to memory our next day’s lessons before +we went to bed, and to do that we had to bend our attention as closely +on our tasks as lawyers on great million-dollar cases. I can’t conceive +of anything that would now enable me to concentrate my attention more +fully than when I was a mere stripling boy, and it was all done by +whipping,—thrashing in general. Old-fashioned Scotch teachers spent no +time in seeking short roads to knowledge, or in trying any of the +new-fangled psychological methods so much in vogue nowadays. There was +nothing said about making the seats easy or the lessons easy. We were +simply driven pointblank against our books like soldiers against the +enemy, and sternly ordered, “Up and at ’em. Commit your lessons to +memory!” If we failed in any part, however slight, we were whipped; for +the grand, simple, all-sufficing Scotch discovery had been made that +there was a close connection between the skin and the memory, and that +irritating the skin excited the memory to any required degree. + +Fighting was carried on still more vigorously in the high school than +in the common school. Whenever any one was challenged, either the +challenge was allowed or it was decided by a battle on the seashore, +where with stubborn enthusiasm we battered each other as if we had not +been sufficiently battered by the teacher. When we were so fortunate as +to finish a fight without getting a black eye, we usually escaped a +thrashing at home and another next morning at school, for other traces +of the fray could be easily washed off at a well on the church brae, or +concealed, or passed as results of playground accidents; but a black +eye could never be explained away from downright fighting. A good +double thrashing was the inevitable penalty, but all without avail; +fighting went on without the slightest abatement, like natural storms; +for no punishment less than death could quench the ancient inherited +belligerence burning in our pagan blood. Nor could we be made to +believe it was fair that father and teacher should thrash us so +industriously for our good, while begrudging us the pleasure of +thrashing each other for our good. All these various thrashings, +however, were admirably influential in developing not only memory but +fortitude as well. For if we did not endure our school punishments and +fighting pains without flinching and making faces, we were mocked on +the playground, and public opinion on a Scotch playground was a +powerful agent in controlling behavior; therefore we at length managed +to keep our features in smooth repose while enduring pain that would +try anybody but an American Indian. Far from feeling that we were +called on to endure too much pain, one of our playground games was +thrashing each other with whips about two feet long made from the +tough, wiry stems of a species of polygonum fastened together in a +stiff, firm braid. One of us handing two of these whips to a companion +to take his choice, we stood up close together and thrashed each other +on the legs until one succumbed to the intolerable pain and thus lost +the game. Nearly all of our playground games were +strenuous,—shin-battering shinny, wrestling, prisoners’ base, and dogs +and hares,—all augmenting in no slight degree our lessons in fortitude. +Moreover, we regarded our punishments and pains of every sort as +training for war, since we were all going to be soldiers. Besides +single combats we sometimes assembled on Saturdays to meet the scholars +of another school, and very little was required for the growth of +strained relations, and war. The immediate cause might be nothing more +than a saucy stare. Perhaps the scholar stared at would insolently +inquire, “What are ye glowerin’ at, Bob?” Bob would reply, “I’ll look +where I hae a mind and hinder me if ye daur.” “Weel, Bob,” the outraged +stared-at scholar would reply, “I’ll soon let ye see whether I daur or +no!” and give Bob a blow on the face. This opened the battle, and every +good scholar belonging to either school was drawn into it. After both +sides were sore and weary, a strong-lunged warrior would be heard above +the din of battle shouting, “I’ll tell ye what we’ll dae wi’ ye. If +ye’ll let us alane we’ll let ye alane!” and the school war ended as +most wars between nations do; and some of them begin in much the same +way. + +Notwithstanding the great number of harshly enforced rules, not very +good order was kept in school in my time. There were two schools within +a few rods of each other, one for mathematics, navigation, etc., the +other, called the grammar school, that I attended. The masters lived in +a big freestone house within eight or ten yards of the schools, so that +they could easily step out for anything they wanted or send one of the +scholars. The moment our master disappeared, perhaps for a book or a +drink, every scholar left his seat and his lessons, jumped on top of +the benches and desks or crawled beneath them, tugging, rolling, +wrestling, accomplishing in a minute a depth of disorder and din +unbelievable save by a Scottish scholar. We even carried on war, class +against class, in those wild, precious minutes. A watcher gave the +alarm when the master opened his house-door to return, and it was a +great feat to get into our places before he entered, adorned in awful +majestic authority, shouting “Silence!” and striking resounding blows +with his cane on a desk or on some unfortunate scholar’s back. + +Forty-seven years after leaving this fighting school, I returned on a +visit to Scotland, and a cousin in Dunbar introduced me to a minister +who was acquainted with the history of the school, and obtained for me +an invitation to dine with the new master. Of course I gladly accepted, +for I wanted to see the old place of fun and pain, and the battleground +on the sands. Mr. Lyon, our able teacher and thrasher, I learned, had +held his place as master of the school for twenty or thirty years after +I left it, and had recently died in London, after preparing many young +men for the English Universities. At the dinner-table, while I was +recalling the amusements and fights of my old schooldays, the minister +remarked to the new master, “Now, don’t you wish that you had been +teacher in those days, and gained the honor of walloping John Muir?” +This pleasure so merrily suggested showed that the minister also had +been a fighter in his youth. The old freestone school building was +still perfectly sound, but the carved, ink-stained desks were almost +whittled away. + +The highest part of our playground back of the school commanded a view +of the sea, and we loved to watch the passing ships and, judging by +their rigging, make guesses as to the ports they had sailed from, those +to which they were bound, what they were loaded with, their tonnage, +etc. In stormy weather they were all smothered in clouds and spray, and +showers of salt scud torn from the tops of the waves came flying over +the playground wall. In those tremendous storms many a brave ship +foundered or was tossed and smashed on the rocky shore. When a wreck +occurred within a mile or two of the town, we often managed by running +fast to reach it and pick up some of the spoils. In particular I +remember visiting the battered fragments of an unfortunate brig or +schooner that had been loaded with apples, and finding fine unpitiful +sport in rushing into the spent waves and picking up the red-cheeked +fruit from the frothy, seething foam. + +All our school-books were extravagantly illustrated with drawings of +every kind of sailing-vessel, and every boy owned some sort of craft +whittled from a block of wood and trimmed with infinite pains,—sloops, +schooners, brigs, and full-rigged ships, with their sails and string +ropes properly adjusted and named for us by some old sailor. These +precious toy craft with lead keels we learned to sail on a pond near +the town. With the sails set at the proper angle to the wind, they made +fast straight voyages across the pond to boys on the other side, who +readjusted the sails and started them back on the return voyages. +Oftentimes fleets of half a dozen or more were started together in +exciting races. + +Our most exciting sport, however, was playing with gunpowder. We made +guns out of gas-pipe, mounted them on sticks of any shape, clubbed our +pennies together for powder, gleaned pieces of lead here and there and +cut them into slugs, and, while one aimed, another applied a match to +the touch-hole. With these awful weapons we wandered along the beach +and fired at the gulls and solan-geese as they passed us. Fortunately +we never hurt any of them that we knew of. We also dug holes in the +ground, put in a handful or two of powder, tamped it well around a fuse +made of a wheat-stalk, and, reaching cautiously forward, touched a +match to the straw. This we called making earthquakes. Oftentimes we +went home with singed hair and faces well peppered with powder-grains +that could not be washed out. Then, of course, came a correspondingly +severe punishment from both father and teacher. + +Another favorite sport was climbing trees and scaling garden-walls. +Boys eight or ten years of age could get over almost any wall by +standing on each other’s shoulders, thus making living ladders. To make +walls secure against marauders, many of them were finished on top with +broken bottles imbedded in lime, leaving the cutting edges sticking up; +but with bunches of grass and weeds we could sit or stand in comfort on +top of the jaggedest of them. + +Like squirrels that begin to eat nuts before they are ripe, we began to +eat apples about as soon as they were formed, causing, of course, +desperate gastric disturbances to be cured by castor oil. Serious were +the risks we ran in climbing and squeezing through hedges, and, of +course, among the country folk we were far from welcome. Farmers +passing us on the roads often shouted by way of greeting: “Oh, you +vagabonds! Back to the toon wi’ ye. Gang back where ye belang. You’re +up to mischief, Ise warrant. I can see it. The gamekeeper’ll catch ye, +and maist like ye’ll a’ be hanged some day.” + +Breakfast in those auld-lang-syne days was simple oatmeal porridge, +usually with a little milk or treacle, served in wooden dishes called +“luggies,” formed of staves hooped together like miniature tubs about +four or five inches in diameter. One of the staves, the lug or ear, a +few inches longer than the others, served as a handle, while the number +of luggies ranged in a row on a dresser indicated the size of the +family. We never dreamed of anything to come after the porridge, or of +asking for more. Our portions were consumed in about a couple of +minutes; then off to school. At noon we came racing home ravenously +hungry. The midday meal, called dinner, was usually vegetable broth, a +small piece of boiled mutton, and barley-meal scone. None of us liked +the barley scone bread, therefore we got all we wanted of it, and in +desperation had to eat it, for we were always hungry, about as hungry +after as before meals. The evening meal was called “tea” and was served +on our return from school. It consisted, as far as we children were +concerned, of half a slice of white bread without butter, barley scone, +and warm water with a little milk and sugar in it, a beverage called +“content,” which warmed but neither cheered nor inebriated. Immediately +after tea we ran across the street with our books to Grandfather +Gilrye, who took pleasure in seeing us and hearing us recite our next +day’s lessons. Then back home to supper, usually a boiled potato and +piece of barley scone. Then family worship, and to bed. + +Our amusements on Saturday afternoons and vacations depended mostly on +getting away from home into the country, especially in the spring when +the birds were calling loudest. Father sternly forbade David and me +from playing truant in the fields with plundering wanderers like +ourselves, fearing we might go on from bad to worse, get hurt in +climbing over walls, caught by gamekeepers, or lost by falling over a +cliff into the sea. “Play as much as you like in the back yard and +garden,” he said, “and mind what you’ll get when you forget and +disobey.” Thus he warned us with an awfully stern countenance, looking +very hard-hearted, while naturally his heart was far from hard, though +he devoutly believed in eternal punishment for bad boys both here and +hereafter. Nevertheless, like devout martyrs of wildness, we stole away +to the seashore or the green, sunny fields with almost religious +regularity, taking advantage of opportunities when father was very +busy, to join our companions, oftenest to hear the birds sing and hunt +their nests, glorying in the number we had discovered and called our +own. A sample of our nest chatter was something like this: Willie +Chisholm would proudly exclaim—“I ken (know) seventeen nests, and you, +Johnnie, ken only fifteen.” + +“But I wouldna gie my fifteen for your seventeen, for five of mine are +larks and mavises. You ken only three o’ the best singers.” + +“Yes, Johnnie, but I ken six goldies and you ken only one. Maist of +yours are only sparrows and linties and robin-redbreasts.” + +Then perhaps Bob Richardson would loudly declare that he “kenned mair +nests than onybody, for he kenned twenty-three, with about fifty eggs +in them and mair than fifty young birds—maybe a hundred. Some of them +naething but raw gorblings but lots of them as big as their mithers and +ready to flee. And aboot fifty craw’s nests and three fox dens.” + +“Oh, yes, Bob, but that’s no fair, for naebody counts craw’s nests and +fox holes, and then you live in the country at Belle-haven where ye +have the best chance.” + +“Yes, but I ken a lot of bumbee’s nests, baith the red-legged and the +yellow-legged kind.” + +“Oh, wha cares for bumbee’s nests!” + +“Weel, but here’s something! Ma father let me gang to a fox hunt, and +man, it was grand to see the hounds and the lang-legged horses lowpin +the dykes and burns and hedges!” + +The nests, I fear, with the beautiful eggs and young birds, were prized +quite as highly as the songs of the glad parents, but no Scotch boy +that I know of ever failed to listen with enthusiasm to the songs of +the skylarks. Oftentimes on a broad meadow near Dunbar we stood for +hours enjoying their marvelous singing and soaring. From the grass +where the nest was hidden the male would suddenly rise, as straight as +if shot up, to a height of perhaps thirty or forty feet, and, +sustaining himself with rapid wing-beats, pour down the most delicious +melody, sweet and clear and strong, overflowing all bounds, then +suddenly he would soar higher again and again, ever higher and higher, +soaring and singing until lost to sight even on perfectly clear days, +and oftentimes in cloudy weather “far in the downy cloud,” as the poet +says. + +To test our eyes we often watched a lark until he seemed a faint speck +in the sky and finally passed beyond the keenest-sighted of us all. “I +see him yet!” we would cry, “I see him yet!” “I see him yet!” “I see +him yet!” as he soared. And finally only one of us would be left to +claim that he still saw him. At last he, too, would have to admit that +the singer had soared beyond his sight, and still the music came +pouring down to us in glorious profusion, from a height far above our +vision, requiring marvelous power of wing and marvelous power of voice, +for that rich, delicious, soft, and yet clear music was distinctly +heard long after the bird was out of sight. Then, suddenly ceasing, the +glorious singer would appear, falling like a bolt straight down to his +nest, where his mate was sitting on the eggs. + +It was far too common a practice among us to carry off a young lark +just before it could fly, place it in a cage, and fondly, laboriously +feed it. Sometimes we succeeded in keeping one alive for a year or two, +and when awakened by the spring weather it was pitiful to see the +quivering imprisoned soarer of the heavens rapidly beating its wings +and singing as though it were flying and hovering in the air like its +parents. To keep it in health we were taught that we must supply it +with a sod of grass the size of the bottom of the cage, to make the +poor bird feel as though it were at home on its native meadow,—a meadow +perhaps a foot or at most two feet square. Again and again it would try +to hover over that miniature meadow from its miniature sky just +underneath the top of the cage. At last, conscience-stricken, we +carried the beloved prisoner to the meadow west of Dunbar where it was +born, and, blessing its sweet heart, bravely set it free, and our +exceeding great reward was to see it fly and sing in the sky. + +In the winter, when there was but little doing in the fields, we +organized running-matches. A dozen or so of us would start out on races +that were simply tests of endurance, running on and on along a public +road over the breezy hills like hounds, without stopping or getting +tired. The only serious trouble we ever felt in these long races was an +occasional stitch in our sides. One of the boys started the story that +sucking raw eggs was a sure cure for the stitches. We had hens in our +back yard, and on the next Saturday we managed to swallow a couple of +eggs apiece, a disgusting job, but we would do almost anything to mend +our speed, and as soon as we could get away after taking the cure we +set out on a ten or twenty mile run to prove its worth. We thought +nothing of running right ahead ten or a dozen miles before turning +back; for we knew nothing about taking time by the sun, and none of us +had a watch in those days. Indeed, we never cared about time until it +began to get dark. Then we thought of home and the thrashing that +awaited us. Late or early, the thrashing was sure, unless father +happened to be away. If he was expected to return soon, mother made +haste to get us to bed before his arrival. We escaped the thrashing +next morning, for father never felt like thrashing us in cold blood on +the calm holy Sabbath. But no punishment, however sure and severe, was +of any avail against the attraction of the fields and woods. It had +other uses, developing memory, etc., but in keeping us at home it was +of no use at all. Wildness was ever sounding in our ears, and Nature +saw to it that besides school lessons and church lessons some of her +own lessons should be learned, perhaps with a view to the time when we +should be called to wander in wildness to our heart’s content. Oh, the +blessed enchantment of those Saturday runaways in the prime of the +spring! How our young wondering eyes reveled in the sunny, breezy glory +of the hills and the sky, every particle of us thrilling and tingling +with the bees and glad birds and glad streams! Kings may be blessed; we +were glorious, we were free,—school cares and scoldings, heart +thrashings and flesh thrashings alike, were forgotten in the fullness +of Nature’s glad wildness. These were my first excursions,—the +beginnings of lifelong wanderings. + + + + +IIToC + +A NEW WORLD + +Stories of America—Glorious News—Crossing the Atlantic—The New Home—A +Baptism in Nature—New Birds—The Adventures of Watch—Scotch +Correction—Marauding Indians. + + +Our grammar-school reader, called, I think, “Maccoulough’s Course of +Reading,” contained a few natural-history sketches that excited me very +much and left a deep impression, especially a fine description of the +fish hawk and the bald eagle by the Scotch ornithologist Wilson, who +had the good fortune to wander for years in the American woods while +the country was yet mostly wild. I read his description over and over +again, till I got the vivid picture he drew by heart,—the long-winged +hawk circling over the heaving waves, every motion watched by the eagle +perched on the top of a crag or dead tree; the fish hawk poising for a +moment to take aim at a fish and plunging under the water; the eagle +with kindling eye spreading his wings ready for instant flight in case +the attack should prove successful; the hawk emerging with a struggling +fish in his talons, and proud flight; the eagle launching himself in +pursuit; the wonderful wing-work in the sky, the fish hawk, though +encumbered with his prey, circling higher, higher, striving hard to +keep above the robber eagle; the eagle at length soaring above him, +compelling him with a cry of despair to drop his hard-won prey; then +the eagle steadying himself for a moment to take aim, descending swift +as a lightning-bolt, and seizing the falling fish before it reached the +sea. + +Not less exciting and memorable was Audubon’s wonderful story of the +passenger pigeon, a beautiful bird flying in vast flocks that darkened +the sky like clouds, countless millions assembling to rest and sleep +and rear their young in certain forests, miles in length and breadth, +fifty or a hundred nests on a single tree; the overloaded branches +bending low and often breaking; the farmers gathering from far and +near, beating down countless thousands of the young and old birds from +their nests and roosts with long poles at night, and in the morning +driving their bands of hogs, some of them brought from farms a hundred +miles distant, to fatten on the dead and wounded covering the ground. + +In another of our reading-lessons some of the American forests were +described. The most interesting of the trees to us boys was the sugar +maple, and soon after we had learned this sweet story we heard +everybody talking about the discovery of gold in the same wonder-filled +country. + +One night, when David and I were at grandfather’s fireside solemnly +learning our lessons as usual, my father came in with news, the most +wonderful, most glorious, that wild boys ever heard. “Bairns,” he said, +“you needna learn your lessons the nicht, for we’re gan to America the +morn!” No more grammar, but boundless woods full of mysterious good +things; trees full of sugar, growing in ground full of gold; hawks, +eagles, pigeons, filling the sky; millions of birds’ nests, and no +gamekeepers to stop us in all the wild, happy land. We were utterly, +blindly glorious. After father left the room, grandfather gave David +and me a gold coin apiece for a keepsake, and looked very serious, for +he was about to be deserted in his lonely old age. And when we in +fullness of young joy spoke of what we were going to do, of the +wonderful birds and their nests that we should find, the sugar and +gold, etc., and promised to send him a big box full of that tree sugar +packed in gold from the glorious paradise over the sea, poor lonely +grandfather, about to be forsaken, looked with downcast eyes on the +floor and said in a low, trembling, troubled voice, “Ah, poor laddies, +poor laddies, you’ll find something else ower the sea forbye gold and +sugar, birds’ nests and freedom fra lessons and schools. You’ll find +plenty hard, hard work.” And so we did. But nothing he could say could +cloud our joy or abate the fire of youthful, hopeful, fearless +adventure. Nor could we in the midst of such measureless excitement see +or feel the shadows and sorrows of his darkening old age. To my +schoolmates, met that night on the street, I shouted the glorious news, +“I’m gan to Amaraka the morn!” None could believe it. I said, “Weel, +just you see if I am at the skule the morn!” + +Next morning we went by rail to Glasgow and thence joyfully sailed away +from beloved Scotland, flying to our fortunes on the wings of the +winds, care-free as thistle seeds. We could not then know what we were +leaving, what we were to encounter in the New World, nor what our gains +were likely to be. We were too young and full of hope for fear or +regret, but not too young to look forward with eager enthusiasm to the +wonderful schoolless bookless American wilderness. Even the natural +heart-pain of parting from grandfather and grandmother Gilrye, who +loved us so well, and from mother and sisters and brother was quickly +quenched in young joy. Father took with him only my sister Sarah +(thirteen years of age), myself (eleven), and brother David (nine), +leaving my eldest sister, Margaret, and the three youngest of the +family, Daniel, Mary, and Anna, with mother, to join us after a farm +had been found in the wilderness and a comfortable house made to +receive them. + +In crossing the Atlantic before the days of steamships, or even the +American clippers, the voyages made in old-fashioned sailing-vessels +were very long. Ours was six weeks and three days. But because we had +no lessons to get, that long voyage had not a dull moment for us boys. +Father and sister Sarah, with most of the old folk, stayed below in +rough weather, groaning in the miseries of seasickness, many of the +passengers wishing they had never ventured in “the auld rockin’ creel,” +as they called our bluff-bowed, wave-beating ship, and, when the +weather was moderately calm, singing songs in the evenings,—“The +Youthful Sailor Frank and Bold,” “Oh, why left I my hame, why did I +cross the deep,” etc. But no matter how much the old tub tossed about +and battered the waves, we were on deck every day, not in the least +seasick, watching the sailors at their rope-hauling and climbing work; +joining in their songs, learning the names of the ropes and sails, and +helping them as far as they would let us; playing games with other boys +in calm weather when the deck was dry, and in stormy weather rejoicing +in sympathy with the big curly-topped waves. + +The captain occasionally called David and me into his cabin and asked +us about our schools, handed us books to read, and seemed surprised to +find that Scotch boys could read and pronounce English with perfect +accent and knew so much Latin and French. In Scotch schools only pure +English was taught, although not a word of English was spoken out of +school. All through life, however well educated, the Scotch spoke +Scotch among their own folk, except at times when unduly excited on the +only two subjects on which Scotchmen get much excited, namely religion +and politics. So long as the controversy went on with fairly level +temper, only gude braid Scots was used, but if one became angry, as was +likely to happen, then he immediately began speaking severely correct +English, while his antagonist, drawing himself up, would say: “Weel, +there’s na use pursuing this subject ony further, for I see ye hae +gotten to your English.” + +As we neared the shore of the great new land, with what eager wonder we +watched the whales and dolphins and porpoises and seabirds, and made +the good-natured sailors teach us their names and tell us stories about +them! + +There were quite a large number of emigrants aboard, many of them newly +married couples, and the advantages of the different parts of the New +World they expected to settle in were often discussed. My father +started with the intention of going to the backwoods of Upper Canada. +Before the end of the voyage, however, he was persuaded that the States +offered superior advantages, especially Wisconsin and Michigan, where +the land was said to be as good as in Canada and far more easily +brought under cultivation; for in Canada the woods were so close and +heavy that a man might wear out his life in getting a few acres cleared +of trees and stumps. So he changed his mind and concluded to go to one +of the Western States. + +On our wavering westward way a grain-dealer in Buffalo told father that +most of the wheat he handled came from Wisconsin; and this influential +information finally determined my father’s choice. At Milwaukee a +farmer who had come in from the country near Fort Winnebago with a load +of wheat agreed to haul us and our formidable load of stuff to a little +town called Kingston for thirty dollars. On that hundred-mile journey, +just after the spring thaw, the roads over the prairies were heavy and +miry, causing no end of lamentation, for we often got stuck in the mud, +and the poor farmer sadly declared that never, never again would he be +tempted to try to haul such a cruel, heart-breaking, wagon-breaking, +horse-killing load, no, not for a hundred dollars. In leaving Scotland, +father, like many other homeseekers, burdened himself with far too much +luggage, as if all America were still a wilderness in which little or +nothing could be bought. One of his big iron-bound boxes must have +weighed about four hundred pounds, for it contained an old-fashioned +beam-scales with a complete set of cast-iron counterweights, two of +them fifty-six pounds each, a twenty-eight, and so on down to a single +pound. Also a lot of iron wedges, carpenter’s tools, and so forth, and +at Buffalo, as if on the very edge of the wilderness, he gladly added +to his burden a big cast-iron stove with pots and pans, provisions +enough for a long siege, and a scythe and cumbersome cradle for cutting +wheat, all of which he succeeded in landing in the primeval Wisconsin +woods. + +A land-agent at Kingston gave father a note to a farmer by the name of +Alexander Gray, who lived on the border of the settled part of the +country, knew the section-lines, and would probably help him to find a +good place for a farm. So father went away to spy out the land, and in +the mean time left us children in Kingston in a rented room. It took us +less than an hour to get acquainted with some of the boys in the +village; we challenged them to wrestle, run races, climb trees, etc., +and in a day or two we felt at home, carefree and happy, +notwithstanding our family was so widely divided. When father returned +he told us that he had found fine land for a farm in sunny open woods +on the side of a lake, and that a team of three yoke of oxen with a big +wagon was coming to haul us to Mr. Gray’s place. + +We enjoyed the strange ten-mile ride through the woods very much, +wondering how the great oxen could be so strong and wise and tame as to +pull so heavy a load with no other harness than a chain and a crooked +piece of wood on their necks, and how they could sway so obediently to +right and left past roadside trees and stumps when the driver said +_haw_ and _gee_. At Mr. Gray’s house, father again left us for a few +days to build a shanty on the quarter-section he had selected four or +five miles to the westward. In the mean while we enjoyed our freedom as +usual, wandering in the fields and meadows, looking at the trees and +flowers, snakes and birds and squirrels. With the help of the nearest +neighbors the little shanty was built in less than a day after the +rough bur-oak logs for the walls and the white-oak boards for the floor +and roof were got together. + +To this charming hut, in the sunny woods, overlooking a flowery glacier +meadow and a lake rimmed with white water-lilies, we were hauled by an +ox-team across trackless carex swamps and low rolling hills sparsely +dotted with round-headed oaks. Just as we arrived at the shanty, before +we had time to look at it or the scenery about it, David and I jumped +down in a hurry off the load of household goods, for we had discovered +a blue jay’s nest, and in a minute or so we were up the tree beside it, +feasting our eyes on the beautiful green eggs and beautiful birds,—our +first memorable discovery. The handsome birds had not seen Scotch boys +before and made a desperate screaming as if we were robbers like +themselves; though we left the eggs untouched, feeling that we were +already beginning to get rich, and wondering how many more nests we +should find in the grand sunny woods. Then we ran along the brow of the +hill that the shanty stood on, and down to the meadow, searching the +trees and grass tufts and bushes, and soon discovered a bluebird’s and +a woodpecker’s nest, and began an acquaintance with the frogs and +snakes and turtles in the creeks and springs. + + +MUIR'S LAKE (FOUNTAIN LAKE) AND THE GARDEN MEADOW +MUIR’S LAKE (FOUNTAIN LAKE) AND THE GARDEN MEADOW +Sketched from the roof of the Bur-Oak ShantyToList + +This sudden plash into pure wildness—baptism in Nature’s warm heart—how +utterly happy it made us! Nature streaming into us, wooingly teaching +her wonderful glowing lessons, so unlike the dismal grammar ashes and +cinders so long thrashed into us. Here without knowing it we still were +at school; every wild lesson a love lesson, not whipped but charmed +into us. Oh, that glorious Wisconsin wilderness! Everything new and +pure in the very prime of the spring when Nature’s pulses were beating +highest and mysteriously keeping time with our own! Young hearts, young +leaves, flowers, animals, the winds and the streams and the sparkling +lake, all wildly, gladly rejoicing together! + +Next morning, when we climbed to the precious jay nest to take another +admiring look at the eggs, we found it empty. Not a shell-fragment was +left, and we wondered how in the world the birds were able to carry off +their thin-shelled eggs either in their bills or in their feet without +breaking them, and how they could be kept warm while a new nest was +being built. Well, I am still asking these questions. When I was on the +Harriman Expedition I asked Robert Ridgway, the eminent ornithologist, +how these sudden flittings were accomplished, and he frankly confessed +that he didn’t know, but guessed that jays and many other birds carried +their eggs in their mouths; and when I objected that a jay’s mouth +seemed too small to hold its eggs, he replied that birds’ mouths were +larger than the narrowness of their bills indicated. Then I asked him +what he thought they did with the eggs while a new nest was being +prepared. He didn’t know; neither do I to this day. A specimen of the +many puzzling problems presented to the naturalist. + +We soon found many more nests belonging to birds that were not half so +suspicious. The handsome and notorious blue jay plunders the nests of +other birds and of course he could not trust us. Almost all the +others—brown thrushes, bluebirds, song sparrows, kingbirds, hen-hawks, +nighthawks, whip-poor-wills, woodpeckers, etc.—simply tried to avoid +being seen, to draw or drive us away, or paid no attention to us. + +We used to wonder how the woodpeckers could bore holes so perfectly +round, true mathematical circles. We ourselves could not have done it +even with gouges and chisels. We loved to watch them feeding their +young, and wondered how they could glean food enough for so many +clamorous, hungry, unsatisfiable babies, and how they managed to give +each one its share; for after the young grew strong, one would get his +head out of the door-hole and try to hold possession of it to meet the +food-laden parents. How hard they worked to support their families, +especially the red-headed and speckledy woodpeckers and flickers; +digging, hammering on scaly bark and decaying trunks and branches from +dawn to dark, coming and going at intervals of a few minutes all the +livelong day! + +We discovered a hen-hawk’s nest on the top of a tall oak thirty or +forty rods from the shanty and approached it cautiously. One of the +pair always kept watch, soaring in wide circles high above the tree, +and when we attempted to climb it, the big dangerous-looking bird came +swooping down at us and drove us away. + +We greatly admired the plucky kingbird. In Scotland our great ambition +was to be good fighters, and we admired this quality in the handsome +little chattering flycatcher that whips all the other birds. He was +particularly angry when plundering jays and hawks came near his home, +and took pains to thrash them not only away from the nest-tree but out +of the neighborhood. The nest was usually built on a bur oak near a +meadow where insects were abundant, and where no undesirable visitor +could approach without being discovered. When a hen-hawk hove in sight, +the male immediately set off after him, and it was ridiculous to see +that great, strong bird hurrying away as fast as his clumsy wings would +carry him, as soon as he saw the little, waspish kingbird coming. But +the kingbird easily overtook him, flew just a few feet above him, and +with a lot of chattering, scolding notes kept diving and striking him +on the back of the head until tired; then he alighted to rest on the +hawk’s broad shoulders, still scolding and chattering as he rode along, +like an angry boy pouring out vials of wrath. Then, up and at him again +with his sharp bill; and after he had thus driven and ridden his big +enemy a mile or so from the nest, he went home to his mate, chuckling +and bragging as if trying to tell her what a wonderful fellow he was. + +This first spring, while some of the birds were still building their +nests and very few young ones had yet tried to fly, father hired a +Yankee to assist in clearing eight or ten acres of the best ground for +a field. We found new wonders every day and often had to call on this +Yankee to solve puzzling questions. We asked him one day if there was +any bird in America that the kingbird couldn’t whip. What about the +sandhill crane? Could he whip that long-legged, long-billed fellow? + +“A crane never goes near kingbirds’ nests or notices so small a bird,” +he said, “and therefore there could be no fighting between them.” So we +hastily concluded that our hero could whip every bird in the country +except perhaps the sandhill crane. + +We never tired listening to the wonderful whip-poor-will. One came +every night about dusk and sat on a log about twenty or thirty feet +from our cabin door and began shouting “Whip poor Will! Whip poor +Will!” with loud emphatic earnestness. “What’s that? What’s that?” we +cried when this startling visitor first announced himself. “What do you +call it?” + +“Why, it’s telling you its name,” said the Yankee. “Don’t you hear it +and what he wants you to do? He says his name is ‘Poor Will’ and he +wants you to whip him, and you may if you are able to catch him.” Poor +Will seemed the most wonderful of all the strange creatures we had +seen. What a wild, strong, bold voice he had, unlike any other we had +ever heard on sea or land! + +A near relative, the bull-bat, or nighthawk, seemed hardly less +wonderful. Towards evening scattered flocks kept the sky lively as they +circled around on their long wings a hundred feet or more above the +ground, hunting moths and beetles, interrupting their rather slow but +strong, regular wing-beats at short intervals with quick quivering +strokes while uttering keen, squeaky cries something like _pfee_, +_pfee_, and every now and then diving nearly to the ground with a loud +ripping, bellowing sound, like bull-roaring, suggesting its name; then +turning and gliding swiftly up again. These fine wild gray birds, about +the size of a pigeon, lay their two eggs on bare ground without +anything like a nest or even a concealing bush or grass-tuft. +Nevertheless they are not easily seen, for they are colored like the +ground. While sitting on their eggs, they depend so much upon not being +noticed that if you are walking rapidly ahead they allow you to step +within an inch or two of them without flinching. But if they see by +your looks that you have discovered them, they leave their eggs or +young, and, like a good many other birds, pretend that they are sorely +wounded, fluttering and rolling over on the ground and gasping as if +dying, to draw you away. When pursued we were surprised to find that +just when we were on the point of overtaking them they were always able +to flutter a few yards farther, until they had led us about a quarter +of a mile from the nest; then, suddenly getting well, they quietly flew +home by a roundabout way to their precious babies or eggs, o’er a’ the +ills of life victorious, bad boys among the worst. The Yankee took +particular pleasure in encouraging us to pursue them. + +Everything about us was so novel and wonderful that we could hardly +believe our senses except when hungry or while father was thrashing us. +When we first saw Fountain Lake Meadow, on a sultry evening, sprinkled +with millions of lightning-bugs throbbing with light, the effect was so +strange and beautiful that it seemed far too marvelous to be real. +Looking from our shanty on the hill, I thought that the whole wonderful +fairy show must be in my eyes; for only in fighting, when my eyes were +struck, had I ever seen anything in the least like it. But when I asked +my brother if he saw anything strange in the meadow he said, “Yes, it’s +all covered with shaky fire-sparks.” Then I guessed that it might be +something outside of us, and applied to our all-knowing Yankee to +explain it. “Oh, it’s nothing but lightnin’-bugs,” he said, and kindly +led us down the hill to the edge of the fiery meadow, caught a few of +the wonderful bugs, dropped them into a cup, and carried them to the +shanty, where we watched them throbbing and flashing out their +mysterious light at regular intervals, as if each little passionate +glow were caused by the beating of a heart. Once I saw a splendid +display of glow-worm light in the foothills of the Himalayas, north of +Calcutta, but glorious as it appeared in pure starry radiance, it was +far less impressive than the extravagant abounding, quivering, dancing +fire on our Wisconsin meadow. + +Partridge drumming was another great marvel. When I first heard the +low, soft, solemn sound I thought it must be made by some strange +disturbance in my head or stomach, but as all seemed serene within, I +asked David whether he heard anything queer. “Yes,” he said, “I hear +something saying _boomp_, _boomp_, _boomp_, and I’m wondering at it.” +Then I was half satisfied that the source of the mysterious sound must +be in something outside of us, coming perhaps from the ground or from +some ghost or bogie or woodland fairy. Only after long watching and +listening did we at last discover it in the wings of the plump brown +bird. + +The love-song of the common jack snipe seemed not a whit less +mysterious than partridge drumming. It was usually heard on cloudy +evenings, a strange, unearthly, winnowing, spiritlike sound, yet easily +heard at a distance of a third of a mile. Our sharp eyes soon detected +the bird while making it, as it circled high in the air over the meadow +with wonderfully strong and rapid wing-beats, suddenly descending and +rising, again and again, in deep, wide loops; the tones being very low +and smooth at the beginning of the descent, rapidly increasing to a +curious little whirling storm-roar at the bottom, and gradually fading +lower and lower until the top was reached. It was long, however, before +we identified this mysterious wing-singer as the little brown jack +snipe that we knew so well and had so often watched as he silently +probed the mud around the edges of our meadow stream and spring-holes, +and made short zigzag flights over the grass uttering only little +short, crisp quacks and chucks. + +The love-songs of the frogs seemed hardly less wonderful than those of +the birds, their musical notes varying from the sweet, tranquil, +soothing peeping and purring of the hylas to the awfully deep low-bass +blunt bellowing of the bullfrogs. Some of the smaller species have +wonderfully clear, sharp voices and told us their good Bible names in +musical tones about as plainly as the whip-poor-will. _Isaac, Isaac; +Yacob, Yacob; Israel, Israel_; shouted in sharp, ringing, far-reaching +tones, as if they had all been to school and severely drilled in +elocution. In the still, warm evenings, big bunchy bullfrogs bellowed, +_Drunk! Drunk! Drunk! Jug o’ rum! Jug o’ rum_! and early in the spring, +countless thousands of the commonest species, up to the throat in cold +water, sang in concert, making a mass of music, such as it was, loud +enough to be heard at a distance of more than half a mile. + +Far, far apart from this loud marsh music is that of the many species +of hyla, a sort of soothing immortal melody filling the air like light. + +We reveled in the glory of the sky scenery as well as that of the woods +and meadows and rushy, lily-bordered lakes. The great thunderstorms in +particular interested us, so unlike any seen in Scotland, exciting +awful, wondering admiration. Gazing awe-stricken, we watched the +upbuilding of the sublime cloud-mountains,—glowing, sun-beaten pearl +and alabaster cumuli, glorious in beauty and majesty and looking so +firm and lasting that birds, we thought, might build their nests amid +their downy bosses; the black-browed storm-clouds marching in awful +grandeur across the landscape, trailing broad gray sheets of hail and +rain like vast cataracts, and ever and anon flashing down vivid zigzag +lightning followed by terrible crashing thunder. We saw several trees +shattered, and one of them, a punky old oak, was set on fire, while we +wondered why all the trees and everybody and everything did not share +the same fate, for oftentimes the whole sky blazed. After sultry storm +days, many of the nights were darkened by smooth black apparently +structureless cloud-mantles which at short intervals were illumined +with startling suddenness to a fiery glow by quick, quivering +lightning-flashes, revealing the landscape in almost noonday +brightness, to be instantly quenched in solid blackness. + +But those first days and weeks of unmixed enjoyment and freedom, +reveling in the wonderful wildness about us, were soon to be mingled +with the hard work of making a farm. I was first put to burning brush +in clearing land for the plough. Those magnificent brush fires with +great white hearts and red flames, the first big, wild outdoor fires I +had ever seen, were wonderful sights for young eyes. Again and again, +when they were burning fiercest so that we could hardly approach near +enough to throw on another branch, father put them to awfully practical +use as warning lessons, comparing their heat with that of hell, and the +branches with bad boys. “Now, John,” he would say,—“now, John, just +think what an awful thing it would be to be thrown into that fire:—and +then think of hellfire, that is so many times hotter. Into that fire +all bad boys, with sinners of every sort who disobey God, will be cast +as we are casting branches into this brush fire, and although suffering +so much, their sufferings will never never end, because neither the +fire nor the sinners can die.” But those terrible fire lessons quickly +faded away in the blithe wilderness air; for no fire can be hotter than +the heavenly fire of faith and hope that burns in every healthy boy’s +heart. + +Soon after our arrival in the woods some one added a cat and puppy to +the animals father had bought. The cat soon had kittens, and it was +interesting to watch her feeding, protecting, and training them. After +they were able to leave their nest and play, she went out hunting and +brought in many kinds of birds and squirrels for them, mostly ground +squirrels (spermophiles), called “gophers” in Wisconsin. When she got +within a dozen yards or so of the shanty, she announced her approach by +a peculiar call, and the sleeping kittens immediately bounced up and +ran to meet her, all racing for the first bite of they knew not what, +and we too ran to see what she brought. She then lay down a few minutes +to rest and enjoy the enjoyment of her feasting family, and again +vanished in the grass and flowers, coming and going every half-hour or +so. Sometimes she brought in birds that we had never seen before, and +occasionally a flying squirrel, chipmunk, or big fox squirrel. We were +just old enough, David and I, to regard all these creatures as wonders, +the strange inhabitants of our new world. + +The pup was a common cur, though very uncommon to us, a black and white +short-haired mongrel that we named “Watch.” We always gave him a pan of +milk in the evening just before we knelt in family worship, while +daylight still lingered in the shanty. And, instead of attending to the +prayers, I too often studied the small wild creatures playing around +us. Field mice scampered about the cabin as though it had been built +for them alone, and their performances were very amusing. About dusk, +on one of the calm, sultry nights so grateful to moths and beetles, +when the puppy was lapping his milk, and we were on our knees, in +through the door came a heavy broad-shouldered beetle about as big as a +mouse, and after it had droned and boomed round the cabin two or three +times, the pan of milk, showing white in the gloaming, caught its eyes, +and, taking good aim, it alighted with a slanting, glinting plash in +the middle of the pan like a duck alighting in a lake. Baby Watch, +having never before seen anything like that beetle, started back, +gazing in dumb astonishment and fear at the black sprawling monster +trying to swim. Recovering somewhat from his fright, he began to bark +at the creature, and ran round and round his milk-pan, wouf-woufing, +gurring, growling, like an old dog barking at a wild-cat or a bear. The +natural astonishment and curiosity of that boy dog getting his first +entomological lesson in this wonderful world was so immoderately funny +that I had great difficulty in keeping from laughing out loud. + +Snapping turtles were common throughout the woods, and we were +delighted to find that they would snap at a stick and hang on like +bull-dogs; and we amused ourselves by introducing Watch to them, +enjoying his curious behavior and theirs in getting acquainted with +each other. One day we assisted one of the smallest of the turtles to +get a good grip of poor Watch’s ear. Then away he rushed, holding his +head sidewise, yelping and terror-stricken, with the strange buglike +reptile biting hard and clinging fast,—a shameful amusement even for +wild boys. + +As a playmate Watch was too serious, though he learned more than any +stranger would judge him capable of, was a bold, faithful watch-dog, +and in his prime a grand fighter, able to whip all the other dogs in +the neighborhood. Comparing him with ourselves, we soon learned that +although he could not read books he could read faces, was a good judge +of character, always knew what was going on and what we were about to +do, and liked to help us. We could run nearly as fast as he could, see +about as far, and perhaps hear as well, but in sense of smell his nose +was incomparably better than ours. One sharp winter morning when the +ground was covered with snow, I noticed that when he was yawning and +stretching himself after leaving his bed he suddenly caught the scent +of something that excited him, went round the corner of the house, and +looked intently to the westward across a tongue of land that we called +West Bank, eagerly questioning the air with quivering nostrils, and +bristling up as though he felt sure that there was something dangerous +in that direction and had actually caught sight of it. Then he ran +toward the Bank, and I followed him, curious to see what his nose had +discovered. The top of the Bank commanded a view of the north end of +our lake and meadow, and when we got there we saw an Indian hunter with +a long spear, going from one muskrat cabin to another, approaching +cautiously, careful to make no noise, and then suddenly thrusting his +spear down through the house. If well aimed, the spear went through the +poor beaver rat as it lay cuddled up in the snug nest it had made for +itself in the fall with so much far-seeing care, and when the hunter +felt the spear quivering, he dug down the mossy hut with his tomahawk +and secured his prey,—the flesh for food, and the skin to sell for a +dime or so. This was a clear object lesson on dogs’ keenness of scent. +That Indian was more than half a mile away across a wooded ridge. Had +the hunter been a white man, I suppose Watch would not have noticed +him. + +When he was about six or seven years old, he not only became cross, so +that he would do only what he liked, but he fell on evil ways, and was +accused by the neighbors who had settled around us of catching and +devouring whole broods of chickens, some of them only a day or two out +of the shell. We never imagined he would do anything so grossly +undoglike. He never did at home. But several of the neighbors declared +over and over again that they had caught him in the act, and insisted +that he must be shot. At last, in spite of tearful protests, he was +condemned and executed. Father examined the poor fellow’s stomach in +search of sure evidence, and discovered the heads of eight chickens +that he had devoured at his last meal. So poor Watch was killed simply +because his taste for chickens was too much like our own. Think of the +millions of squabs that preaching, praying men and women kill and eat, +with all sorts of other animals great and small, young and old, while +eloquently discoursing on the coming of the blessed peaceful, bloodless +millennium! Think of the passenger pigeons that fifty or sixty years +ago filled the woods and sky over half the continent, now exterminated +by beating down the young from the nests together with the brooding +parents, before they could try their wonderful wings; by trapping them +in nets, feeding them to hogs, etc. None of our fellow mortals is safe +who eats what we eat, who in any way interferes with our pleasures, or +who may be used for work or food, clothing or ornament, or mere cruel, +sportish amusement. Fortunately many are too small to be seen, and +therefore enjoy life beyond our reach. And in looking through God’s +great stone books made up of records reaching back millions and +millions of years, it is a great comfort to learn that vast multitudes +of creatures, great and small and infinite in number, lived and had a +good time in God’s love before man was created. + +The old Scotch fashion of whipping for every act of disobedience or of +simple, playful forgetfulness was still kept up in the wilderness, and +of course many of those whippings fell upon me. Most of them were +outrageously severe, and utterly barren of fun. But here is one that +was nearly all fun. + +Father was busy hauling lumber for the frame house that was to be got +ready for the arrival of my mother, sisters, and brother, left behind +in Scotland. One morning, when he was ready to start for another load, +his ox-whip was not to be found. He asked me if I knew anything about +it. I told him I didn’t know where it was, but Scotch conscience +compelled me to confess that when I was playing with it I had tied it +to Watch’s tail, and that he ran away, dragging it through the grass, +and came back without it. “It must have slipped off his tail,” I said, +and so I didn’t know where it was. This honest, straightforward little +story made father so angry that he exclaimed with heavy, foreboding +emphasis: “The very deevil’s in that boy!” David, who had been playing +with me and was perhaps about as responsible for the loss of the whip +as I was, said never a word, for he was always prudent enough to hold +his tongue when the parental weather was stormy, and so escaped nearly +all punishment. And, strange to say, this time I also escaped, all +except a terrible scolding, though the thrashing weather seemed darker +than ever. As if unwilling to let the sun see the shameful job, father +took me into the cabin where the storm was to fall, and sent David to +the woods for a switch. While he was out selecting the switch, father +put in the spare time sketching my play-wickedness in awful colors, and +of course referred again and again to the place prepared for bad boys. +In the midst of this terrible word-storm, dreading most the impending +thrashing, I whimpered that I was only playing because I couldn’t help +it; didn’t know I was doing wrong; wouldn’t do it again, and so forth. +After this miserable dialogue was about exhausted, father became +impatient at my brother for taking so long to find the switch; and so +was I, for I wanted to have the thing over and done with. At last, in +came David, a picture of open-hearted innocence, solemnly dragging a +young bur-oak sapling, and handed the end of it to father, saying it +was the best switch he could find. It was an awfully heavy one, about +two and a half inches thick at the butt and ten feet long, almost big +enough for a fence-pole. There wasn’t room enough in the cabin to swing +it, and the moment I saw it I burst out laughing in the midst of my +fears. But father failed to see the fun and was very angry at David, +heaved the bur-oak outside and passionately demanded his reason for +fetching “sic a muckle rail like that instead o’ a switch? Do ye ca’ +that a switch? I have a gude mind to thrash you insteed o’ John.” +David, with demure, downcast eyes, looked preternaturally righteous, +but as usual prudently answered never a word. + +It was a hard job in those days to bring up Scotch boys in the way they +should go; and poor overworked father was determined to do it if enough +of the right kind of switches could be found. But this time, as the sun +was getting high, he hitched up old Tom and Jerry and made haste to the +Kingston lumber-yard, leaving me unscathed and as innocently wicked as +ever; for hardly had father got fairly out of sight among the oaks and +hickories, ere all our troubles, hell-threatenings, and exhortations +were forgotten in the fun we had lassoing a stubborn old sow and +laboriously trying to teach her to go reasonably steady in rope +harness. She was the first hog that father bought to stock the farm, +and we boys regarded her as a very wonderful beast. In a few weeks she +had a lot of pigs, and of all the queer, funny, animal children we had +yet seen, none amused us more. They were so comic in size and shape, in +their gait and gestures, their merry sham fights, and the false alarms +they got up for the fun of scampering back to their mother and begging +her in most persuasive little squeals to lie down and give them a +drink. + +After her darling short-snouted babies were about a month old, she took +them out to the woods and gradually roamed farther and farther from the +shanty in search of acorns and roots. One afternoon we heard a +rifle-shot, a very noticeable thing, as we had no near neighbors, as +yet. We thought it must have been fired by an Indian on the trail that +followed the right bank of the Fox River between Portage and Packwaukee +Lake and passed our shanty at a distance of about three quarters of a +mile. Just a few minutes after that shot was heard, along came the poor +mother rushing up to the shanty for protection, with her pigs, all out +of breath and terror-stricken. One of them was missing, and we supposed +of course that an Indian had shot it for food. Next day, I discovered a +blood-puddle where the Indian trail crossed the outlet of our lake. One +of father’s hired men told us that the Indians thought nothing of +levying this sort of blackmail whenever they were hungry. The solemn +awe and fear in the eyes of that old mother and those little pigs I +never can forget; it was as unmistakable and deadly a fear as I ever +saw expressed by any human eye, and corroborates in no uncertain way +the oneness of all of us. + + + + +IIIToC + +LIFE ON A WISCONSIN FARM + +Humanity in Oxen—Jack, the Pony—Learning to Ride—Nob and +Nell—Snakes—Mosquitoes and their Kin—Fish and Fishing—Considering the +Lilies—Learning to Swim—A Narrow Escape from Drowning and a +Victory—Accidents to Animals. + + +Coming direct from school in Scotland while we were still hopefully +ignorant and far from tame,—notwithstanding the unnatural profusion of +teaching and thrashing lavished upon us,—getting acquainted with the +animals about us was a never-failing source of wonder and delight. At +first my father, like nearly all the backwoods settlers, bought a yoke +of oxen to do the farm work, and as field after field was cleared, the +number was gradually increased until we had five yoke. These wise, +patient, plodding animals did all the ploughing, logging, hauling, and +hard work of every sort for the first four or five years, and, never +having seen oxen before, we looked at them with the same eager +freshness of conception as we did at the wild animals. We worked with +them, sympathized with them in their rest and toil and play, and thus +learned to know them far better than we should had we been only trained +scientific naturalists. We soon learned that each ox and cow and calf +had individual character. Old white-faced Buck, one of the second yoke +of oxen we owned, was a notably sagacious fellow. He seemed to reason +sometimes almost like ourselves. In the fall we fed the cattle lots of +pumpkins and had to split them open so that mouthfuls could be readily +broken off. But Buck never waited for us to come to his help. The +others, when they were hungry and impatient, tried to break through the +hard rind with their teeth, but seldom with success if the pumpkin was +full grown. Buck never wasted time in this mumbling, slavering way, but +crushed them with his head. He went to the pile, picked out a good one, +like a boy choosing an orange or apple, rolled it down on to the open +ground, deliberately kneeled in front of it, placed his broad, flat +brow on top of it, brought his weight hard down and crushed it, then +quietly arose and went on with his meal in comfort. Some would call +this “instinct,” as if so-called “blind instinct” must necessarily make +an ox stand on its head to break pumpkins when its teeth got sore, or +when nobody came with an axe to split them. Another fine ox showed his +skill when hungry by opening all the fences that stood in his way to +the corn-fields. + +The humanity we found in them came partly through the expression of +their eyes when tired, their tones of voice when hungry and calling for +food, their patient plodding and pulling in hot weather, their +long-drawn-out sighing breath when exhausted and suffering like +ourselves, and their enjoyment of rest with the same grateful looks as +ours. We recognized their kinship also by their yawning like ourselves +when sleepy and evidently enjoying the same peculiar pleasure at the +roots of their jaws; by the way they stretched themselves in the +morning after a good rest; by learning languages,—Scotch, English, +Irish, French, Dutch,—a smattering of each as required in the faithful +service they so willingly, wisely rendered; by their intelligent, alert +curiosity, manifested in listening to strange sounds; their love of +play; the attachments they made; and their mourning, long continued, +when a companion was killed. + +When we went to Portage, our nearest town, about ten or twelve miles +from the farm, it would oftentimes be late before we got back, and in +the summer-time, in sultry, rainy weather, the clouds were full of +sheet lightning which every minute or two would suddenly illumine the +landscape, revealing all its features, the hills and valleys, meadows +and trees, about as fully and clearly as the noonday sunshine; then as +suddenly the glorious light would be quenched, making the darkness seem +denser than before. On such nights the cattle had to find the way home +without any help from us, but they never got off the track, for they +followed it by scent like dogs. Once, father, returning late from +Portage or Kingston, compelled Tom and Jerry, our first oxen, to leave +the dim track, imagining they must be going wrong. At last they stopped +and refused to go farther. Then father unhitched them from the wagon, +took hold of Tom’s tail, and was thus led straight to the shanty. Next +morning he set out to seek his wagon and found it on the brow of a +steep hill above an impassable swamp. We learned less from the cows, +because we did not enter so far into their lives, working with them, +suffering heat and cold, hunger and thirst, and almost deadly weariness +with them; but none with natural charity could fail to sympathize with +them in their love for their calves, and to feel that it in no way +differed from the divine mother-love of a woman in thoughtful, +self-sacrificing care; for they would brave every danger, giving their +lives for their offspring. Nor could we fail to sympathize with their +awkward, blunt-nosed baby calves, with such beautiful, wondering eyes +looking out on the world and slowly getting acquainted with things, all +so strange to them, and awkwardly learning to use their legs, and play +and fight. + +Before leaving Scotland, father promised us a pony to ride when we got +to America, and we saw to it that this promise was not forgotten. Only +a week or two after our arrival in the woods he bought us a little +Indian pony for thirteen dollars from a store-keeper in Kingston who +had obtained him from a Winnebago or Menominee Indian in trade for +goods. He was a stout handsome bay with long black mane and tail, and, +though he was only two years old, the Indians had already taught him to +carry all sorts of burdens, to stand without being tied, to go anywhere +over all sorts of ground fast or slow, and to jump and swim and fear +nothing,—a truly wonderful creature, strangely different from shy, +skittish, nervous, superstitious civilized beasts. We turned him loose, +and, strange to say, he never ran away from us or refused to be caught, +but behaved as if he had known Scotch boys all his life; probably +because we were about as wild as young Indians. + +One day when father happened to have a little leisure, he said, “Noo, +bairns, rin doon the meadow and get your powny and learn to ride him.” +So we led him out to a smooth place near an Indian mound back of the +shanty, where father directed us to begin. I mounted for the first +memorable lesson, crossed the mound, and set out at a slow walk along +the wagon-track made in hauling lumber; then father shouted: “Whup him +up, John, whup him up! Make him gallop; gallopin’ is easier and better +than walkin’ or trottin’.” Jack was willing, and away he sped at a good +fast gallop. I managed to keep my balance fairly well by holding fast +to the mane, but could not keep from bumping up and down, for I was +plump and elastic and so was Jack; therefore about half of the time I +was in the air. + +After a quarter of a mile or so of this curious transportation, I +cried, “Whoa, Jack!” The wonderful creature seemed to understand +Scotch, for he stopped so suddenly I flew over his head, but he stood +perfectly still as if that flying method of dismounting were the +regular way. Jumping on again, I bumped and bobbed back along the +grassy, flowery track, over the Indian mound, cried, “Whoa, Jack!” flew +over his head, and alighted in father’s arms as gracefully as if it +were all intended for circus work. + +After going over the course five or six times in the same free, +picturesque style, I gave place to brother David, whose performances +were much like my own. In a few weeks, however, or a month, we were +taking adventurous rides more than a mile long out to a big meadow +frequented by sandhill cranes, and returning safely with wonderful +stories of the great long-legged birds we had seen, and how on the +whole journey away and back we had fallen off only five or six times. +Gradually we learned to gallop through the woods without roads of any +sort, bareback and without rope or bridle, guiding only by leaning from +side to side or by slight knee pressure. In this free way we used to +amuse ourselves, riding at full speed across a big “kettle” that was on +our farm, without holding on by either mane or tail. + +These so-called “kettles” were formed by the melting of large detached +blocks of ice that had been buried in moraine material thousands of +years ago when the ice-sheet that covered all this region was receding. +As the buried ice melted, of course the moraine material above and +about it fell in, forming hopper-shaped hollows, while the grass +growing on their sides and around them prevented the rain and wind from +filling them up. The one we performed in was perhaps seventy or eighty +feet wide and twenty or thirty feet deep; and without a saddle or hold +of any kind it was not easy to keep from slipping over Jack’s head in +diving into it, or over his tail climbing out. This was fine sport on +the long summer Sundays when we were able to steal away before +meeting-time without being seen. We got very warm and red at it, and +oftentimes poor Jack, dripping with sweat like his riders, seemed to +have been boiled in that kettle. + +In Scotland we had often been admonished to be bold, and this advice we +passed on to Jack, who had already got many a wild lesson from Indian +boys. Once, when teaching him to jump muddy streams, I made him try the +creek in our meadow at a place where it is about twelve feet wide. He +jumped bravely enough, but came down with a grand splash hardly more +than halfway over. The water was only about a foot in depth, but the +black vegetable mud half afloat was unfathomable. I managed to wallow +ashore, but poor Jack sank deeper and deeper until only his head was +visible in the black abyss, and his Indian fortitude was desperately +tried. His foundering so suddenly in the treacherous gulf recalled the +story of the Abbot of Aberbrothok’s bell, which went down with a +gurgling sound while bubbles rose and burst around. I had to go to +father for help. He tied a long hemp rope brought from Scotland around +Jack’s neck, and Tom and Jerry seemed to have all they could do to pull +him out. After which I got a solemn scolding for asking the “puir beast +to jump intil sic a saft bottomless place.” + +We moved into our frame house in the fall, when mother with the rest of +the family arrived from Scotland, and, when the winter snow began to +fly, the bur-oak shanty was made into a stable for Jack. Father told us +that good meadow hay was all he required, but we fed him corn, lots of +it, and he grew very frisky and fat. About the middle of winter his +long hair was full of dust and, as we thought, required washing. So, +without taking the frosty weather into account, we gave him a thorough +soap and water scouring, and as we failed to get him rubbed dry, a row +of icicles formed under his belly. Father happened to see him in this +condition and angrily asked what we had been about. We said Jack was +dirty and we had washed him to make him healthy. He told us we ought to +be ashamed of ourselves, “soaking the puir beast in cauld water at this +time o’ year”; that when we wanted to clean him we should have sense +enough to use the brush and curry-comb. + + +OUR FIRST WISCONSIN HOME +OUR FIRST WISCONSIN HOME +On the hill near the shanty built in the summer of 1849ToList + +In summer Dave or I had to ride after the cows every evening about +sundown, and Jack got so accustomed to bringing in the drove that when +we happened to be a few minutes late he used to go off alone at the +regular time and bring them home at a gallop. It used to make father +very angry to see Jack chasing the cows like a shepherd dog, running +from one to the other and giving each a bite on the rump to keep them +on the run, flying before him as if pursued by wolves. Father would +declare at times that the wicked beast had the deevil in him and would +be the death of the cattle. The corral and barn were just at the foot +of a hill, and he made a great display of the drove on the home stretch +as they walloped down that hill with their tails on end. + +One evening when the pell-mell Wild West show was at its wildest, it +made father so extravagantly mad that he ordered me to “Shoot Jack!” I +went to the house and brought the gun, suffering most horrible mental +anguish, such as I suppose unhappy Abraham felt when commanded to slay +Isaac. Jack’s life was spared, however, though I can’t tell what +finally became of him. I wish I could. After father bought a span of +work horses he was sold to a man who said he was going to ride him +across the plains to California. We had him, I think, some five or six +years. He was the stoutest, gentlest, bravest little horse I ever saw. +He never seemed tired, could canter all day with a man about as heavy +as himself on his back, and feared nothing. Once fifty or sixty pounds +of beef that was tied on his back slid over his shoulders along his +neck and weighed down his head to the ground, fairly anchoring him; but +he stood patient and still for half an hour or so without making the +slightest struggle to free himself, while I was away getting help to +untie the pack-rope and set the load back in its place. + +As I was the eldest boy I had the care of our first span of work +horses. Their names were Nob and Nell. Nob was very intelligent, and +even affectionate, and could learn almost anything. Nell was entirely +different; balky and stubborn, though we managed to teach her a good +many circus tricks; but she never seemed to like to play with us in +anything like an affectionate way as Nob did. We turned them out one +day into the pasture, and an Indian, hiding in the brush that had +sprung up after the grass fires had been kept out, managed to catch +Nob, tied a rope to her jaw for a bridle, rode her to Green Lake, about +thirty or forty miles away, and tried to sell her for fifteen dollars. +All our hearts were sore, as if one of the family had been lost. We +hunted everywhere and could not at first imagine what had become of +her. We discovered her track where the fence was broken down, and, +following it for a few miles, made sure the track was Nob’s; and a +neighbor told us he had seen an Indian riding fast through the woods on +a horse that looked like Nob. But we could find no farther trace of her +until a month or two after she was lost, and we had given up hope of +ever seeing her again. Then we learned that she had been taken from an +Indian by a farmer at Green Lake because he saw that she had been shod +and had worked in harness. So when the Indian tried to sell her the +farmer said: “You are a thief. That is a white man’s horse. You stole +her.” + +“No,” said the Indian, “I brought her from Prairie du Chien and she has +always been mine.” + +The man, pointing to her feet and the marks of the harness, said: “You +are lying. I will take that horse away from you and put her in my +pasture, and if you come near it I will set the dogs on you.” Then he +advertised her. One of our neighbors happened to see the advertisement +and brought us the glad news, and great was our rejoicing when father +brought her home. That Indian must have treated her with terrible +cruelty, for when I was riding her through the pasture several years +afterward, looking for another horse that we wanted to catch, as we +approached the place where she had been captured she stood stock still +gazing through the bushes, fearing the Indian might still be hiding +there ready to spring; and she was so excited that she trembled, and +her heartbeats were so loud that I could hear them distinctly as I sat +on her back, _boomp_, _boomp_, _boomp_, like the drumming of a +partridge. So vividly had she remembered her terrible experiences. + +She was a great pet and favorite with the whole family, quickly learned +playful tricks, came running when we called, seemed to know everything +we said to her, and had the utmost confidence in our friendly kindness. + +We used to cut and shock and husk the Indian corn in the fall, until a +keen Yankee stopped overnight at our house and among other labor-saving +notions convinced father that it was better to let it stand, and husk +it at his leisure during the winter, then turn in the cattle to eat the +leaves and trample down the stalks, so that they could be ploughed +under in the spring. In this winter method each of us took two rows and +husked into baskets, and emptied the corn on the ground in piles of +fifteen to twenty basketfuls, then loaded it into the wagon to be +hauled to the crib. This was cold, painful work, the temperature being +oftentimes far below zero and the ground covered with dry, frosty snow, +giving rise to miserable crops of chilblains and frosted fingers,—a sad +change from the merry Indian-summer husking, when the big yellow +pumpkins covered the cleared fields;—golden corn, golden pumpkins, +gathered in the hazy golden weather. Sad change, indeed, but we +occasionally got some fun out of the nipping, shivery work from hungry +prairie chickens, and squirrels and mice that came about us. + +The piles of corn were often left in the field several days, and while +loading them into the wagon we usually found field mice in them,—big, +blunt-nosed, strong-scented fellows that we were taught to kill just +because they nibbled a few grains of corn. I used to hold one while it +was still warm, up to Nob’s nose for the fun of seeing her make faces +and snort at the smell of it; and I would say: “Here, Nob,” as if +offering her a lump of sugar. One day I offered her an extra fine, fat, +plump specimen, something like a little woodchuck, or muskrat, and to +my astonishment, after smelling it curiously and doubtfully, as if +wondering what the gift might be, and rubbing it back and forth in the +palm of my hand with her upper lip, she deliberately took it into her +mouth, crunched and munched and chewed it fine and swallowed it, bones, +teeth, head, tail, everything. Not a single hair of that mouse was +wasted. When she was chewing it she nodded and grunted, as though +critically tasting and relishing it. + +My father was a steadfast enthusiast on religious matters, and, of +course, attended almost every sort of church-meeting, especially +revival meetings. They were occasionally held in summer, but mostly in +winter when the sleighing was good and plenty of time available. One +hot summer day father drove Nob to Portage and back, twenty-four miles +over a sandy road. It was a hot, hard, sultry day’s work, and she had +evidently been over-driven in order to get home in time for one of +these meetings. I shall never forget how tired and wilted she looked +that evening when I unhitched her; how she drooped in her stall, too +tired to eat or even to lie down. Next morning it was plain that her +lungs were inflamed; all the dreadful symptoms were just the same as my +own when I had pneumonia. Father sent for a Methodist minister, a very +energetic, resourceful man, who was a blacksmith, farmer, butcher, and +horse-doctor as well as minister; but all his gifts and skill were of +no avail. Nob was doomed. We bathed her head and tried to get her to +eat something, but she couldn’t eat, and in about a couple of weeks we +turned her loose to let her come around the house and see us in the +weary suffering and loneliness of the shadow of death. She tried to +follow us children, so long her friends and workmates and playmates. It +was awfully touching. She had several hemorrhages, and in the forenoon +of her last day, after she had had one of her dreadful spells of +bleeding and gasping for breath, she came to me trembling, with +beseeching, heartbreaking looks, and after I had bathed her head and +tried to soothe and pet her, she lay down and gasped and died. All the +family gathered about her, weeping, with aching hearts. Then dust to +dust. + +She was the most faithful, intelligent, playful, affectionate, +human-like horse I ever knew, and she won all our hearts. Of the many +advantages of farm life for boys one of the greatest is the gaining a +real knowledge of animals as fellow-mortals, learning to respect them +and love them, and even to win some of their love. Thus godlike +sympathy grows and thrives and spreads far beyond the teachings of +churches and schools, where too often the mean, blinding, loveless +doctrine is taught that animals have neither mind nor soul, have no +rights that we are bound to respect, and were made only for man, to be +petted, spoiled, slaughtered, or enslaved. + +At first we were afraid of snakes, but soon learned that most of them +were harmless. The only venomous species seen on our farm were the +rattlesnake and the copperhead, one of each. David saw the rattler, and +we both saw the copperhead. One day, when my brother came in from his +work, he reported that he had seen a snake that made a queer buzzy +noise with its tail. This was the only rattlesnake seen on our farm, +though we heard of them being common on limestone hills eight or ten +miles distant. We discovered the copperhead when we were ploughing, and +we saw and felt at the first long, fixed, half-charmed, admiring stare +at him that he was an awfully dangerous fellow. Every fibre of his +strong, lithe, quivering body, his burnished copper-colored head, and +above all his fierce, able eyes, seemed to be overflowing full of +deadly power, and bade us beware. And yet it is only fair to say that +this terrible, beautiful reptile showed no disposition to hurt us until +we threw clods at him and tried to head him off from a log fence into +which he was trying to escape. We were barefooted and of course afraid +to let him get very near, while we vainly battered him with the loose +sandy clods of the freshly ploughed field to hold him back until we +could get a stick. Looking us in the eyes after a moment’s pause, he +probably saw we were afraid, and he came right straight at us, snapping +and looking terrible, drove us out of his way, and won his fight. + +Out on the open sandy hills there were a good many thick burly blow +snakes, the kind that puff themselves up and hiss. Our Yankee declared +that their breath was very poisonous and that we must not go near them. +A handsome ringed species common in damp, shady places was, he told us, +the most wonderful of all the snakes, for if chopped into pieces, +however small, the fragments would wriggle themselves together again, +and the restored snake would go on about its business as if nothing had +happened. The commonest kinds were the striped slender species of the +meadows and streams, good swimmers, that lived mostly on frogs. + +Once I observed one of the larger ones, about two feet long, pursuing a +frog in our meadow, and it was wonderful to see how fast the legless, +footless, wingless, finless hunter could run. The frog, of course, knew +its enemy and was making desperate efforts to escape to the water and +hide in the marsh mud. He was a fine, sleek yellow muscular fellow and +was springing over the tall grass in wide-arching jumps. The +green-striped snake, gliding swiftly and steadily, was keeping the frog +in sight and, had I not interfered, would probably have tired out the +poor jumper. Then, perhaps, while digesting and enjoying his meal, the +happy snake would himself be swallowed frog and all by a hawk. Again, +to our astonishment, the small specimens were attacked by our hens. +They pursued and pecked away at them until they killed and devoured +them, oftentimes quarreling over the division of the spoil, though it +was not easily divided. + +We watched the habits of the swift-darting dragonflies, wild bees, +butterflies, wasps, beetles, etc., and soon learned to discriminate +between those that might be safely handled and the pinching or stinging +species. But of all our wild neighbors the mosquitoes were the first +with which we became very intimately acquainted. + +The beautiful meadow lying warm in the spring sunshine, outspread +between our lily-rimmed lake and the hill-slope that our shanty stood +on, sent forth thirsty swarms of the little gray, speckledy, singing, +stinging pests; and how tellingly they introduced themselves! Of little +avail were the smudges that we made on muggy evenings to drive them +away; and amid the many lessons which they insisted upon teaching us we +wondered more and more at the extent of their knowledge, especially +that in their tiny, flimsy bodies room could be found for such cunning +palates. They would drink their fill from brown, smoky Indians, or from +old white folk flavored with tobacco and whiskey, when no better could +be had. But the surpassing fineness of their taste was best manifested +by their enthusiastic appreciation of boys full of lively red blood, +and of girls in full bloom fresh from cool Scotland or England. On +these it was pleasant to witness their enjoyment as they feasted. +Indians, we were told, believed that if they were brave fighters they +would go after death to a happy country abounding in game, where there +were no mosquitoes and no cowards. For cowards were driven away by +themselves to a miserable country where there was no game fit to eat, +and where the sky was always dark with huge gnats and mosquitoes as big +as pigeons. + +We were great admirers of the little black water-bugs. Their whole +lives seemed to be play, skimming, swimming, swirling, and waltzing +together in little groups on the edge of the lake and in the meadow +springs, dancing to music we never could hear. The long-legged skaters, +too, seemed wonderful fellows, shuffling about on top of the water, +with air-bubbles like little bladders tangled under their hairy feet; +and we often wished that we also might be shod in the same way to +enable us to skate on the lake in summer as well as in icy winter. Not +less wonderful were the boatmen, swimming on their backs, pulling +themselves along with a pair of oar-like legs. + +Great was the delight of brothers David and Daniel and myself when +father gave us a few pine boards for a boat, and it was a memorable day +when we got that boat built and launched into the lake. Never shall I +forget our first sail over the gradually deepening water, the sunbeams +pouring through it revealing the strange plants covering the bottom, +and the fishes coming about us, staring and wondering as if the boat +were a monstrous strange fish. + +The water was so clear that it was almost invisible, and when we +floated slowly out over the plants and fishes, we seemed to be +miraculously sustained in the air while silently exploring a veritable +fairyland. + +We always had to work hard, but if we worked still harder we were +occasionally allowed a little spell in the long summer evenings about +sundown to fish, and on Sundays an hour or two to sail quietly without +fishing-rod or gun when the lake was calm. Therefore we gradually +learned something about its inhabitants,—pickerel, sunfish, black bass, +perch, shiners, pumpkin-seeds, ducks, loons, turtles, muskrats, etc. We +saw the sunfishes making their nests in little openings in the rushes +where the water was only a few feet deep, ploughing up and shoving away +the soft gray mud with their noses, like pigs, forming round bowls five +or six inches in depth and about two feet in diameter, in which their +eggs were deposited. And with what beautiful, unweariable devotion they +watched and hovered over them and chased away prowling spawn-eating +enemies that ventured within a rod or two of the precious nest! + +The pickerel is a savage fish endowed with marvelous strength and +speed. It lies in wait for its prey on the bottom, perfectly motionless +like a waterlogged stick, watching everything that moves, with fierce, +hungry eyes. Oftentimes when we were fishing for some other kinds over +the edge of the boat, a pickerel that we had not noticed would come +like a bolt of lightning and seize the fish we had caught before we +could get it into the boat. The very first pickerel that I ever caught +jumped into the air to seize a small fish dangling on my line, and, +missing its aim, fell plump into the boat as if it had dropped from the +sky. + +Some of our neighbors fished for pickerel through the ice in midwinter. +They usually drove a wagon out on the lake, set a large number of lines +baited with live minnows, hung a loop of the lines over a small bush +planted at the side of each hole, and watched to see the loops pulled +off when a fish had taken the bait. Large quantities of pickerel were +often caught in this cruel way. + +Our beautiful lake, named Fountain Lake by father, but Muir’s Lake by +the neighbors, is one of the many small glacier lakes that adorn the +Wisconsin landscapes. It is fed by twenty or thirty meadow springs, is +about half a mile long, half as wide, and surrounded by low +finely-modeled hills dotted with oak and hickory, and meadows full of +grasses and sedges and many beautiful orchids and ferns. First there is +a zone of green, shining rushes, and just beyond the rushes a zone of +white and orange water-lilies fifty or sixty feet wide forming a +magnificent border. On bright days, when the lake was rippled by a +breeze, the lilies and sun-spangles danced together in radiant beauty, +and it became difficult to discriminate between them. + +On Sundays, after or before chores and sermons and Bible-lessons, we +drifted about on the lake for hours, especially in lily time, getting +finest lessons and sermons from the water and flowers, ducks, fishes, +and muskrats. In particular we took Christ’s advice and devoutly +“considered the lilies”—how they grow up in beauty out of gray lime +mud, and ride gloriously among the breezy sun-spangles. On our way home +we gathered grand bouquets of them to be kept fresh all the week. No +flower was hailed with greater wonder and admiration by the European +settlers in general—Scotch, English, and Irish—than this white +water-lily (_Nymphæa odorata_). It is a magnificent plant, queen of the +inland waters, pure white, three or four inches in diameter, the most +beautiful, sumptuous, and deliciously fragrant of all our Wisconsin +flowers. No lily garden in civilization we had ever seen could compare +with our lake garden. + +The next most admirable flower in the estimation of settlers in this +part of the new world was the pasque-flower or wind-flower (_Anemone +patens_ var. _Nuttalliana_). It is the very first to appear in the +spring, covering the cold gray-black ground with cheery blossoms. +Before the axe or plough had touched the “oak openings” of Wisconsin, +they were swept by running fires almost every autumn after the grass +became dry. If from any cause, such as early snowstorms or late rains, +they happened to escape the autumn fire besom, they were likely to be +burned in the spring after the snow melted. But whether burned in the +spring or fall, ashes and bits of charred twigs and grass stems made +the whole country look dismal. Then, before a single grass-blade had +sprouted, a hopeful multitude of large hairy, silky buds about as thick +as one’s thumb came to light, pushing up through the black and gray +ashes and cinders, and before these buds were fairly free from the +ground they opened wide and displayed purple blossoms about two inches +in diameter, giving beauty for ashes in glorious abundance. Instead of +remaining in the ground waiting for warm weather and companions, this +admirable plant seemed to be in haste to rise and cheer the desolate +landscape. Then at its leisure, after other plants had come to its +help, it spread its leaves and grew up to a height of about two or +three feet. The spreading leaves formed a whorl on the ground, and +another about the middle of the stem as an involucre, and on the top of +the stem the silky, hairy long-tailed seeds formed a head like a second +flower. A little church was established among the earlier settlers and +the meetings at first were held in our house. After working hard all +the week it was difficult for boys to sit still through long sermons +without falling asleep, especially in warm weather. In this drowsy +trouble the charming anemone came to our help. A pocketful of the +pungent seeds industriously nibbled while the discourses were at their +dullest kept us awake and filled our minds with flowers. + +The next great flower wonders on which we lavished admiration, not only +for beauty of color and size, but for their curious shapes, were the +cypripediums, called “lady’s-slippers” or “Indian moccasins.” They were +so different from the familiar flowers of old Scotland. Several species +grew in our meadow and on shady hillsides,—yellow, rose-colored, and +some nearly white, an inch or more in diameter, and shaped exactly like +Indian moccasins. They caught the eye of all the European settlers and +made them gaze and wonder like children. And so did calopogon, pogonia, +spiranthes, and many other fine plant people that lived in our meadow. +The beautiful Turk’s-turban (_Lilium superbum_) growing on stream-banks +was rare in our neighborhood, but the orange lily grew in abundance on +dry ground beneath the bur-oaks and often brought Aunt Ray’s lily-bed +in Scotland to mind. The butterfly-weed, with its brilliant scarlet +flowers, attracted flocks of butterflies and made fine masses of color. +With autumn came a glorious abundance and variety of asters, those +beautiful plant stars, together with goldenrods, sunflowers, daisies, +and liatris of different species, while around the shady margin of the +meadow many ferns in beds and vaselike groups spread their beautiful +fronds, especially the osmundas (_O. claytoniana, regalis_, and +_cinnamomea_) and the sensitive and ostrich ferns. + +Early in summer we feasted on strawberries, that grew in rich beds +beneath the meadow grasses and sedges as well as in the dry sunny +woods. And in different bogs and marshes, and around their borders on +our own farm and along the Fox River, we found dewberries and +cranberries, and a glorious profusion of huckleberries, the +fountain-heads of pies of wondrous taste and size, colored in the heart +like sunsets. Nor were we slow to discover the value of the hickory +trees yielding both sugar and nuts. We carefully counted the different +kinds on our farm, and every morning when we could steal a few minutes +before breakfast after doing the chores, we visited the trees that had +been wounded by the axe, to scrape off and enjoy the thick white +delicious syrup that exuded from them, and gathered the nuts as they +fell in the mellow Indian summer, making haste to get a fair share with +the sapsuckers and squirrels. The hickory makes fine masses of color in +the fall, every leaf a flower, but it was the sweet sap and sweet nuts +that first interested us. No harvest in the Wisconsin woods was ever +gathered with more pleasure and care. Also, to our delight, we found +plenty of hazelnuts, and in a few places abundance of wild apples. They +were desperately sour, and we used to fill our pockets with them and +dare each other to eat one without making a face,—no easy feat. + +One hot summer day father told us that we ought to learn to swim. This +was one of the most interesting suggestions he had ever offered, but +precious little time was allowed for trips to the lake, and he seldom +tried to show us how. “Go to the frogs,” he said, “and they will give +you all the lessons you need. Watch their arms and legs and see how +smoothly they kick themselves along and dive and come up. When you want +to dive, keep your arms by your side or over your head, and kick, and +when you want to come up, let your legs drag and paddle with your +hands.” + +We found a little basin among the rushes at the south end of the lake, +about waist-deep and a rod or two wide, shaped like a sunfish’s nest. +Here we kicked and plashed for many a lesson, faithfully trying to +imitate frogs; but the smooth, comfortable sliding gait of our +amphibious teachers seemed hopelessly hard to learn. When we tried to +kick frog-fashion, down went our heads as if weighted with lead the +moment our feet left the ground. One day it occurred to me to hold my +breath as long as I could and let my head sink as far as it liked +without paying any attention to it, and try to swim under the water +instead of on the surface. This method was a great success, for at the +very first trial I managed to cross the basin without touching bottom, +and soon learned the use of my limbs. Then, of course, swimming with my +head above water soon became so easy that it seemed perfectly natural. +David tried the plan with the same success. Then we began to count the +number of times that we could swim around the basin without stopping to +rest, and after twenty or thirty rounds failed to tire us, we proudly +thought that a little more practice would make us about as amphibious +as frogs. + +On the fourth of July of this swimming year one of the Lawson boys came +to visit us, and we went down to the lake to spend the great warm day +with the fishes and ducks and turtles. After gliding about on the +smooth mirror water, telling stories and enjoying the company of the +happy creatures about us, we rowed to our bathing-pool, and David and I +went in for a swim, while our companion fished from the boat a little +way out beyond the rushes. After a few turns in the pool, it occurred +to me that it was now about time to try deep water. Swimming through +the thick growth of rushes and lilies was somewhat dangerous, +especially for a beginner, because one’s arms and legs might be +entangled among the long, limber stems; nevertheless I ventured and +struck out boldly enough for the boat, where the water was twenty or +thirty feet deep. When I reached the end of the little skiff I raised +my right hand to take hold of it to surprise Lawson, whose back was +toward me and who was not aware of my approach; but I failed to reach +high enough, and, of course, the weight of my arm and the stroke +against the overleaning stern of the boat shoved me down and I sank, +struggling, frightened and confused. As soon as my feet touched the +bottom, I slowly rose to the surface, but before I could get breath +enough to call for help, sank back again and lost all control of +myself. After sinking and rising I don’t know how many times, some +water got into my lungs and I began to drown. Then suddenly my mind +seemed to clear. I remembered that I could swim under water, and, +making a desperate struggle toward the shore, I reached a point where +with my toes on the bottom I got my mouth above the surface, gasped for +help, and was pulled into the boat. + +This humiliating accident spoiled the day, and we all agreed to keep it +a profound secret. My sister Sarah had heard my cry for help, and on +our arrival at the house inquired what had happened. “Were you +drowning, John? I heard you cry you couldna get oot.” Lawson made haste +to reply, “Oh, no! He was juist haverin (making fun).” + +I was very much ashamed of myself, and at night, after calmly reviewing +the affair, concluded that there had been no reasonable cause for the +accident, and that I ought to punish myself for so nearly losing my +life from unmanly fear. Accordingly at the very first opportunity, I +stole away to the lake by myself, got into my boat, and instead of +going back to the old swimming-bowl for further practice, or to try to +do sanely and well what I had so ignominiously failed to do in my first +adventure, that is, to swim out through the rushes and lilies, I rowed +directly out to the middle of the lake, stripped, stood up on the seat +in the stern, and with grim deliberation took a header and dove +straight down thirty or forty feet, turned easily, and, letting my feet +drag, paddled straight to the surface with my hands as father had at +first directed me to do. I then swam round the boat, glorying in my +suddenly acquired confidence and victory over myself, climbed into it, +and dived again, with the same triumphant success. I think I went down +four or five times, and each time as I made the dive-spring shouted +aloud, “Take that!” feeling that I was getting most gloriously even +with myself. + +Never again from that day to this have I lost control of myself in +water. If suddenly thrown overboard at sea in the dark, or even while +asleep, I think I would immediately right myself in a way some would +call “instinct,” rise among the waves, catch my breath, and try to plan +what would better be done. Never was victory over self more complete. I +have been a good swimmer ever since. At a slow gait I think I could +swim all day in smooth water moderate in temperature. When I was a +student at Madison, I used to go on long swimming-journeys, called +exploring expeditions, along the south shore of Lake Mendota, on +Saturdays, sometimes alone, sometimes with another amphibious explorer +by the name of Fuller. + +My adventures in Fountain Lake call to mind the story of a boy who in +climbing a tree to rob a crow’s nest fell and broke his leg, but as +soon as it healed compelled himself to climb to the top of the tree he +had fallen from. + +Like Scotch children in general we were taught grim self-denial, in +season and out of season, to mortify the flesh, keep our bodies in +subjection to Bible laws, and mercilessly punish ourselves for every +fault imagined or committed. A little boy, while helping his sister to +drive home the cows, happened to use a forbidden word. “I’ll have to +tell fayther on ye,” said the horrified sister. “I’ll tell him that ye +said a bad word.” “Weel,” said the boy, by way of excuse, “I couldna +help the word comin’ into me, and it’s na waur to speak it oot than to +let it rin through ye.” + +A Scotch fiddler playing at a wedding drank so much whiskey that on the +way home he fell by the roadside. In the morning he was ashamed and +angry and determined to punish himself. Making haste to the house of a +friend, a gamekeeper, he called him out, and requested the loan of a +gun. The alarmed gamekeeper, not liking the fiddler’s looks and voice, +anxiously inquired what he was going to do with it. “Surely,” said he, +“you’re no gan to shoot yoursel.” “No-o,” with characteristic candor +replied the penitent fiddler, “I dinna think that I’ll juist exactly +kill mysel, but I’m gaun to tak a dander doon the burn (brook) wi’ the +gun and gie mysel a deevil o’ a fleg (fright).” + +One calm summer evening a red-headed woodpecker was drowned in our +lake. The accident happened at the south end, opposite our memorable +swimming-hole, a few rods from the place where I came so near being +drowned years before. I had returned to the old home during a summer +vacation of the State University, and, having made a beginning in +botany, I was, of course, full of enthusiasm and ran eagerly to my +beloved pogonia, calopogon, and cypripedium gardens, osmunda ferneries, +and the lake lilies and pitcher-plants. A little before sundown the +day-breeze died away, and the lake, reflecting the wooded hills like a +mirror, was dimpled and dotted and streaked here and there where fishes +and turtles were poking out their heads and muskrats were sculling +themselves along with their flat tails making glittering tracks. After +lingering a while, dreamily recalling the old, hard, half-happy days, +and watching my favorite red-headed woodpeckers pursuing moths like +regular flycatchers, I swam out through the rushes and up the middle of +the lake to the north end and back, gliding slowly, looking about me, +enjoying the scenery as I would in a saunter along the shore, and +studying the habits of the animals as they were explained and recorded +on the smooth glassy water. + + +CLOCK. THE STAR HAND RISING AND SETTING WITH THE SUN ALL THE YEAR +CLOCK. THE STAR HAND RISING AND SETTING WITH THE SUN ALL THE YEAR +Invented by the author in his boyhoodToList + +On the way back, when I was within a hundred rods or so of the end of +my voyage, I noticed a peculiar plashing disturbance that could not, I +thought, be made by a jumping fish or any other inhabitant of the lake; +for instead of low regular out-circling ripples such as are made by the +popping up of a head, or like those raised by the quick splash of a +leaping fish, or diving loon or muskrat, a continuous struggle was kept +up for several minutes ere the outspreading, interfering ring-waves +began to die away. Swimming hastily to the spot to try to discover what +had happened, I found one of my woodpeckers floating motionless with +outspread wings. All was over. Had I been a minute or two earlier, I +might have saved him. He had glanced on the water I suppose in pursuit +of a moth, was unable to rise from it, and died struggling, as I nearly +did at this same spot. Like me he seemed to have lost his mind in blind +confusion and fear. The water was warm, and had he kept still with his +head a little above the surface, he would sooner or later have been +wafted ashore. The best aimed flights of birds and man “gang aft +agley,” but this was the first case I had witnessed of a bird losing +its life by drowning. + +Doubtless accidents to animals are far more common than is generally +known. I have seen quails killed by flying against our house when +suddenly startled. Some birds get entangled in hairs of their own nests +and die. Once I found a poor snipe in our meadow that was unable to fly +on account of difficult egg-birth. Pitying the poor mother, I picked +her up out of the grass and helped her as gently as I could, and as +soon as the egg was born she flew gladly away. Oftentimes I have +thought it strange that one could walk through the woods and mountains +and plains for years without seeing a single blood-spot. Most wild +animals get into the world and out of it without being noticed. +Nevertheless we at last sadly learn that they are all subject to the +vicissitudes of fortune like ourselves. Many birds lose their lives in +storms. I remember a particularly severe Wisconsin winter, when the +temperature was many degrees below zero and the snow was deep, +preventing the quail, which feed on the ground, from getting anything +like enough of food, as was pitifully shown by a flock I found on our +farm frozen solid in a thicket of oak sprouts. They were in a circle +about a foot wide, with their heads outward, packed close together for +warmth. Yet all had died without a struggle, perhaps more from +starvation than frost. Many small birds lose their lives in the storms +of early spring, or even summer. One mild spring morning I picked up +more than a score out of the grass and flowers, most of them darling +singers that had perished in a sudden storm of sleety rain and hail. + +In a hollow at the foot of an oak tree that I had chopped down one cold +winter day, I found a poor ground squirrel frozen solid in its snug +grassy nest, in the middle of a store of nearly a peck of wheat it had +carefully gathered. I carried it home and gradually thawed and warmed +it in the kitchen, hoping it would come to life like a pickerel I +caught in our lake through a hole in the ice, which, after being frozen +as hard as a bone and thawed at the fireside, squirmed itself out of +the grasp of the cook when she began to scrape it, bounced off the +table, and danced about on the floor, making wonderful springy jumps as +if trying to find its way back home to the lake. But for the poor +spermophile nothing I could do in the way of revival was of any avail. +Its life had passed away without the slightest struggle, as it lay +asleep curled up like a ball, with its tail wrapped about it. + + + + +IVToC + +A PARADISE OF BIRDS + +Bird Favorites—The Prairie Chickens—Water-Fowl—A Loon on the +Defensive—Passenger Pigeons. + + +The Wisconsin oak openings were a summer paradise for song birds, and a +fine place to get acquainted with them; for the trees stood wide apart, +allowing one to see the happy homeseekers as they arrived in the +spring, their mating, nest-building, the brooding and feeding of the +young, and, after they were full-fledged and strong, to see all the +families of the neighborhood gathering and getting ready to leave in +the fall. Excepting the geese and ducks and pigeons nearly all our +summer birds arrived singly or in small draggled flocks, but when frost +and falling leaves brought their winter homes to mind they assembled in +large flocks on dead or leafless trees by the side of a meadow or +field, perhaps to get acquainted and talk the thing over. Some species +held regular daily meetings for several weeks before finally setting +forth on their long southern journeys. Strange to say, we never saw +them start. Some morning we would find them gone. Doubtless they +migrated in the night time. Comparatively few species remained all +winter, the nuthatch, chickadee, owl, prairie chicken, quail, and a few +stragglers from the main flocks of ducks, jays, hawks, and bluebirds. +Only after the country was settled did either jays or bluebirds winter +with us. + +The brave, frost-defying chickadees and nuthatches stayed all the year +wholly independent of farms and man’s food and affairs. + +With the first hints of spring came the brave little bluebirds, darling +singers as blue as the best sky, and of course we all loved them. Their +rich, crispy warbling is perfectly delightful, soothing and cheering, +sweet and whisperingly low, Nature’s fine love touches, every note +going straight home into one’s heart. And withal they are hardy and +brave, fearless fighters in defense of home. When we boys approached +their knot-hole nests, the bold little fellows kept scolding and diving +at us and tried to strike us in the face, and oftentimes we were afraid +they would prick our eyes. But the boldness of the little housekeepers +only made us love them the more. + +None of the bird people of Wisconsin welcomed us more heartily than the +common robin. Far from showing alarm at the coming of settlers into +their native woods, they reared their young around our gardens as if +they liked us, and how heartily we admired the beauty and fine manners +of these graceful birds and their loud cheery song of _Fear not, fear +not, cheer up, cheer up_. It was easy to love them for they reminded us +of the robin redbreast of Scotland. Like the bluebirds they dared every +danger in defense of home, and we often wondered that birds so gentle +could be so bold and that sweet-voiced singers could so fiercely fight +and scold. + +Of all the great singers that sweeten Wisconsin one of the best known +and best loved is the brown thrush or thrasher, strong and able without +being familiar, and easily seen and heard. Rosy purple evenings after +thundershowers are the favorite song-times, when the winds have died +away and the steaming ground and the leaves and flowers fill the air +with fragrance. Then the male makes haste to the topmost spray of an +oak tree and sings loud and clear with delightful enthusiasm until +sundown, mostly I suppose for his mate sitting on the precious eggs in +a brush heap. And how faithful and watchful and daring he is! Woe to +the snake or squirrel that ventured to go nigh the nest! We often saw +him diving on them, pecking them about the head and driving them away +as bravely as the kingbird drives away hawks. Their rich and varied +strains make the air fairly quiver. We boys often tried to interpret +the wild ringing melody and put it into words. + +After the arrival of the thrushes came the bobolinks, gushing, +gurgling, inexhaustible fountains of song, pouring forth floods of +sweet notes over the broad Fox River meadows in wonderful variety and +volume, crowded and mixed beyond description, as they hovered on +quivering wings above their hidden nests in the grass. It seemed +marvelous to us that birds so moderate in size could hold so much of +this wonderful song stuff. Each one of them poured forth music enough +for a whole flock, singing as if its whole body, feathers and all, were +made up of music, flowing, glowing, bubbling melody interpenetrated +here and there with small scintillating prickles and spicules. We never +became so intimately acquainted with the bobolinks as with the +thrushes, for they lived far out on the broad Fox River meadows, while +the thrushes sang on the tree-tops around every home. The bobolinks +were among the first of our great singers to leave us in the fall, +going apparently direct to the rice-fields of the Southern States, +where they grew fat and were slaughtered in countless numbers for food. +Sad fate for singers so purely divine. + +One of the gayest of the singers is the redwing blackbird. In the +spring, when his scarlet epaulets shine brightest, and his little +modest gray wife is sitting on the nest, built on rushes in a swamp, he +sits on a nearby oak and devotedly sings almost all day. His rich +simple strain is _baumpalee_, _baumpalee_, or _bobalee_ as interpreted +by some. In summer, after nesting cares are over, they assemble in +flocks of hundreds and thousands to feast on Indian corn when it is in +the milk. Scattering over a field, each selects an ear, strips the husk +down far enough to lay bare an inch or two of the end of it, enjoys an +exhilarating feast, and after all are full they rise simultaneously +with a quick birr of wings like an old-fashioned church congregation +fluttering to their feet when the minister after giving out the hymn +says, “Let the congregation arise and sing.” Alighting on nearby trees, +they sing with a hearty vengeance, bursting out without any puttering +prelude in gloriously glad concert, hundreds or thousands of exulting +voices with sweet gurgling _baumpalees_ mingled with chippy vibrant and +exploding globules of musical notes, making a most enthusiastic, +indescribable joy-song, a combination unlike anything to be heard +elsewhere in the bird kingdom; something like bagpipes, flutes, +violins, pianos, and human-like voices all bursting and bubbling at +once. Then suddenly some one of the joyful congregation shouts Chirr! +Chirr! and all stop as if shot. + +The sweet-voiced meadowlark with its placid, simple song of +_peery-eery-ódical_ was another favorite, and we soon learned to admire +the Baltimore oriole and its wonderful hanging nests, and the scarlet +tanager glowing like fire amid the green leaves. + +But no singer of them all got farther into our hearts than the little +speckle-breasted song sparrow, one of the first to arrive and begin +nest-building and singing. The richness, sweetness, and pathos of this +small darling’s song as he sat on a low bush often brought tears to our +eyes. + +The little cheery, modest chickadee midget, loved by every innocent boy +and girl, man and woman, and by many not altogether innocent, was one +of the first of the birds to attract our attention, drawing nearer and +nearer to us as the winter advanced, bravely singing his faint silvery, +lisping, tinkling notes ending with a bright _dee, dee, dee_! however +frosty the weather. + +The nuthatches, who also stayed all winter with us, were favorites with +us boys. We loved to watch them as they traced the bark-furrows of the +oaks and hickories head downward, deftly flicking off loose scales and +splinters in search of insects, and braving the coldest weather as if +their little sparks of life were as safely warm in winter as in summer, +unquenchable by the severest frost. With the help of the chickadees +they made a delightful stir in the solemn winter days, and when we were +out chopping we never ceased to wonder how their slender naked toes +could be kept warm when our own were so painfully frosted though clad +in thick socks and boots. And we wondered and admired the more when we +thought of the little midgets sleeping in knot-holes when the +temperature was far below zero, sometimes thirty-five degrees below, +and in the morning, after a minute breakfast of a few frozen insects +and hoarfrost crystals, playing and chatting in cheery tones as if +food, weather, and everything was according to their own warm hearts. +Our Yankee told us that the name of this darling was Devil-downhead. + +Their big neighbors the owls also made good winter music, singing out +loud in wild, gallant strains bespeaking brave comfort, let the frost +bite as it might. The solemn hooting of the species with the widest +throat seemed to us the very wildest of all the winter sounds. + +Prairie chickens came strolling in family flocks about the shanty, +picking seeds and grasshoppers like domestic fowls, and they became +still more abundant as wheat-and corn-fields were multiplied, but also +wilder, of course, when every shotgun in the country was aimed at them. +The booming of the males during the mating-season was one of the +loudest and strangest of the early spring sounds, being easily heard on +calm mornings at a distance of a half or three fourths of a mile. As +soon as the snow was off the ground, they assembled in flocks of a +dozen or two on an open spot, usually on the side of a ploughed field, +ruffled up their feathers, inflated the curious colored sacks on the +sides of their necks, and strutted about with queer gestures something +like turkey gobblers, uttering strange loud, rounded, drumming +calls,—_boom! boom! boom!_ interrupted by choking sounds. My brother +Daniel caught one while she was sitting on her nest in our corn-field. +The young are just like domestic chicks, run with the mother as soon as +hatched, and stay with her until autumn, feeding on the ground, never +taking wing unless disturbed. In winter, when full-grown, they assemble +in large flocks, fly about sundown to selected roosting-places on tall +trees, and to feeding-places in the morning,—unhusked corn-fields, if +any are to be found in the neighborhood, or thickets of dwarf birch and +willows, the buds of which furnish a considerable part of their food +when snow covers the ground. + +The wild rice-marshes along the Fox River and around Pucaway Lake were +the summer homes of millions of ducks, and in the Indian summer, when +the rice was ripe, they grew very fat. The magnificent mallards in +particular afforded our Yankee neighbors royal feasts almost without +price, for often as many as a half-dozen were killed at a shot, but we +seldom were allowed a single hour for hunting and so got very few. The +autumn duck season was a glad time for the Indians also, for they +feasted and grew fat not only on the ducks but on the wild rice, large +quantities of which they gathered as they glided through the midst of +the generous crop in canoes, bending down handfuls over the sides, and +beating out the grain with small paddles. + +The warmth of the deep spring fountains of the creek in our meadow kept +it open all the year, and a few pairs of wood ducks, the most +beautiful, we thought, of all the ducks, wintered in it. I well +remember the first specimen I ever saw. Father shot it in the creek +during a snowstorm, brought it into the house, and called us around +him, saying: “Come, bairns, and admire the work of God displayed in +this bonnie bird. Naebody but God could paint feathers like these. +Juist look at the colors, hoo they shine, and hoo fine they overlap and +blend thegether like the colors o’ the rainbow.” And we all agreed that +never, never before had we seen so awfu’ bonnie a bird. A pair nested +every year in the hollow top of an oak stump about fifteen feet high +that stood on the side of the meadow, and we used to wonder how they +got the fluffy young ones down from the nest and across the meadow to +the lake when they were only helpless, featherless midgets; whether the +mother carried them to the water on her back or in her mouth. I never +saw the thing done or found anybody who had until this summer, when Mr. +Holabird, a keen observer, told me that he once saw the mother carry +them from the nest tree in her mouth, quickly coming and going to a +nearby stream, and in a few minutes get them all together and proudly +sail away. + +Sometimes a flock of swans were seen passing over at a great height on +their long journeys, and we admired their clear bugle notes, but they +seldom visited any of the lakes in our neighborhood, so seldom that +when they did it was talked of for years. One was shot by a blacksmith +on a millpond with a long-range Sharp’s rifle, and many of the +neighbors went far to see it. + +The common gray goose, Canada honker, flying in regular harrow-shaped +flocks, was one of the wildest and wariest of all the large birds that +enlivened the spring and autumn. They seldom ventured to alight in our +small lake, fearing, I suppose, that hunters might be concealed in the +rushes, but on account of their fondness for the young leaves of winter +wheat when they were a few inches high, they often alighted on our +fields when passing on their way south, and occasionally even in our +corn-fields when a snowstorm was blowing and they were hungry and +wing-weary, with nearly an inch of snow on their backs. In such times +of distress we used to pity them, even while trying to get a shot at +them. They were exceedingly cautious and circumspect; usually flew +several times round the adjacent thickets and fences to make sure that +no enemy was near before settling down, and one always stood on guard, +relieved from time to time, while the flock was feeding. Therefore +there was no chance to creep up on them unobserved; you had to be well +hidden before the flock arrived. It was the ambition of boys to be able +to shoot these wary birds. I never got but two, both of them at one +so-called lucky shot. When I ran to pick them up, one of them flew +away, but as the poor fellow was sorely wounded he didn’t fly far. When +I caught him after a short chase, he uttered a piercing cry of terror +and despair, which the leader of the flock heard at a distance of about +a hundred rods. They had flown off in frightened disorder, of course, +but had got into the regular harrow-shape order when the leader heard +the cry, and I shall never forget how bravely he left his place at the +head of the flock and hurried back screaming and struck at me in trying +to save his companion. I dodged down and held my hands over my head, +and thus escaped a blow of his elbows. Fortunately I had left my gun at +the fence, and the life of this noble bird was spared after he had +risked it in trying to save his wounded friend or neighbor or family +relation. For so shy a bird boldly to attack a hunter showed wonderful +sympathy and courage. This is one of my strangest hunting experiences. +Never before had I regarded wild geese as dangerous, or capable of such +noble self-sacrificing devotion. + +The loud clear call of the handsome bob-whites was one of the +pleasantest and most characteristic of our spring sounds, and we soon +learned to imitate it so well that a bold cock often accepted our +challenge and came flying to fight. The young run as soon as they are +hatched and follow their parents until spring, roosting on the ground +in a close bunch, heads out ready to scatter and fly. These fine birds +were seldom seen when we first arrived in the wilderness, but when +wheat-fields supplied abundance of food they multiplied very fast, +although oftentimes sore pressed during hard winters when the snow +reached a depth of two or three feet, covering their food, while the +mercury fell to twenty or thirty degrees below zero. Occasionally, +although shy on account of being persistently hunted, under pressure of +extreme hunger in the very coldest weather when the snow was deepest +they ventured into barnyards and even approached the doorsteps of +houses, searching for any sort of scraps and crumbs, as if piteously +begging for food. One of our neighbors saw a flock come creeping up +through the snow, unable to fly, hardly able to walk, and while +approaching the door several of them actually fell down and died; +showing that birds, usually so vigorous and apparently independent of +fortune, suffer and lose their lives in extreme weather like the rest +of us, frozen to death like settlers caught in blizzards. None of our +neighbors perished in storms, though many had feet, ears, and fingers +frost-nipped or solidly frozen. + +As soon as the lake ice melted, we heard the lonely cry of the loon, +one of the wildest and most striking of all the wilderness sounds, a +strange, sad, mournful, unearthly cry, half laughing, half wailing. +Nevertheless the great northern diver, as our species is called, is a +brave, hardy, beautiful bird, able to fly under water about as well as +above it, and to spear and capture the swiftest fishes for food. Those +that haunted our lake were so wary none was shot for years, though +every boy hunter in the neighborhood was ambitious to get one to prove +his skill. On one of our bitter cold New Year holidays I was surprised +to see a loon in the small open part of the lake at the mouth of the +inlet that was kept from freezing by the warm spring water. I knew that +it could not fly out of so small a place, for these heavy birds have to +beat the water for half a mile or so before they can get fairly on the +wing. Their narrow, finlike wings are very small as compared with the +weight of the body and are evidently made for flying through water as +well as through the air, and it is by means of their swift flight +through the water and the swiftness of the blow they strike with their +long, spear-like bills that they are able to capture the fishes on +which they feed. I ran down the meadow with the gun, got into my boat, +and pursued that poor winter-bound straggler. Of course he dived again +and again, but had to come up to breathe, and I at length got a quick +shot at his head and slightly wounded or stunned him, caught him, and +ran proudly back to the house with my prize. I carried him in my arms; +he didn’t struggle to get away or offer to strike me, and when I put +him on the floor in front of the kitchen stove, he just rested quietly +on his belly as noiseless and motionless as if he were a stuffed +specimen on a shelf, held his neck erect, gave no sign of suffering +from any wound, and though he was motionless, his small black eyes +seemed to be ever keenly watchful. His formidable bill, very sharp, +three or three and a half inches long, and shaped like a pickaxe, was +held perfectly level. But the wonder was that he did not struggle or +make the slightest movement. We had a tortoise-shell cat, an old Tom of +great experience, who was so fond of lying under the stove in frosty +weather that it was difficult even to poke him out with a broom; but +when he saw and smelled that strange big fishy, black and white, +speckledy bird, the like of which he had never before seen, he rushed +wildly to the farther corner of the kitchen, looked back cautiously and +suspiciously, and began to make a careful study of the handsome but +dangerous-looking stranger. Becoming more and more curious and +interested, he at length advanced a step or two for a nearer view and +nearer smell; and as the wonderful bird kept absolutely motionless, he +was encouraged to venture gradually nearer and nearer until within +perhaps five or six feet of its breast. Then the wary loon, not liking +Tom’s looks in so near a view, which perhaps recalled to his mind the +plundering minks and muskrats he had to fight when they approached his +nest, prepared to defend himself by slowly, almost imperceptibly +drawing back his long pickaxe bill, and without the slightest fuss or +stir held it level and ready just over his tail. With that dangerous +bill drawn so far back out of the way, Tom’s confidence in the +stranger’s peaceful intentions seemed almost complete, and, thus +encouraged, he at last ventured forward with wondering, questioning +eyes and quivering nostrils until he was only eighteen or twenty inches +from the loon’s smooth white breast. When the beautiful bird, +apparently as peaceful and inoffensive as a flower, saw that his hairy +yellow enemy had arrived at the right distance, the loon, who evidently +was a fine judge of the reach of his spear, shot it forward quick as a +lightning-flash, in marvelous contrast to the wonderful slowness of the +preparatory poising, backward motion. The aim was true to a +hair-breadth. Tom was struck right in the centre of his forehead, +between the eyes. I thought his skull was cracked. Perhaps it was. The +sudden astonishment of that outraged cat, the virtuous indignation and +wrath, terror, and pain, are far beyond description. His eyes and +screams and desperate retreat told all that. When the blow was +received, he made a noise that I never heard a cat make before or +since; an awfully deep, condensed, screechy, explosive _Wuck!_ as he +bounced straight up in the air like a bucking bronco; and when he +alighted after his spring, he rushed madly across the room and made +frantic efforts to climb up the hard-finished plaster wall. Not +satisfied to get the width of the kitchen away from his mysterious +enemy, for the first time that cold winter he tried to get out of the +house, anyhow, anywhere out of that loon-infested room. When he finally +ventured to look back and saw that the barbarous bird was still there, +tranquil and motionless in front of the stove, he regained command of +some of his shattered senses and carefully commenced to examine his +wound. Backed against the wall in the farthest corner, and keeping his +eye on the outrageous bird, he tenderly touched and washed the sore +spot, wetting his paw with his tongue, pausing now and then as his +courage increased to glare and stare and growl at his enemy with looks +and tones wonderfully human, as if saying: “You confounded fishy, +unfair rascal! What did you do that for? What had I done to you? +Faithless, legless, long-nosed wretch!” Intense experiences like the +above bring out the humanity that is in all animals. One touch of +nature, even a cat-and-loon touch, makes all the world kin. + +It was a great memorable day when the first flock of passenger pigeons +came to our farm, calling to mind the story we had read about them when +we were at school in Scotland. Of all God’s feathered people that +sailed the Wisconsin sky, no other bird seemed to us so wonderful. The +beautiful wanderers flew like the winds in flocks of millions from +climate to climate in accord with the weather, finding their +food—acorns, beechnuts, pine-nuts, cranberries, strawberries, +huckleberries, juniper berries, hackberries, buckwheat, rice, wheat, +oats, corn—in fields and forests thousands of miles apart. I have seen +flocks streaming south in the fall so large that they were flowing over +from horizon to horizon in an almost continuous stream all day long, at +the rate of forty or fifty miles an hour, like a mighty river in the +sky, widening, contracting, descending like falls and cataracts, and +rising suddenly here and there in huge ragged masses like high-plashing +spray. How wonderful the distances they flew in a day—in a year—in a +lifetime! They arrived in Wisconsin in the spring just after the sun +had cleared away the snow, and alighted in the woods to feed on the +fallen acorns that they had missed the previous autumn. A comparatively +small flock swept thousands of acres perfectly clean of acorns in a few +minutes, by moving straight ahead with a broad front. All got their +share, for the rear constantly became the van by flying over the flock +and alighting in front, the entire flock constantly changing from rear +to front, revolving something like a wheel with a low buzzing wing roar +that could be heard a long way off. In summer they feasted on wheat and +oats and were easily approached as they rested on the trees along the +sides of the field after a good full meal, displaying beautiful +iridescent colors as they moved their necks backward and forward when +we went very near them. Every shotgun was aimed at them and everybody +feasted on pigeon pies, and not a few of the settlers feasted also on +the beauty of the wonderful birds. The breast of the male is a fine +rosy red, the lower part of the neck behind and along the sides +changing from the red of the breast to gold, emerald green and rich +crimson. The general color of the upper parts is grayish blue, the +under parts white. The extreme length of the bird is about seventeen +inches; the finely modeled slender tail about eight inches, and extent +of wings twenty-four inches. The females are scarcely less beautiful. +“Oh, what bonnie, bonnie birds!” we exclaimed over the first that fell +into our hands. “Oh, what colors! Look at their breasts, bonnie as +roses, and at their necks aglow wi’ every color juist like the +wonderfu’ wood ducks. Oh, the bonnie, bonnie creatures, they beat a’! +Where did they a’ come fra, and where are they a’ gan? It’s awfu’ like +a sin to kill them!” To this some smug, practical old sinner would +remark: “Aye, it’s a peety, as ye say, to kill the bonnie things, but +they were made to be killed, and sent for us to eat as the quails were +sent to God’s chosen people, the Israelites, when they were starving in +the desert ayont the Red Sea. And I must confess that meat was never +put up in neater, handsomer-painted packages.” + +In the New England and Canada woods beechnuts were their best and most +abundant food, farther north, cranberries and huckleberries. After +everything was cleaned up in the north and winter was coming on, they +went south for rice, corn, acorns, haws, wild grapes, crab-apples, +sparkle-berries, etc. They seemed to require more than half of the +continent for feeding-grounds, moving from one table to another, field +to field, forest to forest, finding something ripe and wholesome all +the year round. In going south in the fine Indian-summer weather they +flew high and followed one another, though the head of the flock might +be hundreds of miles in advance. But against head winds they took +advantage of the inequalities of the ground, flying comparatively low. +All followed the leader’s ups and downs over hill and dale though far +out of sight, never hesitating at any turn of the way, vertical or +horizontal that the leaders had taken, though the largest flocks +stretched across several States, and belts of different kinds of +weather. + +There were no roosting-or breeding-places near our farm, and I never +saw any of them until long after the great flocks were exterminated. I +therefore quote, from Audubon’s and Pokagon’s vivid descriptions. + +“Toward evening,” Audubon says, “they depart for the roosting-place, +which may be hundreds of miles distant. One on the banks of Green +River, Kentucky, was over three miles wide and forty long.” + +“My first view of it,” says the great naturalist, “was about a +fortnight after it had been chosen by the birds, and I arrived there +nearly two hours before sunset. Few pigeons were then to be seen, but a +great many persons with horses and wagons and armed with guns, long +poles, sulphur pots, pine pitch torches, etc., had already established +encampments on the borders. Two farmers had driven upwards of three +hundred hogs a distance of more than a hundred miles to be fattened on +slaughtered pigeons. Here and there the people employed in plucking and +salting what had already been secured were sitting in the midst of +piles of birds. Dung several inches thick covered the ground. Many +trees two feet in diameter were broken off at no great distance from +the ground, and the branches of many of the tallest and largest had +given way, as if the forest had been swept by a tornado. + +“Not a pigeon had arrived at sundown. Suddenly a general cry +arose—‘Here they come!’ The noise they made, though still distant, +reminded me of a hard gale at sea passing through the rigging of a +close-reefed ship. Thousands were soon knocked down by the pole-men. +The birds continued to pour in. The fires were lighted and a +magnificent as well as terrifying sight presented itself. The pigeons +pouring in alighted everywhere, one above another, until solid masses +were formed on the branches all around. Here and there the perches gave +way with a crash, and falling destroyed hundreds beneath, forcing down +the dense groups with which every stick was loaded; a scene of uproar +and conflict. I found it useless to speak or even to shout to those +persons nearest me. Even the reports of the guns were seldom heard, and +I was made aware of the firing only by seeing the shooters reloading. +None dared venture within the line of devastation. The hogs had been +penned up in due time, the picking up of the dead and wounded being +left for the next morning’s employment. The pigeons were constantly +coming in and it was after midnight before I perceived a decrease in +the number of those that arrived. The uproar continued all night, and +anxious to know how far the sound reached I sent off a man who, +returning two hours after, informed me that he had heard it distinctly +three miles distant. + + +BAROMETER +BAROMETER +Invented by the author in his boyhoodToList + +“Toward daylight the noise in some measure subsided; long before +objects were distinguishable the pigeons began to move off in a +direction quite different from that in which they had arrived the +evening before, and at sunrise all that were able to fly had +disappeared. The howling of the wolves now reached our ears, and the +foxes, lynxes, cougars, bears, coons, opossums, and polecats were seen +sneaking off, while eagles and hawks of different species, accompanied +by a crowd of vultures, came to supplant them and enjoy a share of the +spoil. + +“Then the authors of all this devastation began their entry amongst the +dead, the dying and mangled. The pigeons were picked up and piled in +heaps until each had as many as they could possible dispose of, when +the hogs were let loose to feed on the remainder. + +“The breeding-places are selected with reference to abundance of food, +and countless myriads resort to them. At this period the note of the +pigeon is coo coo coo, like that of the domestic species but much +shorter. They caress by billing, and during incubation the male +supplies the female with food. As the young grow, the tyrant of +creation appears to disturb the peaceful scene, armed with axes to chop +down the squab-laden trees, and the abomination of desolation and +destruction produced far surpasses even that of the roosting places.” + +Pokagon, an educated Indian writer, says: “I saw one nesting-place in +Wisconsin one hundred miles long and from three to ten miles wide. +Every tree, some of them quite low and scrubby, had from one to fifty +nests on each. Some of the nests overflow from the oaks to the hemlock +and pine woods. When the pigeon hunters attack the breeding-places they +sometimes cut the timber from thousands of acres. Millions are caught +in nets with salt or grain for bait, and schooners, sometimes loaded +down with the birds, are taken to New York where they are sold for a +cent apiece.” + + + + +VToC + +YOUNG HUNTERS + +American Head-hunters—Deer—A Resurrected Woodpecker—Muskrats—Foxes and +Badgers—A Pet Coon—Bathing—Squirrels—Gophers—A Burglarious Shrike. + + +In the older eastern States it used to be considered great sport for an +army of boys to assemble to hunt birds, squirrels, and every other +unclaimed, unprotected live thing of shootable size. They divided into +two squads, and, choosing leaders, scattered through the woods in +different directions, and the party that killed the greatest number +enjoyed a supper at the expense of the other. The whole neighborhood +seemed to enjoy the shameful sport especially the farmers afraid of +their crops. With a great air of importance, laws were enacted to +govern the gory business. For example, a gray squirrel must count four +heads, a woodchuck six heads, common red squirrel two heads, black +squirrel ten heads, a partridge five heads, the larger birds, such as +whip-poor-wills and nighthawks two heads each, the wary crows three, +and bob-whites three. But all the blessed company of mere songbirds, +warblers, robins, thrushes, orioles, with nuthatches, chickadees, blue +jays, woodpeckers, etc., counted only one head each. The heads of the +birds were hastily wrung off and thrust into the game-bags to be +counted, saving the bodies only of what were called game, the larger +squirrels, bob-whites, partridges, etc. The blood-stained bags of the +best slayers were soon bulging full. Then at a given hour all had to +stop and repair to the town, empty their dripping sacks, count the +heads, and go rejoicing to their dinner. Although, like other wild +boys, I was fond of shooting, I never had anything to do with these +abominable head-hunts. And now the farmers having learned that birds +are their friends wholesale slaughter has been abolished. + +We seldom saw deer, though their tracks were common. The Yankee +explained that they traveled and fed mostly at night, and hid in +tamarack swamps and brushy places in the daytime, and how the Indians +knew all about them and could find them whenever they were hungry. + +Indians belonging to the Menominee and Winnebago tribes occasionally +visited us at our cabin to get a piece of bread or some matches, or to +sharpen their knives on our grindstone, and we boys watched them +closely to see that they didn’t steal Jack. We wondered at their +knowledge of animals when we saw them go direct to trees on our farm, +chop holes in them with their tomahawks and take out coons, of the +existence of which we had never noticed the slightest trace. In winter, +after the first snow, we frequently saw three or four Indians hunting +deer in company, running like hounds on the fresh, exciting tracks. The +escape of the deer from these noiseless, tireless hunters was said to +be well-nigh impossible; they were followed to the death. + +Most of our neighbors brought some sort of gun from the old country, +but seldom took time to hunt, even after the first hard work of fencing +and clearing was over, except to shoot a duck or prairie chicken now +and then that happened to come in their way. It was only the less +industrious American settlers who left their work to go far a-hunting. +Two or three of our most enterprising American neighbors went off every +fall with their teams to the pine regions and cranberry marshes in the +northern part of the State to hunt and gather berries. I well remember +seeing their wagons loaded with game when they returned from a +successful hunt. Their loads consisted usually of half a dozen deer or +more, one or two black bears, and fifteen or twenty bushels of +cranberries; all solidly frozen. Part of both the berries and meat was +usually sold in Portage; the balance furnished their families with +abundance of venison, bear grease, and pies. + +Winter wheat is sown in the fall, and when it is a month or so old the +deer, like the wild geese, are very fond of it, especially since other +kinds of food are then becoming scarce. One of our neighbors across the +Fox River killed a large number, some thirty or forty, on a small patch +of wheat, simply by lying in wait for them every night. Our wheat-field +was the first that was sown in the neighborhood. The deer soon found it +and came in every night to feast, but it was eight or nine years before +we ever disturbed them. David then killed one deer, the only one killed +by any of our family. He went out shortly after sundown at the time of +full moon to one of our wheat-fields, carrying a double-barreled +shotgun loaded with buckshot. After lying in wait an hour or so, he saw +a doe and her fawn jump the fence and come cautiously into the wheat. +After they were within sixty or seventy yards of him, he was surprised +when he tried to take aim that about half of the moon’s disc was +mysteriously darkened as if covered by the edge of a dense cloud. This +proved to be an eclipse. Nevertheless, he fired at the mother, and she +immediately ran off, jumped the fence, and took to the woods by the way +she came. The fawn danced about bewildered, wondering what had become +of its mother, but finally fled to the woods. David fired at the poor +deserted thing as it ran past him but happily missed it. Hearing the +shots, I joined David to learn his luck. He said he thought he must +have wounded the mother, and when we were strolling about in the woods +in search of her we saw three or four deer on their way to the +wheat-field, led by a fine buck. They were walking rapidly, but +cautiously halted at intervals of a few rods to listen and look ahead +and scent the air. They failed to notice us, though by this time the +moon was out of the eclipse shadow and we were standing only about +fifty yards from them. I was carrying the gun. David had fired both +barrels but when he was reloading one of them he happened to put the +wad intended to cover the shot into the empty barrel, and so when we +were climbing over the fence the buckshot had rolled out, and when I +fired at the big buck I knew by the report that there was nothing but +powder in the charge. The startled deer danced about in confusion for a +few seconds, uncertain which way to run until they caught sight of us, +when they bounded off through the woods. Next morning we found the poor +mother lying about three hundred yards from the place where she was +shot. She had run this distance and jumped a high fence after one of +the buckshot had passed through her heart. + +Excepting Sundays we boys had only two days of the year to ourselves, +the 4th of July and the 1st of January. Sundays were less than half our +own, on account of Bible lessons, Sunday-school lessons and church +services; all the others were labor days, rain or shine, cold or warm. +No wonder, then, that our two holidays were precious and that it was +not easy to decide what to do with them. They were usually spent on the +highest rocky hill in the neighborhood, called the Observatory; in +visiting our boy friends on adjacent farms to hunt, fish, wrestle, and +play games; in reading some new favorite book we had managed to borrow +or buy; or in making models of machines I had invented. + +One of our July days was spent with two Scotch boys of our own age +hunting redwing blackbirds then busy in the corn-fields. Our party had +only one single-barreled shotgun, which, as the oldest and perhaps +because I was thought to be the best shot, I had the honor of carrying. +We marched through the corn without getting sight of a single redwing, +but just as we reached the far side of the field, a red-headed +woodpecker flew up, and the Lawson boys cried: “Shoot him! Shoot him! +he is just as bad as a blackbird. He eats corn!” This memorable +woodpecker alighted in the top of a white oak tree about fifty feet +high. I fired from a position almost immediately beneath him, and he +fell straight down at my feet. When I picked him up and was admiring +his plumage, he moved his legs slightly, and I said, “Poor bird, he’s +no deed yet and we’ll hae to kill him to put him oot o’ +pain,”—sincerely pitying him, after we had taken pleasure in shooting +him. I had seen servant girls wringing chicken necks, so with desperate +humanity I took the limp unfortunate by the head, swung him around +three or four times thinking I was wringing his neck, and then threw +him hard on the ground to quench the last possible spark of life and +make quick death doubly sure. But to our astonishment the moment he +struck the ground he gave a cry of alarm and flew right straight up +like a rejoicing lark into the top of the same tree, and perhaps to the +same branch he had fallen from, and began to adjust his ruffled +feathers, nodding and chirping and looking down at us as if wondering +what in the bird world we had been doing to him. This of course +banished all thought of killing, as far as that revived woodpecker was +concerned, no matter how many ears of corn he might spoil, and we all +heartily congratulated him on his wonderful, triumphant resurrection +from three kinds of death,—shooting, neck-wringing, and destructive +concussion. I suppose only one pellet had touched him, glancing on his +head. + +Another extraordinary shooting-affair happened one summer morning +shortly after daybreak. When I went to the stable to feed the horses I +noticed a big white-breasted hawk on a tall oak in front of the +chicken-house, evidently waiting for a chicken breakfast. I ran to the +house for the gun, and when I fired he fell about halfway down the +tree, caught a branch with his claws, hung back downward and fluttered +a few seconds, then managed to stand erect. I fired again to put him +out of pain, and to my surprise the second shot seemed to restore his +strength instead of killing him, for he flew out of the tree and over +the meadow with strong and regular wing-beats for thirty or forty rods +apparently as well as ever, but died suddenly in the air and dropped +like a stone. + +We hunted muskrats whenever we had time to run down to the lake. They +are brown bunchy animals about twenty-three inches long, the tail being +about nine inches in length, black in color and flattened vertically +for sculling, and the hind feet are half-webbed. They look like little +beavers, usually have from ten to a dozen young, are easily tamed and +make interesting pets. We liked to watch them at their work and at +their meals. In the spring when the snow vanishes and the lake ice +begins to melt, the first open spot is always used as a feeding-place, +where they dive from the edge of the ice and in a minute or less +reappear with a mussel or a mouthful of pontederia or water-lily +leaves, climb back on to the ice and sit up to nibble their food, +handling it very much like squirrels or marmots. It is then that they +are most easily shot, a solitary hunter oftentimes shooting thirty or +forty in a single day. Their nests on the rushy margins of lakes and +streams, far from being hidden like those of most birds, are +conspicuously large, and conical in shape like Indian wigwams. They are +built of plants—rushes, sedges, mosses, etc.—and ornamented around the +base with mussel-shells. It was always pleasant and interesting to see +them in the fall as soon as the nights began to be frosty, hard at work +cutting sedges on the edge of the meadow or swimming out through the +rushes, making long glittering ripples as they sculled themselves +along, diving where the water is perhaps six or eight feet deep and +reappearing in a minute or so with large mouthfuls of the weedy tangled +plants gathered from the bottom, returning to their big wigwams, +climbing up and depositing their loads where most needed to make them +yet larger and firmer and warmer, foreseeing the freezing weather just +like ourselves when we banked up our house to keep out the frost. + +They lie snug and invisible all winter but do not hibernate. Through a +channel carefully kept open they swim out under the ice for mussels, +and the roots and stems of water-lilies, etc., on which they feed just +as they do in summer. Sometimes the oldest and most enterprising of +them venture to orchards near the water in search of fallen apples; +very seldom, however, do they interfere with anything belonging to +their mortal enemy man. Notwithstanding they are so well hidden and +protected during the winter, many of them are killed by Indian hunters, +who creep up softly and spear them through the thick walls of their +cabins. Indians are fond of their flesh, and so are some of the wildest +of the white trappers. They are easily caught in steel traps, and after +vainly trying to drag their feet from the cruel crushing jaws, they +sometimes in their agony gnaw them off. Even after having gnawed off a +leg they are so guileless that they never seem to learn to know and +fear traps, for some are occasionally found that have been caught twice +and have gnawed off a second foot. Many other animals suffering +excruciating pain in these cruel traps gnaw off their legs. Crabs and +lobsters are so fortunate as to be able to shed their limbs when caught +or merely frightened, apparently without suffering any pain, simply by +giving themselves a little shivery shake. + +The muskrat is one of the most notable and widely distributed of +American animals, and millions of the gentle, industrious, beaver-like +creatures are shot and trapped and speared every season for their +skins, worth a dime or so,—like shooting boys and girls for their +garments. + +Surely a better time must be drawing nigh when godlike human beings +will become truly humane, and learn to put their animal fellow mortals +in their hearts instead of on their backs or in their dinners. In the +mean time we may just as well as not learn to live clean, innocent +lives instead of slimy, bloody ones. All hale, red-blooded boys are +savage, the best and boldest the savagest, fond of hunting and fishing. +But when thoughtless childhood is past, the best rise the highest above +all this bloody flesh and sport business, the wild foundational animal +dying out day by day, as divine uplifting, transfiguring charity grows +in. + +Hares and rabbits were seldom seen when we first settled in the +Wisconsin woods, but they multiplied rapidly after the animals that +preyed upon them had been thinned out or exterminated, and food and +shelter supplied in grain-fields and log fences and the thickets of +young oaks that grew up in pastures after the annual grass fires were +kept out. Catching hares in the winter-time, when they were hidden in +hollow fence-logs, was a favorite pastime with many of the boys whose +fathers allowed them time to enjoy the sport. Occasionally a stout, +lithe hare was carried out into an open snow-covered field, set free, +and given a chance for its life in a race with a dog. When the snow was +not too soft and deep, it usually made good its escape, for our dogs +were only fat, short-legged mongrels. We sometimes discovered hares in +standing hollow trees, crouching on decayed punky wood at the bottom, +as far back as possible from the opening, but when alarmed they managed +to climb to a considerable height if the hollow was not too wide, by +bracing themselves against the sides. + +Foxes, though not uncommon, we boys held steadily to work seldom saw, +and as they found plenty of prairie chickens for themselves and +families, they did not often come near the farmer’s hen-roosts. +Nevertheless the discovery of their dens was considered important. No +matter how deep the den might be, it was thoroughly explored with pick +and shovel by sport-loving settlers at a time when they judged the fox +was likely to be at home, but I cannot remember any case in our +neighborhood where the fox was actually captured. In one of the dens a +mile or two from our farm a lot of prairie chickens were found and some +smaller birds. + +Badger dens were far more common than fox dens. One of our fields was +named Badger Hill from the number of badger holes in a hill at the end +of it, but I cannot remember seeing a single one of the inhabitants. + +On a stormy day in the middle of an unusually severe winter, a black +bear, hungry, no doubt, and seeking something to eat, came strolling +down through our neighborhood from the northern pine woods. None had +been seen here before, and it caused no little excitement and alarm, +for the European settlers imagined that these poor, timid, bashful +bears were as dangerous as man-eating lions and tigers, and that they +would pursue any human being that came in their way. This species is +common in the north part of the State, and few of our enterprising +Yankee hunters who went to the pineries in the fall failed to shoot at +least one of them. + +We saw very little of the owlish, serious-looking coons, and no wonder, +since they lie hidden nearly all day in hollow trees and we never had +time to hunt them. We often heard their curious, quavering, whinnying +cries on still evenings, but only once succeeded in tracing an +unfortunate family through our corn-field to their den in a big oak and +catching them all. One of our neighbors, Mr. McRath, a Highland +Scotchman, caught one and made a pet of it. It became very tame and had +perfect confidence in the good intentions of its kind friend and +master. He always addressed it in speaking to it as a “little man.” +When it came running to him and jumped on his lap or climbed up his +trousers, he would say, while patting its head as if it were a dog or a +child, “Coonie, ma mannie, Coonie, ma mannie, hoo are ye the day? I +think you’re hungry,”—as the comical pet began to examine his pockets +for nuts and bits of bread,—“Na, na, there’s nathing in my pooch for ye +the day, my wee mannie, but I’ll get ye something.” He would then fetch +something it liked,—bread, nuts, a carrot, or perhaps a piece of fresh +meat. Anything scattered for it on the floor it felt with its paw +instead of looking at it, judging of its worth more by touch than +sight. + +The outlet of our Fountain Lake flowed past Mr. McRath’s door, and the +coon was very fond of swimming in it and searching for frogs and +mussels. It seemed perfectly satisfied to stay about the house without +being confined, occupied a comfortable bed in a section of a hollow +tree, and never wandered far. How long it lived after the death of its +kind master I don’t know. + +I suppose that almost any wild animal may be made a pet, simply by +sympathizing with it and entering as much as possible into its life. In +Alaska I saw one of the common gray mountain marmots kept as a pet in +an Indian family. When its master entered the house it always seemed +glad, almost like a dog, and when cold or tired it snuggled up in a +fold of his blanket with the utmost confidence. + +We have all heard of ferocious animals, lions and tigers, etc., that +were fed and spoken to only by their masters, becoming perfectly tame; +and, as is well known, the faithful dog that follows man and serves +him, and looks up to him and loves him as if he were a god, is a +descendant of the blood-thirsty wolf or jackal. Even frogs and toads +and fishes may be tamed, provided they have the uniform sympathy of one +person, with whom they become intimately acquainted without the +distracting and varying attentions of strangers. And surely all God’s +people, however serious and savage, great or small, like to play. +Whales and elephants, dancing, humming gnats, and invisibly small +mischievous microbes,—all are warm with divine radium and must have +lots of fun in them. + +As far as I know, all wild creatures keep themselves clean. Birds, it +seems to me, take more pains to bathe and dress themselves than any +other animals. Even ducks, though living so much in water, dip and +scatter cleansing showers over their backs, and shake and preen their +feathers as carefully as land-birds. Watching small singers taking +their morning baths is very interesting, particularly when the weather +is cold. Alighting in a shallow pool, they oftentimes show a sort of +dread of dipping into it, like children hesitating about taking a +plunge, as if they felt the same kind of shock, and this makes it easy +for us to sympathize with the little feathered people. + +Occasionally I have seen from my study-window red-headed linnets +bathing in dew when water elsewhere was scarce. A large Monterey +cypress with broad branches and innumerable leaves on which the dew +lodges in still nights made favorite bathing-places. Alighting gently, +as if afraid to waste the dew, they would pause and fidget as they do +before beginning to plash in pools, then dip and scatter the drops in +showers and get as thorough a bath as they would in a pool. I have also +seen the same kind of baths taken by birds on the boughs of silver firs +on the edge of a glacier meadow, but nowhere have I seen the dewdrops +so abundant as on the Monterey cypress; and the picture made by the +quivering wings and irised dew was memorably beautiful. Children, too, +make fine pictures plashing and crowing in their little tubs. How +widely different from wallowing pigs, bathing with great show of +comfort and rubbing themselves dry against rough-barked trees! + +Some of our own species seem fairly to dread the touch of water. When +the necessity of absolute cleanliness by means of frequent baths was +being preached by a friend who had been reading Combe’s Physiology, in +which he had learned something of the wonders of the skin with its +millions of pores that had to be kept open for health, one of our +neighbors remarked: “Oh! that’s unnatural. It’s well enough to wash in +a tub maybe once or twice a year, but not to be paddling in the water +all the time like a frog in a spring-hole.” Another neighbor, who +prided himself on his knowledge of big words, said with great +solemnity: “I never can believe that man is amphibious!” + +Natives of tropic islands pass a large part of their lives in water, +and seem as much at home in the sea as on the land; swim and dive, +pursue fishes, play in the waves like surf-ducks and seals, and explore +the coral gardens and groves and seaweed meadows as if truly +amphibious. Even the natives of the far north bathe at times. I once +saw a lot of Eskimo boys ducking and plashing right merrily in the +Arctic Ocean. + +It seemed very wonderful to us that the wild animals could keep +themselves warm and strong in winter when the temperature was far below +zero. Feeble-looking rabbits scud away over the snow, lithe and +elastic, as if glorying in the frosty, sparkling weather and sure of +their dinners. I have seen gray squirrels dragging ears of corn about +as heavy as themselves out of our field through loose snow and up a +tree, balancing them on limbs and eating in comfort with their dry, +electric tails spread airily over their backs. Once I saw a fine hardy +fellow go into a knot-hole. Thrusting in my hand I caught him and +pulled him out. As soon as he guessed what I was up to, he took the end +of my thumb in his mouth and sunk his teeth right through it, but I +gripped him hard by the neck, carried him home, and shut him up in a +box that contained about half a bushel of hazel-and hickory-nuts, +hoping that he would not be too much frightened and discouraged to eat +while thus imprisoned after the rough handling he had suffered. I soon +learned, however, that sympathy in this direction was wasted, for no +sooner did I pop him in than he fell to with right hearty appetite, +gnawing and munching the nuts as if he had gathered them himself and +was very hungry that day. Therefore, after allowing time enough for a +good square meal, I made haste to get him out of the nut-box and shut +him up in a spare bedroom, in which father had hung a lot of selected +ears of Indian corn for seed. They were hung up by the husks on cords +stretched across from side to side of the room. The squirrel managed to +jump from the top of one of the bed-posts to the cord, cut off an ear, +and let it drop to the floor. He then jumped down, got a good grip of +the heavy ear, carried it to the top of one of the slippery, polished +bed-posts, seated himself comfortably, and, holding it well balanced, +deliberately pried out one kernel at a time with his long chisel teeth, +ate the soft, sweet germ, and dropped the hard part of the kernel. In +this masterly way, working at high speed, he demolished several ears a +day, and with a good warm bed in a box made himself at home and grew +fat. Then naturally, I suppose, free romping in the snow and tree-tops +with companions came to mind. Anyhow he began to look for a way of +escape. Of course he first tried the window, but found that his teeth +made no impression on the glass. Next he tried the sash and gnawed the +wood off level with the glass; then father happened to come upstairs +and discovered the mischief that was being done to his seed corn and +window and immediately ordered him out of the house. + +The flying squirrel was one of the most interesting of the little +animals we found in the woods, a beautiful brown creature, with fine +eyes and smooth, soft fur like that of a mole or field mouse. He is +about half as long as the gray squirrel, but his wide-spread tail and +the folds of skin along his sides that form the wings make him look +broad and flat, something like a kite. In the evenings our cat often +brought them to her kittens at the shanty, and later we saw them fly +during the day from the trees we were chopping. They jumped and glided +off smoothly and apparently without effort, like birds, as soon as they +heard and felt the breaking shock of the strained fibres at the stump, +when the trees they were in began to totter and groan. They can fly, or +rather glide, twenty or thirty yards from the top of a tree twenty or +thirty feet high to the foot of another, gliding upward as they reach +the trunk, or if the distance is too great they alight comfortably on +the ground and make haste to the nearest tree, and climb just like the +wingless squirrels. + +Every boy and girl loves the little fairy, airy striped chipmunk, half +squirrel, half spermophile. He is about the size of a field mouse, and +often made us think of linnets and song sparrows as he frisked about +gathering nuts and berries. He likes almost all kinds of grain, +berries, and nuts,—hazel-nuts, hickory-nuts, strawberries, +huckleberries, wheat, oats, corn,—he is fond of them all and thrives on +them. Most of the hazel bushes on our farm grew along the fences as if +they had been planted for the chipmunks alone, for the rail fences were +their favorite highways. We never wearied watching them, especially +when the hazel-nuts were ripe and the little fellows were sitting on +the rails nibbling and handling them like tree-squirrels. We used to +notice too that, although they are very neat animals, their lips and +fingers were dyed red like our own, when the strawberries and +huckleberries were ripe. We could always tell when the wheat and oats +were in the milk by seeing the chipmunks feeding on the ears. They kept +nibbling at the wheat until it was harvested and then gleaned in the +stubble, keeping up a careful watch for their enemies,—dogs, hawks, and +shrikes. They are as widely distributed over the continent as the +squirrels, various species inhabiting different regions on the +mountains and lowlands, but all the different kinds have the same +general characteristics of light, airy cheerfulness and good nature. + +Before the arrival of farmers in the Wisconsin woods the small ground +squirrels, called “gophers,” lived chiefly on the seeds of wild grasses +and weeds, but after the country was cleared and ploughed no feasting +animal fell to more heartily on the farmer’s wheat and corn. Increasing +rapidly in numbers and knowledge, they became very destructive, +especially in the spring when the corn was planted, for they learned to +trace the rows and dig up and eat the three or four seeds in each hill +about as fast as the poor farmers could cover them. And unless great +pains were taken to diminish the numbers of the cunning little robbers, +the fields had to be planted two or three times over, and even then +large gaps in the rows would be found. The loss of the grain they +consumed after it was ripe, together with the winter stores laid up in +their burrows, amounted to little as compared with the loss of the seed +on which the whole crop depended. + +One evening about sundown, when my father sent me out with the shotgun +to hunt them in a stubble field, I learned something curious and +interesting in connection with these mischievous gophers, though just +then they were doing no harm. As I strolled through the stubble +watching for a chance for a shot, a shrike flew past me and alighted on +an open spot at the mouth of a burrow about thirty yards ahead of me. +Curious to see what he was up to, I stood still to watch him. He looked +down the gopher hole in a listening attitude, then looked back at me to +see if I was coming, looked down again and listened, and looked back at +me. I stood perfectly still, and he kept twitching his tail, seeming +uneasy and doubtful about venturing to do the savage job that I soon +learned he had in his mind. Finally, encouraged by my keeping so still, +to my astonishment he suddenly vanished in the gopher hole. + + +COMBINED THERMOMETER, HYGROMETER, BAROMETER AND PYROMETER +COMBINED THERMOMETER, HYGROMETER, BAROMETER AND PYROMETER +Invented by the author in his boyhoodToList + +A bird going down a deep narrow hole in the ground like a ferret or a +weasel seemed very strange, and I thought it would be a fine thing to +run forward, clap my hand over the hole, and have the fun of +imprisoning him and seeing what he would do when he tried to get out. +So I ran forward but stopped when I got within a dozen or fifteen yards +of the hole, thinking it might perhaps be more interesting to wait and +see what would naturally happen without my interference. While I stood +there looking and listening, I heard a great disturbance going on in +the burrow, a mixed lot of keen squeaking, shrieking, distressful +cries, telling that down in the dark something terrible was being done. +Then suddenly out popped a half-grown gopher, four and a half or five +inches long, and, without stopping a single moment to choose a way of +escape, ran screaming through the stubble straight away from its home, +quickly followed by another and another, until some half-dozen were +driven out, all of them crying and running in different directions as +if at this dreadful time home, sweet home, was the most dangerous and +least desirable of any place in the wide world. Then out came the +shrike, flew above the run-away gopher children, and, diving on them, +killed them one after another with blows at the back of the skull. He +then seized one of them, dragged it to the top of a small clod so as to +be able to get a start, and laboriously made out to fly with it about +ten or fifteen yards, when he alighted to rest. Then he dragged it to +the top of another clod and flew with it about the same distance, +repeating this hard work over and over again until he managed to get +one of the gophers on to the top of a log fence. How much he ate of his +hard-won prey, or what he did with the others, I can’t tell, for by +this time the sun was down and I had to hurry home to my chores. + + + + +VIToC + +THE PLOUGHBOY + +The Crops—Doing Chores—The Sights and Sounds of Winter—Road-making—The +Spirit-rapping Craze—Tuberculosis among the Settlers—A Cruel +Brother—The Rights of the Indians—Put to the Plough at the Age of +Twelve—In the Harvest-Field—Over-Industry among the Settlers—Running +the Breaking-Plough—Digging a Well—Choke-Damp—Lining Bees. + + +At first, wheat, corn, and potatoes were the principal crops we raised; +wheat especially. But in four or five years the soil was so exhausted +that only five or six bushels an acre, even in the better fields, was +obtained, although when first ploughed twenty and twenty-five bushels +was about the ordinary yield. More attention was then paid to corn, but +without fertilizers the corn-crop also became very meagre. At last it +was discovered that English clover would grow on even the exhausted +fields, and that when ploughed under and planted with corn, or even +wheat, wonderful crops were raised. This caused a complete change in +farming methods; the farmers raised fertilizing clover, planted corn, +and fed the crop to cattle and hogs. + +But no crop raised in our wilderness was so surprisingly rich and sweet +and purely generous to us boys and, indeed, to everybody as the +watermelons and muskmelons. We planted a large patch on a sunny +hill-slope the very first spring, and it seemed miraculous that a few +handfuls of little flat seeds should in a few months send up a hundred +wagon-loads of crisp, sumptuous, red-hearted and yellow-hearted fruits +covering all the hill. We soon learned to know when they were in their +prime, and when over-ripe and mealy. Also that if a second crop was +taken from the same ground without fertilizing it, the melons would be +small and what we called soapy; that is, soft and smooth, utterly +uncrisp, and without a trace of the lively freshness and sweetness of +those raised on virgin soil. Coming in from the farm work at noon, the +half-dozen or so of melons we had placed in our cold spring were a +glorious luxury that only weary barefooted farm boys can ever know. + +Spring was not very trying as to temperature, and refreshing rains fell +at short intervals. The work of ploughing commenced as soon as the +frost was out of the ground. Corn-and potato-planting and the sowing of +spring wheat was comparatively light work, while the nesting birds sang +cheerily, grass and flowers covered the marshes and meadows and all the +wild, uncleared parts of the farm, and the trees put forth their new +leaves, those of the oaks forming beautiful purple masses as if every +leaf were a petal; and with all this we enjoyed the mild soothing +winds, the humming of innumerable small insects and hylas, and the +freshness and fragrance of everything. Then, too, came the wonderful +passenger pigeons streaming from the south, and flocks of geese and +cranes, filling all the sky with whistling wings. + +The summer work, on the contrary, was deadly heavy, especially +harvesting and corn-hoeing. All the ground had to be hoed over for the +first few years, before father bought cultivators or small +weed-covering ploughs, and we were not allowed a moment’s rest. The +hoes had to be kept working up and down as steadily as if they were +moved by machinery. Ploughing for winter wheat was comparatively easy, +when we walked barefooted in the furrows, while the fine autumn tints +kindled in the woods, and the hillsides were covered with golden +pumpkins. + +In summer the chores were grinding scythes, feeding the animals, +chopping stove-wood, and carrying water up the hill from the spring on +the edge of the meadow, etc. Then breakfast, and to the harvest or +hay-field. I was foolishly ambitious to be first in mowing and +cradling, and by the time I was sixteen led all the hired men. An hour +was allowed at noon for dinner and more chores. We stayed in the field +until dark, then supper, and still more chores, family worship, and to +bed; making altogether a hard, sweaty day of about sixteen or seventeen +hours. Think of that, ye blessed eight-hour-day laborers! + +In winter father came to the foot of the stairs and called us at six +o’clock to feed the horses and cattle, grind axes, bring in wood, and +do any other chores required, then breakfast, and out to work in the +mealy, frosty snow by daybreak, chopping, fencing, etc. So in general +our winter work was about as restless and trying as that of the +long-day summer. No matter what the weather, there was always something +to do. During heavy rains or snowstorms we worked in the barn, shelling +corn, fanning wheat, thrashing with the flail, making axe-handles or +ox-yokes, mending things, or sprouting and sorting potatoes in the +cellar. + +No pains were taken to diminish or in any way soften the natural +hardships of this pioneer farm life; nor did any of the Europeans seem +to know how to find reasonable ease and comfort if they would. The very +best oak and hickory fuel was embarrassingly abundant and cost nothing +but cutting and common sense; but instead of hauling great +heart-cheering loads of it for wide, open, all-welcoming, +climate-changing, beauty-making, Godlike ingle-fires, it was hauled +with weary heart-breaking industry into fences and waste places to get +it out of the way of the plough, and out of the way of doing good. The +only fire for the whole house was the kitchen stove, with a fire-box +about eighteen inches long and eight inches wide and deep,—scant space +for three or four small sticks, around which in hard zero weather all +the family of ten persons shivered, and beneath which in the morning we +found our socks and coarse, soggy boots frozen solid. We were not +allowed to start even this despicable little fire in its black box to +thaw them. No, we had to squeeze our throbbing, aching, chilblained +feet into them, causing greater pain than toothache, and hurry out to +chores. Fortunately the miserable chilblain pain began to abate as soon +as the temperature of our feet approached the freezing-point, enabling +us in spite of hard work and hard frost to enjoy the winter beauty,—the +wonderful radiance of the snow when it was starry with crystals, and +the dawns and the sunsets and white noons, and the cheery, enlivening +company of the brave chickadees and nuthatches. + +The winter stars far surpassed those of our stormy Scotland in +brightness, and we gazed and gazed as though we had never seen stars +before. Oftentimes the heavens were made still more glorious by +auroras, the long lance rays, called “Merry Dancers” in Scotland, +streaming with startling tremulous motion to the zenith. Usually the +electric auroral light is white or pale yellow, but in the third or +fourth of our Wisconsin winters there was a magnificently colored +aurora that was seen and admired over nearly all the continent. The +whole sky was draped in graceful purple and crimson folds glorious +beyond description. Father called us out into the yard in front of the +house where we had a wide view, crying, “Come! Come, mother! Come, +bairns! and see the glory of God. All the sky is clad in a robe of red +light. Look straight up to the crown where the folds are gathered. Hush +and wonder and adore, for surely this is the clothing of the Lord +Himself, and perhaps He will even now appear looking down from his high +heaven.” This celestial show was far more glorious than anything we had +ever yet beheld, and throughout that wonderful winter hardly anything +else was spoken of. + +We even enjoyed the snowstorms, the thronging crystals, like daisies, +coming down separate and distinct, were very different from the tufted +flakes we enjoyed so much in Scotland, when we ran into the midst of +the slow-falling feathery throng shouting with enthusiasm: “Jennie’s +plucking her doos! Jennie’s plucking her doos (doves)!” + +Nature has many ways of thinning and pruning and trimming her +forests,—lightning-strokes, heavy snow, and storm-winds to shatter and +blow down whole trees here and there or break off branches as required. +The results of these methods I have observed in different forests, but +only once have I seen pruning by rain. The rain froze on the trees as +it fell and grew so thick and heavy that many of them lost a third or +more of their branches. The view of the woods after the storm had +passed and the sun shone forth was something never to be forgotten. +Every twig and branch and rugged trunk was encased in pure crystal ice, +and each oak and hickory and willow became a fairy crystal palace. Such +dazzling brilliance, such effects of white light and irised light +glowing and flashing I had never seen before, nor have I since. This +sudden change of the leafless woods to glowing silver was, like the +great aurora, spoken of for years, and is one of the most beautiful of +the many pictures that enriches my life. And besides the great shows +there were thousands of others even in the coldest weather manifesting +the utmost fineness and tenderness of beauty and affording noble +compensation for hardship and pain. + +One of the most striking of the winter sounds was the loud roaring and +rumbling of the ice on our lake, from its shrinking and expanding with +the changes of the weather. The fishermen who were catching pickerel +said that they had no luck when this roaring was going on above the +fish. I remember how frightened we boys were when on one of our New +Year holidays we were taking a walk on the ice and heard for the first +time the sudden rumbling roar beneath our feet and running on ahead of +us, creaking and whooping as if all the ice eighteen or twenty inches +thick was breaking. + +In the neighborhood of our Wisconsin farm there were extensive swamps +consisting in great part of a thick sod of very tough carex roots +covering thin, watery lakes of mud. They originated in glacier lakes +that were gradually overgrown. This sod was so tough that oxen with +loaded wagons could be driven over it without cutting down through it, +although it was afloat. The carpenters who came to build our frame +house, noticing how the sedges sunk beneath their feet, said that if +they should break through, they would probably be well on their way to +California before touching bottom. On the contrary, all these +lake-basins are shallow as compared with their width. When we went into +the Wisconsin woods there was not a single wheel-track or cattle-track. +The only man-made road was an Indian trail along the Fox River between +Portage and Packwauckee Lake. Of course the deer, foxes, badgers, +coons, skunks, and even the squirrels had well-beaten tracks from their +dens and hiding-places in thickets, hollow trees, and the ground, but +they did not reach far, and but little noise was made by the +soft-footed travelers in passing over them, only a slight rustling and +swishing among fallen leaves and grass. + +Corduroying the swamps formed the principal part of road-making among +the early settlers for many a day. At these annual road-making +gatherings opportunity was offered for discussion of the news, +politics, religion, war, the state of the crops, comparative advantages +of the new country over the old, and so forth, but the principal +opportunities, recurring every week, were the hours after Sunday church +services. I remember hearing long talks on the wonderful beauty of the +Indian corn; the wonderful melons, so wondrous fine for “sloken a body +on hot days”; their contempt for tomatoes, so fine to look at with +their sunny colors and so disappointing in taste; the miserable +cucumbers the “Yankee bodies” ate, though tasteless as rushes; the +character of the Yankees, etcetera. Then there were long discussions +about the Russian war, news of which was eagerly gleaned from Greeley’s +“New York Tribune”; the great battles of the Alma, the charges at +Balaklava and Inkerman; the siege of Sebastopol; the military genius of +Todleben; the character of Nicholas; the character of the Russian +soldier, his stubborn bravery, who for the first time in history +withstood the British bayonet charges; the probable outcome of the +terrible war; the fate of Turkey, and so forth. + +Very few of our old-country neighbors gave much heed to what are called +spirit-rappings. On the contrary, they were regarded as a sort of +sleight-of-hand humbug. Some of these spirits seem to be stout +able-bodied fellows, judging by the weights they lift and the heavy +furniture they bang about. But they do no good work that I know of; +never saw wood, grind corn, cook, feed the hungry, or go to the help of +poor anxious mothers at the bedsides of their sick children. I noticed +when I was a boy that it was not the strongest characters who followed +so-called mediums. When a rapping-storm was at its height in Wisconsin, +one of our neighbors, an old Scotchman, remarked, “Thay puir silly +medium-bodies may gang to the deil wi’ their rappin’ speerits, for they +dae nae gude, and I think the deil’s their fayther.” + +Although in the spring of 1849 there was no other settler within a +radius of four miles of our Fountain Lake farm, in three or four years +almost every quarter-section of government land was taken up, mostly by +enthusiastic homeseekers from Great Britain, with only here and there +Yankee families from adjacent states, who had come drifting +indefinitely westward in covered wagons, seeking their fortunes like +winged seeds; all alike striking root and gripping the glacial drift +soil as naturally as oak and hickory trees; happy and hopeful, +establishing homes and making wider and wider fields in the hospitable +wilderness. The axe and plough were kept very busy; cattle, horses, +sheep, and pigs multiplied; barns and corn-cribs were filled up, and +man and beast were well fed; a schoolhouse was built, which was used +also for a church; and in a very short time the new country began to +look like an old one. + +Comparatively few of the first settlers suffered from serious +accidents. One of our neighbors had a finger shot off, and on a bitter, +frosty night had to be taken to a surgeon in Portage, in a sled drawn +by slow, plodding oxen, to have the shattered stump dressed. Another +fell from his wagon and was killed by the wheel passing over his body. +An acre of ground was reserved and fenced for graves, and soon +consumption came to fill it. One of the saddest instances was that of a +Scotch family from Edinburgh, consisting of a father, son, and +daughter, who settled on eighty acres of land within half a mile of our +place. The daughter died of consumption the third year after their +arrival, the son one or two years later, and at last the father +followed his two children. Thus sadly ended bright hopes and dreams of +a happy home in rich and free America. + +Another neighbor, I remember, after a lingering illness died of the +same disease in midwinter, and his funeral was attended by the +neighbors in sleighs during a driving snowstorm when the thermometer +was fifteen or twenty degrees below zero. The great white plague +carried off another of our near neighbors, a fine Scotchman, the father +of eight promising boys, when he was only about forty-five years of +age. Most of those who suffered from this disease seemed hopeful and +cheerful up to a very short time before their death, but Mr. Reid, I +remember, on one of his last visits to our house, said with brave +resignation: “I know that never more in this world can I be well, but I +must just submit. I must just submit.” + +One of the saddest deaths from other causes than consumption was that +of a poor feeble-minded man whose brother, a sturdy, devout, severe +puritan, was a very hard taskmaster. Poor half-witted Charlie was kept +steadily at work,—although he was not able to do much, for his body was +about as feeble as his mind. He never could be taught the right use of +an axe, and when he was set to chopping down trees for firewood he +feebly hacked and chipped round and round them, sometimes spending +several days in nibbling down a tree that a beaver might have gnawed +down in half the time. Occasionally when he had an extra large tree to +chop, he would go home and report that the tree was too tough and +strong for him and that he could never make it fall. Then his brother, +calling him a useless creature, would fell it with a few well-directed +strokes, and leave Charlie to nibble away at it for weeks trying to +make it into stove-wood. + +His guardian brother, delighting in hard work and able for anything, +was as remarkable for strength of body and mind as poor Charlie for +childishness. All the neighbors pitied Charlie, especially the women, +who never missed an opportunity to give him kind words, cookies, and +pie; above all, they bestowed natural sympathy on the poor imbecile as +if he were an unfortunate motherless child. In particular, his nearest +neighbors, Scotch Highlanders, warmly welcomed him to their home and +never wearied in doing everything that tender sympathy could suggest. +To those friends he ran gladly at every opportunity. But after years of +suffering from overwork and illness his feeble health failed, and he +told his Scotch friends one day that he was not able to work any more +or do anything that his brother wanted him to do, that he was tired of +life, and that he had come to thank them for their kindness and to bid +them good-bye, for he was going to drown himself in Muir’s lake. “Oh, +Charlie! Charlie!” they cried, “you mustn’t talk that way. Cheer up! +You will soon be stronger. We all love you. Cheer up! Cheer up! And +always come here whenever you need anything.” + +“Oh, no! my friends,” he pathetically replied, “I know you love me, but +I can’t cheer up any more. My heart’s gone, and I want to die.” + +Next day, when Mr. Anderson, a carpenter whose house was on the west +shore of our lake, was going to a spring he saw a man wade out through +the rushes and lily-pads and throw himself forward into deep water. +This was poor Charlie. Fortunately, Mr. Anderson had a skiff close by, +and as the distance was not great he reached the broken-hearted +imbecile in time to save his life, and after trying to cheer him took +him home to his brother. But even this terrible proof of despair failed +to soften his brother. He seemed to regard the attempt at suicide +simply as a crime calculated to bring harm to religion. Though snatched +from the lake to his bed, poor Charlie lived only a few days longer. A +physician who was called when his health first became seriously +impaired reported that he was suffering from Bright’s disease. After +all was over, the stoical brother walked over to the neighbor who had +saved Charlie from drowning, and, after talking on ordinary affairs, +crops, the weather, etc., said in a careless tone: “I have a little job +of carpenter work for you, Mr. Anderson.” “What is it, Mr. ——?” “I want +you to make a coffin.” “A coffin!” said the startled carpenter. “Who is +dead?” “Charlie,” he coolly replied. All the neighbors were in tears +over the poor child man’s fate. But, strange to say, the brother who +had faithfully cared for him controlled and concealed all his natural +affection as incompatible with sound faith. + +The mixed lot of settlers around us offered a favorable field for +observation of the different kinds of people of our own race. We were +swift to note the way they behaved, the differences in their religion +and morals, and in their ways of drawing a living from the same kind of +soil under the same general conditions; how they protected themselves +from the weather; how they were influenced by new doctrines and old +ones seen in new lights in preaching, lecturing, debating, bringing up +their children, etc., and how they regarded the Indians, those first +settlers and owners of the ground that was being made into farms. + +I well remember my father’s discussing with a Scotch neighbor, a Mr. +George Mair, the Indian question as to the rightful ownership of the +soil. Mr. Mair remarked one day that it was pitiful to see how the +unfortunate Indians, children of Nature, living on the natural products +of the soil, hunting, fishing, and even cultivating small corn-fields +on the most fertile spots, were now being robbed of their lands and +pushed ruthlessly back into narrower and narrower limits by alien races +who were cutting off their means of livelihood. Father replied that +surely it could never have been the intention of God to allow Indians +to rove and hunt over so fertile a country and hold it forever in +unproductive wildness, while Scotch and Irish and English farmers could +put it to so much better use. Where an Indian required thousands of +acres for his family, these acres in the hands of industrious, +God-fearing farmers would support ten or a hundred times more people in +a far worthier manner, while at the same time helping to spread the +gospel. + +Mr. Mair urged that such farming as our first immigrants were +practicing was in many ways rude and full of the mistakes of ignorance, +yet, rude as it was, and ill-tilled as were most of our Wisconsin farms +by unskillful, inexperienced settlers who had been merchants and +mechanics and servants in the old countries, how should we like to have +specially trained and educated farmers drive us out of our homes and +farms, such as they were, making use of the same argument, that God +could never have intended such ignorant, unprofitable, devastating +farmers as we were to occupy land upon which scientific farmers could +raise five or ten times as much on each acre as we did? And I well +remember thinking that Mr. Mair had the better side of the argument. It +then seemed to me that, whatever the final outcome might be, it was at +this stage of the fight only an example of the rule of might with but +little or no thought for the right or welfare of the other fellow if he +were the weaker; that “they should take who had the power, and they +should keep who can,” as Wordsworth makes the marauding Scottish +Highlanders say. + +Many of our old neighbors toiled and sweated and grubbed themselves +into their graves years before their natural dying days, in getting a +living on a quarter-section of land and vaguely trying to get rich, +while bread and raiment might have been serenely won on less than a +fourth of this land, and time gained to get better acquainted with God. + +I was put to the plough at the age of twelve, when my head reached but +little above the handles, and for many years I had to do the greater +part of the ploughing. It was hard work for so small a boy; +nevertheless, as good ploughing was exacted from me as if I were a man, +and very soon I had to become a good ploughman, or rather ploughboy. +None could draw a straighter furrow. For the first few years the work +was particularly hard on account of the tree-stumps that had to be +dodged. Later the stumps were all dug and chopped out to make way for +the McCormick reaper, and because I proved to be the best chopper and +stump-digger I had nearly all of it to myself. It was dull, hard work +leaning over on my knees all day, chopping out those tough oak and +hickory stumps, deep down below the crowns of the big roots. Some, +though fortunately not many, were two feet or more in diameter. + +And as I was the eldest boy, the greater part of all the other hard +work of the farm quite naturally fell on me. I had to split rails for +long lines of zigzag fences. The trees that were tall enough and +straight enough to afford one or two logs ten feet long were used for +rails, the others, too knotty or cross-grained, were disposed of in log +and cordwood fences. Making rails was hard work and required no little +skill. I used to cut and split a hundred a day from our short, knotty +oak timber, swinging the axe and heavy mallet, often with sore hands, +from early morning to night. Father was not successful as a +rail-splitter. After trying the work with me a day or two, he in +despair left it all to me. I rather liked it, for I was proud of my +skill, and tried to believe that I was as tough as the timber I mauled, +though this and other heavy jobs stopped my growth and earned for me +the title “Runt of the family.” + +In those early days, long before the great labor-saving machines came +to our help, almost everything connected with wheat-raising abounded in +trying work,—cradling in the long, sweaty dog-days, raking and binding, +stacking, thrashing,—and it often seemed to me that our fierce, +over-industrious way of getting the grain from the ground was too +closely connected with grave-digging. The staff of life, naturally +beautiful, oftentimes suggested the grave-digger’s spade. Men and boys, +and in those days even women and girls, were cut down while cutting the +wheat. The fat folk grew lean and the lean leaner, while the rosy +cheeks brought from Scotland and other cool countries across the sea +faded to yellow like the wheat. We were all made slaves through the +vice of over-industry. The same was in great part true in making hay to +keep the cattle and horses through the long winters. We were called in +the morning at four o’clock and seldom got to bed before nine, making a +broiling, seething day seventeen hours long loaded with heavy work, +while I was only a small stunted boy; and a few years later my brothers +David and Daniel and my older sisters had to endure about as much as I +did. In the harvest dog-days and dog-nights and dog-mornings, when we +arose from our clammy beds, our cotton shirts clung to our backs as wet +with sweat as the bathing-suits of swimmers, and remained so all the +long, sweltering days. In mowing and cradling, the most exhausting of +all the farm work, I made matters worse by foolish ambition in keeping +ahead of the hired men. Never a warning word was spoken of the dangers +of over-work. On the contrary, even when sick we were held to our tasks +as long as we could stand. Once in harvest-time I had the mumps and was +unable to swallow any food except milk, but this was not allowed to +make any difference, while I staggered with weakness and sometimes fell +headlong among the sheaves. Only once was I allowed to leave the +harvest-field—when I was stricken down with pneumonia. I lay gasping +for weeks, but the Scotch are hard to kill and I pulled through. No +physician was called, for father was an enthusiast, and always said and +believed that God and hard work were by far the best doctors. + +None of our neighbors were so excessively industrious as father; though +nearly all of the Scotch, English, and Irish worked too hard, trying to +make good homes and to lay up money enough for comfortable +independence. Excepting small garden-patches, few of them had owned +land in the old country. Here their craving land-hunger was satisfied, +and they were naturally proud of their farms and tried to keep them as +neat and clean and well-tilled as gardens. To accomplish this without +the means for hiring help was impossible. Flowers were planted about +the neatly kept log or frame houses; barnyards, granaries, etc., were +kept in about as neat order as the homes, and the fences and corn-rows +were rigidly straight. But every uncut weed distressed them; so also +did every ungathered ear of grain, and all that was lost by birds and +gophers; and this overcarefulness bred endless work and worry. + +As for money, for many a year there was precious little of it in the +country for anybody. Eggs sold at six cents a dozen in trade, and +five-cent calico was exchanged at twenty-five cents a yard. Wheat +brought fifty cents a bushel in trade. To get cash for it before the +Portage Railway was built, it had to be hauled to Milwaukee, a hundred +miles away. On the other hand, food was abundant,—eggs, chickens, pigs, +cattle, wheat, corn, potatoes, garden vegetables of the best, and +wonderful melons as luxuries. No other wild country I have ever known +extended a kinder welcome to poor immigrants. On the arrival in the +spring, a log house could be built, a few acres ploughed, the virgin +sod planted with corn, potatoes, etc., and enough raised to keep a +family comfortably the very first year; and wild hay for cows and oxen +grew in abundance on the numerous meadows. The American settlers were +wisely content with smaller fields and less of everything, kept indoors +during excessively hot or cold weather, rested when tired, went off +fishing and hunting at the most favorable times and seasons of the day +and year, gathered nuts and berries, and in general tranquilly accepted +all the good things the fertile wilderness offered. + +After eight years of this dreary work of clearing the Fountain Lake +farm, fencing it and getting it in perfect order, building a frame +house and the necessary outbuildings for the cattle and horses,—after +all this had been victoriously accomplished, and we had made out to +escape with life,—father bought a half-section of wild land about four +or five miles to the eastward and began all over again to clear and +fence and break up other fields for a new farm, doubling all the +stunting, heartbreaking chopping, grubbing, stump-digging, +rail-splitting, fence-building, barn-building, house-building, and so +forth. + +By this time I had learned to run the breaking plough. Most of these +ploughs were very large, turning furrows from eighteen inches to two +feet wide, and were drawn by four or five yoke of oxen. They were used +only for the first ploughing, in breaking up the wild sod woven into a +tough mass, chiefly by the cordlike roots of perennial grasses, +reinforced by the tap-roots of oak and hickory bushes, called “grubs,” +some of which were more than a century old and four or five inches in +diameter. In the hardest ploughing on the most difficult ground, the +grubs were said to be as thick as the hair on a dog’s back. If in good +trim, the plough cut through and turned over these grubs as if the +century-old wood were soft like the flesh of carrots and turnips; but +if not in good trim the grubs promptly tossed the plough out of the +ground. A stout Highland Scot, our neighbor, whose plough was in bad +order and who did not know how to trim it, was vainly trying to keep it +in the ground by main strength, while his son, who was driving and +merrily whipping up the cattle, would cry encouragingly, “Haud her in, +fayther! Haud her in!” + +“But hoo i’ the deil can I haud her in when she’ll no _stop_ in?” his +perspiring father would reply, gasping for breath between each word. On +the contrary, with the share and coulter sharp and nicely adjusted, the +plough, instead of shying at every grub and jumping out, ran straight +ahead without need of steering or holding, and gripped the ground so +firmly that it could hardly be thrown out at the end of the furrow. + +Our breaker turned a furrow two feet wide, and on our best land, where +the sod was toughest, held so firm a grip that at the end of the field +my brother, who was driving the oxen, had to come to my assistance in +throwing it over on its side to be drawn around the end of the landing; +and it was all I could do to set it up again. But I learned to keep +that plough in such trim that after I got started on a new furrow I +used to ride on the crossbar between the handles with my feet resting +comfortably on the beam, without having to steady or steer it in any +way on the whole length of the field, unless we had to go round a +stump, for it sawed through the biggest grubs without flinching. + +The growth of these grubs was interesting to me. When an acorn or +hickory-nut had sent up its first season’s sprout, a few inches long, +it was burned off in the autumn grass fires; but the root continued to +hold on to life, formed a callus over the wound and sent up one or more +shoots the next spring. Next autumn these new shoots were burned off, +but the root and calloused head, about level with the surface of the +ground, continued to grow and send up more new shoots; and so on, +almost every year until very old, probably far more than a century, +while the tops, which would naturally have become tall broad-headed +trees, were only mere sprouts seldom more than two years old. Thus the +ground was kept open like a prairie, with only five or six trees to the +acre, which had escaped the fire by having the good fortune to grow on +a bare spot at the door of a fox or badger den, or between straggling +grass-tufts wide apart on the poorest sandy soil. + +The uniformly rich soil of the Illinois and Wisconsin prairies produced +so close and tall a growth of grasses for fires that no tree could live +on it. Had there been no fires, these fine prairies, so marked a +feature of the country, would have been covered by the heaviest +forests. As soon as the oak openings in our neighborhood were settled, +and the farmers had prevented running grass-fires, the grubs grew up +into trees and formed tall thickets so dense that it was difficult to +walk through them and every trace of the sunny “openings” vanished. + + +THE HICKORY HILL HOUSE, BUILT IN 1857 +THE HICKORY HILL HOUSE, BUILT IN 1857ToList + +We called our second farm Hickory Hill, from its many fine hickory +trees and the long gentle slope leading up to it. Compared with +Fountain Lake farm it lay high and dry. The land was better, but it had +no living water, no spring or stream or meadow or lake. A well ninety +feet deep had to be dug, all except the first ten feet or so in +fine-grained sandstone. When the sandstone was struck, my father, on +the advice of a man who had worked in mines, tried to blast the rock; +but from lack of skill the blasting went on very slowly, and father +decided to have me do all the work with mason’s chisels, a long, hard +job, with a good deal of danger in it. I had to sit cramped in a space +about three feet in diameter, and wearily chip, chip, with heavy hammer +and chisels from early morning until dark, day after day, for weeks and +months. In the morning, father and David lowered me in a wooden bucket +by a windlass, hauled up what chips were left from the night before, +then went away to the farm work and left me until noon, when they +hoisted me out for dinner. After dinner I was promptly lowered again, +the forenoon’s accumulation of chips hoisted out of the way, and I was +left until night. + +One morning, after the dreary bore was about eighty feet deep, my life +was all but lost in deadly choke-damp,—carbonic acid gas that had +settled at the bottom during the night. Instead of clearing away the +chips as usual when I was lowered to the bottom, I swayed back and +forth and began to sink under the poison. Father, alarmed that I did +not make any noise, shouted, “What’s keeping you so still?” to which he +got no reply. Just as I was settling down against the side of the wall, +I happened to catch a glimpse of a branch of a bur-oak tree which +leaned out over the mouth of the shaft. This suddenly awakened me, and +to father’s excited shouting I feebly murmured, “Take me out.” But when +he began to hoist he found I was not in the bucket and in wild alarm +shouted, “Get in! Get in the bucket and hold on! Hold on!” Somehow I +managed to get into the bucket, and that is all I remembered until I +was dragged out, violently gasping for breath. + +One of our near neighbors, a stone mason and miner by the name of +William Duncan, came to see me, and after hearing the particulars of +the accident he solemnly said: “Weel, Johnnie, it’s God’s mercy that +you’re alive. Many a companion of mine have I seen dead with +choke-damp, but none that I ever saw or heard of was so near to death +in it as you were and escaped without help.” Mr. Duncan taught father +to throw water down the shaft to absorb the gas, and also to drop a +bundle of brush or hay attached to a light rope, dropping it again and +again to carry down pure air and stir up the poison. When, after a day +or two, I had recovered from the shock, father lowered me again to my +work, after taking the precaution to test the air with a candle and +stir it up well with a brush-and-hay bundle. The weary +hammer-and-chisel-chipping went on as before, only more slowly, until +ninety feet down, when at last I struck a fine, hearty gush of water. +Constant dropping wears away stone. So does constant chipping, while at +the same time wearing away the chipper. Father never spent an hour in +that well. He trusted me to sink it straight and plumb, and I did, and +built a fine covered top over it, and swung two iron-bound buckets in +it from which we all drank for many a day. + +The honey-bee arrived in America long before we boys did, but several +years passed ere we noticed any on our farm. The introduction of the +honey-bee into flowery America formed a grand epoch in bee history. +This sweet humming creature, companion and friend of the flowers, is +now distributed over the greater part of the continent, filling +countless hollows in rocks and trees with honey as well as the millions +of hives prepared for them by honey-farmers, who keep and tend their +flocks of sweet winged cattle, as shepherds keep sheep,—a charming +employment, “like directing sunbeams,” as Thoreau says. The Indians +call the honey-bee the white man’s fly; and though they had long been +acquainted with several species of bumblebees that yielded more or less +honey, how gladly surprised they must have been when they discovered +that, in the hollow trees where before they had found only coons or +squirrels, they found swarms of brown flies with fifty or even a +hundred pounds of honey sealed up in beautiful cells. With their keen +hunting senses they of course were not slow to learn the habits of the +little brown immigrants and the best methods of tracing them to their +sweet homes, however well hidden. During the first few years none were +seen on our farm, though we sometimes heard father’s hired men talking +about “lining bees.” None of us boys ever found a bee tree, or tried to +find any until about ten years after our arrival in the woods. On the +Hickory Hill farm there is a ridge of moraine material, rather dry, but +flowery with goldenrods and asters of many species, upon which we saw +bees feeding in the late autumn just when their hives were fullest of +honey, and it occurred to me one day after I was of age and my own +master that I must try to find a bee tree. I made a little box about +six inches long and four inches deep and wide; bought half a pound of +honey, went to the goldenrod hill, swept a bee into the box and closed +it. The lid had a pane of glass in it so I could see when the bee had +sucked its fill and was ready to go home. At first it groped around +trying to get out, but, smelling the honey, it seemed to forget +everything else, and while it was feasting I carried the box and a +small sharp-pointed stake to an open spot, where I could see about me, +fixed the stake in the ground, and placed the box on the flat top of +it. When I thought that the little feaster must be about full, I opened +the box, but it was in no hurry to fly. It slowly crawled up to the +edge of the box, lingered a minute or two cleaning its legs that had +become sticky with honey, and when it took wing, instead of making what +is called a bee-line for home, it buzzed around the box and minutely +examined it as if trying to fix a clear picture of it in its mind so as +to be able to recognize it when it returned for another load, then +circled around at a little distance as if looking for something to +locate it by. I was the nearest object, and the thoughtful worker +buzzed in front of my face and took a good stare at me, and then flew +up on to the top of an oak on the side of the open spot in the centre +of which the honey-box was. Keeping a keen watch, after a minute or two +of rest or wing-cleaning, I saw it fly in wide circles round the tops +of the trees nearest the honey-box, and, after apparently satisfying +itself, make a bee-line for the hive. Looking endwise on the line of +flight, I saw that what is called a bee-line is not an absolutely +straight line, but a line in general straight made of many slight, +wavering, lateral curves. After taking as true a bearing as I could, I +waited and watched. In a few minutes, probably ten, I was surprised to +see that bee arrive at the end of the outleaning limb of the oak +mentioned above, as though that was the first point it had fixed in its +memory to be depended on in retracing the way back to the honey-box. +From the tree-top it came straight to my head, thence straight to the +box, entered without the least hesitation, filled up and started off +after the same preparatory dressing and taking of bearings as before. +Then I took particular pains to lay down the exact course so I would be +able to trace it to the hive. Before doing so, however, I made an +experiment to test the worth of the impression I had that the little +insect found the way back to the box by fixing telling points in its +mind. While it was away, I picked up the honey-box and set it on the +stake a few rods from the position it had thus far occupied, and stood +there watching. In a few minutes I saw the bee arrive at its +guide-mark, the overleaning branch on the tree-top, and thence came +bouncing down right to the spaces in the air which had been occupied by +my head and the honey-box, and when the cunning little honey-gleaner +found nothing there but empty air it whirled round and round as if +confused and lost; and although I was standing with the open honey-box +within fifty or sixty feet of the former feasting-spot, it could not, +or at least did not, find it. + +Now that I had learned the general direction of the hive, I pushed on +in search of it. I had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile when I caught +another bee, which, after getting loaded, went through the same +performance of circling round and round the honey-box, buzzing in front +of me and staring me in the face to be able to recognize me; but as if +the adjacent trees and bushes were sufficiently well known, it simply +looked around at them and bolted off without much dressing, indicating, +I thought, that the distance to the hive was not great. I followed on +and very soon discovered it in the bottom log of a corn-field fence, +but some lucky fellow had discovered it before me and robbed it. The +robbers had chopped a large hole in the log, taken out most of the +honey, and left the poor bees late in the fall, when winter was +approaching, to make haste to gather all the honey they could from the +latest flowers to avoid starvation in the winter. + + + + +VIIToC + +KNOWLEDGE AND INVENTIONS + +Hungry for Knowledge—Borrowing Books—Paternal Opposition—Snatched +Moments—Early Rising proves a Way out of Difficulties—The Cellar +Workshop—Inventions—An Early-Rising Machine—Novel Clocks—Hygrometers, +etc.—A Neighbor’s Advice. + + +I learned arithmetic in Scotland without understanding any of it, +though I had the rules by heart. But when I was about fifteen or +sixteen years of age, I began to grow hungry for real knowledge, and +persuaded father, who was willing enough to have me study provided my +farm work was kept up, to buy me a higher arithmetic. Beginning at the +beginning, in one summer I easily finished it without assistance, in +the short intervals between the end of dinner and the afternoon start +for the harvest-and hay-fields, accomplishing more without a teacher in +a few scraps of time than in years in school before my mind was ready +for such work. Then in succession I took up algebra, geometry, and +trigonometry and made some little progress in each, and reviewed +grammar. I was fond of reading, but father had brought only a few +religious books from Scotland. Fortunately, several of our neighbors +had brought a dozen or two of all sorts of books, which I borrowed and +read, keeping all of them except the religious ones carefully hidden +from father’s eye. Among these were Scott’s novels, which, like all +other novels, were strictly forbidden, but devoured with glorious +pleasure in secret. Father was easily persuaded to buy Josephus’ “Wars +of the Jews,” and D’Aubigné’s “History of the Reformation,” and I tried +hard to get him to buy Plutarch’s Lives, which, as I told him, +everybody, even religious people, praised as a grand good book; but he +would have nothing to do with the old pagan until the graham bread and +anti-flesh doctrines came suddenly into our backwoods neighborhood, +making a stir something like phrenology and spirit-rappings, which were +as mysterious in their attacks as influenza. He then thought it +possible that Plutarch might be turned to account on the food question +by revealing what those old Greeks and Romans ate to make them strong; +and so at last we gained our glorious Plutarch. Dick’s “Christian +Philosopher,” which I borrowed from a neighbor, I thought I might +venture to read in the open, trusting that the word “Christian” would +be proof against its cautious condemnation. But father balked at the +word “Philosopher,” and quoted from the Bible a verse which spoke of +“philosophy falsely so-called.” I then ventured to speak in defense of +the book, arguing that we could not do without at least a little of the +most useful kinds of philosophy. + +“Yes, we can,” he said with enthusiasm, “the Bible is the only book +human beings can possibly require throughout all the journey from earth +to heaven.” + +“But how,” I contended, “can we find the way to heaven without the +Bible, and how after we grow old can we read the Bible without a little +helpful science? Just think, father, you cannot read your Bible without +spectacles, and millions of others are in the same fix; and spectacles +cannot be made without some knowledge of the science of optics.” + +“Oh!” he replied, perceiving the drift of the argument, “there will +always be plenty of worldly people to make spectacles.” + +To this I stubbornly replied with a quotation from the Bible with +reference to the time coming when “all shall know the Lord from the +least even to the greatest,” and then who will make the spectacles? But +he still objected to my reading that book, called me a contumacious +quibbler too fond of disputation, and ordered me to return it to the +accommodating owner. I managed, however, to read it later. + +On the food question father insisted that those who argued for a +vegetable diet were in the right, because our teeth showed plainly that +they were made with reference to fruit and grain and not for flesh like +those of dogs and wolves and tigers. He therefore promptly adopted a +vegetable diet and requested mother to make the bread from graham flour +instead of bolted flour. Mother put both kinds on the table, and meat +also, to let all the family take their choice, and while father was +insisting on the foolishness of eating flesh, I came to her help by +calling father’s attention to the passage in the Bible which told the +story of Elijah the prophet who, when he was pursued by enemies who +wanted to take his life, was hidden by the Lord by the brook Cherith, +and fed by ravens; and surely the Lord knew what was good to eat, +whether bread or meat. And on what, I asked, did the Lord feed Elijah? +On vegetables or graham bread? No, he directed the ravens to feed his +prophet on flesh. The Bible being the sole rule, father at once +acknowledged that he was mistaken. The Lord never would have sent flesh +to Elijah by the ravens if graham bread were better. + +I remember as a great and sudden discovery that the poetry of the +Bible, Shakespeare, and Milton was a source of inspiring, exhilarating, +uplifting pleasure; and I became anxious to know all the poets, and +saved up small sums to buy as many of their books as possible. Within +three or four years I was the proud possessor of parts of +Shakespeare’s, Milton’s, Cowper’s, Henry Kirke White’s, Campbell’s, and +Akenside’s works, and quite a number of others seldom read nowadays. I +think it was in my fifteenth year that I began to relish good +literature with enthusiasm, and smack my lips over favorite lines, but +there was desperately little time for reading, even in the winter +evenings,—only a few stolen minutes now and then. Father’s strict rule +was, straight to bed immediately after family worship, which in winter +was usually over by eight o’clock. I was in the habit of lingering in +the kitchen with a book and candle after the rest of the family had +retired, and considered myself fortunate if I got five minutes’ reading +before father noticed the light and ordered me to bed; an order that of +course I immediately obeyed. But night after night I tried to steal +minutes in the same lingering way, and how keenly precious those +minutes were, few nowadays can know. Father failed perhaps two or three +times in a whole winter to notice my light for nearly ten minutes, +magnificent golden blocks of time, long to be remembered like holidays +or geological periods. One evening when I was reading Church history +father was particularly irritable, and called out with hope-killing +emphasis, “_John go to bed!_ Must I give you a separate order every +night to get you to go to bed? Now, I will have no irregularity in the +family; you _must_ go when the rest go, and without my having to tell +you.” Then, as an afterthought, as if judging that his words and tone +of voice were too severe for so pardonable an offense as reading a +religious book he unwarily added: “If you _will_ read, get up in the +morning and read. You may get up in the morning as early as you like.” + +That night I went to bed wishing with all my heart and soul that +somebody or something might call me out of sleep to avail myself of +this wonderful indulgence; and next morning to my joyful surprise I +awoke before father called me. A boy sleeps soundly after working all +day in the snowy woods, but that frosty morning I sprang out of bed as +if called by a trumpet blast, rushed downstairs, scarce feeling my +chilblains, enormously eager to see how much time I had won; and when I +held up my candle to a little clock that stood on a bracket in the +kitchen I found that it was only one o’clock. I had gained five hours, +almost half a day “Five hours to myself!” I said, “five huge, solid +hours!” I can hardly think of any other event in my life, any discovery +I ever made that gave birth to joy so transportingly glorious as the +possession of these five frosty hours. + +In the glad, tumultuous excitement of so much suddenly acquired +time-wealth, I hardly knew what to do with it. I first thought of going +on with my reading, but the zero weather would make a fire necessary, +and it occurred to me that father might object to the cost of firewood +that took time to chop. Therefore, I prudently decided to go down +cellar, and begin work on a model of a self-setting sawmill I had +invented. Next morning I managed to get up at the same gloriously early +hour, and though the temperature of the cellar was a little below the +freezing point, and my light was only a tallow candle the mill work +went joyfully on. There were a few tools in a corner of the cellar,—a +vise, files, a hammer, chisels, etc., that father had brought from +Scotland, but no saw excepting a coarse crooked one that was unfit for +sawing dry hickory or oak. So I made a fine-tooth saw suitable for my +work out of a strip of steel that had formed part of an old-fashioned +corset, that cut the hardest wood smoothly. I also made my own +bradawls, punches, and a pair of compasses, out of wire and old files. + +My workshop was immediately under father’s bed, and the filing and +tapping in making cogwheels, journals, cams, etc., must, no doubt, have +annoyed him, but with the permission he had granted in his mind, and +doubtless hoping that I would soon tire of getting up at one o’clock, +he impatiently waited about two weeks before saying a word. I did not +vary more than five minutes from one o’clock all winter, nor did I feel +any bad effects whatever, nor did I think at all about the subject as +to whether so little sleep might be in any way injurious; it was a +grand triumph of will-power over cold and common comfort and +work-weariness in abruptly cutting down my ten hours’ allowance of +sleep to five. I simply felt that I was rich beyond anything I could +have dreamed of or hoped for. I was far more than happy. Like Tam o’ +Shanter I was glorious, “O’er a’ the ills o’ life victorious.” + +Father, as was customary in Scotland, gave thanks and asked a blessing +before meals, not merely as a matter of form and decent Christian +manners, for he regarded food as a gift derived directly from the hands +of the Father in heaven. Therefore every meal to him was a sacrament +requiring conduct and attitude of mind not unlike that befitting the +Lord’s Supper. No idle word was allowed to be spoken at our table, much +less any laughing or fun or story-telling. When we were at the +breakfast-table, about two weeks after the great golden time-discovery, +father cleared his throat preliminary, as we all knew, to saying +something considered important. I feared that it was to be on the +subject of my early rising, and dreaded the withdrawal of the +permission he had granted on account of the noise I made, but still +hoping that, as he had given his word that I might get up as early as I +wished, he would as a Scotchman stand to it, even though it was given +in an unguarded moment and taken in a sense unreasonably far-reaching. +The solemn sacramental silence was broken by the dreaded question:— + +“John, what time is it when you get up in the morning?” + +“About one o’clock,” I replied in a low, meek, guilty tone of voice. + +“And what kind of a time is that, getting up in the middle of the night +and disturbing the whole family?” + +I simply reminded him of the permission he had freely granted me to get +up as early as I wished. + +“I _know_ it,” he said, in an almost agonized tone of voice, “I _know_ +I gave you that miserable permission, but I never imagined that you +would get up in the middle of the night.” + +To this I cautiously made no reply, but continued to listen for the +heavenly one-o’clock call, and it never failed. + +After completing my self-setting sawmill I dammed one of the streams in +the meadow and put the mill in operation. This invention was speedily +followed by a lot of others,—water-wheels, curious doorlocks and +latches, thermometers, hygrometers, pyrometers, clocks, a barometer, an +automatic contrivance for feeding the horses at any required hour, a +lamp-lighter and fire-lighter, an early-or-late-rising machine, and so +forth. + +After the sawmill was proved and discharged from my mind, I happened to +think it would be a fine thing to make a timekeeper which would tell +the day of the week and the day of the month, as well as strike like a +common clock and point out the hours; also to have an attachment +whereby it could be connected with a bedstead to set me on my feet at +any hour in the morning; also to start fires, light lamps, etc. I had +learned the time laws of the pendulum from a book, but with this +exception I knew nothing of timekeepers, for I had never seen the +inside of any sort of clock or watch. After long brooding, the novel +clock was at length completed in my mind, and was tried and found to be +durable and to work well and look well before I had begun to build it +in wood. I carried small parts of it in my pocket to whittle at when I +was out at work on the farm, using every spare or stolen moment within +reach without father’s knowing anything about it. In the middle of +summer, when harvesting was in progress, the novel time-machine was +nearly completed. It was hidden upstairs in a spare bedroom where some +tools were kept. I did the making and mending on the farm, but one day +at noon, when I happened to be away, father went upstairs for a hammer +or something and discovered the mysterious machine back of the +bedstead. My sister Margaret saw him on his knees examining it, and at +the first opportunity whispered in my ear, “John, fayther saw that +thing you’re making upstairs.” None of the family knew what I was +doing, but they knew very well that all such work was frowned on by +father, and kindly warned me of any danger that threatened my plans. +The fine invention seemed doomed to destruction before its time-ticking +commenced, though I thought it handsome, had so long carried it in my +mind, and like the nest of Burns’s wee mousie it had cost me mony a +weary whittling nibble. When we were at dinner several days after the +sad discovery, father began to clear his throat to speak, and I feared +the doom of martyrdom was about to be pronounced on my grand clock. + +“John,” he inquired, “what is that thing you are making upstairs?” + +I replied in desperation that I didn’t know what to call it. + +“What! You mean to say you don’t know what you are trying to do?” + +“Oh, yes,” I said, “I know very well what I am doing.” + +“What, then, is the thing for?” + +“It’s for a lot of things,” I replied, “but getting people up early in +the morning is one of the main things it is intended for; therefore it +might perhaps be called an early-rising machine.” + +After getting up so extravagantly early, all the last memorable winter +to make a machine for getting up perhaps still earlier seemed so +ridiculous that he very nearly laughed. But after controlling himself +and getting command of a sufficiently solemn face and voice he said +severely, “Do you not think it is very wrong to waste your time on such +nonsense?” + +“No,” I said meekly, “I don’t think I’m doing any wrong.” + +“Well,” he replied, “I assure you I do; and if you were only half as +zealous in the study of religion as you are in contriving and whittling +these useless, nonsensical things, it would be infinitely better for +you. I want you to be like Paul, who said that he desired to know +nothing among men but Christ and Him crucified.” + +To this I made no reply, gloomily believing my fine machine was to be +burned, but still taking what comfort I could in realizing that anyhow +I had enjoyed inventing and making it. + +After a few days, finding that nothing more was to be said, and that +father after all had not had the heart to destroy it, all necessity for +secrecy being ended, I finished it in the half-hours that we had at +noon and set it in the parlor between two chairs, hung moraine boulders +that had come from the direction of Lake Superior on it for weights, +and set it running. We were then hauling grain into the barn. Father at +this period devoted himself entirely to the Bible and did no farm work +whatever. The clock had a good loud tick, and when he heard it strike, +one of my sisters told me that he left his study, went to the parlor, +got down on his knees and carefully examined the machinery, which was +all in plain sight, not being enclosed in a case. This he did +repeatedly, and evidently seemed a little proud of my ability to invent +and whittle such a thing, though careful to give no encouragement for +anything more of the kind in future. + +But somehow it seemed impossible to stop. Inventing and whittling +faster than ever, I made another hickory clock, shaped like a scythe to +symbolize the scythe of Father Time. The pendulum is a bunch of arrows +symbolizing the flight of time. It hangs on a leafless mossy oak snag +showing the effect of time, and on the snath is written, “All flesh is +grass.” This, especially the inscription, rather pleased father, and, +of course, mother and all my sisters and brothers admired it. Like the +first it indicates the days of the week and month, starts fires and +beds at any given hour and minute, and, though made more than fifty +years ago, is still a good timekeeper. + +My mind still running on clocks, I invented a big one like a town clock +with four dials, with the time-figures so large they could be read by +all our immediate neighbors as well as ourselves when at work in the +fields, and on the side next the house the days of the week and month +were indicated. It was to be placed on the peak of the barn roof. But +just as it was all but finished, father stopped me, saying that it +would bring too many people around the barn. I then asked permission to +put it on the top of a black-oak tree near the house. Studying the +larger main branches, I thought I could secure a sufficiently rigid +foundation for it, while the trimmed sprays and leaves would conceal +the angles of the cabin required to shelter the works from the weather, +and the two-second pendulum, fourteen feet long, could be snugly +encased on the side of the trunk. Nothing about the grand, useful +timekeeper, I argued, would disfigure the tree, for it would look +something like a big hawk’s nest. “But that,” he objected, “would draw +still bigger bothersome trampling crowds about the place, for who ever +heard of anything so queer as a big clock on the top of a tree?” So I +had to lay aside its big wheels and cams and rest content with the +pleasure of inventing it, and looking at it in my mind and listening to +the deep solemn throbbing of its long two-second pendulum with its two +old axes back to back for the bob. + +One of my inventions was a large thermometer made of an iron rod, about +three feet long and five eighths of an inch in diameter, that had +formed part of a wagon-box. The expansion and contraction of this rod +was multiplied by a series of levers made of strips of hoop iron. The +pressure of the rod against the levers was kept constant by a small +counterweight, so that the slightest change in the length of the rod +was instantly shown on a dial about three feet wide multiplied about +thirty-two thousand times. The zero-point was gained by packing the rod +in wet snow. The scale was so large that the big black hand on the +white-painted dial could be seen distinctly and the temperature read +while we were ploughing in the field below the house. The extremes of +heat and cold caused the hand to make several revolutions. The number +of these revolutions was indicated on a small dial marked on the larger +one. This thermometer was fastened on the side of the house, and was so +sensitive that when any one approached it within four or five feet the +heat radiated from the observer’s body caused the hand of the dial to +move so fast that the motion was plainly visible, and when he stepped +back, the hand moved slowly back to its normal position. It was +regarded as a great wonder by the neighbors and even by my own +all-Bible father. + + +THERMOMETER +THERMOMETERToList + + +SELF-SETTING SAWMILL +SELF-SETTING SAWMILL +Model built in cellarToList + +Boys are fond of the books of travelers, and I remember that one day, +after I had been reading Mungo Park’s travels in Africa, mother said: +“Weel, John, maybe you will travel like Park and Humboldt some day.” +Father overheard her and cried out in solemn deprecation, “Oh, Anne! +dinna put sic notions in the laddie’s heed.” But at this time there was +precious little need of such prayers. My brothers left the farm when +they came of age, but I stayed a year longer, loath to leave home. +Mother hoped I might be a minister some day; my sisters that I would be +a great inventor. I often thought I should like to be a physician, but +I saw no way of making money and getting the necessary education, +excepting as an inventor. So, as a beginning, I decided to try to get +into a big shop or factory and live a while among machines. But I was +naturally extremely shy and had been taught to have a poor opinion of +myself, as of no account, though all our neighbors encouragingly called +me a genius, sure to rise in the world. When I was talking over plans +one day with a friendly neighbor, he said: “Now, John, if you wish to +get into a machine-shop, just take some of your inventions to the State +Fair, and you may be sure that as soon as they are seen they will open +the door of any shop in the country for you. You will be welcomed +everywhere.” And when I doubtingly asked if people would care to look +at things made of wood, he said, “Made of wood! Made of wood! What does +it matter what they’re made of when they are so out-and-out original. +There’s nothing else like them in the world. That is what will attract +attention, and besides they’re mighty handsome things anyway to come +from the backwoods.” So I was encouraged to leave home and go at his +direction to the State Fair when it was being held in Madison. + + + + +VIIIToC + +THE WORLD AND THE UNIVERSITY + +Leaving Home—Creating a Sensation in Pardeeville—A Ride on a +Locomotive—At the State Fair in Madison—Employment in a Machine-Shop at +Prairie du Chien—Back to Madison—Entering the University—Teaching +School—First Lesson in Botany—More Inventions—The University of the +Wilderness. + + +When I told father that I was about to leave home, and inquired +whether, if I should happen to be in need of money, he would send me a +little, he said, “No; depend entirely on yourself.” Good advice, I +suppose, but surely needlessly severe for a bashful, home-loving boy +who had worked so hard. I had the gold sovereign that my grandfather +had given me when I left Scotland, and a few dollars, perhaps ten, that +I had made by raising a few bushels of grain on a little patch of sandy +abandoned ground. So when I left home to try the world I had only about +fifteen dollars in my pocket. + +Strange to say, father carefully taught us to consider ourselves very +poor worms of the dust, conceived in sin, etc., and devoutly believed +that quenching every spark of pride and self-confidence was a sacred +duty, without realizing that in so doing he might at the same time be +quenching everything else. Praise he considered most venomous, and +tried to assure me that when I was fairly out in the wicked world +making my own way I would soon learn that although I might have thought +him a hard taskmaster at times, strangers were far harder. On the +contrary, I found no lack of kindness and sympathy. All the baggage I +carried was a package made up of the two clocks and a small thermometer +made of a piece of old washboard, all three tied together, with no +covering or case of any sort, the whole looking like one very +complicated machine. + +The aching parting from mother and my sisters was, of course, hard to +bear. Father let David drive me down to Pardeeville, a place I had +never before seen, though it was only nine miles south of the Hickory +Hill home. When we arrived at the village tavern, it seemed deserted. +Not a single person was in sight. I set my clock baggage on the rickety +platform. David said good-bye and started for home, leaving me alone in +the world. The grinding noise made by the wagon in turning short +brought out the landlord, and the first thing that caught his eye was +my strange bundle. Then he looked at me and said, “Hello, young man, +what’s this?” + +“Machines,” I said, “for keeping time and getting up in the morning, +and so forth.” + +“Well! Well! That’s a mighty queer get-up. You must be a Down-East +Yankee. Where did you get the pattern for such a thing?” + +“In my head,” I said. + +Some one down the street happened to notice the landlord looking +intently at something and came up to see what it was. Three or four +people in that little village formed an attractive crowd, and in +fifteen or twenty minutes the greater part of the population of +Pardeeville stood gazing in a circle around my strange hickory +belongings. I kept outside of the circle to avoid being seen, and had +the advantage of hearing the remarks without being embarrassed. Almost +every one as he came up would say, “What’s that? What’s it for? Who +made it?” The landlord would answer them all alike, “Why, a young man +that lives out in the country somewhere made it, and he says it’s a +thing for keeping time, getting up in the morning, and something that I +didn’t understand. I don’t know what he meant.” “Oh, no!” one of the +crowd would say, “that can’t be. It’s for something else—something +mysterious. Mark my words, you’ll see all about it in the newspapers +some of these days.” A curious little fellow came running up the +street, joined the crowd, stood on tiptoe to get sight of the wonder, +quickly made up his mind, and shouted in crisp, confident, cock-crowing +style, “I know what that contraption’s for. It’s a machine for taking +the bones out of fish.” + +This was in the time of the great popular phrenology craze, when the +fences and barns along the roads throughout the country were plastered +with big skull-bump posters, headed, “Know Thyself,” and advising +everybody to attend schoolhouse lectures to have their heads explained +and be told what they were good for and whom they ought to marry. My +mechanical bundle seemed to bring a good deal of this phrenology to +mind, for many of the onlookers would say, “I wish I could see that +boy’s head,—he must have a tremendous bump of invention.” Others +complimented me by saying, “I wish I had that fellow’s head. I’d rather +have it than the best farm in the State.” + +I stayed overnight at this little tavern, waiting for a train. In the +morning I went to the station, and set my bundle on the platform. Along +came the thundering train, a glorious sight, the first train I had ever +waited for. When the conductor saw my queer baggage, he cried, “Hello! +What have we here?” + +“Inventions for keeping time, early rising, and so forth. May I take +them into the car with me?” + +“You can take them where you like,” he replied, “but you had better +give them to the baggage-master. If you take them into the car they +will draw a crowd and might get broken.” + +So I gave them to the baggage-master and made haste to ask the +conductor whether I might ride on the engine. He good-naturedly said: +“Yes, it’s the right place for you. Run ahead, and tell the engineer +what I say.” But the engineer bluntly refused to let me on, saying: “It +don’t matter what the conductor told you. _I_ say you can’t ride on my +engine.” + +By this time the conductor, standing ready to start his train, was +watching to see what luck I had, and when he saw me returning came +ahead to meet me. + +“The engineer won’t let me on,” I reported. + +“Won’t he?” said the kind conductor. “Oh! I guess he will. You come +down with me.” And so he actually took the time and patience to walk +the length of that long train to get me on to the engine. + +“Charlie,” said he, addressing the engineer, “don’t you ever take a +passenger?” + +“Very seldom,” he replied. + +“Anyhow, I wish you would take this young man on. He has the strangest +machines in the baggage-car I ever saw in my life. I believe he could +make a locomotive. He wants to see the engine running. Let him on.” +Then in a low whisper he told me to jump on, which I did gladly, the +engineer offering neither encouragement nor objection. + +As soon as the train was started, the engineer asked what the “strange +thing” the conductor spoke of really was. + +“Only inventions for keeping time, getting folk up in the morning, and +so forth,” I hastily replied, and before he could ask any more +questions I asked permission to go outside of the cab to see the +machinery. This he kindly granted, adding, “Be careful not to fall off, +and when you hear me whistling for a station you come back, because if +it is reported against me to the superintendent that I allow boys to +run all over my engine I might lose my job.” + +Assuring him that I would come back promptly, I went out and walked +along the foot-board on the side of the boiler, watching the +magnificent machine rushing through the landscapes as if glorying in +its strength like a living creature. While seated on the cow-catcher +platform, I seemed to be fairly flying, and the wonderful display of +power and motion was enchanting. This was the first time I had ever +been on a train, much less a locomotive, since I had left Scotland. +When I got to Madison, I thanked the kind conductor and engineer for my +glorious ride, inquired the way to the Fair, shouldered my inventions, +and walked to the Fair Ground. + +When I applied for an admission ticket at a window by the gate I told +the agent that I had something to exhibit. + +“What is it?” he inquired. + +“Well, here it is. Look at it.” + +When he craned his neck through the window and got a glimpse of my +bundle, he cried excitedly, “Oh! _you_ don’t need a ticket,—come right +in.” + +When I inquired of the agent where such things as mine should be +exhibited, he said, “You see that building up on the hill with a big +flag on it? That’s the Fine Arts Hall, and it’s just the place for your +wonderful invention.” + +So I went up to the Fine Arts Hall and looked in, wondering if they +would allow wooden things in so fine a place. + +I was met at the door by a dignified gentleman, who greeted me kindly +and said, “Young man, what have we got here?” + +“Two clocks and a thermometer,” I replied. + +“Did you make these? They look wonderfully beautiful and novel and +must, I think, prove the most interesting feature of the fair.” + +“Where shall I place them?” I inquired. + +“Just look around, young man, and choose the place you like best, +whether it is occupied or not. You can have your pick of all the +building, and a carpenter to make the necessary shelving and assist you +every way possible!” + +So I quickly had a shelf made large enough for all of them, went out on +the hill and picked up some glacial boulders of the right size for +weights, and in fifteen or twenty minutes the clocks were running. They +seemed to attract more attention than anything else in the hall I got +lots of praise from the crowd and the newspaper-reporters. The local +press reports were copied into the Eastern papers. It was considered +wonderful that a boy on a farm had been able to invent and make such +things, and almost every spectator foretold good fortune. But I had +been so lectured by my father above all things to avoid praise that I +was afraid to read those kind newspaper notices, and never clipped out +or preserved any of them, just glanced at them and turned away my eyes +from beholding vanity. They gave me a prize of ten or fifteen dollars +and a diploma for wonderful things not down in the list of exhibits. + +Many years later, after I had written articles and books, I received a +letter from the gentleman who had charge of the Fine Arts Hall. He +proved to be the Professor of English Literature in the University of +Wisconsin at this Fair time, and long afterward he sent me clippings of +reports of his lectures. He had a lecture on me, discussing style, +etcetera, and telling how well he remembered my arrival at the Hall in +my shirt-sleeves with those mechanical wonders on my shoulder, and so +forth, and so forth. These inventions, though of little importance, +opened all doors for me and made marks that have lasted many years, +simply, I suppose, because they were original and promising. + +I was looking around in the mean time to find out where I should go to +seek my fortune. An inventor at the Fair, by the name of Wiard, was +exhibiting an iceboat he had invented to run on the upper Mississippi +from Prairie du Chien to St. Paul during the winter months, explaining +how useful it would be thus to make a highway of the river while it was +closed to ordinary navigation by ice. After he saw my inventions he +offered me a place in his foundry and machine-shop in Prairie du Chien +and promised to assist me all he could. So I made up my mind to accept +his offer and rode with him to Prairie du Chien in his iceboat, which +was mounted on a flat car. I soon found, however, that he was seldom at +home and that I was not likely to learn much at his small shop. I found +a place where I could work for my board and devote my spare hours to +mechanical drawing, geometry, and physics, making but little headway, +however, although the Pelton family, for whom I worked, were very kind. +I made up my mind after a few months’ stay in Prairie du Chien to +return to Madison, hoping that in some way I might be able to gain an +education. + +At Madison I raised a few dollars by making and selling a few of those +bedsteads that set the sleepers on their feet in the morning,—inserting +in the footboard the works of an ordinary clock that could be bought +for a dollar. I also made a few dollars addressing circulars in an +insurance office, while at the same time I was paying my board by +taking care of a pair of horses and going errands. This is of no great +interest except that I was thus winning my bread while hoping that +something would turn up that might enable me to make money enough to +enter the State University. This was my ambition, and it never wavered +no matter what I was doing. No University, it seemed to me, could be +more admirably, situated, and as I sauntered about it, charmed with its +fine lawns and trees and beautiful lakes, and saw the students going +and coming with their books, and occasionally practising with a +theodolite in measuring distances, I thought that if I could only join +them it would be the greatest joy of life. I was desperately hungry and +thirsty for knowledge and willing to endure anything to get it. + +One day I chanced to meet a student who had noticed my inventions at +the Fair and now recognized me. And when I said, “You are fortunate +fellows to be allowed to study in this beautiful place. I wish I could +join you.” “Well, why don’t you?” he asked. “I haven’t money enough,” I +said. “Oh, as to money,” he reassuringly explained, “very little is +required. I presume you’re able to enter the Freshman class, and you +can board yourself as quite a number of us do at a cost of about a +dollar a week. The baker and milkman come every day. You can live on +bread and milk.” Well, I thought, maybe I have money enough for at +least one beginning term. Anyhow I couldn’t help trying. + +With fear and trembling, overladen with ignorance, I called on +Professor Stirling, the Dean of the Faculty, who was then Acting +President, presented my case, and told him how far I had got on with my +studies at home, and that I hadn’t been to school since leaving +Scotland at the age of eleven years, excepting one short term of a +couple of months at a district school, because I could not be spared +from the farm work. After hearing my story, the kind professor welcomed +me to the glorious University—next, it seemed to me, to the Kingdom of +Heaven. After a few weeks in the preparatory department I entered the +Freshman class. In Latin I found that one of the books in use I had +already studied in Scotland. So, after an interruption of a dozen +years, I began my Latin over again where I had left off; and, strange +to say, most of it came back to me, especially the grammar which I had +committed to memory at the Dunbar Grammar School. + +During the four years that I was in the University, I earned enough in +the harvest-fields during the long summer vacations to carry me through +the balance of each year, working very hard, cutting with a cradle four +acres of wheat a day, and helping to put it in the shock. But, having +to buy books and paying, I think, thirty-two dollars a year for +instruction, and occasionally buying acids and retorts, glass tubing, +bell-glasses, flasks, etc., I had to cut down expenses for board now +and then to half a dollar a week. + +One winter I taught school ten miles south of Madison, earning +much-needed money at the rate of twenty dollars a month, “boarding +round,” and keeping up my University work by studying at night. As I +was not then well enough off to own a watch, I used one of my hickory +clocks, not only for keeping time, but for starting the school fire in +the cold mornings, and regulating class-times. I carried it out on my +shoulder to the old log schoolhouse, and set it to work on a little +shelf nailed to one of the knotty, bulging logs. The winter was very +cold, and I had to go to the schoolhouse and start the fire about eight +o’clock to warm it before the arrival of the scholars. This was a +rather trying job, and one that my clock might easily be made to do. +Therefore, after supper one evening I told the head of the family with +whom I was boarding that if he would give me a candle I would go back +to the schoolhouse and make arrangements for lighting the fire at eight +o’clock, without my having to be present until time to open the school +at nine. He said, “Oh! young man, you have some curious things in the +school-room, but I don’t think you can do that.” I said, “Oh, yes! It’s +easy,” and in hardly more than an hour the simple job was completed. I +had only to place a teaspoonful of powdered chlorate of potash and +sugar on the stove-hearth near a few shavings and kindling, and at the +required time make the clock, through a simple arrangement, touch the +inflammable mixture with a drop of sulphuric acid. Every evening after +school was dismissed, I shoveled out what was left of the fire into the +snow, put in a little kindling, filled up the big box stove with heavy +oak wood, placed the lighting arrangement on the hearth, and set the +clock to drop the acid at the hour of eight; all this requiring only a +few minutes. + +The first morning after I had made this simple arrangement I invited +the doubting farmer to watch the old squat schoolhouse from a window +that overlooked it, to see if a good smoke did not rise from the +stovepipe. Sure enough, on the minute, he saw a tall column curling +gracefully up through the frosty air, but instead of congratulating me +on my success he solemnly shook his head and said in a hollow, +lugubrious voice, “Young man, you will be setting fire to the +schoolhouse.” All winter long that faithful clock fire never failed, +and by the time I got to the schoolhouse the stove was usually red-hot. + +At the beginning of the long summer vacations I returned to the Hickory +Hill farm to earn the means in the harvest-fields to continue my +University course, walking all the way to save railroad fares. And +although I cradled four acres of wheat a day, I made the long, hard, +sweaty day’s work still longer and harder by keeping up my study of +plants. At the noon hour I collected a large handful, put them in water +to keep them fresh, and after supper got to work on them and sat up +till after midnight, analyzing and classifying, thus leaving only four +hours for sleep; and by the end of the first year, after taking up +botany, I knew the principal flowering plants of the region. + +I received my first lesson in botany from a student by the name of +Griswold, who is now County Judge of the County of Waukesha, Wisconsin. +In the University he was often laughed at on account of his anxiety to +instruct others, and his frequently saying with fine emphasis, +“Imparting instruction is my greatest enjoyment.” One memorable day in +June, when I was standing on the stone steps of the north dormitory, +Mr. Griswold joined me and at once began to teach. He reached up, +plucked a flower from an overspreading branch of a locust tree, and, +handing it to me, said, “Muir, do you know what family this tree +belongs to?” + +“No,” I said, “I don’t know anything about botany.” + +“Well, no matter,” said he, “what is it like?” + +“It’s like a pea flower,” I replied. + +“That’s right. You’re right,” he said, “it belongs to the Pea Family.” + +“But how can that be,” I objected, “when the pea is a weak, clinging, +straggling herb, and the locust a big, thorny hardwood tree?” + +“Yes, that is true,” he replied, “as to the difference in size, but it +is also true that in all their essential characters they are alike, and +therefore they must belong to one and the same family. Just look at the +peculiar form of the locust flower; you see that the upper petal, +called the banner, is broad and erect, and so is the upper petal of the +pea flower; the two lower petals, called the wings, are outspread and +wing-shaped; so are those of the pea; and the two petals below the +wings are united on their edges, curve upward, and form what is called +the keel, and so you see are the corresponding petals of the pea +flower. And now look at the stamens and pistils. You see that nine of +the ten stamens have their filaments united into a sheath around the +pistil, but the tenth stamen has its filament free. These are very +marked characters, are they not? And, strange to say, you will find +them the same in the tree and in the vine. Now look at the ovules or +seeds of the locust, and you will see that they are arranged in a pod +or legume like those of the pea. And look at the leaves. You see the +leaf of the locust is made up of several leaflets, and so also is the +leaf of the pea. Now taste the locust leaf.” + +I did so and found that it tasted like the leaf of the pea. Nature has +used the same seasoning for both, though one is a straggling vine, the +other a big tree. + +“Now, surely you cannot imagine that all these similar characters are +mere coincidences. Do they not rather go to show that the Creator in +making the pea vine and locust tree had the same idea in mind, and that +plants are not classified arbitrarily? Man has nothing to do with their +classification. Nature has attended to all that, giving essential unity +with boundless variety, so that the botanist has only to examine plants +to learn the harmony of their relations.” + +This fine lesson charmed me and sent me to the woods and meadows in +wild enthusiasm. Like everybody else I was always fond of flowers, +attracted by their external beauty and purity. Now my eyes were opened +to their inner beauty, all alike revealing glorious traces of the +thoughts of God, and leading on and on into the infinite cosmos. I +wandered away at every opportunity, making long excursions round the +lakes, gathering specimens and keeping them fresh in a bucket in my +room to study at night after my regular class tasks were learned; for +my eyes never closed on the plant glory I had seen. + +Nevertheless, I still indulged my love of mechanical inventions. I +invented a desk in which the books I had to study were arranged in +order at the beginning of each term. I also made a bed which set me on +my feet every morning at the hour determined on, and in dark winter +mornings just as the bed set me on the floor it lighted a lamp. Then, +after the minutes allowed for dressing had elapsed, a click was heard +and the first book to be studied was pushed up from a rack below the +top of the desk, thrown open, and allowed to remain there the number of +minutes required. Then the machinery closed the book and allowed it to +drop back into its stall, then moved the rack forward and threw up the +next in order, and so on, all the day being divided according to the +times of recitation, and time required and allotted to each study. +Besides this, I thought it would be a fine thing in the summer-time +when the sun rose early, to dispense with the clock-controlled bed +machinery, and make use of sunbeams instead. This I did simply by +taking a lens out of my small spy-glass, fixing it on a frame on the +sill of my bedroom window, and pointing it to the sunrise; the sunbeams +focused on a thread burned it through, allowing the bed machinery to +put me on my feet. When I wished to arise at any given time after +sunrise, I had only to turn the pivoted frame that held the lens the +requisite number of degrees or minutes. Thus I took Emerson’s advice +and hitched my dumping-wagon bed to a star. + + +MY DESK +MY DESK +Made and used at the Wisconsin State UniversityToList + +I also invented a machine to make visible the growth of plants and the +action of the sunlight, a very delicate contrivance, enclosed in glass. +Besides this I invented a barometer and a lot of novel scientific +apparatus. My room was regarded as a sort of show place by the +professors, who oftentimes brought visitors to it on Saturdays and +holidays. And when, some eighteen years after I had left the +University, I was sauntering over the campus in time of vacation, and +spoke to a man who seemed to be taking some charge of the grounds, he +informed me that he was the janitor; and when I inquired what had +become of Pat, the janitor in my time, and a favorite with the +students, he replied that Pat was still alive and well, but now too old +to do much work. And when I pointed to the dormitory room that I long +ago occupied, he said: “Oh! then I know who you are,” and mentioned my +name. “How comes it that you know my name?” I inquired. He explained +that “Pat always pointed out that room to newcomers and told long +stories about the wonders that used to be in it.” So long had the +memory of my little inventions survived. + +Although I was four years at the University, I did not take the regular +course of studies, but instead picked out what I thought would be most +useful to me, particularly chemistry, which opened a new world, and +mathematics and physics, a little Greek and Latin, botany and geology. +I was far from satisfied with what I had learned, and should have +stayed longer. Anyhow I wandered away on a glorious botanical and +geological excursion, which has lasted nearly fifty years and is not +yet completed, always happy and free, poor and rich, without thought of +a diploma or of making a name, urged on and on through endless, +inspiring, Godful beauty. + +From the top of a hill on the north side of Lake Mendota I gained a +last wistful, lingering view of the beautiful University grounds and +buildings where I had spent so many hungry and happy and hopeful days. +There with streaming eyes I bade my blessed Alma Mater farewell. But I +was only leaving one University for another, the Wisconsin University +for the University of the Wilderness. + +THE END + + + + + + +_Index_ToC + +America, +early interest in, 51-53; +emigration to, 53-59. + +Anderson, Mr., 216, 217. +_Anemone patens_ var. _Nuttalliana_, 119-121. +Animals, +man’s tyranny over, 83, 84, 109, 110, 181; +accidents to, 133-136; +the taming of, 185, 186; +cleanliness, 187, 188; +endurance of cold, 189, 190. + +Apples, wild, 124. +Audubon, John James, on the passenger pigeon, 52, 53, 162-166. +Aurora borealis, 205, 206. + +Badgers, 183. +Bathing, 16, 17; +of animals, 187, 188; +of man, 188, 189. +_See also_ Swimming. + +Bear, black, 171, 183, 184. +Bees, 234-239. +Beetle, whirligig, 114. +Berries, 122, 123. +Bible, the, 242-244. +Birds, +removing their eggs, 64, 65; +met with in Wisconsin, 64-75, 137-167; +accidents to, 131-135; +bathing, 187, 188. + +Birds’-nesting, 27, 28, 44-48. +Blackbird, +red-winged, 142, 143; +hunting, 175. + +Blacksmith, +the minister, 108; +his cruelty to his brother, 214-217. + +Bluebird, +nest, 62, 139; +a favorite, 138, 139. + +Boat, 115. +Boatmen (insects), 115. +Bobolink, 140, 141. +Bob-white, or quail, +accidents to, 133-135; +habits, 151, 152. + +Books, 241-245. +Botany, first lessons in, 280-283. +Boys, savagery of, 23-26. +Brush fires, 76, 77. +Bull-bat, or nighthawk, 69-71. +Bullfrogs, 74. +Butterfly-weed, 122. + +Cats, +a boy’s cruel prank, 23-26; +a cat with kittens, 77, 78; +old Tom and the loon, 155-158. + +Charlie, the feeble-minded man, 214-217. +Chickadee, 143, 144. +Chickens, prairie, 145, 146. +Chipmunk, 193, 194. +Choke-damp, 232, 233. +Chores, 202-204. +_Christian Philosopher_, _The_, by Thomas Dick, 242. +Clocks, 252-258. +Clover, 199, 200. +Combe’s Physiology, 188. +Consumption, 212, 213. +Coons, 170, 184, 185. +Copperhead, 110, 111. +Corn, husking, 105, 106. +Cows, sympathy with, 94. +Crane, sandhill, 68, 97. +Crops, Wisconsin, 199, 200. +Cypripedium, 121, 122. + +Dandy Doctor terror, the, 6-9. +Davel Brae, 28-30. +Deer, 169-174. +Desk, a student’s, 283, 284. +Dick, Thomas, his _Christian Philosopher_, 242. +Dog, Watch, the mongrel, 77-83. +Duck, wood, 147, 148. +Ducks, wild, 147, 148. +Dunbar, Scotland, +a boyhood in, 1-55; +later visit to, 37, 38. + +Dunbar Castle, 17. +Duncan, William, 233. + +Eagle, bald, and fish hawk, 51, 52. +Early-rising machine, 252-256, 284. + +Ferns, 122. +Fiddler, story of a Scotch, 130, 131. +Fighting, boys’, 28-30, 33-37. +Fireflies, 71, 72. +Fires, +brush, 76, 77; +household, 204; +grass, 230; +lighting the schoolhouse fire, 277-279. + +Fishes, 115-117. +Fishing, 116, 117. +Flicker, 66. +Flowers, +at Dunbar, 12-14; +wild, in Wisconsin, 118-122. + +Food question, the, 241-244. +Fountain Lake, 62, 115-118, 124-129. +Fountain Lake Meadow, 62, 71. +Fox River, 123, 141, 147. +Foxes, 182, 183. +Frogs, love-songs of, 74. +Fuller, 129. + +Ghosts, 18, 19. +Gilrye, Grandfather, 2-4, 43, 54, 55. +Glow-worms, 72. +Goose, Canada, 149-151. +Gophers, 194-198. +Grandfather. _See_ Gilrye, Grandfather. +Gray, Alexander, 60, 61. +Green Lake, 103, 104. +Griswold, Judge, 280-282. +Grouse, ruffed, or partridge, drumming, 72. +Grubs, 229. +Half-witted man, 214-217. +Hare, Dr., 7. +Hares, 181, 182. +Hawk, fish, and bald eagle, 51, 52. +Hawks, 66, 177. +Hell, warnings as to, 76, 77. +Hen-hawk, 66. +Hickory, 123. +Hickory Hill, +purchase and development of the farm, 226-234; +life at, 234-263; +vacation work at, 279. + +Holabird, Mr., 148. +Holidays, 174. +Honey-bees, 234-239. +Horses, +the pony Jack, 95-102; +Nob and Nell, 103-105, 107-109. + +Hunt, the side, 168, 169. +Hunting expeditions, 171. +Hyla, 75. + +Ice, whooping of, 207, 208. +Ice-storm, 206, 207. +“Inchcape Bell, The,” 5, 6. +Indian moccasins (flowers), 121, 122. +Indians, +hunting muskrats, 81, 82; +killing pigs, 88, 89; +stealing a horse, 103-105; +getting ducks and wild rice, 147; +hunting coons and deer, 170; +fond of muskrat flesh, 180; +rights of, 218-220. + +Industry, excessive, 222-226. +Insects, 113-115. +Inventions, +on the farm, 248-261; +introduced to the world, 260-272; +the clock fire, 277-279; +at the University, 283-286. + +Jack, the pony, 95-102. +Jay, blue, nest, 62-65. + +Kettle-holes, 98. +Kingbird, 66, 67. +Kingston, Wis., 59-61. + +Lady’s-slippers, 121, 122. +Lake Mendota, 129. +Landlord, a friendly, 264, 265. +Lark. _See_ Skylark. +Lauderdale, Lord, his gardens, 2. +Lawson, Peter, 13, 14. +Lawson boys, 126, 127, 175. +Lightning-bugs, 71, 72. +_Lilium superbum_, 122. +Linnet, red-headed, 187, 188. +“Llewellyn’s Dog,” 4, 5. +Locomotive, riding on a, 267-269. +Loon, 153-158. +Lyon, Mr., teacher, 30, 37. + +_Maccoulough’s Course of Reading_, 51. +McRath, Mr., 184, 185. +Madison, Wis., +State Fair at, 260, 261, 269-272; +life in, 273-287. + +Mair, George, 218, 219. +Mallard, 147. +Marmot, mountain, 186. +Meadowlark, 143. +Meals, 42, 43; +the Scotch religious view of, 249, 250. + +Melons, 200. +Minister, the blacksmith, 108; +his cruelty to his brother, 214-217. + +Moccasins, Indian, 121, 122. +Mosquitoes, 113, 114. +Mouse, European field, with young, 3. +Mouse, +meadow, _or_ field, 106, 107; +eaten by a horse, 107. + +Muir, Anna, 56. +Muir, Anne (Gilrye) (mother), 11, 15, 16, 20, 22, 23, 28, 49, 256, 259, +260, 263. +Muir, Daniel (brother), 56, 115, 146, 223. +Muir, Daniel (father), 10, 11, 24, 31, 43, 44, 49, 53-56, 58-61, 83, +90, 94-96, 100-102, 115, 148, 191, 195, 203, 205, 218, 222, 224, 226, +231-234; +admonitions, 76, 77; +Scotch correction, 84-87; +as a church-goer, 107, 108; +his advice as to swimming, 124; +his ideas about books and the Bible, 241-244; +rules as to going to bed and getting up, 245-251; +his religious view of meals, 249, 250; +and his son’s inventions, 253-258; +his parting advice to his son, 262; +theories on bringing up children, 263. + +Muir, David, 11, 20-22, 43, 53, 54, 56, 62, 78, 85-87, 97, 110, 115, +125, 126, 223, 231, 263, 264; +kills a deer, 172-174. + +Muir, John, +fondness for the wild, 1, 49, 50; +earliest recollections, 1-3; +first school, 3-10, 28-30; +favorite stories in reading-book, 4-6; +favorite hymns and songs, 9, 10; +early fondness for flowers, 12-14; +an early accident, 15, 16; +bathing, 16, 17; +boyish sports, 17-26, 40, 41; +grammar school, 30-39; +birds’-nesting, 44-48; +early interest in America, 51-53; +emigration to America, 53-59; +settling in Wisconsin, 58-62; +life on the Fountain Lake farm, 62-226; +escaping a whipping, 84-87; +learning to ride, 95-100; +learning to swim, 124-129; +ambition in mowing and cradling, 202, 223; +put to the plough, 220, 221; +hard work, 221-224; +running the breaking plough, 227-229; +life at Hickory Hill, 230-263; +adventure in digging a well, 231-234; +educating himself, 240-247; +early rising proves a way out of difficulties, 245-251; +inventions, 248-261; +deciding on an occupation, 259-261; +determines to take his inventions to the State Fair, 260-262; +starting out into the world, 262-269; +at the State Fair, 269-272; +enters a machine-shop at Prairie du Chien, 272, 273; +odd jobs at Madison, 273, 274; +enters the University, 274-276; +life at the University, 276-287; +teaching school, 277-279; +vacation work at Hickory Hill, 279; +first lessons in botany, 280-283; +more inventions, 283-286; +enters the University of the Wilderness, 286, 287. + +Muir, Margaret, 56, 253. +Muir, Mary, 56. +Muir, Sarah, 15, 56, 127. +Muir’s Lake. _See_ Fountain Lake. +Muskrats, +an Indian hunting, 81, 82; +habits, 177-181. + +Nighthawk, 69-71. +Nob and Nell, the horses, 103-105, 107-109. +Nuthatches, 144, 145. +Nuts, 123, 124. + +Oriole, Baltimore, 143. +Owls, 145. +Oxen, humanity in, 90-94. + +Pardeeville, Wis., 263-266. +Partridge, _or_ ruffed grouse, drumming, 72. +Pasque-flower, 119-121. +Phrenology, 266. +Pickerel, 116, 117. +Pigeon, passenger, +Audubon’s account, 52, 53, 162-166; +extermination, 83; +in Wisconsin, 158-162; +Pokagon’s account, 166, 167. + +Ploughing, 201, 202, 220, 221; +the breaking plough, 227-229. + +Plutarch’s Lives, 241, 242. +Pokagon, his account of the passenger pigeon, 166, 167. +Portage, Wis., 93, 94, 108. +Prairie chickens, 145, 146. +Prairie du Chien, 272, 273. +Pucaway Lake, 147. + +Quail. _See_ Bob-white. + +Rabbits, 181, 189. +Raccoon, 170, 184, 185. +Rails, splitting, 221, 222. +Rattlesnakes, 110. +Reid, Mr., 213, 214. +Ridgway, Robert, 64. +Road-making, 209. +Robin, American, 139. +Robin, European, 27, 28. + +Scootchers, 20-22. +Scotch, the, their ideas of self-punishment, 130, 131. +Scotch, the language, 57. +Scottish Grays, 27. +Self-punishment, 130, 131. +Settlers in Wisconsin, 211-220, 222-226. +Shrike, a burglarious, 195-198. +Siddons, Mungo, 8, 9, 12, 30. +Skaters (insects), 115. +Skylark, 46-48. +Snake, blow, 111. +Snakes, 110-112. +Snipe, a case of difficult parturition, 134. +Snipe, jack, 73. +Snowstorms, 206. +Southey, Robert, his “Inchcape Bell,” 5, 6. +Sow, the old, 88, 89. +Sparrow, song, 143. +Spermophile, _or_ ground squirrel, a frozen, 135, 136. +Spirit-rappings, 210, 211. +Squirrel, flying, 192. +Squirrel, gray, 190-192. +Squirrel, ground. _See_ Gophers _and_ Spermophile. +State Fair, 260, 261, 269-272. +Stirling, Professor, 275, 276. +Strawberries, wild, 122. +Sunfish, 116. +Swamps, 208, 209. +Swans, wild, 149. +Swimming, 124-129. + +Tanager, scarlet, 143. +Thermometer, a large, 258, 259. +Thrasher, brown, 139, 140. +Thrush, brown. _See_ Thrasher. +Thunder-storms, 75, 76. +Trap, the steel, 180. +Tuberculosis, 212, 213. +Turk’s-turban, 122. +Turtle, snapping, 80. + +Vaccination, 11. + +Water-boatmen, 115. +Water-bugs, 114. +Water-lily, 118, 119. +Well, digging a, 231-234. +Whippings, 84-87. +Whip-poor-will, 68, 69. +Wiard, an inventor, 272, 273. +Wilson, Alexander, account of fish hawk and bald eagle, 51, 52. +Wind-flower, 119-121. +Wisconsin, settling in, 58-62; +life in, 62-287. + +Woodpecker, red-headed, 66; +drowning, 131-133; +shot and resurrected, 175, 176. + +Woodpeckers, nest-holes and young, 65, 66. +Wrecks, 38, 39. + + +Inconsistently hyphenated words in text: + +Page 55: care-free and Page 61: carefree +Page 59: heart-breaking and Page 109 and 227: heartbreaking +Page 102: pell-mell and Page 8: pellmell +Page 193: hazel-nuts and Page 124: hazelnuts +Page 224: over-work and Page 215: overwork +Page 269: foot-board and Page 273: footboard +Page 278: school-room and Page 8: schoolroom + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF MY BOYHOOD AND YOUTH *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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