Early Social and Economic Conditions.—During the Spring and Summer of 1881 the settlers could do very little on their farms except break up a small piece of prairie for the following year's seeding and build a home to shelter them. These homes were either dug-out or sod shanties. Very little lumber was used as it was too expensive and the hauling was slow and difficult as most of it had to be done by ox team and over dim trails.

Fort Sisseton proved of great value to the settlers in many ways. In June of this year the government built a telegraph line from the fort to Webster, which was then the nearest and most convenient railroad point. In the late Fall a large consignment of provisions and fuel reached Webster. This had to be hauled to the Fort and so throughout the months of October and November many of the settlers were able to earn much needed money in this way. About ninety per cent of the hauling was done by ox team and because of this and other difficulties the government was compelled to pay well for the work.

Winter came on early and severely. By the latter part of November about a foot of snow had fallen, closing all railroad traffic for a hundred and five days, November 20, to March 5th. Then the first train broke through with provisions and fuel to relieve the stricken conditions of the settlers. This was followed by another blockade which lasted ten days. Within a month after the first blockade, however, the government had succeeded in establishing a relay mail service between Aberdeen and Milbank, which operated with a fair amount of success. It is indeed difficult for us in this day with all the modern conveniences so immediately at hand to imagine the problems which faced these early settlers. In quite a true sense they were cut off from the life which they had left when they came to this Western expanse of unopened and unclaimed prairie.

These days of snow and ice provided the settlers with a wonderful opportunity for working out the problems of practical economy. They had constantly to face the dangers of cold and starvation. To meet the first of these dangers they twisted slough hay into rope shape just the right length to fit the cook stove. In later years they used hay or straw boilers. These were very similar to a common wash boiler; about twice as high, made of black sheet iron. They were filled full of hay and after removing the two front lids and cross bar of the cook stove were set upside-down over the opening. One of these when well filled would serve for the cooking of a meal. For heating they used a round boiler of the same material, closed at one end and at the other a removable cover with draughts. They were twenty inches in diameter and four feet high. These served their purpose with wonderful success and gave real comfort. For summer fuel they contented themselves with ox-o-line, (cowchips) when no other fuel was to be had. Some wood was to be had from the timber around the lakes. One could take all he could haul on a wagon for a dollar. There were some who did not have the dollar who, compelled by the law of self preservation, took the wood without pay.

For food much whole wheat was used. This was ground in large side coffee mills, which they fastened on the studding of their shacks.

SOD SHANTY WELL PRESERVED 1905

The only casualty of that hard winter occurred on March 27, when Page Howe, the mail carrier from Webster to Fort Sisseton and the hospital steward at the Fort, were caught in a storm while coming to Webster. When they left the Fort shortly after dinner there was no indication of bad weather, but when they reached what is called six mile hill, this side of the Fort they were overtaken by a storm. The two men became alarmed and quite lost their heads. They unhitched and mounted their ponies, riding along the telegraph line for about five miles, then dismounted, leading the ponies from pole to pole. After some time they had a disagreement and separated at about old Roslyn post office. Mr. Howe felt that he could reach his home, which was located in the woods just north of MinniWaste lake, by going with the storm. He never reached his home alive. The storm raged for forty-eight hours and after its abatement a searching party went out from Webster. His body was found just West of the Joe Briske farm (formerly Woodard's) by Mr. Woodard. The steward followed the telegraph line to within five miles of Webster where he was found alive by a squad of soldiers from the Fort. Mr. Howe was buried in the woods near his house, but the grave has never been located.

After this storm, Spring came bringing warm weather, plenty of work, new settlers and so the winter with its many hardships was quite forgotten. The years of 1882-3 were boomers. Much new land was broken and crops were excellent. This proved to be the time of the largest settlement of the county. Winter brought its troubles, too, but these were mostly faced by the railroad men. It was their job to keep clear the road between Minneapolis and Aberdeen. This was most difficult west of Milbank because of the large cuts which would fill and then came the job of snow bucking. This task occupied the combined section crews from Milbank to Aberdeen. They always used two engines for pushing the snow plow. The plow would back away from the cut about two miles and then make a speedy run. Of course the two engines would often be completely buried. A separate train would then pull up with the crew to shovel out the plow and engines. (These were days when it was not necessary for one to "look out for the cars.")

There are always those who are more daring than cautious. The settlers who had passed through the experience of wintering in 1881-2 were always careful to advise new-comers of the danger of snow storms. In spite of these warnings there were a few casualties in March of 1883. These were: Oscar Stevens, who was found frozen on Waubay Lake, William Hazelden found in a snow bank about a mile South East of his house, A. Wasilk found in a snow bank North of Waubay Lake.

Each year added more acres of breaking and crop yields were generally very fair. Prices, however, remained quite low; wheat and flax never reaching the dollar mark. Dairy butter brought from seven to ten cents per pound, eggs five to ten cents per dozen (in trade), hogs, two to three dollars per hundred and the best milk cows, fifteen dollars. The winters were mild and fairly respectable up to January 12, 1888, when occurred one of the most terrific snow storms which had ever been known to sweep the North West. The loss of life among people and live stock reached a high total. In Dakota Territory, alone, one hundred and forty-eight people were frozen to death. The storm started on Friday, early in the afternoon and thus caught many children and teachers still at school. For twenty-four hours the storm raged and then the thermometer went considerably below 25 degrees below zero, so that the anxiety of those at home was beyond realization.

No one but God will ever know the constant fear which the mothers endured when their husbands were called from home, in order to market their goods or to make a little extra money to feed the family. In the fall there was always the possibility of the terrible prairie fire which might sweep away the home, sweet home. And, too, there were always rumors abroad of Indians who might come any minute to relieve one of his scalp. While there was never a real outbreak in the county, some of the scares proved almost as fatal as though the scalping had actually occurred. I wish at this point to relate one of these incidents as it was told by a participant.

Dear Editor

As you wish some data regarding one of the most terrible Indian scares which ever took place in Day county, I will try to tell you as best I can. They were having a dance at Pierpont on Thanksgiving night, 1890. Five of us, the only Indians in the whole affair; T. P. Lemmon, John Parott, George Bathen, Jim Collins and I had come to attend. Young Smoots, who lived about five miles south of Pierpont, also came with his girl. We were gathered in Jim Collin's store and Smoots came in. He began telling us about the agitation of the Indians in the Rosebud and that probably we would soon have trouble here. We had been drinking a little and were ready for a little fun, so we saw our chance. It was easy to strengthen his story by telling that the Indians had already killed quite a few in and around Webster. The poor lad became so frightened that he unhitched his horse and rode away as fast as he could. We mounted our bronks, threw red blankets over our shoulders and gave him a chase. A few fired shots completed the scare.

Had we known all the circumstances in the case the thing would never have happened. We thought that Smoots would merely hurry home and return the next morning for his girl and buggy. The thing we did not know, however, was that his father and mother had been in the terrible Indian Massacre at New Ulm, 1862-3. When Smoots reached home he told that people were being killed by the Indians. His parents quickly drove to Bristol and spread the alarm. There being no telegraph line to Pierpont it was impossible to get information through. The people were thoroughly aroused. On the following day the papers came out with stories of how the Indians had swooped down upon the people of Day county and had killed most of them.

Bristol wired to Webster in order to call out the militia company, which was located there. Then they ordered Madison and Bristol train crews to prepare their train for carrying away the women and children. The train was soon ready and people began to crowd into it. The conductor afterwards told me that young Smoots was among the passengers and that Sheriff Tom McKennett had stationed himself at the rear of the train to club off the Indians. Many other laughable things occurred at this time. Another move which the Bristol authorities made was to send out two scouts; old Johnny Stephenson and a saloon keeper whose name I do not recall. When the scouts got into the hills north of Bristol, there was an old mule in the ravine which began to bray. At this war cry the saloon keeper broke for Bristol, but Old Johnny came through and got the truth which he reported to headquarters.

Of course Bristol had been so badly frightened that they were quite ready to lynch us and I really think that we deserved it. They had us arrested and Deputy Sheriff Dean Faulkner, came after us on Saturday night. George Bathen and John Parott left for parts unknown, but Jim Collins, Lemmon and I stood our ground. On our way to Bristol I asked Dean to let me off at the crossing so that I might wire Groton for an attorney and bondsmen. He would not permit such a leave of absence. Their scheme was to jail us over Sunday, but had they succeeded there would have been more trouble, as there were about twenty armed men from Pierpont and Andover who had come to see us get fair play. I whispered Collins to watch Dean and as we came to the crossing I jumped. Dean fired several shots and might have hit me had it not been for Collins who knocked the gun from his hands.

In due time we faced trial at Webster. Frank Sears was state's attorney and a pretty fair Indian himself, so we pulled through in pretty good shape, being acquitted upon the payment of our fine. It was a bad deal and one I shall never forget.

J. S. Mack.

P. S.—I am inclosing a letter from my firm, the Empire Elevator Co., which will show the general feeling caused by the special edition of the Minneapolis papers. "The papers have just announced that Pierpont has been burned up by the Indians from the reservation. Did they do any damage as they went through there, or is it only a scare?"

The years of 1893-4-5, were years of drouth and hot winds, which with low prices, brought the crop yield down to almost a starvation level. These were days which tried the souls of the best of men, and many of the settlers became so discouraged that they pulled out between sun down and sun up. As many put it, "The quality of the grain was such as to make a chicken blush." Farmers began to wonder as to whether such grain as they had been raising could be used for seed. In order to make sure of this Mr. Dave Williams and the editor took some samples to Prof. Hays at the University of Minnesota. After careful examination Prof. Hays informed them that he believed the grain would be fit for seed. This conjecture proved to be true. On returning to Webster, these two men submitted the report fo J. C. Adams of the Reporter and Farmer, who published it, thus easing the minds of the worried settlers. A good crop in 1896 relieved the stricken conditions to some extent.

The winter of 1896-7 came on with a vengeance, snow falling to about four feet on the level. By this time, however, the rotary snow plow had been developed. This plow could leave Montevideo in the morning and clear the track to Aberdeen by night.

CAN YOU BEAT IT?
By Farmer Jake

When the blamed chillblains are burnin' and a-stingin' of your feet;
When you have a grouchy feelin' for 'most everything you meet;
Then you cuss the cussed winter, as through the snow you climb,
And you wish that you were livin' in a sunnier, southern clime.

When Jack Frost is steady bitin' and a nipping at your toes,
And the sap in constant runnin', is a-dripping from your nose,
Then you hate old man King Winter and the things that he does bring,
As you long for warmer weather and the balmy days of spring.

Then the sun, all of a sudden, comes a-burstin' from the sky,
Bringin' warmth and balm and gladness to 'most everythin' close by;
And a million billion diamonds glist'ning sparkle on the snow,
And a wealth of Nature's beauties lay right at your feet below.

Then your heart takes on some comfort, as your eyes on beauty feast,
And you wouldn't trade your feelin's for the old home place back east;
For the good Dakota sunshine has recharged your soul with cheer,
And you're tickled 'most to pieces that your humble lot is here.

ROTARY AT WORK IN CUT JUST WEST OF WEBSTER DEPOT

The spring of 1897 burst forth in all the glory of a Dakota awakening. The heavy snows of the previous winter with heavy rainfall, later, filled the lakes and sloughs to overflowing. The hot winds had disappeared and everything favored a bumper crop, which quite fully restored King Prosperity to his throne in the county. Since 1900 the county has steadily marched forward, not only ranking first in its crops of small grain, but it also has the honor of claiming the alfalfa king of the state. (See Bristol Township, H. F. Hansmeier. )