CHAPTER XXIX
MAKING CLAIMS
THE manner of making "claims"
is probably not fully understood by people of the
East. The design of the law is evidently to favor
the actual settler. It allows him, on the making of
certain improvements to the amount of fifty dollars,
such as building a house (or cabin), which must "have
a floor, window, and door, with lock upon it,"
and breaking up the "fallow ground," to
pay for it in advance, at one dollar twenty-five cents
per acre. A quarter section of one hundred and sixty
acres is all he can "preëmpt." The
chief benefit to the actual settler above others is,
that he may secure himself a home and farm, and retain
the use of his two hundred dollars during the two
or three years that may elapse before the land comes
into market. A "claim" unoccupied, unless
preëmpted, is liable to be "jumped,"
as is frequently the case in a protracted absence
of the original claimant. In many instances, the quite
claimant has been driven from his cabin, or had it
torn down over his head; and if out of the reach of
law, has been obliged to submit to the strongest party.
Whenever the land has
been surveyed, and a day of public sale appointed,
it is offered to the highest bidder; and when competition
runs high, it frequently exceeds the minimum Government
price, one dollar twenty-five cents per acre, at which
price the lands left are subject to private entry.
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An account given by a
friend of mine, embodying his experience in claim-making,
may afford amusement, as well as instruction, to my
readers.
Of delicate personal appearance,
and evidently tenderly reared, one would hardly expect
to find him enjoying the "rough and tumble"
of western life. His story runs thus: On a bright
spring morning, he and his friend equipped themselves
"for the woods," and started out on
foot in pursuit of a claim, or claims. Their
path lay over rough cart roads, upon which, he says,
"We took our first lesson in walking on logs
over mud holes, and in the absence of logs, in exploring
their depths." This was in the "big woods"
of Minnesota, and before evening they had stood upon
the shores of Lake Wakansica; had admired its surroundings,
and gone back five miles to the house of the nearest
settler to spend the night, "tired to death with
twenty miles' travel." But as our friend has
figured somewhat in the literary world, and especially
immortalized himself in his correspondence with the
"Knickerbocker," in his "Bachelor Suggestions,"
of "Baby Cars," my readers will be better
satisfied with the production of his own racy pen.
He says—
"This settler
was an honest Hoosier, who had brought his wife and
three children 'from back in Indyanna,' to reside
on the bank of a pretty lake, 'and get shet of the
ager.'
"They lived in a
rude log cabin, sixteen by eighteen feet, plastered
with mud, and with a huge fire place and mud chimney
pushed out at one end. This one small room served
as kitchen, parlor, bedroom, pantry, cellar, and all
other purposes. The furniture was equally rude there
being but one chair with a back to it, and
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that quite rickety. For seats, there
were a large trunk, two stools, and two empty boxes.
We ate a hearty supper of pork and potatoes, and bread
and black molasses. Milk and butter were unknown luxuries.
There were two beds—the settler and wife occupied
one, myself and chum the other, while the children
made a bunk on the floor. This was our boarding house—these
our fare and sleeping accommodations, till we had
erected our first cabin, with a weary walk of five
miles at each end of the day.
"The next day we
selected and made our 'claims' of one hundred and
sixty acres (or less) each, conforming, in our land
marks, to the United States' survey, and commenced
clearing. We labored under many disadvantages; but
after awhile got a 'set of house logs' chopped—about
forty—and with the help of two men, raised the
frame of the first house on the borders of Lake Wakansica.
"The logs are notched
at each end, upon the under side, 'saddled' or ridged
upon the upper, and piled up cob-house fashion, to
the height of the eaves. Then longer logs are laid
for the roof to rest on, and the 'ribs' placed transversely
upon shorter and shorter logs till the ridge is reached.
These ribs serve the purpose of rafters, upon which
the roof, usually of 'shakes,' or short boards, split
from a straight-grained oak log, is nailed or secured
by 'weight poles.' The places for doors and windows
are sawed out afterwards. The crevices between the
logs are closely 'chinked' with bits of wood, and
then plastered with mud. The floor is generally made
of 'puncheons,' or split logs, hewn smooth upon the
upper surface.
"After we had got
up the fame, and the roof partly
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on, we proceeded to obtain blankets
and provisions, and a few cooking utensils—all
of which we had to carry on our backs for five miles
through the woods—and moved in.
"Our beds were of
boards—'soft side up.' At first it was like
sleeping on the floor of a piazza, with the front
gate open; but we built a rousing fire, slept well,
notwithstanding, and didn't take cold. We progressed
slowly, being but stripling pioneers; erected the
other cabin, and gradually made them comfortable.
The fire place and chimney were of wood, thickly plastered
with clay mud. The window of each had to be brought
from town. The doors were made of puncheons, hewn
on both sides, 'cleeted' together, hung on preposterous
wooden hinges, and secured by formidable wooden latches,
hewn and fitted with an ax. We were our own architects,
builders, masons, cooks, and laborers, and had to
labor hard at various kinds of work without the necessary
tools.
"Our cuisine
was somewhat extraordinary, and much more meager in
its appointments than that of the principal hotels.
Potatoes, ham, bread, and coffee, graced our board,
in its best estate. When the ham gave out—as
all hams will in the woods—salt pork had to
supply its place. The coffee failed, yet there was
plenty of very good lake water to supply its place.
The bread also failed, yet we had pork and potatoes.
Finally, the last bit of pork was cast remorselessly
into the frying pan, and we were reduced to potatoes
and salt.
"In order to have
as great a variety as possible, our cook (of whose
merits modesty forbids me to speak) served up potatoes
boiled, potatoes fried, potatoes broiled, and potatoes
raw. Thus we had four kinds. Of the
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cooking department, and its appointments,
as intimated above, it will not do to enlarge. Suffice
it to say, the cooking is done 'as well as circumstances
will admit.' Ravenous appetites make up for great
deficiency in skill. We cordially recognize the well-known
principle, that 'fingers were made before forks,'
and are astonished to find how many uses a jack knife
can be put. Some wooden bowls, paddles, and bark dishes,
were obtained from deserted Sioux 'teepees.'
Rough wooden spoons were whittled out, with which
soup could be eaten as readily as peas with a two-tined
fork. We disdained most of the luxuries of life, its
formalities and etiquette, for obvious reasons. Allow
me, here, to recommend roughing it in the woods as
a certain cure for dyspepsia. No sane man could have
seen us, amateur backwoodsmen—who modestly think
ourselves tolerable judges of good living—seated
on a log, voraciously munching at a slice of fat pork
in one hand, and a hot potato in the other, and for
a moment doubt this.
"The weather was
unpropitious. For two weeks it was like Niobe, all
tears; or as our own backwoods neighbor expressed
it, in a less poetic strain, 'I allow it has been
right smart rainy for a powerful spell.' At last the
sun shone brightly, and we rejoiced.
"For three weeks
we labored on, making improvements on our claims,
which consisted in building the log houses above described,
and clearing or cutting off some of the timber adjoining.
"We had browned our
faces, torn our clothes, kicked our boots, hose and
toes to pieces, and bruised, burned, blistered, and
blackened our hands out of all beauty and comliness.
I doubt if our best friends could scarcely have recognized
us in our tattered and torn, unshaven and unshorn,
barbarian condition.
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"Now, our houses
being completed—the hard work of which we are
getting tired—the shabby condition of our wardrobe—our
anxiety to hear how the outside world is getting on
without us, and especially the alarming fact, that
there remains only potatoes enough for one more meal—all
conspire to induce us to leave for a 'few days.' So
we pick up our 'traps,' strap them on our backs with
thongs of elm bark, cast a lingering look over the
beautiful lake, and to the tune of,
" 'I can't
stay in the wilderness;
I'm going home,'
depart in search of civilization, of
news, of friends, of letters, and of business.
"All this seeming
hardship is not without its enjoyment. Did you ever
build a house? I do not mean that you contracted for
the erection of a magnificent stack of bricks; but
that you built, say, a snug little cottage, which
you planned, contrived, and took pride in fitting
up according to your own taste. And if so,
didn't you rather like it? So there was a satisfaction,
even in working at my little log house. It was mine,
and I owned every log in it. I wish you could see
and admire, if not the snug cabin, certainly its beautiful
and picturesque situation. It stands on a high plateau
of level woodland, where the tall old trees are arched
together over the exuberant growth of verdure, and
flowers of white, blue, and yellow, and the thicket
of wild currant and gooseberry vines, like some old
untrained English park. In front is the blue expanse
of the lake, stretching away into the wilderness,
its picturesque outlines broken here and there by
jutting headlands and bold promontories.
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"Fish and game are
plenty in and about the lake, and squirrels and singing
birds throng the woods. 'Deer sign' was often seen,
but only once did we catch sight of the deer fleeting
in the forest. Occasionally, at nightfall, we set
fire at the roots of some huge hollow tree, dry as
tinder, which soon become a roaring tower of flames,
and thus we obtained a splendid pyrotechnic exhibition
at our very doors.
"One day, sauntering
along the shore of the lake, I noticed a suspicious,
sharp-pointed drift log among the rubbish. Closer
investigation discovered it to be an Indian canoe,
very ingeniously hidden by the Sioux. So I off with
coat and boots, and after an hour of brisk labor in
removing leaves, moss, sand, and water, was enabled
triumphantly to 'paddle my own canoe' in search of
pleasure and fish.
The foregoing is in keeping
with the reports of all who go out "to make claims;"
the spirit of romance and fun characterizes all, and
all undergo the same initiation, in kind if not in
degree, to a wild wood life. Many, from preference,
devote an unnecessary amount of time to the construction
of their cabin homes; others enjoy most the rare sport
of deer-shooting, duck-shooting, grouse-shooting,
and trout-fishing; and, with a relish unknown in any
other circumstances, they partake of their rustic
meals, while soul and body gather health and refreshment.
There is, truly, a strange fascination in this wild
life, which needs but to be tasted to be enjoyed.
Chapter XXX
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