“When I came into these woods, all I had left after paying for my land was the clothes on my back, my rifle, a few charges of powder and shot, a narrow axe and a week’s provisions; all my wife had was her spinning-wheel, cards, a few pounds of wool, two pewter plates, one bottle and the clothes on her back and some blankets. I carried a pack on my back, and my axe, and hauled the other stuff on a sledge—for it was the last of March and there was plenty of snow in the woods—she carried my rifle and a bundle.”
“But, Mr. Whitman,” said James, “if it was all woods and nobody lived near, where were you and your wife going to stop?”
“My intention was to cut out a place to build a log-house, and I had expected to reach the spot at noon, so as to be able to make a bush camp by night to shelter us while building; but the travelling was bad, the sun was down before reaching the spot and we came into the woods by twilight.
“I built a fire after scraping away the snow with a piece of bark, and as we sat by it and listened to the sound of the wind among the trees, you don’t know how solemn it seemed.”
“I should have thought you would have felt afraid,” said Bertie.
“I had been well instructed, and both myself and wife had professed to fear God—and did fear him—but we did not fear much else, though we had but a week’s food, and were nine miles from any human being. We knelt down together and I told my Maker there and then, that my wife and I were a couple of his poor children; that she was an orphan and had been put out since she was twelve years of age and had never had any home of her own. That we had nothing but our hands, and health, and strength, and were about to begin for ourselves in His woods; and wanted to begin with His blessing. That we would try to do right, and if we found any poorer or worse off than ourselves, would help them and be content with and thankful for whatever He gave us, be it little or much.
“I then made a bed of brush for my wife, covered her with blankets, threw some light brush on them, and sat all night by the fire with my rifle in hand.”
“I guess grandmother didn’t sleep much?” said Bertie.
“She slept all night like one of God’s lambs, as she was, though she had the courage of a lion. The next day I made a shelter of brush that kept out rain and snow, and by Saturday morning I had built a house of small-sized logs (such as your grandmother and I could roll up) with a bark roof, a stone fireplace and chimney of sticks and clay. I had also shot a buck, we brought a peck of Indian meal with us, your grandmother baked her first loaf of bread on the hearth, and we kept the Sabbath all alone in the woods with glad hearts. It is more than fifty years since I thus sought God’s blessing, and during all that time I have never lacked. I have raised up a large family of children; they are all well-to-do in the world. I am still able to be of some use, and am ready whenever the Master calls.