ATY pages 150-154

ATY pages 150-154

                Once not long after this we could hear Toby barking down by the corral.  Going down to see what the trouble was I found Billy Fortune with his foot through the barb wire fence.  This could mean trouble if he began working his leg up and down.  He could have cut his leg badly.  Toby had warned us so we got the leg out safely.

                Mother complained one evening after feeding the chickens that she thought they were laying out because she found so few eggs in the hen house.  Next morning Toby and I went hunting nests.  After some time we found one near a clump of sage brush with only a few eggs.  Starting to reach for them, Toby jumped between me and the nest.  I was shocked out of my wits when I saw him grab a large snake in the middle of the back and crush into it  but dropped it before it could bite him.  I took a rock and finished killing it while Toby stood by whining.  That was the first snake I had seen since we had moved here.  I put the eggs in my pocket and with a forked stick I took the snake to the house.  Mother and Wilhelmina almost fainted when they saw what I had.  That evening when the men folks came home they said.  “That’s where your eggs have been going.  He’s harmless.  He just swallows the eggs whole.”  They took a stick and tapped on the lumps in its stomach.  There were the three eggs.  After that mother kept her chickens in each day until they layed.

                The garden was coming along nicely.  It was what I would call a prize garden.  For mother’s apron was just as handy as when I was a child for bringing things from the garden as well as wood and chips from the wood pile. Eggs from the chicken house, and various other things.  The green string beans couldn’t have been nicer and Mother wasn’t letting any of them go to waste, she as usual was the saving little mother she had always been.  She had almost a flour sack of dried ones besides those she had cold packed.  Then too the spring greens she dried and put up and beets canned, plain and spiced. 

                Father was hard at it building a cellar in the side of the hill.  We could see him through the window diligently working away for mother’s kitchen was getting much too full.  Corn would be the next to be taken care of.  He planted what they called Indian or Squaw corn.  He said that was the only kind that would make ears for eating before frost in this high country.  We had already had some for table use.  The ears were small and white but quite sweet.  The tomatoes were wonderful but father was afraid they wouldn’t be too many ripe ones as we had already had a several slight frosts in the hills.  The quaken aspens were also showing signs of it and this helped to ripen the berries along the creek, mother and I would pick one day and can the next.  We kept this up until we had what we wanted.

                I picked cherries by riding Beauty and sitting on her back under the tree.  I’d get a kettle full then I’d ride back and give them to mother and she’d give me another kettle.  I kept this up until I practically got or picked all of them.  Toward the last, to get them I stood up on the saddle.  We got a nice lot of jelly and jam from them thus little by little stuff was being stored for winter use.

                Father’s cellar turned out to be something pretty nice with potato bins and shelves for the fruit and vegetables and a place to hang the tomato vines with green tomatoes still intact to ripen as the winter months went by and a place in the other corner for the carrots and nice heads of cabbage.,  Mother also had part of a sack of dried peas that she was very proud of.  Just as you went in the door was a hook for the lantern to hang on.  The lantern could be easily lit.  My brother made a cellar much the same way and my sister-in-law was just as busy as the rest of us.  They had a small garden but not as nice as father’s so they divided with them and I helped all I could for I knew I would be given some too.

                Our cupboards were finished and from the front upstairs window I could see our home in the valley below and the wheat a wonderful stand.  It looked like one big lawn and I thought as I gazed at it, what a nice setting and it was all ours.

                Some few days later mother was out with her turkeys when a storm seemed to come suddenly from no where and the mountain tops clouded over with a dense fog.  It was rather a hot morning for the last of August and that brought on the storm, a thunderbolt broke the calm stillness and flashes of forked lightening lit up the valley.  A few drops of rain came out of the sky.  Throwing my coat around me, Toby and I dashed up the canyon to where mother was with her turkeys.  We soon came upon them.  They, the turkeys, had panicked and mother, the wonderful little mother she always was, wouldn’t leave them even in the face of danger and was trying desperately to get them together and start them for home.  Seeing Toby and me she said,  “Thank the Lord, Annie.  I knew he’d send me some help.”  Mother always had so much faith in the Lord.  Toby and I  had some little trouble for when we’d just about get them together and started back it would thunder and they would run for a hiding place.  The rain was coming down more now but soon they saw where they were headed for and took off in fright outrunning us.  My sister ran out and shut them in their house when the turkeys got home.  She was getting the geese in when we arrived.

                We hadn’t more than gotten in the house when the mountain peak seemed to have ripped the clouds asunder and the heavens literally fell apart dumping tons upon tons of water onto the valley in a moment of time. The awful roar could be heard for a mile or more as it came dashing down the mountainside taking everything in it’s path, fence posts, trees, mother’s milk house, pans, milk and all and a calf that was swept off its feet and drowned as it was swept along.  Shirley Creek looked like Snake River.  Father’s garden was part of the river as it rushed madly onto its destination in the flats below.

                We were told later that several teams and wagons with people had waited below Jim’s and my place for hours before it subsided enough for them to cross to go to their homes.  They said a fellow tried it some years back and his team was swept to their death and he was saved only by being able to jump from the wagon to the bank which was somewhat of a close call.  Old-timers told my father of those cloud bursts that occurred about once a year during August or heat of summer.  He was told to build his house back aways from the creek or on a sloping hill.  So he did.

                The next day father found the garden was damaged very little because everything was at a mature stage.  It made the corn ripen faster so we all got in and it was soon dried and some mother cooked in an open kettle with salt and canned it.  It was a little salty but really good.  She got the recipe from a farm journal.

                None of us was the worse for the storm and the cellar was gradually filling with good things.

                The first of September Jim went with his big wagon and team to Rupert to bring back the list of things we had made out sometime back for our home.  It included furniture, curtains, groceries, dishes and bedding, pillows, feather bed, quilts, sheets, blankets, pillow slips and so on.  It was supposed to be at the Rupert depot by September the second.  So Jim would pick it up.  I thought I should go along to help get the things but mother said it wouldn’t look good.  I wasn’t married to him yet.  So I watched him out of the valley and waved as I always had.

                Father had his bench land cleared, plowed and harrowed and today the man came to seed it to fall wheat.  Mother and father were both very pleased about it. My brother through hard work had his bench land ready too and the man would also seed theirs.  This meant a crop for the summer of nineteen hundred and fourteen and money to go on.

                Jim though hadn’t quite finished cleaning, burning and plowing his.  He might get it in spring wheat.  A part of it anyway.  Father was up there with him riding on the back of the drill seeing that the drill didn’t clog and miss some rows.

                Father had gotten mother two bushels of summer apples from some folks he was working for and that day was used in working them up into applesauce, a few preserves, and jelly from the peelings.  Mother did not can or make anything out of the service berries because they had such a sweet taste. Some mixed lemon juice with the pulp to make butter from them.

                That night father was tired but pleased with the prospect the day had brought forth and mother, sister and I were tired from the canning so we all retired early and soon were fast asleep.  About midnight though Toby barked and howled making quite a racket.  Every time he would sit down next to the kitchen door, he would sit so close you could hear his back hit the door and each time a growl like he was backing away from something.  Finally father took his gun and went downstairs and outside.  Toby was at his heels growling all the time hunting all around and finding nothing returned to bed but Toby kept up his growling.,  At daybreak father went out again.  This time he found tracks but no animal and in the meantime mother dressed and went down and was building the kitchen fire when father came in and hearing him say to mother., “I didn’t blame Toby for worrying and it was a good thing you had everything shut up good for we had a visitor last night.  One you wouldn’t want to encounter on your turkey drive.”  “What was that?” Mother asked.  “Nothing less than a bob cat, and a big one at that from the looks of the tracks.  There was no sign of him but he’s around and won’t rest until he gets what he’s after.“  “Well we’ll have to be on the look out” mother told father.   Mother fixed breakfast and sister came down and set the table.  We all sat down and ate the nice hot muffins, butter and chokecherry jelly.

                Now that father’s and my brother’s wheat was in, the time from then on would be spent in getting wood up for winter.  So Toby and I again went for a walk.  For it was such a beautiful day.  We were getting a little frost each night now.  Father had covered the tomatoes and Mother had canned quite a few but they were still loaded.  I lifted up the canvas and picked several nearly ripe ones.  I took a salt shaker from my pocket and proceeded to eat them as I walked along.  I still loved the excitement of this country.  The fresh air, the surrounding hills and all that went with it.  There were so many things for the taking.  Where would a city give you as much.  A city couldn’t give the health one found here.

                As we walked along I heard Toby whine.  I looked in his direction.  Looking I saw Toby digging with all his might.  As I saw something shiny I began to help him.  There was one of Mother’s milk pans.  Hunting a little father down we found the other one that had been buried from the flood.  I washed them in Shirley Creek.  We took them to mother only to find that both had small holes in them but mother said she could plug the holes and use them for chicken watering pans.

                The next afternoon when father went to Sublett to get the mail, he found a man with a load of peaches and apricots.  He had been peddling them up and down Sublett creek.  Each summer they came in there if you were lucky enough to contact them.  Father brought home two bushels of peaches and a bushel of apricots so we had another job of canning but how wonderful to have all of that for winter.

                The next morning while we canned, father and Jim went to the hills for wood.  Getting two loads and one was taken to our place.  Father had already gotten several for himself.  Brother was also replenishing his wood pile.

                The following day Jim and I went down to our house.  Father went along to help put the furniture together and in place.  Jim had put the stoves up, so he made a fire.  I put on a tea kettle of water to heat.  Then I washed up the dishes and put them away in the cupboard.  I also put away the groceries Jim had bought.  Father had made us a library table and my brother a kitchen table.  When everything was put in place and the shades were all put up we locked the door and went back home.

pages 147-149

Pages 147-149

                My sister put on an apron over her pretty dress she looked so nice in.  Then seated herself at the piano to practice some of the new pieces of music.  I basted the meat a time or two more.  Then lifted my cake out, put it to cool while preparing a quick icing.  We just about had the dinner ready when the men folks arrived. The grandchildren came running to meet their daddy.  They grabbed him by the hand and said,  “Come on mama has supper ready and it’s something you like.”  Thus he was hustled away without much chance to talk. Soon though he came back for two buckets of water.  That was one advantage they had over Jim and I.  They didn’t have to have a cistern.  Shirley Creek ran through our place too but by the time it got  there the stream was quite small and the water not very good for drinking or culinary purposes.  It was wonderful for stock water though. 

                The evening passed much the same as usual with father reading the paper and mother mending a pair of sox.  We girls were doing the dishes.  And always had lots to talk about when we worked together.  We seemed to be having such a good time.  Jim came out to see if he could get in on it, so we handed him a dish towel too.  Then sister said, “that let’s me out.” And went in to the living room.

                Later Jim and I walked down by the corral gate.  Billy Fortune with his head over the gate, whinnied there in the August moonlight and nuzzled my hand for the sugar I had brought him.  He was growing into a well made hose with his three white feet, star in his forehead, sleek black hair, tail and mane.  And a small white dot on his nose.  He showed the lines of his Hamiltonian ancestors breed.  That of a racing horse with his long keen slim legs and thin slim hips.  He was really beautiful standing there. 

                We stood there for some little time, petting and rubbing his sleek sides, for he seemed to enjoy it.  We left hand in hand for the walk up to my brother and sister-in-law’s.  The twin was doing extra good.  He was now three months old and my sister-in-law seemed to feel better and much happier than she had been.  She said, “things are working out better now.”  My brother had bought a cow so they were having all the milk the children needed.  We sat visiting for some time.  Just before we left my sister-in-law brought in each a piece of pie and a glass of milk.  I kept watching through the window to see if my folks had turned the lights out and gone to bed but they knew where we were and were not worrying.

                As we started home I started running down the hill.  Jim had a time catching up with me.  When we got home we found the folks had gone to bed but the light was burning in the living room.  We had no electricity, just coal oil lamps but they made a nice bright light.  I put the lamp on the kitchen table for Jim to blow out when he came in.  Then I went on upstairs to bed.

                The next day Jim hitched onto the drill and seeded the valley by our house to fall wheat.  I believe they called it gold coin, a new kind of seed wheat.

                Father had some time off, so he worked on our cupboards which we were quite happy about.  Thrashing machines could be heard over the country side.  Ranchers were getting their wheat into the sacks.  It had been a bountiful harvest.   As they thrashed the grain was put in hundred pound sacks and hauled to wheat elevators at Declo or Burley flour mills.  They used from four to six head of horses on these wagons and would take a load in one day, stay overnight to rest the horses and return the next and load that evening for another trip.  They made the round trip every other day.

                I was tempted again to climb that mountain by our house.  For it always seemed to have a defying look.  Each time I glance toward it.  Old Toby was at my heels.  He seemed to sense I had ideas of going places that morning.  Mother was down about a mile from the house herding her turkeys.  I walked down where she was and there just below a ways was a large cherry tree much larger than most of the wild ones and the cherries more like tame ones.  They were getting blacker and riper as the hot August sun bore down on them.  Coming back mother said,  “I see you found it.”  “Yes, I replied, “aren’t they nice?”  She said we’d make jam and jelly from these.  Mother was rounding up her turkeys when Toby jumped in the middle of them.  What a clatter! Turkeys gobbled and flew in all directions.  Mother left the turkeys alone for a while to take care of Toby.  She held a stick behind her and called to him.  He came in a subdued manner, almost crawling on his stomach.  Mother took him by the ear and asked “Is this what I feed you for to make work for me?”  He seemed so repentant, mother didn’t whip him only scolded.  He stood by whimpering and wanting to help but not daring to move as mother and I got the birds back together.  I gave him credit for more intelligence than I figured he had.

                Such a lovely day.  I was enjoying all of it.  Here we found a shady place by the creek so we sat watching the turkeys.  Toby layed down at our feet.  Still in a remorse state.  After an hour or so of watching the turkeys picking grass and gulping grasshoppers by the dozen, Toby lifted his head, raised his ears to listen, then began to growl.  At the same time the turkeys stopped and began to gobble acting excited.  Toby jumped to his feet , ran toward a small ravine.  Soon we heard growling and yipping and we knew Toby was in trouble.  Picking up a stick I started in the direction Toby had taken.  I hadn’t far to go when I could see Toby being held at a distance by two snapping snarling coyotes.  Being the time of year in the heat of summer when rabies was prevalent among them  I wasn’t in for letting them bite Toby so I stayed back a ways prevailing on Toby to come back.  As Toby turned toward me they jumped, snapping and snarling with full force at him.  About that time I tossed a rock in their direction causing them to turn tail and high tailed up the canyon.  I continued to throw rocks as long as I could see them which wasn’t long.  For a coyote in flight is something pretty fast.  Some distance away they turned and let out the most weird cry.  It even made the turkeys panic but as luck would have it they headed for home.  Mother and I just followed being thankful Toby went along for mother would have been minus some turkeys.  As we drove them though the corral Billy Fortune came close nuzzling my hand for sugar.  Toby was treated to a scrumptious feed with a few extra pats on the head.  That evening Father brought home two cats some folks had given him.  They were pretty kittens and we petted them a lot all to Toby’s dislike.  He tried being friendly to the cats but all to no avail for each time he advanced toward them they would rear back on their hind feet with claws bared, teeth showing and cat-like growls and snarls.  He’d backed away since he’d had porcupine quills in his nose.  So the mutual understanding between Toby and the cats never did materialize.  Toby went on about his business as usual, doing his chores like keeping the geese out of the garden.  They liked to walk down the rows and with their saw-like bill s snip off the tender green leaves of the vegetables.  After Toby had seen us drive them out a time or two he took the matter upon himself.  A fight of course always ensued.  The gander with his bill wide and hissing with wings beating the air came at Toby and when he finally got around to nipping Toby’s tail with his saw like bill that was too much.  Toby would howl with pain and go after the gander making the feathers fly in all directions.  Then mother would intervene to save the gander’s life.  I didn’t’ blame Toby for he was really mean with the bill of his.  Once I was standing in the yard not knowing he was any place around until I felt him nip my leg.  That spot stayed black and blue for a long time.  So I knew what Toby’s tail felt like.  Toby never gave up guarding the garden though.  He seemed to think it was his sworn duty and also the place where we got our water for household use was a favorite place for the geese to paddle and Toby didn’t intend letting that happen either.  Toby became a very valuable dog.

pages 145-146

Pages 145-146

                When she came in a little later, she said it was a little early in the day to shut the turkeys up but a few hours out was better than not letting them out at all.  The turkeys had to be watched almost constantly to prevent coyotes from carrying them off.  They liked to run and devour the grasshoppers.  I have seen a dozen of them running and jumping and grabbing the hoppers and gulping them down.

                Looking out of the window I could see some neighbors had come calling.  They were very nice folks.  Mother liked visiting with them.  They had lived out here for some time but originally came from the state of Washington.  They were the third people to have a place up above us.  We learned they came to this dry country for the husband’s health.  They had ridden horseback and I was always interested in horses so I went out to look them over.  While out there I watered and fed Beauty.  Then Jim was working.  I rode down the creek bed road.  I had more gates that way but I liked it better than the road over the hill.  There were chokecherries, Sarvis berry, wild currant and gooseberry bushes loaded with fruit that would soon be ripening.  The old magpies chattered and scolded when I rode by.  I was not in a hurry so I held Beauty down to a walk.  A few feet ahead sat a cottontail on his hind legs.  When he saw me he darted into his hole along the bank.  In fact several others scampered away too.  A little father on a bunch of sage hens, seemed to be a mother and five young ones, beating their wings taking off in flight with quite a noise.  And around the bend stood a white face cow and calf.  They belonged to our neighbor east of us.  The calf wasn’t more than a few hours old.  She stood her ground with head and horns lowered over the calf.  She had no intentions whatever of letting us disturb that calf.  I tried going around one side and then the other but no go.  She turned every way I did.  Our neighbor’s dog heard the commotion and came bounding and barking down where we were.  The cow then took after the dog with an awful bellow.  So we galloped on to our destination.

                Jim was working on the cistern.  In that country it was too expensive to drive a well.  You had to go so awfully deep to get water.  Then too we had a spring on the northwest part of our place in a small canyon.  Jim could haul water from it.  You dug a very deep hole, then cemented the sides and bottom, leaving it sloping and egg shaped at the bottom so it could be cleaned easily.  This one was around twenty feet deep and would hold a good many tanks of water.  Like you put on the running gear of your farm wagon.  He was down in the hole digging when I rode up.  He was surprised to see me.  He had a ladder to come up out of it.  As he did he said, “you know we must have water.”  “Just so it doesn’t cave in on you,” I replied.  “Oh! No danger of that,”  he answered.  He came over to where I was and helped me from my horse.  “It’s a different soil” he said, “more solid and compact.”  “Since you are here I’ll knock off for the day.”  He took my hand, gave me a kiss and then we went in to see how well the house had been finished.  The cupboards still had to be built.

                When we got home.  Father promised he’d get at the cupboards soon, as they had only a few more days on the job they were working on.

                Mother had supper ready. And sister was helping. After the meal was over.  I did the dishes and sister got ready for her date.  Soon the dishes were done with Jim drying them.  All the men seemed tired that evening.  It had been a rather warm day.

                July was fast slipping by.  Jim had planned to go to Rupert to buy furniture for our home several times but found things that had to be done first.  He also found the fruit trees he set out on the slope of the hill had been eaten by the rabbits.  They seemed to like to nibble the bark.  He had to put a wire netting around each tree.  He had plowed the valley by our home and planned to seed it to fall wheat the first of August.

                That evening as we sat talking in the living room he was admiring my diamond again.  He also had the band or wedding ring but I wasn’t to wear that until we were married which he hoped wouldn’t be too long.

                Thus the days went by and time didn’t seem to hang heavy on anyone’s hands.  The girl that worked for my sister-in-law had a sadness in her life that summer.  Her father died.  They lived on a homestead in the flats.  They had a small two room home and had very little of this world’s goods.  They had come to this dry valley for health and a homestead from the Kentucky hills along with a lot of other kinfolks.

                When we arrive for the funeral, just the close relatives were there.  We sat on the only two fairly good chairs there.  There were benches next to the wall.  The folks were sad.  We said words of condolence as best we could.  The corpse was lying on a long wooden table next to the wall.  As we talked we noticed an odor like rags burning.  We saw in a corner two small cans with rags, perhaps soaked in oil, just smoldering enough to let off an odor.  We never did find out why this was done unless to destroy any odor that might come from the dead person.  The distance to the nearest undertaker was fifty miles.  These people didn’t have a horse to go get the undertaker.  This way of burying was customary among these people.  They were waiting for some of the relatives to make and bring a casket.  As we prepared to leave, relatives began gathering for the funeral.  I learned later the fellow had to go to a distant town to get the lumber.  It was late before he got back so he was late getting the casket made.  So it was the next day before the funeral was held. 

                As my sister and I drove home I had a profound sense of feeling for those folks.  Even the colored folks’cabins in the south lands had more furniture and looked better.  When we arrive home and walked through our nicely furnished home with axminister carpet, nice chairs, overstuffed set, piano, curtains, guest room suit and on and on.  I felt sorrier than ever.  I felt the good Lord had more than blessed and prospered us.  When we told mother of the situation, she could hardly believe it.  “They are good people at heart.”  She said.  “and God’s children like the rest of us.”  She then went on about her work of tending her turkeys.  But had meat roasting in the oven for the evening meal.  I opened the door and basted the meat.  Wilhelmina prepared the potatoes.  I whipped up a burnt sugar cake, poring it into a long dripping pan, slipping it in beside the roast.  Then I went to change to a house dress.

pages 142-144

ATY pages 142-144

                The days were long and nights short that time of the year.  And morning came early.  Mother was up about five am.  Father and brother were building a church down on Sublett Creek and they were anxious to get it done, for a man at Malta wanted a big ranch home built.

                Jim had more plowing to do and post holes to dig.  Fencing and so on.  Mother and I had been making some of my wedding clothes and dresses to wear afterwards.  Jim and I had talked of getting married sooner, but I said let’s wait until fall.  Everyone is so busy now.  And there is much to do before fall.  Our kitchen cupboards have to be built and we have to get furniture.  And canning to do for winter.  We were happy and that was all that mattered then.

                A few days later Jim got a letter about our ranch.  We drove to Malta the next day with Beauty and Babe hitched to the buggy.  It was a distance of fifteen miles, mostly flat desert like country of gravel, foxtails and greasewood, which was a small brush that grew close to the ground.  Squirrels jumped and ran from the side of the road.  Several jack rabbits at a time darted off into the distance.  The brownish grey fur of a coyote could be seen loafing along, stopping at intervals with his nose in the air as though sniffing for food.  It was a lovely summer day, a cool breeze had come up, just enough to blow the dust away as we drove along.  Jim did not urge the horses for they were sweating some anyway.  We had the whole day in which to get this done.

                It was a little past noon when we arrived so we drove in the shade of a tree in the little village.  Jim watered the horses, then put a feed bag with oats in it on each horse so they could eat their dinner while Jim and I ate our lunch we had brought along.  We walked around this little town of only a few homes and business places.  We then went to the land office.  Several people were there ahead of us so we sat down and waited our turn.  The large picture he had over his desk was interesting.  It showed the Indian with his bow and arrow hunting buffalo nearby.  In the far corner the white man with his high powered rifle shooting the buffalo for sport.  The moral of the picture was the Indian kills for food and clothes.  The white man for the sport of it.

                Soon it was Jim’s turn.  I heard the man at the desk say, I have some more papers for you to sign in regards to your land.  Jim said that was fine.  He took the pen and signed. “Now that will be all” was the reply given by the man, so we left.

                On the way back we had a discussion on a subject we had discussed before.  I wanted to get an irrigated forty at Rupert instead of the homestead but Jim thought the homestead best.  He thought it would be a better investment.  We could make more and eventually sell if we became tired of it.  “Well,” I said,  “Since we have gone this far, it would be foolish with our home built, all the fencing, and sage you have railed as well as grubbed out and burned.”

                We were leaving the greasewood desert behind now and to our left was green alfalfa fields, stacks of hay, and nice home, barns, corrals, horses, and cattle.  We knew these people well.  From then on were places like this until we passed Sublett. We did not stop to get the mail because father and brother passed it of evenings coming back from work so we left it for them.

                When we arrived home we could see our old Toby dog running in circles and howling.  We wondered what was wrong.  Mother came out and told us he had come in contact with a porcupine.  His nose was full of quills.  He had never seen one before and probably bit at him in self-defense.  Jim said he’d see what he could do after he took care of the horses.  He used his pliers to pull the quills from the dogs nose.  He used his knife to cut some that were bedded too deeply.  Toby howled and howled in pain but felt better after Jim had removed the quills and put medicine on his nose and mouth,  We soon found he couldn’t eat too good so it was another job getting quills out of his tongue.  After that porcupines came and went but Toby had learned his lesson.

                The next morning after the men folk had gone to work and the house work was done, with field glasses strapped over my shoulder and a very small twenty two rifle in my hand, the bullets always in my pocket, for I would never kill any of God’s creatures unless it was a snake and even then he would probably wiggle away before I could get a bullet in the gun, but I did like to practice shooting at tin cans or rocks.  I started for the garden with Toby at my heels, walking among the rows pulled a couple of carrots to eat on as I walked along.  Here I found rabbits had been nibbling on the crisp tender lettuce leaves and carrot tops.  They were the little cotton tails that live along Shirley Creek and wound up more times than once as a nice juicy meal for a coyote or an old hawk, leaving the garden, jumping Shirley Creek, I started the winding cow trail up the mountain like hillside that always seemed to beckon me,  when I had nothing else to do.  There was a deep mystery abiding there for me.  I talked to Toby for a while thinking he was still at my heels, but the effort must have been too much for him for looking back I could see him hunting along Shirley Creek.  He was looking for a tasty meal.

                The winding trail took me a little lower down so I walked back up to a higher level.  It was great just to inhale this pure undiluted air.  And all so wonderful just as God had made and left it so many thousands of years ago and left it thus for man to try his luck with it.  I had come to love this country.  Who wouldn’t? so carefree with the quiet stillness that reigned there, away from the throngs of the busy city pavements, the rush and push, hustle and bustle, people that rubbed elbows, day after day and yet never really know each other.  That were always in a hurry.  Their thought only of themselves.  And breathed the polluted air from the dust of the city streets.  I stood there under the blue horizon of this mountainside in awe of it all for here was something worth living for.

                I placed my field glasses to my eyes and surveyed the country, for miles.  I saw the wheat fields on the hill side and bench lands.  The valley below to American Falls, and in the far distance was Heglar mountains, west all this wonderment of God’s world. 

                Yes it was an extra good wheat year, even spring wheat was over waist high,  The crops were good in the valley too where they were seldom good.  The valley-the one, two city girls, their mother and sweetheart of one of the girls had come across almost a year ago to their home in the canyon on Shirley Creek, arriving there in the dark of evening.  Ah! but this was all so different.  I could see heading crews, close and far capturing those heads of gold.  The header box would stay under the spout of the carrier until it was full then pull out and another pulled under until full then stack to thrash later when ready.  It took six or seven men to cut and stack the grain.  There were four horses on the header, two on each side.  They pushed the header into cutting the wheat.  The man that drove stood astride of the rudder bar and between the horses a tongue to steer and guide it.  There were row header boxes, one was under the spout at all times while heading to catch the grain.  This was the way they did it before the days of the big combines and finally when they did come, they used from sixteen to eighteen horses to pull the combine.  As I said it was a wonderful wheat year.

                Some of the old timers said these cycles would last as long as ten years at a time when ranchers would average from forty to fifty bushels per acre on good land.

                As I made my way back over the trail.  I too was in hopes we would get in on some of those good years.  Thinking Toby had given me up, I was surprised to see him coming back up the trail wagging his bushy tail.  So I patted him on the head.  We made it down though by putting on brakes every so often as pebbles and rocks rolled ahead of us by our feet slipping in the loose gravel.  Then seeing something else, a young man on horseback, one of sister’s friends, talking her into going to a party someplace.  I began feeling more as the days went by that she was becoming set in her ways and that the right one would never come along.  I think her heart was in Sidney’s keeping.  No one else seemed to come up with his qualities.

                As I neared the house he galloped away.  She seemed very much pleased.  Mother wanted to know where I had been when I went down where she was driving up her turkeys to feed.  They seemed to prefer staying in the wild cherry orchard.  Walking there I was surprised to find how fast the small fruit on these trees were growing and ripening.  These cherry trees grew all along Shirley Creek, in good years, people would pick them by the tub full.  They would cook and work them through a colander making juice into jelly, and the pulp into butter and jam.  Mother had said we would can some of the cherries when they were ripe.  She soon got the turkeys penned for the night.  Said she couldn’t afford to lose them now.  As mother fed the turkeys I went on to the house.

pages 140-141

Page 140-141

                For Jim and Father and brother had worked on our house all day and in the way they were talking I could see they had accomplished a lot.

                The fog of the morning cleared away.  The sun shone brightly for some time before sinking behind the western horizon, leaving a clear sky as it disappeared.  And thus ended that day, but much had been done in the way of getting our home built.

                Father and brother spent many days and much time working on it.  When some weeks later, it was finished all but the cupboards and closets, Jim and I went often admiring and looking it over.  As they worked on it,  we had big plans for furnishing it, but figured for now, something not too expensive would do, until we could get some wheat crops.

                Jim had a man that lived close to our place grubbing out, clearing and burning the piles of sagebrush, Then Jim too would plow it out, pile and burn the brush.  The land was rich, especially the bench lands.  The sage grew heavy and thick there.  Some were as large as small trees and over six feet tall.  This had to be gotten off before there could be a wheat crop.  Jim used railroad rails on our three hundred and sixty acres to clear the sagebrush.  He dragged the flat rail with the sharp edge down, using for head of horses,  two on each end.  He and another fellow worked together on this but it took some time even that way.  A hay rake was used to rake it in windrows to burn.  The best time to do this was in the spring before the frost went out of the ground.  The sage seemed brittle and broke off easier.

                I have gotten ahead of my story for it took several years before all of this was done and since our home was that near completed, Jim and I made a list of the furniture we needed so that he could get some it the next time he went to Rupert.

                The Fourth of July was only a few days away.  They were having a rodeo at Malta.  Since we had never seen one, Jim, my sister , and I went to it.  It was a nice trip.  The day was not too hot.  So we enjoyed it.  There was mostly bronco or wild horse busting or bucking.  The man that stayed on the longest won a prize.  There was calf roping, bull riding and all the things that go with rodeos.  There were stands where you could buy things to eat. 

                Sometimes the cowboys got hurt seriously at the rodeo.  There was a fellow the people took up a purse to get him to ride a very furious or mean horse.  The horse bucked twice, then went completely over backwards, cutting the fellow in two with the saddle horn.  He never lived to tell what happened, but the crowd saw it all.  He was such a nice young boy.  We knew him.   He had been to our house several times with the round-up boys.

                We came back by our ranch as we went home.  We went in the large downstairs front room, kitchen and bedroom.. Then we went upstairs.  The two bedrooms were large and roomy.  We all thought it a nice home.

                Jim had been plowing the ground he had cleared.  He would seed it in August in fall wheat.  We drove up on the bench land and looked it over.  He showed us where he’d have to set more post.

                When we arrived home, evening shadows were already falling around the mountain peaks.  Shirley creek was gushing along over its sandy rocky bed, making as much noise as ever, but music to one’s ears.  Birds in the wild cherry orchard along the creek, were chirping an evening lullaby.  An od magpie was screeching Maggie in an irritating voice.  The meadow larks sang their sweetest.  Jim liked to imitate them.  The frogs seemed to sense it was time to say.  “Me-daddy and knee deep.” (That’s what I was told they say.)

                Mother came out to greet us, asking how we had enjoyed the day.  “Fine” we said, “but this is the nicest place ever.  It’s home, how wonderful, and where would you find it prettier or nicer.”

                We seemed to like it better each day.  It was calm and quiet, a lovely place amid the surrounding hills to dream one’s dream of whatever he wished.

                That evening after a delicious fried chicken supper, was one to remember.  My brother, sister-in-law and three children came down also.  The little baby was doing nicely.  My mother held him most of the time.  He cooed and seemed to think his grandma’s soft lap was just the place to be.  My sister-in-law sang such pretty alto.  It mixed or blended well with other voices.  We had a song fest.  It must have sounded pretty good or else pretty bad for our old black and white dog, Toby, lying outside the door thought he’d join in too by throwing his head back howling his loudest.  This seemed to attract a coyote off on a near-by hill for he too answered back.  This kept up for some little time.  I don’t know which sounded the worst.  The dog or the coyote.  I went out and brought Toby in the house.  That was where he wanted to be anyway.  He soon went to sleep.  No matter how much we sang, father sat reading his paper. The news was sometimes a little old because we didn’t get the mail often.

                It was late when my brother and family walked back over the uphill path to their home.  Little Mary and Harry ran on ahead enjoying all of it.

                Jim and I went outside where we stood for awhile gazing at the stars and listening to the call of a night bird down the canyon.  As we stood there a form seemed to be moving down by the corral where Jim had his cows.  We moved in that direction quickly, but it moved faster, disappearing into the shadows and as we turned to go back to the house the weird cry of the coyote came back to us.  He was evidently sneaking around trying to find our dog, Toby, for he too had been answering back and forth earlier in the evening.

pages 137-139

ATY 137-139

                Once again, I was on the trot, heading for Shirley Creek and home.  I went down by our ranch.  I could see Jim in the distance working on some fence.  He had also ordered some fruit trees to set out.  But I did not stop, as he didn’t see me, and went on through the two gates and up to the house.  Mother was working in the garden as I drove by.  Seeing me, she came to the house. She wanted to know the news so I handed her the letters, and as I unhitched, told her all about the trip and how Father and brother were getting started on the cabin for the ranger.

                She said, “Jim got back late last night, and I fixed him a lunch, so he’ll not come back until supper.“ “Yes, I saw him, but didn’t stop,”  I replied, watering the horses. Then, turning them in the corral, went on in the house. 

                My sister had fixed lunch and was setting the table.  We all sat down to eat when the grandchildren came in.  We gave them their mother’s letter and they ran home.  Their grandmother called them back to given them a paper sack with some goodies in it that she had been saving for them.  Each one took a look in the sack , then squeezed the top tight and ran on.

                After dinner we read the letter from my sister Sallie.  She said they were getting the ranching fever again, and they were thinking of moving back to their ranch in Montana,  but they were doing real well there now and might not go for a year.  “But we always get that fever every year about this time since we moved away from Montana.  We are looking for another child in September, and we hope it is a girl.  Our two sons are growing and doing fine.”

                I left Mother reading the letter, and going outside, I stood staring at the garden.  I couldn’t believe my eyes how well things had come up and were growing so nicely.  I strolled down by Shirley Creek, and between the rows of vegetables, taking in each kind that was growing there.  That hill side was always a challenge.  Jumping Shirley Creek, I started climbing its flower, rock-covered sides, pausing now and again to look off into the distance, hunt a pretty rock, or pluck a pretty flower.  Life was carefree at that moment.  I could look for miles in every direction, and the view was so enchanting that I just stood there, looking far and wide.  I was standing there when I saw Jim leave the ranch and start for home.  With my hands full of flowers and small, pretty rocks, I started back down the way I had come up, picking my way as I went.  I was down to the road as he came through the last gate.  I waited. When he came by, I got in the wagon.  “I’ve been missing you.” He said and putting his arm around me, gave me a kiss.

                As I told him of the happenings of the day before, he said, “that must have been quite exciting.” Pulling on the reins.  And with a “ho” we were home.  I went in to put my flowers in water while Jim took care of the team.  Then I went back out and waited while he watered and fed the horses.

                We stood hand in hand talking for some time of our plans for the future.  Father and brother had done quite a lot toward building our home.  They would try to finish it when the ranger’s cabin was done. 

                One week later, after I had taken Father and brother to the cabin site.  Brother came home on evening at dusk to get more supplies.  This time he took the team and wagon with the stuff he had come for, and also all the hay he could take for the team.  He had a young girl to stay with his wife to help with the house work so she could have more time for the baby.

                Mother still enjoyed her work with the turkeys and geese, only now she had young turkeys and geese.  But the zeal or enthusiasm was not dampened.  She still enjoyed all of it, and no matter what Mother undertook, she always did well.  Neatness and cleanliness were her watchwords.  The garden she and Father had planted together was her pride, too.  She loved to cultivate and pick the lush vegetables and prepare them in an appetizing manner for the table, or to can and preserve them for winter’s use.

                May had been a month of blossoms, but now May was gone, and the fruit blossoms had turned into green fruit to ripen as the summer and fall advanced.  And from the looks of it, there would be loads this year of the wild currants, gooseberries, cherries, sarvice berries, etc. Mother had plans to can what she could of this fruit.  Nature had endowed the countryside with.  There would be tame fruit to be had from the irrigated ranches.

                As each day went by, the little place in the valley became more like home to all of us.  For there was something that seemed to fulfill our wishes and desires.  It wasn’t where one lived so much as contentment of soul and mind, and that’s what we seemed to have found for the present.

                Our friends came often to visit , and young men visited my sister.’            

                That evening, Jim and I drove to the Post Office for the mail.  Being a small country Post Office, sometimes no one was there to get us the mail, so Jim knocked at the door of the ranch house.  And as he did so, he heard someone say, “Who is this Annie? Is she one of the girls that live over on Shirley Creek?” his wife said “yes” as Jim knocked the second time.  Then he came to the door and went to get the mail.  “just a paper this time.” He said.  But when Jim handed it to me, I found two letters wrapped in the paper, one was from Jim’s mother to me, and the other one for my folks.  We could not read it as we drove along, for darkness had settled over the valley, So Jim whipped Beauty up and she soon covered the two miles.

                Driving in the yard, we saw that Father and brother had returned for there was the wagon loaded with all of their carpentry tools, etc.’ So the next few days became exciting ones for us.  They would start building on our house again.  When we went in, Father wanted to know if there was any mail.  So we passed over the letter.  Father read it and commented to Mother,  “that same fellow wants us to come back to Portland and build more houses.”  “Nothing doing“ Mother replied, “unless we move back, and we are quite content here.  We have everything we want here and this little valley has more than become home to us.  We love it.  Some day we may move away, but not now”.

                Father replied that we couldn’t go if we wanted to.  “We’ve promised to build for too many people here.”

                We visited and played the piano and sang.  For the day had been a long one.  So off to bed we went.  Father, Mother and sister all went upstairs, While Jim and I lingered behind a bit to have a goodnight kiss at the foot of the stairway.  Then I too went on up to bed. 

                The next morning was a cloudy-like morning,  It had rained in the hills , the mountains were surrounded with fog.  Mother had aroused early, for she always liked to take care of the chickens, turkeys, and geese before getting breakfast.  I heard her trying to sneak down the stairs without waking anyone, so I dressed and came down also.  I wanted to try my hand at baking another batch of bread.  I had tried on several other occasions.  Some had turned out badly and some pretty good.  Knowing Jim liked home baked bread, I’d have to keep trying, and this was one of those days.

                Mother had the fire going, so I set a yeast cake to soak this time rather than try mother’s starter.  The elderly nurse that took care of my sister-in-law said a beginner should use bought yeast to get started on.  Mother came in as I was getting the warm water to put the yeast in.  Putting her finger in the water, she said, “there’s one of the main reasons your bread hasn’t tuned out well.  You kill your yeast before it can even work, with water too hot."  Pouring the water out and getting more, she said, “it’s just barely warm to the touch or eighty degrees.   And if you have to, warm the cup just a bit with the yeast in it, it is better than the water too hot.”  That day I had wonderful bread.  I was so proud of it, I could hardly keep from showing it off, when everyone couldn’t seem to get enough of it, as slice after slice covered with butter disappeared at supper time.  I kept waiting for Jim to say something,  Finally , after his third slice, he looked up and said, “Mother, that’s wonderful bread.  Makes me feel like I am back home in Iowa.”  Mother said, turning to him, “thanks for the compliment, but you are complimenting the wrong one”  “then who,” he asked.  Mother pointed to me.  “You!” he said with a broad smile.  “I am more proud of you than ever.  You are the wonderful little homemaker I had in mind you’d be all along”  and couldn’t say anymore, for having filled his mouth with more of the hot bread.  I was happy for once.  For I remembered my other sad failures so vividly.  It was the climax to a happy day.

pages 134-136

Pages 134-136

                About that time my father happened to look out of the window and there coming down that steep hillside heading for the canyon below was a man in a spring wagon with a black team of horses.  My Father knew that would be suicide.   Rushing out, he called at the top of his voice. Frantically waving his arms toward the road.  The man finally seeing him, stopped.  Father cupped his hands to his mouth, “Go back west to the road---you can’t make it this way.” The man headed in that direction, and it was not long until he drove up, his face white and his voice almost in a tremor.  And said.  “I’ve driven from Heglar to Malta, a distance of thirty-eight miles including to here, looking for Doc.  My wife was about to die when I left.”  The doctor went out to talk with him, told him he couldn’t promise when he’d get there, but he’d come as soon as he could.  That man had the most dejected look on his face when he couldn’t take the doctor with him.  But that was part of homesteading and horse and buggy days.

                While the doctor was talking, my brother came and said he was needed, and he hurried away.  So the twins were born,  May 1, 1913, the smallest about four and one-half ponds and the larger five and a quarter.  They decided to call the small one Ronald and the other Donald.  But the doctor noticed soon after they were born that the smaller seemed to keep his head sideways and didn’t take his nourishment well.  He grew worse as the days went by, finally twisting his head almost in the reverse.  The doctor and nurse said that he had come too soon and he wasn’t all formed.  I tried holding him.  He seemed so helpless.  Finally, he passed on after a week or more.  Father made the little white casket, and my sister-in-law asked Jim to say a few words for Ronald.  Then he was laid to rest just a few yards from their home in a grave over the hill by a large rock.  Since Ronald was gone, they decided they would call Donald, Parker Guy, Guy being his mother’s maiden name.

                We felt badly about this and it left a sadness we all felt.  My sister-in-law and the twin grew stronger as the days went by,  but one could see she carried a sorrow in her heart for some time.  But with her wonderful Christian spirit, she finally put it behind her and tried to act brave and cheerful.  It was an early, warm spring.  That alone would help to boost one’s feelings.

                Father had plowed the garden strip.  The wonderful new earth turned over dark and rich with each round the plow made.  How could anything help but grow in such soil with proper care?  My parents aimed to give it a try anyway.  The wild choke cherries added to the spring atmosphere with their bank of snow-like blossoms, as well as the sarvis berries, wild currants, and gooseberries growing on each side of Shirley Creek,  and wild strawberries in low, damp like places higher up in the hills.  Spring had really come to the valley.  Birds were singing in their sweetest tones, even the old magpie added his calls of “maggie” “maggie” every so often.

                The snows melting in the mountains made Shirley Creek a much larger stream and rushing somewhat faster on its way.

                Father had fixed a small milk house over the stream where Mother could keep and cool the milk. 

                Father and brother had finally gotten around to fixing the foundation and framing on our house.  Mother helped all she could in getting the garden in, for Father had so much other work crowding him.

                Jim went once again to Rupert to haul out more of his farm machinery.  Father and brother were being urged to start building the new ranger station so the ranger could move in.  So about a week later, when Jim again had gone to Rupert to get wire and haul the rest of his stuff, Father and brother had me go with them in the spring wagon and team to haul their tools and to bring the wagon and team back.  We left about eleven in the morning, going though from our place and up over the divide of the mountains and down on the other side to Fall Creek.  There we traveled through lovely big fir and spruce trees.  It was a beautiful trip and on up around the Sublett Dam.  The dam was quite full of water at this time of year.  People down in the valley around Sublett irrigated their gardens and hay fields with it.  It was about four in the afternoon when we reached the spot where the ranger’s cabin was to be built.  The lumber was all stacked close by.  Father built a campfire, and I made coffee and fried potatoes to go with the sandwiches and jar of beans Mother had sent.  That was our supper.  Night settles down early in the mountains.   We put op the tent and fixed our beds, then sat around the campfire until we became sleepy.  While sitting there, two small balls of fire seemed to be looking at us.  Finally , a second form shorter than the first appeared and sat beside the first.  As my brother said, “a mother coyote and her pup.”  A third small one with gleaming eyes sat at the other side.  “another coyote pup.  They smelled the food and are curious to know what the fire is.”  We sat quietly and so did they.  For some little time, this went on until one of us moved or broke a stick beneath our feet.  Off they went, disappearing into the darkness.  We had not long to wait to know if our guess was right , for in minutes after they vanished into the night,  a weird howling cry came back to us from some distance away. 

                It was a quiet, desolate, remote place, and it was not long until the cry of a wild cat pierced our ears, and out of the brush came a deer and a fawn, almost dashing into the fire.  We figured the wild cat must have been after or stalking the fawn.  The deer, and with the fawn at her side, paused for a moment in flight, then dashed away.

                My brother put more wood on the fire, and we sat for a while longer, wondering what next would appear.  The wild cat had no mind for giving up the fawn.  With another furious scream, he lumbered out of the brush in pursuit.  The fire was dying down once again , and we started to bed when a bunch of curious whiteface cattle stopped for a call.  We just scared them off by clapping our hands, and they went on about their business. 

                We were trying to get some sleep when along about midnight a bunch of range horses came calling to bet acquainted with our two.  My brother got up and hollered at them, but upon seeing him, they took off like a thundering herd.

                Well, all was well until about five a.m. in the morning when the Boomer pheasants or sage hens set up such a racket, it sounded like they were beating the air with their wings or grumbling deep in their throats.  Whatever it was, that was the last straw.  We got up, Father made coffee, fried potatoes , and cooked eggs and bacon.  My, how good that tasted.  That mountain air made me as hungry as if I hadn’t eaten for a week.  After breakfast I washed up the dishes and put things away.  My Father and brother went to sawing frame work and fixing on the house. 

                Father said, “When you are through, you better hitch up and start for home and go back by the dam,  Sublett Creek and Sublett.”  “Okay,” I answered.

                “A much longer way, but best for you.”

                After hitching up, I climbed into the wagon and was soon on my way, applying the whip.  I was moving along at a fairly good rate of speed.  I had gotten around by the dam now and heading for Sublett Creek when a fellow passed me on horseback.  He stopped, and I pulled up and from the looks of his clothes, I knew he was the ranger.  I said, “my father and brother are working on the ranger station. I just left from up there.”  “and did you drive around the dam by yourself?” he asked.  “why sure, why/” “Oh,” he said, “the road’s so narrow.  They dug out of the mountain around the dam.  My wife doesn’t even want to ride with me.  She’d rather walk.”

                I whipped up and was off again.  Looking back, I could see the ranger going on in a gallop, over the road to the ranger’s station to be there when they stared building.  Passing through wild meadows and by a lonely cabin at the foot of the mountain where an elderly couple spend their summers away from the heat and dust of the city streets, I found it quite a lonely-looking spot, but healthful and solitude was there.  They no doubt liked seclusion, or they wouldn’t have picked that.

                I was getting into farming country now, hayfields, grain, gardens, fruit trees, and lots of shade trees.  So many of the ranches set out those slim, tall Lumbardie poplar trees for windbreaks, planting them pretty close together.  People were out in the fields irrigating, plowing, harrowing the ground, making a seed bed, all very interesting.  Soon I began to see people now and again,  I knew and waved to them as I drove along.  I was at the Post Office now,  so stopped to pick up the mail.  There was a paper, a letter from some of my sister-in-law’s folks, and one from Jim’s parents.