Rush County Indiana
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Early Settlements in Rush County

    The people of Rush County have a laudable and earnest desire to learn all they can of the early settlement of their country. They want to know something of 'those bold pioneers, who, leaving all fear behind them, pushed forward into the unbroken wilderness, leaving civilization and all its comforts, to enjoy the wild, adventurous life of the frontiers. They braved the dangers of a primeval forest, from savage beasts and venomous reptiles, and what was still more to be dreaded, the hatred of the early and revengeful Indian, who regarded the white man as a trespasser and an usurper of his rights. The natural terrors of the wilderness were but a part of the evils to be met. The deprivations, the hardships, the exposures, and the unceasing labor that had to be endured to open up a home and rear a family in the grand old forests, that one shaded every acre of the fertile fields of Rush County, can not now be understood or realized. But these gallant spirits feared no dangers, they cheerfully labored in unremitting toil to open up a farm, where their loved ones should in the dim future enjoy a home and all the happiness that this word implies. Actuated by such noble incentives to action these men were invincible, they were the best and bravest men of their times; no coward or sluggard sought the dangers and labors of the wilderness. They were the advance guard of civilization, the pioneers of progress. The present generation wishes to know something of the every-day life of these fathers, mothers and young people of the olden times; something of their dwellings, their food, clothes, amusements, furniture and those things appertaining to the inner and social life.
In these pages devoted to the early settlers, an attempt will be made to explain all these matters so that all can easily understand. It is scarcely necessary to premise these accounts by stating that what is now Rush County was all a dense forest of gigantic proportions, no prairies, barrens or open woods; it was, indeed, in its truest significance a wilderness, grand in the wild luxuriance of a vegetation, the proof and product of the vast fertility of the virgin, soil. This rich soil, under the skillful labors of the agriculturist, has brought wealth and prosperity, of which every citizen is justly proud. The children of these old pioneers are now enjoying the blessings accruing from their labors. Beautiful farms, splendid houses, with every tasteful adornment of fruits and flowers, cultivated fields, meadows and pastures of blue grass that fully equal the far-famed fields of Bourbon County, Ky., with live stock of all kinds, meets us on every side. The capacious school-house in every neighborhood attests the educational training of our children, while the many handsome churches indicate the religious and moral character of the citizens. The change from the wild woods to the present state of high cultivation, civilization and refinement, has all been wrought in sixty seven years or less, for the land office in Brookville was not opened for the sale of lands until the first Monday in October, 1820. Compare this country in 1820 with what it is to-day, and you can form some idea of the vastness of the change in the physical appearance of the country and its material wealth.
    The very first settlers were squatters. Some of these after the land office in Brookville was opened  purchased their homes and went to work to open up a farm, but the majority were hunters and trappers, whom a restless spirit of adventure ever kept on the frontiers; they were the avant coureurs of the white race; always in advance of emigration; as soon as the men who sought a permanent home settled near them, they pushed farther into the wilderness, where the ringing blows of the axe had not driven away the game. This type of squatters were a peculiar people, brave, skilled in all the mysteries of woodcraft, wonderfully self reliant  and cool, hospitable and generous, they were utterly uncultivated and rude; they despised the learning of the schools, and the polish and refinement of society, deeming them frivolous and effeminate, unworthy the attention of the free rovers of the forest.
First Settlers

    The Indians having ceded their title to the land, in the early part of 1819, and the most of them having left this part of the country, the squatters soon found their way into the abandoned hunting grounds, some for the sake of the abundant , game, others with an eye to a future home, to be secured when the land was thrown into the market. Of the latter class were several afterward well known in the early history of our county. Henry Sidorus was a squatter on land now owned by T. P. White, on the south side of Flat Rock; it was where the Indian trail leading from Connersville to the White River towns crossed that stream. He settled there in 1819; he was a keen hunter and skillful trapper. He built a house and stable, cleared some land, and had a wagon and horses. After the sale of the land he entertained land viewers and movers, assisting them with his team when needed. In 1821, he sold his claim to Joseph Smith for $100, with which he purchased eighty acres on the north side of Flat Rock, now a part of the farm of Mr. Jesse W. Smelser. After Indianapolis was laid out, he hauled the first dry goods from Cincinnati to that place, and also assisted in moving families and their household goods there. In 1823, he sold his land to John Smelser, for $300, and pushed out into what is now Champaign County, Illinois, and located in a beautiful grove, which bears his name, as does the post office and railroad station, now there. His son William has his home there still. Richard Thornberry settled on Flat Rock, some .four miles below Rushville, at the mouth of Hurricane Creek, in 1819. He entered his land on the 2nd of October, 1820. He remained an honored citizen of Rush, leaving many descendants. Isaac Will­iams squatted on the farm now owned by Andrew Guffin, a mile and a half north of New Salem, also in 1819; he entered his land in 1820. Samuel  Gruell squatted on what is now Arnold's Home farm, and his brother-in-law, Weir Cassady, on the Joseph Hinch-man farm. This was in 1819. Gruell sold his claim to John Ar­nold,  for $50,  in 1820, and then bought eighty acres where Matthias Parson now lives; this he traded to John Parson for a farm on  Nolan's  Fork  of  Whitewater. Weir Cassady also bought land in Rush, and was a citizen until his death. He left numerous descendants. His  widow died at the house of her son-in-law, John Oliver, in Rushville, within the last year. John Hale was a squatter on the land belonging to Thomas Cassady.  He entered 160 acres of land and afterward sold it to Wilson Laughlin, which is now Judge W. A. Cullen's home farm. He was a famous hunter, and as a slayer of deer there was but one in the county that could compete with him, and that was Ben Burton, another squatter and afterward a permanent settler.
    Those early days were not without exciting episodes, independent of the adventures and dangers of the forest. John Hale had made considerable improvements on the land he designed entering, and was making every effort to get together a sufficient sum to make the purchase. At this time, 1822, he ascertained that some parties from Kentucky had taken the numbers of the land, and had started to Brookville to make the entry. In this emergency he mounted his horse and galloped to Judge W. B. Laughlin to ask for aid in his dire distress. He stated the case to the judge and he immediately furnished him with the necessary cash. He then besought Harmony Laughlin to take his money and his horse and endeavor to overtake and pass the other party, who had some hours the start, and get to the land office first and secure the land. Fortunately for the party so deeply interested in the race, his horse had both speed and endurance, and Hale had charged Harmony to beat them there if it killed his horse. Inspired by this order and his natural energy, he dashed away through the dim pathway, at furious speed. Night had overtaken the Kentuckians at Judge Mount's, at the point afterward known as Metomora. Here they put up for the night, but Harmony made no halt but pushed on toward Brookville, where he arrived near morning, and as soon as it was light, hunted up the land office officials and made the entry, that secured to his friend Hale, the desired home. Shortly after the business was completed the Kentuckians arrived and to their intense chagrin, found that they were too late, that the other party
had traveled while they slept.
Character of the Pioneers

    After the first Monday in October of 1820, when the land office was opened for the sale of the new purchase, the lands were rapidly taken up by settlers. As a general rule they were poor men, with only money enough to buy from 40 to 160 acres, and every man went to work to literally hew out a home in the wilderness. Thus the whole country was being simultaneously improved. All recognizing their mutual dependence on each other, a spirit of kindness and helpfulness was engendered. One active factor in the development of the country was that every man, who sought to make a home in the forest, was a picked man, one who had volunteered to lead the forlorn labor of civilization against the rugged powers of nature. They were brave, patient, persevering and hopeful, determined to succeed. No labors, hardships, or privations could daunt them. It was a most fortunate thing for the welfare of our county, that there were no large bodies of unoccupied land, to defeat the neighborhood, for roads, schools and churches. There was but little land held by nonresident speculators, who could patiently wait in their distant homes, for the actual settlers, by their labors to make their lands valuable. The early settlers while representatives of the several states from which they came, possessed marked individuality. The consciousness of innate power made them self reliant and each one worked and managed according to the dictates of his own judgment and conscience. The cool and calculating Yankee was found side by side with the generous and impulsive Kentuckian; the proud Vir­ginian beside the plodding Pensylvanian Dutchman; the quiet and peaceable Quaker, from the Carolinas, by the side of the wild and reckless Tennesseean, and here and there was a grave Englishman or warm hearted and quick tempered Irishman. From the gradual amalgamation, of these strong and varied elements, has resulted the present moral, intelligent and prosperous community.
The natural advantages of this country which had drawn to it so many from their distant homes, willing to endure every hardship if it secured them a home, were a rich virgin soil, as fine and varied timber as can be found on earth, gushing springs and abundant streams, with a gently undulating surface pleasant and profitable to cultivate. These men had an abiding faith in the future, and a love for this land of their hopes. The estimation they had of it, may perhaps be well shown, by the utterances of a preacher delivered in the woods more than fifty years ago, near the Alger cemetery. The Rev. John Brown was an uneducated, but earnest and sometimes eloquent speaker. He was a New Light then, but afterward became a Christian preacher. His theme was the wonderful goodness, mercy and beneficence of God, in endowing his thoughtless, thankless creatures with so many and such rich temporal blessings. That if we could only realize these things, that the coldest heart, the dullest intellect would be vivified -by love and adoration of the great Giver. He then went on to say, that his audience had great and peculiar reasons for thankfulness. That their lots had been cast in pleasant places, for that America was the most favored quarter of the globe; that the United States was the best part of the continent; that Indiana was the best state in the Union; that Rush was the best county in the state, and finally that Ben Davis' Creek was the best part of the county; and then in most impassioned tones he exclaimed: "Beloved brethren, Ben Davis' Creek is the heart of the world!" This sentiment was audibly endorsed by Jacob Millburn, to the evident satisfaction of the assembled worshipers. Jacob Millburn was a typical mountaineer of western Virginia, one of the finest specimens of nature's noblemen, physically large and powerful, but by no means graceful in appearance or movement, unpolished in language and address, yet he was one of the gentlest and kindest persons that ever lived. No poor, distressed or unfortunate ever appealed to his sympathies in vain; to all such he cheerfully and ungrudgingly ministered with his time and money. To his kindred and friends, his generosity was boundless and untiring. In all his dealings he was just and honorable. Although the owner of a first rate quarter of land, and of indefatigable industry, yet possessing the traits of character above mentioned, it is not surprising that he did not prove to be a successful money maker.  But who can doubt, that when the dread hour of departure from this world came, the recollection of a life spent in the amenities of humanity, was far more soothing to his soul than would have been the possession of untold millions.
Life in the Woods

    When a pioneer was selecting land for his future home, of course he wanted good soil, good timber, good water, including springs for the use of the family, and if possible other springs or running streams for stock. He  always built his cabin near a spring, for the digging of wells was a dernier ressort The first thing to be done after selecting the site was to cut down and clear away the timber; then the building of the cabin was the next and most important undertaking. The usual size was about sixteen by twenty feet, varying according to the size of the family to be sheltered. It was built of round logs securely notched at the corners. The roof was composed of clap boards, four feet long, and about ten inches wide, and half an inch thick; these were generally of oak. They rested on round jogs, some three feet apart, and were kept in place by similar ones, the weight poles laid on top of them, which were kept in place by supports extending from one to the other at each end. For the fire place, an opening of eight or ten feet was cut out of one  end  of   the  cabin and the  chimney was built some five feet high of heavy, split slabs at each end of  the opening, notched into the building, and then notched into other slabs for the back, forming,  an enclosure,  say eight by five feet. Then the next thing was to thoroughly work clay so  as to form  a tough mortar. With this the jambs and back of the fire place were made, by piling it up about eighteen inches thick, and with heavy maul packing it solid. Then above this, came the graceful stick chimney, large at the bottom and then gradually drawing in for five or six feet, then built straight .up, and extending above the roof. The sticks were split square, so as to fit accurately, and as fast as it was built, was thoroughly and smoothly plastered inside and out, making a chimney safe and durable. The floor of the cabin was made of puncheons, that is split timber some four inches thick, the edges and upper surface were made smooth and straight with the axe. The joists on which they rested were round logs, with the upper surface hewed, a very solid and substantial floor, but not quite so tight as could be desired. The doors were made of thinner split boards, fastened by wooden pins to cross pieces, one end of which, projecting somewhat, had a hole to receive a pin fastened to the wall. This constituted the hinges. Generally on the side opposite the door, was the window, made by cutting out three or four feet of a log; in winter this was closed by paper made translucent by being oiled. In summer it was always open. The openings between the logs were effectual closed by being chinked and daubed, that is split pieces of timber were accurately fitted and driven in the chinks and then they were plastered inside and out with clay, closing the openings, and making a warm and comfortable room even in the coldest weather, when the vast fire-place filled with its mighty back-log, fore stick and smaller sticks, sent a torrent of flame up the chimney. The joists above were covered with clap boards making a low ceiling. The axe, the saw and different sized augurs were the only tools necessary for the construction of this primitive dwelling. No nails, glass, brick or sawed plank entered into it. The furniture was generally made with the tools above mentioned, and was rough and unpolished, but very substantial. The cradle, was an indispensable article in those times, for women then had, as a rule, large families and they were happy in them. This is very unlike their descendants of the present day, who though willing enough to enter into the married state, are loath to perform the duties and assume the responsibilities of that divinely ordained institution. Some indispensable articles were not of domestic manufacture. These were the large wheel for spinning wool and the small wheel for flax, and also the reel. These were supplied by the wheel-wrights, who floated on the wave of emigration, ready to supply by their skill the wants of the settlers.
    The above description applies to the average homes of the pioneers. Of course there were some, who having more abundant means built larger and better houses and had some furniture brought with great labor from their old homes. The rifle hung on every wall, for it supplied the meat for their tables. The fat bear meat and the juicy venison, the delicious turkey and the delicate pheasant made glad the hearts or the hungry children. The ring of the axe woke the echoes of the forest and ever and anon came the thunderous crash, as some mighty monarch of the grove fell beneath the woodsman's blows. The prostrate trunk was trimmed of its brush and smaller limbs, which were piled and burnt, and the trunk cut into convenient lengths, which with acres of others, formed the material for a future log-rolling. When ready, the neighbors were invited and came from far and near and assisted in piling them in vast heaps, and when they were burned illuminating the nocturnal heavens by their fierce light. No man refused to assist his neighbor, or kept account of the days spent in log-rolling or. house raising. Some times in the spring they would spend from twelve to twenty days in this kind of work. After this came the planting of their corn and other crops, which had to be done mainly with the hoe, as much of the ground could not be broken by the plough on account of the tough green roots.
    It may be asked how did the horse and cow subsist, without pasture for summer or meadow to furnish hay for winter. Then, in the shade of the woods, was found wild grasses, vines and other forage plants which have long since utterly disappeared, trod out by the foot of civilization. The horse and the cow with each a large bell attached to their necks, wandered at will, the sonorous tinkle of the bell guiding their owners to them when their wished to bring them home. In the evening the hardy boy took his father's gun, to drive up the cow, hoping perchance to find some game, ; that would be an acceptable addition to their larder. The cow fodder was all saved for winter, but the first year or two they had to depend principally on the browse of the elm, maple, beech and other fine twigged trees, which were daily felled for their use. This with a little corn, kept them fairly well, until the warm showers and genial breezes of spring awakened vegetation from its long sleep.
Blue Grass

    Another factor in supplying the food for stock, was the fact verified by the observation of all early settlers, that the blue grass was indigenous to this country, that it sprung up spontaneously wherever the land was cleared and left unbroken by the plough. So that in a few years this most nutritious of all grasses, was found in the fence corners and the cleared or partially cleared lands, around every cabin. Now it is found everywhere, when the land is cleared and unbroken, even though no seed has been sown by the hand of man. Along the road sides, the open woods and the permanent pastures it is found growing luxuriantly. A field sown in clover and timothy at the end of five years will be found to be a blue grass sod. It is permanent, never dies out or wears out, there are pastures on Arnold's Home farm that have been used for over fifty years, that now cannot be excelled by any in the county. Most other vegetable products after a longer or a shorter time, seem to exhaust the elements of the soil, necessary for their production, and fail, but the rich tenacious blue grass is perennial.
Work of the Men

    This has been pretty fully described in part relating to the building of the cabin and the clearing of the land, but a few words describing the different modes of clearing will not perhaps be amiss. One method was to clear it " smack smooth, " that is cutting down and burning up all the trees, grubbing all the underbrush and making the land ready for the plough. This implies a .tremendous amount of hard work. Yet there were not a few who by this mode of clearing earned enough money to buy themselves homes. Jonathan Bishop, in 1822, cleared ten acres for Isaac Arnold, on the farm now belonging to J. R. Kirkwood, for which he received $10 an acre. He .built a cabin on the land to  be cleared and moved  his  family into it, where they lived and toiled, until the contract was completed, when he received his hundred dollars; he  entered the  eighty acres now belonging to Marshall Blacklidge;  the land cleared and the land bought were both in Union Township. This is only one instance among many, that might be mentioned, but it is sufficient to illustrate the indomitable industry and perseverance of the men of those  times. Another and the most usual method was to clear eighteen inches and under. In  these later  days  it may be necessary to explain the meaning of this term. It implied that all trees eighteen inches in circumference and less, two feet from  the ground, were to be removed, the brush to be grubbed out, all logs to be burned, and all the trees left, where to be deadened. After the first year good crops were raised in these clearings. But the easiest way was to deaden forty or fifty acres and at the end of five years, grub  the  matted  and luxuriant underbrush, and in the dry autumn months go in with lire and axe, chopping down some, and firing all down or  standing and in a short time the dry and dead timber was consumed and the land ready for fencing and cultivation. This land was always more productive, than that cleared all off in the green. The reason for. this was that the small limbs falling to the ground and having rotted formed an abundant and rich humus, which ensured abundant crops, when cultivated. The cultivation of the land was  light in comparison with the hard labor of chopping, of house raising  and log rolling, which had preceded it. In the  first  settling, hunting was a necessary avocation, for it provided food for the family. It was not for mere amusement as it is now.
Wild Game

     Wild turkey and deer were the game usually sought for. The usual mode of hunting the deer was by day, the hunter gliding through the forest noiselessly, so as not to alarm them, and when one was sighted the trusty rifle did its work effect­ually. Another and an easier mode was to watch the licks at night. The licks were saline springs, where the deer and other graminivorous animals came to satisfy their desire for the saline. The hunter generally climbed a tree and then waited and watched until the unsuspecting creature, while slaking its thirst afforded a fair mark for the deadly rifle. Some of these licks were famous in early times and had their distinctive names. In the valley of Mahoning or Ben Davis' Creek there are several. The most widely known was perhaps the "Three Suck Lick" on the farm now owned by Dr. J. Arnold. It received its name from the fact of its having three of these saline springs, where the deer came to suck its waters. Now it is merely an unnoticed swamp or morass fifty or sixty yards in length and twenty or twenty five in breadth. Perhaps 100 deer were slain at this lick. It was known and utilized by the Indians, long before the foot of the white man had ever pressed its brink.
Work of the Women

    The labor of the men was hard enough, but that of the women was incessant and multifarious. All the cooking was done in the open fire-place, in pots, skillets and bake ovens. They were necessarily exposed to the direct heat of the blazing winter fires. The cooking stove, with all its convenient appliances, had not then been dreamed of. They not only made up all the clothing necessary for a large family, by hand, for sewing machines had not then been invented, but they also spun the tow, flax and wool, which they afterward wove into cloth suitable for the garments.
    The big and the little spinning wheels were found in every home and were in constant use. On the small wheel was spun the tow and flax thread, from which sheets, towels, tablecloths, shirts, pants and numerous other garments were manufactured. On the large wheel the wool was spun to be used in the making of blankets, flannels, jeans, linseys, stockings, etc. Prior to the erection of carding mills in the country, the wool, after picking and washing, was carded into rolls, by the same untiring hands that afterward spun it into yarn, wove it into cloth and shaped it into garments. There was much music in the large wheel in the hands of a skillful spinner. The loud, rapid and increasing buzz, until it reached its highest velocity, and then its gradual subsidence as the momentum given to it was lost, and this again and again repeated, in rapid succession, produced notes rhythmical and really musical. And it can be asserted in all sincerity and truth, that there is no employment or amusement in which the graces of form and movement of a beautiful woman can be displayed to greater advantage. See with what a firm, quick step she advances, in an instant winds up the thread of several- yards, just spun; affixing another roll, and with the right hand gives the wheel a rapid rotary motion, and with extended left arm draws "out the thread, as she quickly glides backward across the room.
    Soothed by the music, you could enjoy the graceful and rhythmical movements of this now obsolete employment. It was nevertheless hard work and few could spin their dozen cuts (a day's work) without absolute fatigue. The women of the present generation, when they with retrospective glance, view the multiform labors of their mothers, and compare them with their own, must feel grateful that they were not born in the early years of this century. Now abundant means' supply their wants; handsome, convenient well furnished houses are their homes, provided with all the appliances of taste and literary culture, and where the cooking stove has superseded the huge fire-place, the sewing machine hand sewing, and the music of the organ or piano has taken the place of that of the spinning wheel. In short they live in the enjoyment of all the benefits of all the wonderful discoveries and improvements, that have characterized this nineteenth century, tending to lessen labor and promote comfort.
Amusements

    The early settlers were not without their amusements, but some of these would now be considered work instead of recreation. The corn husking might be classed under this head. A farmer would pull his corn and throw it under sheds, near the cribs. Then when everything was ready invitations would be given to the young men of the neighborhood to come some night to the corn husking. The young lassies were also invited to assist in cooking and by their presence and their smiles to encourage the young men in the labors of the evening. They generally chose a moonlight night, but if this was not the case, the glare of torches lit up the scene. The flashing light of the torches added much to the wild and picturesque interest of the occasion.
    The first thing to be done was to choose two captains to  lead the rival bands of workers. They were selected with reference to their known skill and prowess in this  business. Then these two chose alternately from those present until a division was made. Then the corn pile was divided as evenly as possible. This was fairly done, for the one who made the division, had to let his opponent have the choice. Then each party sprung to their work,  striving to complete their task the first, and be the victors in the  exciting and friendly contest. The captains strove by their example and by every means in their power to stir their side to redoubled exertion. The merry tale, the jokes, laughter and roaring fun ruled the hour. The young men stimulated by the presence of the r lady loves and encouraged by their kind words, felt no fatigue, needed no rest, until their task was  done. The young women moved about among the huskers to encourage them and often had to pay the penalty of their friendly interest in the contest, for it was the law, that the young man who found a red ear was entitled to a kiss of the lass he loved the best, if he could get it, and here came in the fun, for frequently the woman did not reciprocate the feeling of her ardent admirer, and would refuse to pay the penalty, running away and if caught, resisting vigorously. This was exciting fun  and made the hours pass swiftly by, and presently one of the great piles of corn was husked and the triumphant shouts of victory rang the midnight air, and all joined in finishing the remainder. Then came the old fashioned hearty supper, which was keenly enjoyed by all, with appetites sharpened by labor. After supper there was generally some rural plays indulged in by the young folks. And finally in the wee small' hours they scattered to their several homes, the gallant youth and tender maiden as happy and contented as the participants in the grand and fashionable balls of our great cities. And why should they not be? for while human nature is the same in every clime and condition, the hearts of the young are alike susceptible to the tender passion and capable of realizing all the exquisite pleasures of love's young dream.
    Another amusement of the young was the chopping and quilting frolic. Some settler, anxious to get some ground cleaned, and also to afford an opportunity for enjoyment to his friends, would give an invitation to the young men to come with their axes and spend the day in felling the trees of the forest, while his good wife would invite the young women to come and with their nimble fingers and sharp needles to assist her in completing the ornate and beautiful work of the quilt. The music of the axe swung by stalwart arms, accompanied by the frequent crash of falling timber, continued through the day, and in the evening, the quilt being finished was taken out of the way, and the play and the dance took place, which amply repaid the labors of the day.
    The Singing School was another institution of early times. The teachers were generally itinerants, who traveled through the country organizing schools in every neighborhood, which they visited at stated times, and strove to train the voices to melodious sounds. These primitive singing schools were the cause of as much enjoyment as are the concert or the opera of the present day. The most popular and able teacher of olden times in this country was a colored man, known far and near as " Old Gabe." What his name was besides Gabriel is not now remembered. He was tall, gaunt and ungainly in appearance, but was skilled in his business and was liked as a teacher. His home was on the White Water.
    Shooting matches were alike popular with the old and the young. All were familiar with the use of the rifle and prided themselves on their skill. The matches were made by a number of persons uniting to buy a fat steer or heifer for beef. The animal was then divided into five shares, the four quarters and the hide and tallow. The best shot had the first choice, the next the second choice, until it was all taken up. At other times there would be but one prize, perhaps a rifle, or an axe, or a cow or a calf would be shot for. These contests were always interesting, not only on account of the value of the prize, but also the glory of the victory. Shooting at a mark even when there was nothing to be won, was a constant source of amusement, and was greatly appreciated by the frontiersman, and indulged in on all public gatherings, such as mus­ters, elections, etc. The skill of many with the rifle was indeed, wonderful. Snuffing the candle with their ball was a feat that required the greatest tact and coolness. After night a candle was lighted and placed against a tree, say forty or fifty yards distant, and then the object was to cut the lighted wick off, without striking the candle itself. Edward Swanson, afterward famous as the murderer of Elisha Clark, and as being the. only man in this county who has ever expiated his crime on the gallows, was the champion in this feat. His skill with the rifle was something wonderful, his sagacity as a hunter and woodsman could not be excelled. He was a typical frontiersman and Indian .fighter, cool, crafty and courageous.
    The migration of squirrels, which was of frequent occurrence in the early settlement of  this country, was a great injury and annoyance to the settler who had his little corn field, of two to five acres, almost ready to be gathered. The invasion of the countless hosts of squirrels was in  the autumn, and the course southward. No obstacles arrested their march or could stay their progress; they swam rivers, even the Ohio. They destroyed all the mast, and would have consumed all the grain in their course, had not the settlers at once organized for the defense of their fields. A call for a meeting was given, which was promptly responded to by all, for all were alike interested. Here the extent of the territory to be hunted over was defined; by subscription, prizes were raised, to be awarded to the two or three having killed  the largest number; judges were selected to count the scalps the scalp was the skin from across the head with the ears attached; these were strung on a strong linen thread with a needle at one end. After the settling of these preliminaries, every man hastened home to prepare for the grand hunt of the next day. Bullets were cast, patches cut, wipers prepared, flints picked, and everything necessary for success made ready. Bright and early on the eventful day each man, with his driver, generally a boy, entered the forest. Soon the sharp, almost incessant, crack of the rifle, on every side, told that the slaughter had begun. This went on without intermission until evening, for every man carried his lunch of corn bread and dried venison or something else in his pocket, so that no time should be lost. At the  time  and place agreed on, they met with their scalps, the trophies  of  their  skill, to be  counted and the work of the day summed up. Some would bring their hundred scalps, so that the aggregate of the hunt would run into the thousands. This relieved that neighborhood of its pests. Among all these multitudes not a fox squirrel was found. They were the gray, with a few
black among them; they were the aborigines of this country. The fox squirrel came in later. No one ever saw a fox squirrel in this county until after 1842; now they have almost entirely superseded their gray congeners.
Hunting and Trapping

    Many of the early settlers, not only the squatters, but many of those who bought land were, by choice, hunters and trappers and enjoyed the free life of the wilderness, and had but little liking for the steady labor of opening a farm and cultivating the crops. These kept their tables well supplied with venison, wild turkey, pheasant, quail, squirrel and other game. The deer skins were tanned and made into hunting shirts and pantaloons, which were more durable than anything now to be found in the shops of our merchant tailors. They would often sell their game to their neighbors or exchange it with them for corn or other necessaries or commodities which their families required. In the winter they spent most of their time trapping fur bearing animals, such as the beaver, the otter, the mink, the muskrat, the raccoon, etc. The skins of the first three, even in those days, brought good prices and enabled these men to provide for their families as well as many of their neighbors, who spent their time in clearing land and in agricultural pursuits. But when the opening of the country had driven the game away, they became discontented as their favorite avocation was gone, sold their possessions and went westward toward the setting sun. But nearly all the early settlers were lovers of the chase and enjoyed its pleasures as often as they could do so, without neglecting their regular business
.
Dress

    When it is remembered that nearly every article worn by man or woman was of home manufacture, the product of toil­some labor, it will not be surprising that utility and not fashion guided the hand that made the garment. The mother who broke and hackled the flax, spun and dyed the thread, wove the cloth, cut and sewed the garment, did not put in more material than was really necessary in her daughter's dress. The same thing would control the shaping of the winter garments; the hand that carded the wool, spun and dyed the thread and wove the cloth could not afford to sacrifice to fashion. All the materials for their clothing were intended for service and comfort. The pride of dress was then unknown, it was only on Sunday that the woman or man wore • their " store clothes," that is, she wore a calico dress, and he a cloth coat and pants. The buckskin breeches and the hunting shirt, a loose blouse worn with a belt, were well adapted for getting through the woods, as they would not tear, even if caught on broken limbs or brush.
    The manners of the backwoodsmen were frank and kind. Without the polish given by literary culture and intercourse with the po­lite and refined, they possessed a hearty sincerity and evident kindness that made a favorable impression on the stranger as well as on their immediate neighbors. True politeness is the expression of that respect for the feelings, rights and wishes of others, which we ourselves desire and expect from them. It is not a mere pol­ished verbiage that signifies nothing. It is only the carrying out of the divine precept to do unto others as you would have others do unto you. When tested by this standard, the pioneers were a po­lite people. There was one most pleasant feature of social inter­course in those days, and that was the universal respect shown to the aged. The hoary head of the grandsire was everywhere wel­comed with kindly attention and reverence. This was a most pleas­ing trait of character, and reflected honor on those practicing it. Truth compels the statement that there has been a great decadence in this particular in this country since those early days.
Hospitality

    This was one of the common virtues of those times, indeed, it was universal. The helpful, fraternal spirit, that prompted a man to help his neighbors, from twelve to twenty days every season, in house raising and log rolling, caused him to welcome the stranger and the newcomer to the comforts of his home, looking for no compensation beyond the consciousness of having done a humane and Christian act. They felt that they were simply doing their duty and they would not be satisfied to do less. Besides this innate principle of action, they all felt that they were dependent on the help of others in many things, and consequently cheerfully gave needed assistance to their neighbors so as to merit and receive the same in return. "When a man had made a successful hunt he divided his game with his neighbors, or if there was some poor, unfortunate or sick man, he was kindly and bountifully remembered.
Trade

    In the early days, before the farms were cleared up enough to produce a surplus, money was extremely scarce, and the business of the country was done by traffic or trade. For instance, a man wanted some clearing done and offered a cow and calf, a sow and pigs, or a horse, as the price for a certain number of acres. This would suit some stalwart neighbor, who had more energy and industry than pecuniary resources. The work was done and both parties were satisfied with the trade. A hunter had some fine dressed buckskins, which some one else wanted to make clothes for his boys, and gave him a certain number of days' work for them. One had twenty five or fifty bushels of grain to sell, another made so many panels of fence for it. A man took his dried venison hams, his otter or coon skins to the store-keeper and traded them for goods indispensable in his  family. Thus much of the business of the country was transacted without money. As the farms became cleared up there was a surplus produced beyond the wants of the neighborhood. For this there was no market nearer than Cincinnati. The man who had thirty or forty bushels of wheat to sell loaded it in his wagon and started for market, traveling by routes, by courtesy called roads, he took his provisions and horse feed with him, and when night overtook him, camped for the night near some spring or creek, fed his horses, cooked his supper and slept in his wagon, which had a cover. In this way he proceeded for three or four days, when he would reach the city. Here he disposed of his load at the; great tall five storied stone mill, on the Ohio River bank, near the foot of Sycamore. Street, for from 40 to 50 cents per bushel. With his hard earned money he bought his salt, iron, groceries and dry goods. If he had hogs, he united with several of his neighbors, to take their stock to market. To drive fifty or one hundred wild elm peelers seventy or eighty miles, through an unfenced country was a heavy contract, for it implied the necessity of frequent races, after those that would make a break for liberty or home, the tramping through deep mud, wading of rivers and exposure to inclement weather. But there were always plenty of boys and young men ready and willing to go for their board and small wages, for their curiosity had been excited and their imaginations fired by the reports of the wonders, the pleasures and the wealth of the city. The hogs were sold for from $1 to $1.50 net weight. It was considered a good lot that averaged 125 pounds. Corn was worth from 10 to 15. cents per bushel. With these modes of marketing and these prices, it is readily understood that economy was a necessary virtue.
Agriculture

    This was rude and difficult; after the land was cleared, the number of stumps and the multitudinous green tough roots rendered the work of the plough difficult and imperfect, and it was necessary to supplement it largely with the hoe. But in spite of these disadvantages, everything planted grew luxuriantly, stimulated by the wonderful fertility of the soil. Their farming implements were of the most primitive description. The old "Bull Tongue" plough would now be an object of curiosity and ridicule. The wheat was sown broadcast and harrowed in by a rude harrow or by heavy brush dragged over the ground; when ripe, it was cut with the sickle or reaping hook. This was a slow process, the reaper grasped a handful of the grain, and by a quick drawing motion it was cut off and laid on the ground and other handfuls added until there was enough for a sheaf, when it was bound.    After many years, the cradle was introduced, which was a great improvement on the sickle. The cradle had a handle and scythe blade, like an ordinary mowing scythe, but it had also an upright perpendicular to the blade of the scythe, and into this were fastened curved pieces of hickory called ringers; the use of these was to catch the grain cut by the blade and enable the cradler to throw the grain in a heap ready to be bound. Every swing of the cradle cut a space some six feet long and two to three feet wide. A good cradler would cut down four to five acres a day, but it was extremely hard work to swing this instrument from early morn to dewy eve. The thrashing was done by the flail or was tramped out on a barn floor by horses ridden and led around by boys, some one with a fork continually throwing the sheaves in their place, to ' be tramped. This was much more expeditious than the flail. When the grain was thrashed, next came the cleaning or winnowing of the grain. The primitive mode was for two stout men to take firm hold on either end of a sheet, and while a third poured slowly from a half bushel or something of the kind, by a quick violent shake to create such a strong current of air that it swept away the chaff while the grain fell to the ground ready for the mill. This was hard and slow work. What a change fifty years has wrought. Now with improved ploughs, rollers and harrows, the ground is prepared, and with a two horse drill the seed is evenly distributed and covered so as to ensure the germination of every grain. When harvest time comes, the farmer hitches his horses to the self binder, drives into the field and cuts and binds from ten to fifteen acres a day, with no more labor than it requires to guide the horses, as he rides on the machine. Now when the grain is ready, the steam thrashing machine comes into the field and thrashes and completely cleans from 800 to 1,000 bushels in a day. What a triumph of skill and ingenuity! What a saving of human labor!
Land Entries

    No land was or could be entered, before the first Monday in October, 1820, when the land office at Brookville, was opened for the sale of the lands of the new purchase, as all that territory was designated, lying west of the boundary line of the twelve mile purchase, said line being about four miles west of Connersville. In the three months of 1820, there were 168 persons made entries of land in what was afterward Rush County, some of only forty acres and others of varying amounts, from eighty to 640, but there were more of eighty and 160 acres than any other amounts. In 1821, there were 278 persons made entries. In the succeeding four or five years the land was taken up still more rapidly. In the beginning there were several nuclei of settlements. Men found it to their advantage to settle near others for mutual assistance. Thus there were a number settled in what is now Noble Township, Jehu Perkins, Isaac Williams, Conrad Sailors, Isaac Stevens, Jacob Starr, John Pogue, James Logan, Aaron Lyons, John Laforge, John Beaver, Peter Looney, Henry Myers, Lewis Smith, Jacob Sailors, George Taylor, Aaron Wellman, Solomon Bowen, Elias Poston, Robert Stewart, James Wiley, John Gregg, John P. Thomson, Abraham Hackleman and his two sons, Elijah and Abner, Thomas arid Stephen Lewis, and many others of note in early times, and who are represented by their descendants. In what is now Union Township, Ben Davis' Creek, or as it was called by the Delaware Indians, Mahoning Creek, seemed to be the center of attraction. Among the very earliest were John Arnold, John Houghton, Rans Byrd Green, Thomas Sargeant, John Horlock, Amaziah Morgan, George and Michael Hittle, Samuel Danner, Samuel Newhouse, John Nash, John and Richard Blacklidge, George Nipp, Isaac Arnold, John McMillen, Wills Buzan, Jacob Virgil, Elisha Clark, Peter Shafer, Edward Swanson, George and Matthew Zion, John Clifford, Sam­uel Durbon, John Morris, Obadiah Seward, Philip and Richard Richee, Isaac Sparks, David Looney, Samuel Bussell, Lawrence Aspy, Conrad Hilligos, James and John Hinchman, John Brown, Thomas, Henry and James Logan, John Garrison, Isaac and Abraham Fleener, David Low, Hiram Kindall and Robert Groves.
    In what is now Richland Township, a nucleus of settlement was formed in 1820 by George Brown, Jesse Morgan, James Hender­son, John Ray, John Enrick, Joel Craig and James and John Gregg. In what is now Ripley Township the settlement was begun in 1821, by Thomas, Nathan and Jonathan Hill, Dayton Holloway, Nathan White,  Benjamin  Snyder,  Andrew  Thorp  and Benjamin Cox.
    The settlement of Rushville Township began very early; Richard Thornberry was a settler before the sale of the lands, buying the pieces on which he had squatted. In 1820, Judge W. B. Laughlin, Stephen Simms, Christian Clymer, Houston Morris, Lot Green, Daniel Smith, David Morris, Elijah Lewark, Wesley Moffett, George Mull, John Parson, Cuthbert Webb, Andrew Gilson, Sam­uel Jackson, John Hale, Sampson Thomas, Simeon Cassady, James McManus, Presby Moore, John Phillips, Thomas McCarty, John Oliver and many others located here. These were the principal points of the very early settlers, but the other parts of the county were rapidly filled up in the next three or four years
.
Early Industries

    Judge W. B. Laughlin built the first grist mill in the county, in 1821. It was south of where the town of Rushville stands, on the land now owned by Aaron Frazee, the dam was where the south bridge now crosses Flat Rock. This was a great convenience to the pioneers of this county as they had to go heretofore to Connersville to do their milling. But some two years later a season of unprecedented amount and fatality of, sickness devastated the young town of Rushville. The citizens excited and alarmed attributed this to the damming of Flat Rock, and considering it their right and duty to abate the fatal nuisance, rose en masse and destroyed the dam. But this did not materially lessen the ma­larious elements generated by the exposure of a damp soil teeming  with decaying vegetable matter to the direct rays of the sun. At this time Jehu Perkins had a distillery on his farm and a horse power tread mill for the grinding of corn. Some years later he built a mill on Little Flat Rock, near where the Pleasant Run Bap­tist Church now stands. William Robinson built a steam mill on the farm now owned by Abijah Hunt; these were in what is now Noble Township. At an early day John Woods put up a mill at Mos­cow, built of round logs, he also had a still house there, as had Joseph Owens. These with their old fashioned copper stills amply supplied the spirituous wants of this, then notorious, town and its vicinity. Robert Hill built a saw mill in 1827, and one year later a grist mill, at the place now known as Carthage. Dayton Holloway built the next mill in that neighborhood.
    In Union Township John Smelser built the first grist mill in 1822 or '23, on Flat Rock, which was for very many years the best and most popular mill in the county. A few years later he erected a large distillery at the same point, and also a saw mill. But Peter Shafer erected the first saw mill in this township, on Ben Davis' or Mahoning Creek, on land now belonging to George Gray, south of J. W. Looney's farm. Some years later Jonathan Bishop built a saw mill on the land now owned by Marshall Blacklidge, and a Mr. Lewis put up a grist and saw mill on land now owned by Mrs. Emily Coleman, and Reuben Roland put up a grist mill on the farm belonging to the Hon. A. M. Kennedy. These were all on the same stream.
George Nipp erected a saw mill on Flat Rock at an early day on land now the property of Purnell Bishop. Some years later Adam Ammon put up a grist and saw mill, which is now known as Nipp's mill. A Mr. Carr had a mill also on Flat Rock a mile above Raleigh. In Posey Township Jacob Reed built the first mill, and soon after Jonathan Ball built a grist and saw mill. These were the mills that were sufficient to supply the wants of the early settlers, but as the country became cleared up and its resources developed there was a demand for larger and better mills and factories of various kinds, which have now been abundantly supplied.
Old Settlers Meetings

    As years rolled on, and one after another of the gray haired pioneers, the fathers and the mothers of the present prosperous people, went to their rest, and their voices, that had so often thrilled our hearts with their stirring narratives of early times, became hushed forever, an earnest desire and determination arose to perpetuate the memory of these noble pioneers and their herculean labors, which have transformed the wilderness into the ' present happy, prosperous and beautiful County of Rush. To carry out this pious determination Old Settlers' Meetings were instituted, where the veterans of the past could meet and enjoy a reunion with their old comrades, who had stood shoulder to shoulder with them in their days of labor, of hardship, and privation, where they could recount their experiences, adventures and the incidents that make up the history of our  county. In 1869, after one or two preliminary meetings, the Old Settlers Association was organized, with the Rev. D. M. Stewart as President, and the first regular meeting was held the third Thursday and 19th day of August, at the fair grounds. The committees, who had charge of it, had done well their part; a very large crowd of the Rush Count}?- citizens were there, with well filled baskets prepared to spend one day in the enjoyment of social intercourse with their friends and neighbors, and in listening to the tales of other days as told by the grand old patriarchs, who yet remained among us.
    A number of distinguished men from a distance came in response to invitations. Among these were Governor Baker, Col. Blake, James M. Ray and Dr. Ryland T. Brown, from Indianapolis. The President, Rev. D. M. Stewart, called the meeting to order, at 10 A. M., and Elder John P. Thompson invoked the divine blessing and guidance on the exercises of the day. Letters from Elijah Hackleman and John Tyner were read, expressing their regret at not being able to be present on this joyful occasion. The President invited the old settlers to come forward and give some of the incidents and reminiscences of the early days of our county. Col. Joseph Nichols, J. P. Thompson and Col. Blake entertained and instructed the audience by relating their personal experiences in frontier life. The meeting now adjourned until 2 P. M., and a dinner, such as Rush County maids and matrons always get-up, was heartily enjoyed by all, in the free open air, beneath the grateful shade of the beautiful grove. The meeting having again been called to order, Harmony Laughlin and Peter Looney exhibited a number of interesting relics of olden times. J. M. Ray gave a sketch of the settlement of the country between White Water and White River.    Dr. R. T. Brown then addressed the meeting, and, among other things of interest relating to our county, said that he had taken the first census of Rush County. Isaac Patterson George Davis, Wm. Williams and A. M. Kennedy then made remarks suitable to the occasion. On motion of Rev. D. M. Stewart, the third Thursday in August was adopted and consecrated to the memory of the brave pioneers of Rush County. Since then this has been a sacred day to our citizens.
    Perhaps a full account of one of these meetings of later date, would give a better idea of their general tenor, and the spirit pervading the proceedings, than any general description. I here present the report of the eighth annual reunion of the Old Settlers, held on the third Thursday of August, 1876: "The audience was large and appreciative, the speeches very interesting, being the narratives of personal experiences and recollections. The statistical mortuary record, read by the Rev. D. M. Stewart, showed that since the last meeting in August, 1875, some forty of the old settlers have departed this life and have gone to try the realities of the unseen world. This shows how rapidly they are passing away. The result of the election for officers was, Dr. John Arnold, President; Dr. W. H. Smith, Secretary; T. N. Link, Treasurer; and Rev. D. M. Stewart, Statistician. The Rev. Samuel Houshour gave a graphic and very amusing description of his failures in various financial speculations, but referred with just pride to his success as a teacher, and wound up by a few most forcible and appropriate remarks addressed to the youth present, reminding them of their great obligations to their parents, who by industry and economy, had started their children on the journey of life under circumstances so much more favorable than they had themselves enjoyed. Mr. A. M. Kennedy, Mr. Jesse Thomas, Uncle Peter Looney and several others, gave interesting life experiences of early days, house raisings and log rollings, from eighteen to twenty five days during one season, besides doing their home work. The amount and severity of the labor necessary for clearing off the forests was clearly shown.
    " Mr. Charles Loehner, of Indianapolis, made a speech amusing and instructive a combination of humor and good sense. Dr. John Arnold, upon taking the chair as President, delivered the following address: Ladies and gentlemen  With unfeigned gratitude I thank you for the honor conferred in choosing me to preside over the meetings of the Old Settlers of Rush County for the ensuing year. I appreciate the honor, for the subject matters there discussed are consonant with my fondest feelings and deepest sympathies, relating as they do the reminiscences and experiences of the brave pioneers of this country. It is meet and proper that we should do as we have done to-day, assemble occasionally and review our recollections of the interesting incidents, the bitter privations and incessant labors of those who have preceded us, by listening to the true, the unadorned, and the deeply touching tales of the venerable survivors. It is a grateful privilege to listen to the words of these brave men and women, who more than half a century ago entered the then unbroken wilderness, animated by the hope and the determination to make for themselves and their children a home in this rich and pleasant land. Nerved by this heroic motive, they were undismayed by toil or hardship, and by their energy and perseverance laid broad and firm the foundations of our present moral and social prosperity.
    Though mere words can never pay the debt of gratitude we owe them, still let us show these venerable representatives of a past generation that we heartily appreciate their services and will honor and perpetuate their memories. Every year their number is becoming less. Every year the pioneers of Rush County, in response to the roll call of death, are passing, one by one, to that "undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns." But they are content to go, for they have lived long enough to witness the full fruition of their fondest hopes. During their lives the most marvelous changes have been effected. With retrospective gaze they can look back to that time when the mighty forests covered all the land, a forest in which the rich luxuriance of vegetation shaded every foot of the teeming soil. For in addition to the heavy growth of lofty trees, the dense and almost impassable undergrowth of spice brush, pawpaw and other shrubs, was seen a profusion of weeds and flowers of a hundred varieties, which have now disappeared, trod out by the foot of civilization.
" ' Bounteous nature still smiles, the same fertile soil, the same broad plains, the same mighty rivers and murmuring rills, greet them to-day, whispering many a pleasant tale of youthful happy times. But, in all else, how changed! The rude log cabin has given place to the splendid residence, with all its surroundings for comfort, convenience and beauty. The small, stumpy clearing to the broad farm, with its highly cultivated fields of grain and its rich pastures, stocked with the finest varieties of horses, cattle, sheep and hogs. The blazed trace and the Indian path to the well kept road, the turnpike and the railroad track. The saddle has been superseded by the carriage, and where our parents picked their devious way through the dim forest paths, we, reclining in luxurious ease on cushioned seats, roll along the broad, smooth, straight roads in carriages, whose every motion is as gentle as that of the infant's cradle. The school-house and the church, those best evidences of American progress and American civilization, and the only true safeguards of a free government, are thickly scattered over our land. But it is unnecessary to dwell longer on this topic, for the present is an open volume, which all may see and read for themselves, but of the fading past the almost forgotten past  we must acquire all our knowledge from the lips of those gray haired pioneers who yet survive to amuse and instruct the present generation.
"' You cannot wonder that my feelings, my sympathies and my associations are indissolubly connected with those early days, when I tell you that it is now over fifty five years since I first planted my foot on the soil of that farm, which has ever since been the home of our family, and which I am proudly happy to call my own. [t is endeared to me by a thousand tender and pleasing associations of childhood, youth and mature age. There is not a spot, a hill or a valley, a stream or a spring, and scarcely a tree or a shrub, with which I am not perfectly familiar, and I can hardly separate the idea of this farm from my own personality. The thought of selling it  of allowing it to pass into the unappreciative hands of strangers  is repulsive to every feeling of my heart and every instinct of my nature, and I hope to live and to die on it, surrounded by the many mementos of the irrevocable years that have passed since I first knew and loved it  this home of my heart.
    " I am gratified to see so large a number here assembled, in spite of the very unfavorable weather. Had the day been fine we should have had an unprecedented crowd, composed of the very best material of Rush county  I would, in conclusion, respectfully invite every one here present, to be with us again at our next meeting, on the third Thursday in August, 1877, and to bring all their friends and families with them, for we hope to make that occasion one of profit and social enjoyment ' a feast of reason and a flow of soul.'" Reminiscences  A Squatter and his Home. Jacob Dewey was a squatter on the fraction north of the Alger cemetery, in early days. He was a rich study. He was as poor as a man could be, but always happy, always cheerful, always patient under the sharp and often well merited reproaches of his better half, who would expatiate on his indolence, improvidence and recklessness in language more pointed than polite. He came from Fayette County, but what spot claimed the honor of his birth I know not, but presume he was a Yankee from the consummate skill displayed in the working of a bovine team. A pair of bulls was his most valuable and, indeed, almost his only worldly possession. With these he rolled the logs in the clearings, or with a rude sled hauled the rails for the fences of his neighbors, and thus eked out a livelihood, mainly obtained by his dog and gun, for he was a skilled hunter. He was a wild looking fellow, scarcely ever wearing anything to cover his long, tangled tawny locks except a fox skin cap, with its pendant tail behind, with his buckskin breeches rolled up to his knees, and his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows. The furniture of his cabin was scanty and of the rudest description, fashioned by himself with axe, auger and drawing knife. The wralls were ornamented with the skins of wild animals shot or trapped by him; but the crowning ornament was the skin of a tremendous yellow rattlesnake, with eighteen or twenty rattles, so well stuffed with moss that it represented the terrible reptile with startling effect. By the side of it hung the head and claws of a bald eagle. But whatever might be the poverty of his surroundings, his table was always bountifully supplied with the best of venison, wild turkey, etc. He did considerable work for Mr. John Arnold, who was much amused and interested by the quaint sayings and doings of this child of the forest. Early one spring he was hauling and rolling logs for him in the creek bottom, and, having run his handspike under a large log, then passed his arm under it to draw the chain through, when he exclaimed that there was ice under there, and as soon as it was rolled over, lo! there lay three large moccasin snakes, whose cold bodies he had mistaken for ice. Fortunately for him there had not been sufficient heat to arouse them from their winter torpor, and it was this that enabled him to pass his naked arm over those vicious reptiles with impunity. Under his rough, unpolished and sometimes reckless manners, was concealed a generous and a manly heart. He was ever ready to assist any one sick or in distress to the utmost of his power. He possessed a large share of that friendly fraternal feeling so common among the early settlers, and the loss of which we hear so frequently bewailed by the hoary headed patriarchs, who enjoyed its pleasant warmth in their youth, and now contrast it with the cold selfishness of the present generation. When John Harlock was killed by the fall of a tree, he was among the first and most earnest to offer his services to do anything that was in his power for the distressed family. Mr. Harlock had a large lot of hogs, which, like all others running in the woods, had become almost as wild and savage as the natural denizens of the forest. These Dewey spent several days in hunting up and driving home prior to the sale, and it was about as disagreeable a job as can be imagined, and when asked his charge felt and expressed great indignation that any one should think him mean enough to take pay from a poor widow for a  few days' work. In the bosom of this uncultivated backwoodsman flowed as true a spirit of chivalry as ever animated the lofty paladins of the court of Charlemagne. Dewey lived in this neighborhood some three or four years, until it became too crowded to suit his taste, when he pushed farther west, where the clearings were not so numerous and the game more abundant. He seemed to have no desire to own land and make himself a permanent home, and he doubtless lived and died a very poor but a very happy man.
Perhaps a few extracts from papers contributed to the Rushville Republican, in 1875, entitled,
 "Reminiscences of an Old Settler," by Dr. John Arnold, will help to give correct ideas of early times.
The first is from paper 18th, dated December 18th, 1885:
1"At the head of the carnivorous animals stood the panther, alike dangerous from its cunning and ferocity. Its lithe, graceful form, formidable teeth, terrible claws, and fierce eyes are familiar to all who have visited our menageries, but they can have but a faint conception of its wild and savage character when roused to fury in its native woods. The bravest hunter attacked it with caution ; made sure that the priming was in the pan and that his flint was in good order, and that his long hunting knife was loose in its sheath, for, he well knew, that if his ball failed to strike a vital part, the wounded and ferocious beast would inevitably attack him, and that perhaps after one blow with his rifle, his life rested on the cool and effective use of his sharp knife, and even then could not hope to come scathe less from the desperate conflict. Unless wounded they seldom attack a grown person. In the wild woods the panther successfully hunts the fleet deer, and their mode of capturing their prey exhibits their innate craftiness. Crouching himself on some overhanging tree, above the path leading to some lick frequented by the deer, he silently and patiently awaits his victim, and as soon as within reach, springs upon it with a wild scream of fierce triumph. On the borders of the settlements he is fearfully destructive of calves, hogs, sheep, etc., and has no objection to a child when it comes in his way. His sharp, peculiar scream at the midnight hour, echoing through the forest, is no pleasant sound, expressing the unappeasable ferocity of the beast, and suggestive of danger and death.
    "I shall never forget one winter night, when my father, having butchered his hogs, took a basket full of the fresh meat to my uncle Isaac Arnold's, I as usual, accompanying him. At that time I had a powerful dog called Ring of the native breed of mongrel hounds, valuable for its hunting propensities; a bold, courageous fellow, never known to quail before an animal of any kind, until that night. It was about a mile to my uncle's, the night was cold and starlight. Just after dark my father and I started, followed, I was going to say, by Ring, but the word is not correct, preceded would be more appropriate, for he went before, taking wide circuits, scouring the woods in every direction, in quest of game. We had gone but a short distance, when we were startled by the distant scream of a panther. In a little while it was repeated, but evidently nearer; this appalling sound was repeated every few minutes, evidently rapidly approaching us. After the third cry, Ring came rushing to us, following closely at our heels decidedly frightened, growling fiercely, but utterly refusing to go one step in advance of us. I know not whether, at some past time, he had a taste of the quality of the panther's teeth and claws, or whether his instinctive sagacity told him that there was something to be feared, but nevertheless, though scared, I believe he would have fought to the death, if we had been attacked. We had now gone more than half the distance, and retreat would have been as hazardous as advance, and my father decided to go on, and if the animal showed himself, to set down the basket of meat for his supper, and while he was devouring it, we would without standing on any ceremony, go on to Uncle Isaac's. But still the situation was not pleasant, and grew more exciting as we approached the clearing, and the savage beast rapidly nearing us, still emitting those wild and peculiar screams. At last he was so near, that we could occasionally hear the cracking of the brush, as he walked a short distance from, and parallel with us, and we momentarily expected him to make a decisive rush, but he did not do so, but just as we entered the gate he uttered a prolonged scream, the most intense and fearful of all, as it expressed, his rage and disappointment. This animal was doubtless attracted by the scent of the fresh meat, which induced him to treat us to such a serenade. After remaining an hour or so, we started for home, my uncle having provided us with two shot guns, heavily loaded with coarse shot, so that we were pretty well prepared to give the panther a warm reception if he should molest us, but we neither saw nor heard anything of him. He had probably gone away, or if he still lurked in those dark woods was silent. After remaining in the neighborhood, for some days, and committing various depredations on stock, he departed and we heard of him no more."
    The following is from the 19th paper of  "Reminiscences of an Old Settler," Dec. 24, 1875:
There were a few wolves occasionally seen in this part of the country for several years, after its first settlement, probably coming from the wilder regions of the northwest, where the axe of the pioneer had not yet disturbed the solitude of the primeval forest. A young calf or a pig was a tempting feast that they could not pass by, but mutton seemed to be the favorite flesh above all others, and the settlers who had a few sheep, whose warm fleeces, when transformed by the patient labor of his wife, into flannel, jeans and. linsey, should clothe and protect his family from the frosts of winter,, had to see that they were up every night and securely enclosed im a high pen near the cabin. Spite of all those precautions, they often fell victims to their natural enemies to the great loss and regret of the owner.
    The long, dismal howl of the wolf, uttered at intervals during the night, is not cheerful music to listen to, but does not instinctively terrify, as does the fell cry of the panther coming to the ear, fraught with the irrepressible ferocity of that animal. The dogs will eagerly pursue and readily attack the wolf, though there are few that willingly dare the terrors of the panther's claws. The wolf was not only destroyed by the rifle ball of the hunter, as he sought him in his hiding place in the dense and thorny thickets of the swamp, but the trap also did good service, frequently containing one of those fiercely snarling and snapping, beasts. The trap was built of substantial logs and bated with venison or some other fresh meat, which was securely fastened to a trigger, which being moved, brought down the trap, securely holding the frightened and furious wolf, in spite of all his desperate struggles. Another method, and one from the sport afforded and the success attending" it, perhaps the most popular, was the fall of a snow, for the hunters to turn out with dogs and guns and taking his track, tirelessly and relentlessly pursue to his death. Unless the rifle gave him his quietus, he fought desperately to the end, the quick snap of his powerful jaws, armed with their sharp teeth, making fearful wounds on the fiercely yelping pack surrounding him.
    It is a popular belief that the wolf has a peculiar penchant for the odor of assafoetida, and that if a person carries it about him, it will attract any within reach of its penetrating perfume. I have heard it stated by old hunters, that if a man rubs this fetid gum on the soles of his shoes, and then walks through the woods, where they are lurking, that in a short time, they will be scenting and following in his footsteps, and that by making a circuit back on his track he will be enabled to get a shot. I shall never forget while memory endures, a startling interview I had with one of these shaggy monsters. It was in the autumn of 1823, that for some two weeks, the nights had been made hideous by the melancholy howls of a wolf, who also made his presence known by various depredations on the stock of the settlers, who had hitherto failed to discover his hiding place, and give him his deserts. There was a young woman, living in our family, whom my mother had brought from England, named Jane Richardson. She, on account of some nervous affection, constantly carried, in a small bag suspended by a ribbon around her neck, some assafcetida, and being aware of the popular belief on the subject, had a perfect horror of wolves, being firmly persuaded that if she ever encountered one he would attack and destroy her.
    One day, day being sent on some errand to my uncle Isaac Ar­nold's, and being accompanied by  me, when we had got about half way there we heard a rustling in the dry leaves, and looking in the direction of the sound saw a gigantic wolf, with  his fore-feet resting on  a  log, deliberately surveying us. He was not more than  thirty or thirty five yards from us.     Poor Jane gave one look, then uttering scream after scream, fled for home as  fast  as her legs,  under the   stimulus of  overwhelming terror, could carry her.    I felt disposed to follow her example, but remembered that I had heard Swanson, a famous" hunter, a few days before say, that the wolf would not attack even a woman or child if they boldly faced him, but that if they turned and fled it would be sure to kill them. Now as Jane had got such a start and could probably out-run me, I concluded that if any one had to be eaten up it would be me, and that my only chance for safety was to put a bold face on the matter. These thoughts flashed through my mind quick as lightning, and I instantly picked up a handspike that had lain there since the rolling of the logs out of the road, and holding  it  perpendicularly before  me with  both  hands,  slowly stepped backwards, still keeping my eye on the wolf. He seemed to look at me with supreme indifference, neither manifesting fear nor anger, but turning his head, so as to keep his eyes on me as I retired. All at once he stepped off the log, threw his head back and gave one long loud howl and deliberately trotted away. I preserved my defiant attitude until he had disappeared and I could no longer hear the rustling of the dry leaves as he moved away, when dropping the handspike I turned and ran, and I can truly say that I experienced ten-fold more fear when running than I did while facing the foe. Long before I reached home I met my father and George Stretch (a hired hand), with their axes in their hands, running with all their might, my father wild with fright, for Jane had told him, as she ran past where he was at work, that a wolf had lulled me.    We hurried home, where Jane had preceded us, with the same wild tale, and found my loving mother almost frantic with that agonizing anguish, which only a fender mother can feel, when she hears of the terrible death of a  child  by sudden violence. When the wolf "moved away so deliberately through the woods, I never expected to see him again, but in this I was mistaken, for in about a week afterward he was killed by an old hunter, named Isaac Sparks, who sold his skin to my uncle Isaac, and he, after having it dressed, sent it to his brother, William Arnold, of Waytes Court, England, who prized it highly. And there I saw it again on my visit to the old home in 1841.
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