Mr. Shearer was in the county 43 years ago, and stopped at Ring's tavern, the site of which he could not find during his visit in 1877. Then he could see the whole city easily; but now it had been built up so that he could not. Forty-three years ago he settled in Ingham county, in the town he himself christened Bunker Hill. There was no school-house there, none in Jackson, and none in Flint, so he went to Plymouth, and finding one there located in that town, and has lived there ever since. In that time he lost his was near Lansing, while traveling through the woods, and fell in with Col. Hughes and Maj. Wilson, who were in the same predicament. They wandered together looking for the trail, but without success. Their provisions ran out and they ate elm bark; and after that failed then they used bass-wood root bark as a substitute. After a time they fell in with an Indian who directed them to a house which had just been built, eight miles or so from Jacksonburgh. They walked along and at last saw a cow, and then Mr. Shearer exclaimed to his companions, "Glory to God! We have reached the pale of civilization."

     They found the house was newly built, with a blanket hung up for a door. They were delicate about putting the blanket aside; so they knocked on the logs, and a beautiful little woman showed her face. The travelers saw there no floor, but on the shelf they saw Johnny-cake that made their mouths water. They told her they were hungry, and asked for food. She told them they might have all they wanted, and she supplied them with bread and milk, and kept them over night. When they went away next day, they left her four silver dollars. Afterward, he learned, she told a neighbor that they were angels, and that money never was so good before, as they were entirely out of it at the time. Her name was Mrs. Tanner, and the narrator was quite affected by the intelligence of her death.