he east shore sitting upon our baggage, to wait for a
return trip. When I finally arrived across the river, there were Indians
gathered at the landing and they touched me on the cheek and called me
"heap pale face."

There was great joy in our little colony when that same autumn my father
discovered a fine cranberry marsh. Much picnicking and picking followed.
My parents secured seven bushel and alloted very much on the winter
supplies that these cranberries would buy when they could send them to
St. Paul, our only market.

Soon one of the neighbors prepared to set out on a trip by ox-team to
St. Paul. The only road at that time was by the Indian trail, which for
several miles was where the county road now leads from Robbinsdale to
Champlin. Then to the ferry at St. Anthony Falls, and so on down the
east side of the river to St. Paul.

My mother had made out a careful list of the real necessities to be
purchased, putting them in the order of the need for them, in case he
would not be able to buy them all.

She knew very well that there would be no possible way to purchase any
new clothing all winter and so the first items on the list were: new
cloth for patches and thread to sew them with. This latter came in
"hanks" then, instead of on spools.

After that came the list of provisions, as seven bushels of cranberries
were expected to buy a great many supplies. How well I remember the joy
upon my mother's face, when those precious cranberries were loaded on
the neighbor's already full wagon and the oxen slowly disappeared down
the old trail! It was a long tedious journey to be made in that way, and
they had many days to wait before they would receive the fruits of that
wonderful wagon load.

Finally the neighbor was back, and came to my mother and said: "Thee
will be disappointed when I tell thee that the last boat left for St.
Louis the day before I arrived in St. Paul. There is not a yard of
cloth or a hank of thread in the town, and I could only get thee three
brooms for thy fine cranberries."

The next spring my father made maple sugar and was able to buy a cow and
six hens from a man who came overland from southern Illinois, driving
several cows and bringing a box of hens, and so we began to live more
comfortably.

In 1856 many people came, and by that time we had school, church and
Sunday school and a lyceum, the pleasures of which I can never forget.
We also had a portable sawmill.

I think it was in th