rairie fire was
sweeping from the northwest. This was unwelcome news--but sure enough,
the red light was very bright and growing more so all the time. I
calculated the distance and decided to hasten on across the path of the
fire before it reached the road, so I started. I had miscomputed both
time and distance, so before I was aware of it, I found myself on a
small knoll, with the fire directly in front and coming on at a great
rate through the tall dry weeds and grasses. The horses snorted and
shook their heads, but I urged them on. They plunged forward and in a
very short time (although it seemed hours) we found ourselves out of the
flames. We paused but a moment to rest, for the ground was very hot. The
horses shook with, fright and their bodies were badly singed. We reached
home in safety, and I think Bill and Tom were no less thankful than was
I, to be out of the danger and discomfort of the situation.

In 1857 I moved from Decorah, Iowa, to Otranto on the state line. There
I found a number of families living in rude houses which were a poor
protection against the hard winters we had those early years. There was
plenty of good timber along the Red Cedar river, but the settlers were
farmers who had little or no experience in cutting and dressing logs and
for that reason handled their few small tools to poor advantage. They
were anxious, too, to be "breaking" the prairie so that a crop could be
harvested that first year. So after all, these first houses were rather
poor specimens of the joiner's craft. I was a carpenter and put up a
rather more substantial house than the others, but none too comfortable
during the winters that were to follow. The unbroken stretch of prairie
to the north and west of Otranto gave those old "northwesters" a
splendid sweep before they struck our frail little homes.

Fortunately there was plenty of fine wood, but the cracks were so
numerous and large in our houses that we veritably warmed the outdoors
in keeping ourselves warm. We chopped and sawed wood every spare moment
in winter and summer in order to keep the booming fires which were
necessary all winter long. We used to talk and think much of the
settlers who were on the prairie who were so unsheltered and far from
standing timber.

This "yarn" about one of them went the rounds and was enjoyed by all,
for the "victim" was a merry fellow and always ready for a joke, no
matter how great the privations and anxieties. The story runs t