ge has weakened them, does not the
pattern remain?

LUCY LEAVENWORTH WILDER MORRIS.

OLD TRAILS CHAPTER

Minneapolis

LUCY LEAVENWORTH WILDER MORRIS

(Mrs. J. T. Morris)

Mr. Eli Pettijohn--1841.

Mr. Pettijohn, now ninety-five years old,[2] clear in memory,
patriarchial in looks, says:

[Footnote 2: All pioneers over ninety are so introduced as we feel that
no state can show so large a number who have the same mentality]

I came to what is now Minnesota, but was then a part of Wisconsin
Territory April sixteenth, 1841. I was on my way to work for the
Williamsons, missionaries, at Lac qui Parle. I landed from the large
steamer, the Alhambra, at the Fort Snelling landing. I climbed the steep
path that led up to the fort, circled the wall and came to the big gate.
A sentinel guarded it. He asked me if I wanted to enlist. I said, "No, I
want to see the fort, and find a boarding place." He invited me in. I
looked around this stone fort with much interest and could see Sibley
House and Faribault house across the Minnesota river at Mendota. There
were no large trees between the two points so these houses showed very
clearly. The ruins of part of the first fort which was of wood, were
still on the bluff about one block south of the new fort.

I asked where I could find a boarding place, and was directed to the St.
Louis house, near where the water tower now stands. Before proceeding
there, I stood and watched the Indians coming to the fort. I was told
they were from Black Dog's, Good Road's and Shakopee's villages. The
trail they followed was deeply worn. This seemed strange as they all
wore moccasins. Their painted faces looked very sinister to one who had
never before seen them, but later I learned to appreciate the worth of
these Indians, who as yet were unspoiled by the white man's fire water.

I was told that the St. Louis House had been built after the fort was,
by Mr. Baker, a trader, to accommodate people from the south, who wanted
to summer here. It was now deserted by its owners and any one of the
sparse settlers or traders would occupy it. He said a trader by the name
of Martin McLeod was living there and that Kittson, another trader,
lived at his trading post about fifty yards away from the house. There
was a good wagon road about where the road is now. My friend, for such
he later became, told me it led to the government mill at the Falls of
St. Anthony, but that it took longer to walk it tha