Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1862-06-18
Written for the JoURvAL.
HI OTSAEI AND JETSAgi.
The Old Settler.


The Other day whilst on visit to Taylor
Falls, I fellin with one ofthe early settlers of
the st Croix Valley, and by thisI do not mean
one whose experience reaches back some Is or
l6 years only 't'"
iSiaty gears ago, Mr. Conner the subject OF
of this sketch ean1e up the Mississippi FLYER
from Prairie du- CHEN and following the wat
ors of the ST Cfoix towards their source, settled
on Y elbow Lake in the Superior country.
a party of some five or six Of Us, all young
men, had goneup on an excursion to the
| Falls ofSt Croix, and as we sat on the ground
at the old IN ans feet within sight and hearing
of the Falls, snd listened to his tales of early
frontier life the houses and mills and othereY-
/ licences liberalization seemed to fade from orr
/ view, and fancy once more peopled the fores.
with the redskins and covered the waters with
/ their canoes; once more the "soundine aisles of
! the forest rang" with the fierce war-cry of the
aborigines, the 1.-the and supple forms of the
| warriors, in all their bar5aric show of war
j paint,and feathers, seemed TO fit stealthily a.
mong the trees,and the battle shouts and death
songs ofthe chiefs seemed as of old to nlingle
with tie roar Of the Falls.
In the course OF our conversation Mr. Como
mentioned, that the last great battle between
| the Sioux and Chippewas was fought near to
where the city of Prescott now stands One
of our party asked him, chow long ago that
was?" Mr. Conner was unable to give us the
, exact date, but tod us that his informant was
an Indian brave whom he knew nearly sixty
years ago, and v no when quite young mrn.
had taken pant in the battle,and when Mr. C
formed his acquaintance was over one hum
dred yeas Of age.
And there we sat, listening to AN unwritten
history of the Northwest, extending back al
|. most an hundred and sixty years. the last rays
ofthe setting sun falling on elttle group
"The young heart hot and restless,
And the old subdued and slow"
the newly started on the realities of life's
voyage. and the weatherbeaten old hulk, bear
ing marks of many rough gale and hard tenn
pest nearing port at last, ready 10 furl sails and
drop anchor and be at rest.
"Aly old woman has been dead some years
and my boys are scattered one here, another /
there, and am left all alone now" and yet
hardly alone. surely eighty years of active and
stirring life, such his mu-t nave furnished |
food for reflection in the long evening of his !
DAYS.
Sixty years of frontier life cannot tie entire
" barren of incident, he can look ack and. in !
his minds eye see the country in its wild
beauty, fresh from the bands of its Maker; and !
as memory rolls Bac}; the curtain from before
the dim vista Of the past ears, he can see vii
lage, town, and city gradually bringing into
existence, the smoke breathing "Fire-canoe
ploughing the waters hitherto furrowed only |
by the light birch bark "cheemaum, and all /
wonderful appliances and inventions of this
wonderful 18Th Century, developing the vast
resources of the Great West.
What varied experience must so years Of
life in this age Of wonders bestow.
A lad OF IS summers, rumor reached him /
in his tar off Canadian home, of strange YES
sci navigating the Waters ofthe Hudson, and
driven against wind and tide at the rate of 4
miles an hour, few years more, and'thc'same
agency bridges the Atlantic Ocean, and grid
les the earth with a path Of iron. Again the
scythe of time gathers harvest Of years for
the storehouse of eternity, and the subtle mon
ster, bound up in his iron cage, groans and
writhes, subseryient to the will OF a child.
The forest falls before his hot breath the loom
the press, the rail-car and the vessel. move re-
ponsive to the power of his mighty arm, and
bis vast strength,tutored and governed by skill
and experience, supply mans wants or admin
lister TO his comforts
Again revolution or two of the hands on
the dial of time. and the lightning, drawn
down from the clouds and bound with single
wire, brings man NEARER TO man; the Reaper.
and Separator, assist the farmer III gathering
in his golden treasure, aud the poor seams
tress, as the memory of the long drearv night
when,
With fingers weary and worn
With eyelids heavy and red
A woman sat in unwomanly rags
Plying her needle and thread.
comes back to her like an horrible dream,
pauses for while in her work and looking at
the beautiful toy befor her, blesses the inyen-
tor of the sewing machine.
Which of US all, should we live even to thrice |
the age
"Of the many-wintered rock
That leads the Changing rookeryl home"
can expect TO see such changes as these? Who |
knows? Wisely has it been ordained that the |
eye of man shall not penetrate the mists that |
veil the shadowy future
Here. before the old mans eyes, in the St. /
Croix Valley, the forest has changed into |
fiourshing cities, the hunter and warrior |
have passed away together to the happy hunt |
ing grounds; whiskey and other blessings 90 |
of civilization, have driven the red-man further
and further west, and the indomitable Anglo |
Saxon race, pressing steadily and irTesistibly
onward, has been driving him slowly but sure
ly towards the sea.
Many calm still Sabbath eve the old man
no doubt sits and ponders