River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1883-08-23
THROUGH MICHIGAN WILDS.
Lights in the Wilderness-A BACK
woodman's Home-A Cyclone or
Fire

woodlands Home-A Cyclone OF
Fire.
The following extracts are from a let
ter ola voyager down the river Au Sable,
to the New York Evening Post;
An area of ten counties in the north
eastern corner ofthe southern peninsula
Of Michigan may-though on 8 much
more ample scale-be> likeued to the
Adirondack region of New York state.
The tract includes a region of not less
than 5000 square miles, or nearly twice
the area ofConnecticut. Vast land tracts
covered by serawny oaks and under
brush are succeeded by hills crested
with pine. Then came tangled forests
ofmixed growths or dense cedar swamps,
almost impossible even to the foot of
the hardened backwoodsman. One may
travel for dozens of miles without seeing
a house or other sign of human habita-
ton. and whole counties in some
instances contain only a few hun
bred settlers altogether and not single
village worth the name.
During a four days water trip for
distance of l40 miles, the traces of man
were scant and at far intervals. Three
or four farm-houses, tented party from
Detroit with whom we passed hosplt-
able hour, and a small lumber camp
were the only visible human signs.
| Every half mile or so brings to the sight
| of the floating voyager on the An Sable
an open space in the forest many acres
| IN extent There are thick, blackened
tree-trunks on the ground, protruding
| in all directions from their shroud of
green underbrush A more impressive
| spectacle are the dead pine trees still
standing in these open areas, black
around the roots, but reaching, straight
as dart, for hundred feet in air,
| These are the gaunt skeletons of what
we're once splendid living pines, now
| killed by the forest fires which periodi-
cally sweep through the Michigan wood
| lands during drought. Not far below
| the mouth of the Au Sable, and on the
other side of Saginaw bay, is the region
| where the deadly fires two
| wears ago devastated the
| wood lands so terribly, causing the loss
| of hundreds of lives and million OF dol
| lars worth of property. A well-informed
| resident of Michigan, who lives but a
| few miles away from the scene of that
horror. has described it to me, not as a
| burning forest in the ordinar sense,
but cyclone of flame, marked by char
acters of fire by many of the phenome-
| ma of wind tornadOes. In some way the
forces generated a powerful volume
| of air, filled with gases in combustion,
and penetrated with almost supernatur-
| al heat. 1t was sort OF earthly coun-
! terpart of those tOrnadoes OF merry gas
| which men of science tell us sweep over
| the incandescent envelope OF the sun
| Wherever it touched the ground this
n i M
| fences, houses, CATTLE and human beings
we're not merely burned but almost va
porized Often the whirlwind lett be-
hind marked track of ruin, with clear
| ly delineated sides. One man would be
| taken another a few feet away LETT.
Half of a line of fence W uld
be destroyed utterly, while
the remaining half would not be
even scorched. The whirlwind of heat,
like a cyclone of wind, sometimes
bounded from the earth only to descend
again and lick up the house and forest.
It leaped open fields and rivers in an
instant, converting the surface waters
into steam, and finally stopped its ca
reer of destruction, not because OF lack
of fuel, but because its strange tieEY en-
ergy was in some occult way exhausted.
As proving its peculiar cyclonic quality
there is a well-authenticated story of a
farmer who had left his pantaloons IN
the middle of a ten-acre lot. In the
pockets were FIVE trade dollars, and
when he returned after the swift pms
sage of the flaming wbirlwind he found
only lump Of melted silver where be
had left the coins. Looking upon the
enormous masses of pine trees and veg
citation which line the Au Sable, con
ceiving their inflammable condition
during drought, and then glancing anew
at the open burned spaces, with thell
huge charred tree trunks, one coulc
easily imagine that the stories about the
Michigan forest fires were neither ian
ciful nor exaggerated,
To the Eastern eye how rough in it:
outfit and how pathetic in its lack o
comforts is the home of one of these pi
oneers. The one | have in mind stands
close to the brink of the river, so near
the waters that the rise of last sprin
| swept UP to the door ills. 1t is made
of logs squared and fitted at the ends
with the long interstices between the
tinbers closed by wooden wedges and
mud work Two or three rugged ont
houses similarly constructed give shelter
to the farm cattle The half-cleared
tract of 100 acres, taken by the settler
under the Homestead Act, is thickly
Scared with blackened stumps, between
| which rise struggling patches of grass OIL
grain. Nearer the dwelling is a scrubbv
garden covered with weak growth oil
| carrots, and the whole cleared tract Is
circled by the ghost-ike array of those
| dead pines which all over Michigan re-
cord the sweep of the forest fires. The
dismal environment of the settlers
| home has its counterpart in the rough
| walls, the uncarpted floor, the sQualid
| children chasing each other from corner
| to corner, the flock of frowsy chickens
| that enter and go out at will, and, most
l pathetic of all, the house wife, worn
| with toll and child bearing, who with
| an infant at breast, pulls YEARLY through
her dreary round of drudgery In a
closet fitted with dirty Der tbs sleep the
children. Go up now to the upper story
next the roof where the grown people
and visitors sleep. The garnet, for it is
nothing else, runs the whole length and
| breadth of the structure. In each corn
er is a rude bed fit d with sheets and
| coverlids on which seem to have gathered
| the dirt of ages On one of these in the
open room slept my comrade and my
| self in another was the mistress Of the
manse, whose husband was away in one
of the lumber towns; and in third mar
row couch slumbered two hired men
With one exception the nearest
| noighbor of this backwoods
family was some ten miles
away; all supplies had to come from
the lake town of Au Sable, fifty or sixty
miles distant, over sandy roads; and the
only visitors were the rude lumbermen
or an occasional sportsman from Saginaw
or Detroit Yet, amid all these shadows
of poverty, hardship, and squalor, there
were some riffs of light. Faint glimpses
of culture or comfort were to be seen III
| the coarse prints on the walls, the sew
ing machine, and some stray efforts al
household decoration. The children
though untidy, were red-cheeked, and
precocious in speech and observation
far beyond their years; and the temper
of the inmates Of the rude dwelling re
hected the most kindly and generou
hospitality. When | found flat thi
baciwoods home had been wrested
only two years before, from an un
broken forest, realized the real dignity
aud import OF those humble fron'ierbe.
ginninQs from which the grl atness of (
nation has sprung.