Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1893-1895, 1894-06-27
A PIONEER SKETCH.
A TOUCHING TALE OF A BURIAL IN
THE WILDERNESS.

For Thirty-8ve Years-A Mothers Awful
Grief Almost Alone In the Forest.
In the year 1929 a steady stream of
immigration was flowing into the terri
tory of Michigan. The ever restless peo-
pie of the east had heard wonderful sto-
rics of the abundance of game AMI great
fertility Of soil to be found in the rev
territory, AID tho sturdy, adventure
some farmers of rocky New England
were pushing their way westward, with
the hope of finding the Ell Dorado of
their dreams.
Detroit, at this time, was a sight to
behold. It's streets wero thronged with
the covered wagons of the immigrants
Hunters and Indians, half breeds and
soldiers were mingled i'll chaotic mass
Among the great throng of home seek
ers that left Detroit on the I'd day Of
May, 1899, were James Harris, his wife
and year old baby. Young Harris had
put all of his earthly possessions into
covered wagon, and bidding goodby to
friends and relatives had joined that
endless stream of home seekers that were
pushing their way into the wilderness
Of Michigan, hoping by their energy
and perseverance to build up home for
themselves and an inheritance for their
children.
The road westward from Detroit fol-
lowed an old Indian trail, and by con-
slant travel the mud had become so
deep that it was almost impossible
Many of the pioneers left the old road
and struck off into the wilderness, max
ing roads for themselves.
Among this number was James Har-
ris, and all went well for few days
After camping one night the wind sud-
denly shifted to the northwest, and cold
rain set in. This was the eighth day
after leaving Detroit. The company that
they had begun their journey with had
gradually dropped off, and for two days
they had travelled alone, alone in the
great wilderness, unprotected save what
protection the canvas covered wagons
gave them. Was it any wonder that as
they listened to the howl of the wolf
and the hoot of the owl they became a
little homesick? Harris had made
great fire of dry brush, and while it was
burning brightly the family had gone
to sleep. From this sleep the young
mother was aroused by q sharp, hoarse
cough from her baby. She Immediately
awoke her husband, fresh fuel was
thrown on the fire, and as it blazed up
the young mother peered anxiously into
the face of baby Ruth. One glance at
the little drawn face resting on her arm,
and the mother knew that the baby had |
that dread disease, the Group Every |
thing was done for the little sufferer
that the distracted parents could do.
They were young and inexperienced,
and all night long they fought for the
life of their little one, but all in vain.
Just as the first glimmer of light ap-
peared in the east the spirit of baby |
Ruth took its flight. The young mother,
wild with grief, pressed the form OF her
darling to her breast, moaning and say
ing over and over again, BABY is |
deadp She refused to let her husband |
take the little one from her. She would |
never give it up; no, neverl All that day |
they remained in camp. Toward evening |
the wife became calmer, and standing |
near the wagon with the babe in her
arms she saw her husband dig the little |
grave, and when it was finished a rude |
box was made, and she tenderly laid her
baby to rest, with her own hands plac-
ing it in the grave, and as the dirt rat
tied down ON the lid she fell senseless
into her husbands arms.
After filling the grave the young IA
ther took two little sprouts of Lombardy
poplar that he had in the wagon, set
ting one at each end of the grave, and
cutting the words 'Baby Ruth" on a
piece of board he placed it at the head
of the little mound, and then they re-
sumed their journey. Years passed, and
a road was laid near the spot. The pop
lars grew and became living monu-
ment. The piece of board that had told
the little ones name was annually re-
placed by some kind hand.
Time passed quickly. and May 10
had come and gone 30 times since baby
Ruth was laid to rest in the wilder
ness; the poplars had grown to be
trees and stood in acleared field near
the roadside; the surrounding forest had
long since disappeared. A board was
nailed to the trees with the words "Ba-
by Ruth" painted on it. A carriage was
passing by when the driver, an elderly
man, glanced toward the trees and saw
the inscription. He looked at the trees
and at the sign, hitched his horse, made
inquiry of a farmer near by as to the
meaning of the sign and was told that
when he came to the country he found
the little grave marked with rude
board, and that he had spared the trees
and nailed up new board. His inform
ant wondered at the emotion OF the
stranger, who staid with him overnight,
but his wonder ceased when he was told
the story of baby Ruth as have written
it. The wife and mother had died some
two years before. Other children had
come to bless her, but she never forgot
her firstborn and the little grave in the
wilderness. A beautiful monument now
marks the spot where sleeps baby Ruth
Van Buren, County Republican