I had been staying with Aunt Rhoda 1. One day going along the road on an errand Mr. Conwell came along in the wagon and asked me to ride. During our conversation, he asked when we were starting to Oklahoma. Of course I didn't know. I had never heard the subject discussed and cared less about it. Why the secrecy, I never knew. It was just about two weeks prior to the time we were to start.I didn't approve of the idea as I had never thought of ever leaving our Kansas home. Before becoming of school age we attended Sunday School at a place known as the Emmerson School House (not our District). There we made some acquaintances. The fall after Edith 2 was six we just must start to school. We knew the teacher and Mama 3 thought it would be better to start with her. The school was about two miles from home, over the hills through the pastures and over a cow trail. Edith was too little to go alone so I must go with her. The first day Mama put us both on an old gray horse. Edith in front and I had to hold to her--I was so afraid she would fall off and take me with her. Mama led the horse and Edith would want her to run and make the horse trot. I didn't enjoy the ride. Mama then rode the horse home after delivering us at school. We were to come back with the Watkins girls as far as their house, a mile, then Mama met us there to take us the rest of the way. Then in the morning she would come with us as far as the Watkins and we would go on from there with them. We only attended a short period of that term but I think Mama must have taken us back and forth as long as we went. We had never seen our school house until that first day at school.
Later Sunday School was organized there and a minister drove out from Manhattan to hold services. The district was made up of families mostly who owned their homes and were permanent dwellers, so we children grew up together in school, Sunday School, and Church and seemed as one family and it was very hard to think of leaving our friends. On Thursday evening April 10, 1889, Uncle Jake 4 hitched up the team and drove over home to take me so I would be there to start the next morning to Oklahoma and to bid the folks good-bye. McCalls 5 had already driven in with their two heavily loaded wagons and had the horses fed and the cows in the corral for the night. The folks had our wagon packed, had moved out of the house and Mama was scrubbing the kitchen floor. Said she didn't want to leave a dirty kitchen for someone else to move into. She had prepared food for supper before taking the stove down, which was set back in the house as there was no room in the wagon for it. Papa 6 was out doing odd jobs getting the cows, horses, etc. lined out for an early start the next morning. He came in about dusk for supper. We had just started eating (out in the yard) when Papa said, "Oh, I forgot, I told the Schulls you girls could go and stay overnight with them and go to school in the morning and we would stop and pick you up as we passed there in the morning." It was a two mile walk and almost dark but too good a thing to pass up, as this would be a little longer with our friends and being in school a little longer with the others. We found our friends in bed but they got up and put us to bed. The next morning when fixing school lunch, they were not to fix any for Edith and me as the folks expected to be along about 10 a.m. The day went by, noon came and still no wagons. Edith and Emma walked back to the Schull house for dinner and I helped eat the school lunch. The day went on until almost time to dismiss school, when our wagon finally came. Old Bell, the main standby, had balked at the heavy load and nothing could induce her to pull it. (She had a little two weeks old colt). Finally Uncle Orrin 7 took his load up as far as Stumbo's 8 who were waiting to join us. He then took his team back and hitched on to Papa's wagon, tied Old Bell and the other horse behind and came by for us. The teacher dismissed school to say the good-byes and see us off. We stayed that night at the Stumbo home, Friday April 11, 1889, about four miles from home. The next morning Papa led the caravan (driving Old Bell). He knew the road, we were to cross a great prairie where there was neither water, food, or wood for miles. Papa knew a Pennsylvania family by the name of Doverspike, who had a cattle ranch on this prairie with windmills to furnish water and said we must make it there so we could have water and buy feed for the night. They gave us a gracious welcome, a place to camp, all the water we wanted, sold us hay but only enough wood for cooking, as they were short and had to haul it a long distance on a wagon. The next day being Sunday the 13th, we stayed in camp all day. It was a very cold and dismal day, some rain, snow and sleet, so we kept pretty close to our wagons to keep warm. Monday morning April 14th was lovely and we proceeded on our way--six covered wagons, a spring wagon, a bunch of cows, a riding pony, a loose horse, the little colt, four dogs, three boxes of chickens, seven adults, seventeen children 9 composed the caravan. That evening we drove into Council Grove, Kansas. I was very much thrilled to at last visit this noted city. Not because it was a very important town on the Old Santa Fe Trail, or because the old oak tree still stood (and I believe it still stands to the present 1957) under which a treaty was signed by the Indians not to molest travelers on the Santa Fe Trail, but because back at Uncle Jake's Corner at the cross-roads there was a big sign, white with black letters and a hand pointing saying, "Council Grove 22 miles". There we were on Monday evening April 14, twenty two miles from home. The next morning being Mama's birthday (33 years) Edith and I went shopping to buy her a present. We stopped at the first store for fear of getting lost, and bought her a pair of cotton gloves for 15 cents; we thought they would be nice for her to drive in as she drove the spring wagon, with no cover or shade. On the morning of the 15th we presented her with them. She thanked us so nicely but tucked them away. (After being in Oklahoma for some time, as she was going some place and decided to wear her gloves, she discovered they were both for the same hand).
We continued on our way stopping usually by a creek near a town where we could have water for the stock and could drive into town for feed. For this errand our camp outfit was unloaded from the spring wagon and someone would hitch on and bring feed or any food or groceries needed from town. I cannot remember now the dates and the names of the towns we passed through enroute. Sometimes the wagons would stop for a while to let the horses rest and the children play. When we got to Cowley County, Kansas 10 we found nice green grass with flowers mingled through; we stopped to let the cows graze and the horses rest. Grace 11 (who Mama had put in my care when we started on the trip) and I got out of the wagon; she ran around picking flowers; I sat down on the grass in the shade of the wagon; she came with her little hands full of flowers and sat down beside me; the little colt came and lay down beside her; she took it's head in her lap and stroking it said: "I'm going to name her Flower". She went by that name for the twenty years Papa kept her. I believe he afterward sold her to Albert Hays 12.
We got to the Ponca Indian Agency, which was very near the site of Ponca City. The Salt Fork River was too high to ford, so we made camp there to wait for it to go down. I do not remember how long we stayed there but we were still there on April 25th, Papa's birthday and the race had been run April 22nd. I begged Papa to go back home, I was so afraid to cross the river. I believe it was that day, the 25th, they began crossing and we counted 200 wagons that afternoon going back toward Kansas, they didn't like Oklahoma. They told all kinds of stories trying to get us to turn back. One said the soil wouldn't grow white beans. Another said the land was covered with rocks all having 100 points and 99 of them sticking up. One had a sample of the water; I suppose he got it out of a muddy creek as I saw him shake it before showing it. We started, I think it must have been the morning of the 26th. Each family kept their wagons together in line and the first one ready took the lead. I do not know who was in lead that morning but our wagons were, Papa first, then Mama with the spring wagon, then Uncle Orrin. I was riding with Uncle Orrin, the double deck or two-tier chicken box fastened behind the spring wagon for easy riding. There was a deep place in the middle of the river, just a dip down and then up. When Mama struck that, the lower tier of the chickens went under. I told Papa as soon as we got across, but they were all alive. Papa had forgotten to put them inside the wagon.
We arrived in Oklahoma April 27th and made camp on Stillwater Creek 13, while the men looked over parts of the country to see what they could find. While there, we made the acquaintance of the Hays and Allen families 14 who were also camped on the creek. Jim Hays 15 had already taken a claim at Stillwater so Olie and Willie 16 were there with the group. Cody 17 and Olie became good friends. (Olie, I believe, is still in that community, but I don't know her name.) Later, when we and the Hays and Allen families moved onto our homesteads, we were near neighbors and became well acquainted.
We were camped near the creek and someone had cut a big grapevine off at the bottom, making a swing and we children would run and grab that vine and swing way out over the bank. One day a bunch of us went up the creek; we found where a tree had fallen across the creek making a dam and there was quite a deep place above. Henry Stumbo 18 got a short log, rolled up the legs of his overalls, got two sticks for oars, got on the log and went rowing out over the little lake. It looked so easy and like fun. I was telling Maggie McCall 19 about it when we got back to camp, as Maggie hadn't been with us. She said "Come on, I want to ride." So up the creek we went, just she and I; the log and the sticks Henry had used were there; she was very brave and started out; it was all right as long as her foot touched the bottom but when she got in deep water her oars began floating and the log rolled over. She grabbed the log and held on until she got near the bank where I could reach her and help her out. She could easily have drowned as neither of us could swim. Another of our sports was 'popping' leaves. The red bud had the nicest, most tender leaves, but most any leaf would do. One evening a bunch of us went down by the creek popping leaves. The next morning Stewart McCall 20 was swollen up all over, his eyes almost shut. The folks thought he might have been snake bitten. I had some rather black scabby looking spots around my mouth and so did Henry Stumbo. It was all a mystery but upon further investigation it was found we had been popping poison ivy leaves.
One evening the men came riding in and Papa said, "Get packed up, we are going to our new home in the morning about twelve miles from here. I have bought the nicest place in Oklahoma and Mr. Stumbo, the one adjoining on the east, near the Cimarron River." The men whom they were buying from were to stay on the places and await our arrival but the next morning when we arrived they would not let us stop on the place long enough to eat our dinner; and said they had decided not to sell. One could not take any chances in those days, so we drove back to the Wild Horse Creek 21 and camped. Papa began looking for another place. He found one adjoining the one he had bargained for first, on the west; the holder offered to sell for $10.00 fearing he had no right to the place or that something was wrong, Mr. McCall got a place down on the river bottom. After a few days this man came to our camp and gave Papa his Kansas address and said "If you are afraid of me, I'm not afraid of you. I am going home and when you get your filing on the place and see it is all right, just send me the ten dollars then." So that is how we got our homestead. We moved onto it May 11, 1889, just one month from the time we left our Kansas home. Some days later Mr. Enslow, Clara and Nellie 22 came driving up the road in a surrey; Nellie and Clara had filed on the two places Papa and Mr. Stumbo had bargained for. Papa said he had seen that surrey drive up just as he and Mr. Stumbo were leaving that evening and Mr. Enslow had offered a little more, so the men held the place for them. Mr. Enslow was a "Sooner" and couldn't file on one. Mr. Stumbo didn't find a place suitable so he went to Forest City 23 and put in a little store. Forest City was not a town at all but was where the corners of the claims of Frank Orner, Mr. Razy, Mr. Taggart and the elderly Mrs. Terrill came together. I believe a half mile south of the present location of the IXL School House 24, on the half section line. Mrs. Terrill was the mother of Dave, Nate, and Dock Terrill. Herman Abbot, one of our Kansas neighbors, later bought the Razy place. We camped on the bottom field, near the road which followed the river bottom, right out in the blazing sun. Papa was afraid of lightning if we camped under the trees. At first we had just the wagons to live in and sleep in; we cooked on a camp fire and spread our tablecloth on the ground.
While camping in this manner one Sunday we had just finished our noon meal when a man came walking up the road, came over to our camp and sat down, saying something we could not understand and he could not speak or understand English. Finally Papa said "Hannah, this man is hungry." Mama fixed him a plate and motioned for him to come to the table. We had a big stew and a-plenty left over and he ate as though he was very hungry, got up bowed and went on his way toward Stillwater. Some years later, after we had built our house, a fine surrey with a team of pretty ponies drove up and asked if we could give them a place to stay overnight. Papa never said no. There was a Frenchman who owned the horses and buggy, a Russian and an Italian. They could all speak French but only the Frenchman could speak English. The next morning the Italian asked the Frenchman to tell us he was the man who had come to our camp that day and was so hungry and to thank us for feeding him, that he hadn't forgotten it. As they were hitching up that morning, (they were on the way to Stillwater) the horses became frightened and ran away. Enslows had just finished making some new barbed wire fences and they were solid; one of the ponies ran through several fences and had one shoulder sawed up terribly. The Frenchman told Papa if he would keep the pony and doctor it until he was well he would pay him $25.00 (which he did) and asked him if he would hitch one of his horses in with the other pony and take them back to Guthrie. Papa took along a saddle so he could ride home. There were three seats in the surrey, Papa and the Frenchman sat on the front, the Italian in the middle and the Russian in the back seat. The Russian had a bottle and had been tasting it a lot too often; the road was very rutty and there were no bridges. They crossed a little creek with high banks on either side; they drove down in, then right up out. When they got to where they could stop to go back they found the Russian had fallen out backwards taking the seat with him; lying in the creek laughing, making no effort to get up. They put him in the bottom of the buggy and Papa drove in the back way when they reached town, so no one would see them unload him. Papa stayed all night with the Frenchman and his wonderful dog, and came home the next day. He said the Frenchman had a very fine home.
Well, back to the camp. We hauled water from that wonderful spring of soft water at Forest City. I don't remember where we got the barrel. They sat it on the ground and when we took off the cover to get a bucket of water it would just steam. Finally they set off the upper part of Uncle Orrin's 25 wagon, with the bed in it, then unloaded the wagon contents which consisted mostly of farm machinery and garden tools. They had a wagon now for general use. They made a trip to Guthrie, which at that time was our post office. In that load of stuff they brought, I remember only three articles; some barbed wire, a little cook stove and a tent. The wire to make a corral for the cows, we had been herding them. We set up the tent on the most beautiful spot. It was a spot possibly an acre or so, covered with grass more like a lawn, entwined with what we called moss flowers, beautiful little red flowers twined around in the grass. But taking in consideration the leaves, flowers, and seed pods, I would call them creeping hollyhocks. I have never seen them any place, only in Oklahoma. That was our carpet. We set up the stove and even had room to make down a bed so as not to be so crowded in the wagons. Now we were to really live! Enslows came to bake bread in the oven. When the floor wore out we moved the tent to a new spot. When Papa got ready to build the house we moved on higher ground to be near the work. I do not remember whether it was the first or second night after we moved, there came a big rain and all of that level spot was covered with water and our camping ground became a pond. Never again to grow into pretty grass and flowers.
Bermie 26 had saved his pennies and nickels until he had enough to exchange for a big silver dollar, which was the pride of his life and the envy of all who saw it. One day he and Papa were on their way somewhere, when they met a man who had a little fawn he was wanting to sell for $1.00. It so took Bermie's eye he wanted to buy it and would give up his dollar for it. Papa gave him a dollar to pay for it until they got home, but on their return they met a man who offered him $2.00 for the fawn but Bermie wouldn't part with it. He named him Dick. The fawn became very tame but was always afraid of strangers and strange dogs. He and old Sport were very good friends but Sport was very jealous of him. He was quite a nuisance but we all loved him. One day I was baking bread and had it made out in loaves to rise. We were still using the tent for a kitchen. I saw Dick making for the door of the tent and ran after him but he beat me in and as I chased him out he grabbed a loaf of that bread as he went by, running out with dough hanging out both sides of his mouth. He disappeared and for several days we couldn't find him, then Mama found him lying in the corn field; he had been shot through the leg; it was bad and terribly swollen. We got Mr. Smalley 27 to help dress it and put on splints. Papa and Uncle Orrin had gone to Kansas. We left him in the corn field in the shade; he finally got so he could run about again when another time he was missing. This time Mama found where he had been killed and dressed in the brush just over the little hill.
When we first moved unto the homestead, Roy Hays 28, told Papa about his brother Riley 29, and told him if he ever heard screaming and yelling in their direction to not be alarmed as Riley often took such tantrums when things didn't go to suit him, and they couldn't control him. When Smalleys first moved to Cimarron City, Mrs. Smalley and Mama had not yet become acquainted. Papa and Uncle Orrin had gone to Kansas for some of our furniture, etc. Mr. Smalley had to go to Guthrie which required two days to make the trip. Mrs. Smalley and the four children being left alone as night came on, became nervous about spending the night alone and Mrs. Smalley came to see Mama and said "I hear your husband is away" and asked if she might bring some bedding and the children and stay at our house that night. Mama said she would be glad to have them. As yet we only had one bedstead so all the beds but Mama's were spread down on the floor.
After she had gone, Edith and I went to the pasture to bring in the horses for water. When Mrs. Smalley came back with her bedding she asked where we were. Mama said we had gone to the pasture for the horses, She asked which direction and when Mama told her she said; "Oh, as I came down I heard such awful screaming in that direction; it sounded like a human voice. I would be afraid some wild animal had attacked them--It was awful!" Mama, rather hard of hearing, couldn't hear the screams, but started out to see about us. When she got to the well, she found us there. We had cared for the horses and were ducking our heads in the watering tub. The cave was by the well and Mama said "I will just get something for supper while I am here," then told Edith to run to the house to tell them we were all right. We had told Mama what the screaming was. When Edith got there Mrs. Smalley 30 and Emma 31 had gone to town to get someone to go see about us; Mama had just about time to get out there when she thought she heard her scream. So Edith ran on to town and got there just as two men were starting out with their guns. We had quite a time getting the children quieted down.
Mr. Brooks and George 32 had just moved onto their place and were still living in the wagon. They tied the horses to the side of the wagon; one of the mares had a colt. On this same night Mr. Brooks was awakened by the horses jerking the wagon and snorting; he raised the side of the wagon cover to look out when he saw what he thought was a mountain lion at the throat of one of the mares. He had no gun or any weapon but his pocket knife and he knew he would stand a poor chance with that, so he lay there and yelled, "HELP HELP MURDER", thinking the neighbors might hear him and come to his rescue. Enslows heard his cries, got up and dressed to go; there was Bill, Fred, Nellie, and Clara 33, but the girls wouldn't let them go, afraid whatever it was might attack them next, so they marched around their house the rest of the night with their guns. Mr. Brooks, after yelling for some time, happened to think about the colt. The mare had gotten her rope around the colt's neck and reared back; he jumped up and cut the rope but the colt fell dead.
John Clover 34, after building his little house and digging a well, went back to Kansas to work at harvesting. Sometimes we girls would go down near his house and play under the trees. One time Cody began to look for a sunny spot to lie down in when we decided we had better get back to the house. We had no more than got home when Cody began to shake with a chill, she even cried for someone to sit on her to hold her still so she could rest.
When Edith and I drove the cows to the river 35 for water, the water being too high for us to wade we tried to keep the cows from crossing to the other side as the Longhorns were still being pastured on the other side of the river. This day one cow finished drinking, raised her head up and bawled and went right across to the other side, then stopped and bawled some more; we ran around the others and got them started toward home, then Edith hid behind some bushes and every time the cow bawled she would answer, trying to sound as much like a cow as she could. She bawled several times and that cow turned around and came back; we got around her and got her home. We surely thought she was a goner, but Papa said if she had gotten with the Longhorns the cowboys would have found her for us and brought her home. The Longhorns were quite a problem. That first year, we got moved onto the claim so late we didn't get much feed raised for the stock for the winter. We made a barbed wire fence around it but two or three of those steers found it and really made a mess of what little we had. They didn't know what a fence was and just waded right through. Sometimes they would come over to our side of the river and the whole bottom field would be full. Papa and Orrin usually got on horses and drove them back. Sometimes if they were away Mama and us girls would chase them back. It was dangerous to go around them unless you were on a horse. Papa finally spoke to one of the cowboys about them; they were very nice about it and said they would look out for them; they had no idea they were crossing the river and hadn't really been watching that part of the line. Myrtle Stumbo 36, one of our group, married one of the cowboys.
About two years later the grazing lease expired and the cattle were to be taken away. One morning Papa was outside when he came to the door and called "Come here and see a sight you will probably never have the opportunity to see again." There the whole bottom field was covered with Longhorns as far as one could see, both up and down the road, their great horns cracking together and waving in the air as they moved along not unlike the waves of the ocean. I do not remember, if I ever knew, where they were taking them. I was glad to see them go and didn't care if I never saw them again, but what would I give now to see another sight just like that. Papa stood and watched them as long as he could see them with rather a sad expression on his face as though he were losing some friends.
In those early days we had to get acquainted with the different kinds of plants and fruits. Papa knew what the black haws were and we children tasted first of the passion apples to see if they would make us sick and found we could eat freely of them; the flavor somewhat like pineapple. I have learned later the roots are used in making nerve medicine. We enjoyed the black walnuts, hickory nuts and pecans. The only fruit we had for several years was wild grapes, plums and mountain cherries. The mountain cherries made wonderful pies and marmalades. Then we raised pumpkins, pie-melons and tomatoes from which we made sauce, butter and preserves. Meat and chickens were scarce articles for a number of years. There was a lot of wild game and fish but our family was not the type to hunt and fish.
Sidney Foster came from Stillwater and organized our first Sunday School at Forest City. It was held under the trees with logs and planks for seats. We thought nothing of walking that two miles to Sunday School even in the summer. For school that first winter, the neighbors went together and built a little log school house on the southeast corner of the Kimball place 37. It was called the Wild Horse School House 38 and was the first rural school house to be built in Oklahoma. The building was used as a community center for Sunday School, church services, spelling bees, ciphering matches, literary, and socials. The second year the school districts were established and we were thrown in the Johnson School District, although the building was on the southwest corner of Mrs. Hays place. Edith was teaching a summer term of school there in the year 1893 when a cyclone struck 39. It was recess but Edith saw the storm coming and called the children in and put them all in the corner of the building the storm was coming from; they felt it rise twice and the floor was torn up but the building stood. Johnsons, just across the road, had a little girl Lillie 40 in school; they didn't get her but the rest of the family got to the cellar; their house was blown away.
Well here's your story and since I am not a scholar, a writer or a typist, I have made a great mess of it, but hope I may give you some idea of the things that happened in the earlier days.
Effie C. Thatcher Chama, New Mexico