Pioneer Story Page 4

It took five weeks for the Franklin family to reach their land. The first few days were miserable. A constant, cold rain dampened their spirits and impeded their progress. Traveling meant trudging along paths of slick, sticky mud. The steady rain turned the many brooks and rivers they crossed into dangerous white-water rapids.The family and their meager possessions were soaking wet. Finally, on the fifth day, the sun pierced through the clouds. As their trail dried, traveling became easier and their progress quickened.

They never lit an open fire, prepared a hot meal, or traveled a path wider than a game trail during their journey. Each day they rose before dawn and hiked until sunset. Each night, they made their bed in a rocky, secluded cave, beneath a fallen tree or in some other hidden spot. Their only sustenance was the pemmican Mary prepared for the trip. Pemmican was an Indian food made of dried venison, pounded fine and mixed with melted fat. It was lightweight, nutritious and tasty.

Hunter's Shelter

Mary was always enthusiastic, but Robert had rarely seen her this animated. The family had just punched through a thicket of head-high grasses and was standing in a clearing. Scattered around the clearing were massive logs, cut the previous year. "Ma, welcome to your new home!" Robert said with a broad grin. Mary was shocked. As reality slowly set in, she began to whirl this way and that, examining every detail of their new land. At this moment, Mary looked like a school girl again.

At thirty-two, she often looked much older, weathered and worn by the constant struggle of running a frontier home. Mary's typical day started well before dawn. She'd begin her long list of daily chores by stoking the fire. There was always cooking and baking to do, livestock to tend, water to fetch, dishes to wash, children to nurse, crops to plant, butter to churn, meat to butcher, clothes to make and mend.