Romance on the Prairie by Percy Crothers

Romance on the Prairie by Percy R. Crothers

In the spring of 1880 Hod Phelps came with his family from eastern Minnesota and filed on a homestead about a mile south of Lake Badger.  As money was scarce, he made a dwelling place for his family by making a dugout in a steep bank that faced the east.  He put in the summer getting some braking done, making a stable for his cow, digging a well, putting up some hay, and the hundred and one odd jobs that had to be done in making a new home on the prairie. In the fall his wife’s brother, Willis Atwater, came from the east and filed on a homestead in the neighborhood.  As young Atwater was unmarried, he made his home with his brother-in-law.  Hod prevailed upon him to stay for the winter and look after the family and the cow while, he, Hod, went east and earned some money to tide them over until they could raise a crop.  As this arrangement seems satisfactory all around, Hod left for the big woods just before winter set in. The great October blizzard began that year on the morning of October 15 and lasted until the evening of October 17, and a large amount of snow fell.  This snow soon went off, except some of the larger drifts, and the weather continued favorable.  No more snow fell until a day or so after Christmas when the next blizzard came with a fresh fall of snow.  This was soon followed by other storms until by the middle of January there was at least two feet of snow now on the ground.  Each new storm blocked up the railroads and made the job of digging out more difficult until about the 20^th of January, when all attempts to keep the road open west of New Ulm were abandoned. 

During the summer of 1880 a young woman by the name of May Wheeler had come from Baraboo, Wisconsin and filed a homestead on the NW half of Section 29-112-53.  The government gave the homesteader six months to make a settlement on their claims so Miss Wheeler returned to Wisconsin to earn a little more money before moving on her claim.  In January her six months were up, and she arrives in Nordland (now Arlington) on one of the last trains to get through the blockade.  She made arrangements with the lumber dealer for the lumber for her shack and with the drayman to haul it to her claim.  Then she got a livery to take her out to the Phelps home, as she had known Mrs. Phelps in former years in Wisconsin, and she expected to stay there until her own house was ready to be occupied.  For very good reasons, her lumber was not delivered and her house was not built until the following summer, and her stay with Mrs. Phelps was longer than she had planned. 

As the snow increased in depth, the storm increased in fury and frequency.  Each

new storm left an added burden of now to that which had come before.  The

last half of January was a nightmare, but the month of February was one long

horror.  Storm followed storm with seldom more than a few days of fair weather

between and each storm usually lasted three days.  It seemed as though the

elements had gone mad with fury.  So much snow on the ground with more

coming from the sky and all borne along by a terrific gale of wind made a

combination that neither man nor beast could face.  It was estimated by good

authorities that there were at least twelve feet of snow on an average before

the winter was over.  

Before the snow came, Mr. Atwater and his sister’s family got along fine.  The dugout was warm and easily heated with twisted hay, and the cow had a warm stable with good hay to eat.  But after the snow came the story was different.  Each new storm buried the dugout completely under the snow and made it as dark as Egypt.  This could be endured as long as the kerosene lasted, bur when the trains stopped running and no more kerosene could be had, the only source of light was a saucer of grease with a rag in it.  This just about gave enough light to make the darkness visible.

The supply of flour soon became exhausted.  This was remedied by buying a sack of wheat from one of the neighbors and grinding it in a coffee mill.  The sugar, tea, and coffee soon were gone, and they had to be done without.  They had butchered a hog in the fall and that supplied them with meat.  They had raised a few potatoes on sod.  The worst calamity of all was that early in February the hay was all gone and they had nothing to feed their cow or burn.  A neighbor, Jordan Damm, who came in 1878 and had raised quite a crop of grain in 1880 had a large straw pile west of his house.  He gave permission to Mr. Atwater to use what he wanted of it.  This had to be dug out of the pile, tied up with picket ropes, and hauled by man-power on a home-made sled over a mile.  During the stormy days of February it was impossible for Mr. Atwater to haul home much more than the cow could eat.  Only enough could be spared for the house to do a little cooking.

During the storms they were cooped up in the house in complete darkness.  As they were buried in snow the room did not get so very cold, but still it was damp and chilly.  As they could not have a fire except when cooking meals, they spent most of their time in bed.

When they thought it was time for the storm to be over, they would dig out after this manner: the door would be opened, and Mr. Atwater would begin to dig a hole out through the snow behind the door, shoveling it into the room until he had made a hole big enough for him to crawl through.  Then he would go outside and shovel a stairway from the top of the drift down to the bottom of the door and would then shovel the snow out of the room.  If the storm was over, he would then shovel out the windows and let in a little daylight until the next storm.  He would then feed, water, and milk the cow, and then get another load of straw so as to be ready for the next blizzard. 

Under such circumstances as these none would say that romance did not have a ghost of a chance, but when hearts are young, romance is not so easily discouraged.  During these dark days when buried beneath the snow and the blizzards raging overhead, a little bud had sprung into life and was growing steadily day by day, so that when the spring would drive away the snow and gloom, it would burst into glorious bloom.

When February had dragged its weary length and March came the people were cheered by the thought that spring would soon come.  Although blizzards came less frequently during March, the cold continued, and when April had come there was still not a sign of a thaw.  The people were more bitter and more complaining during the first half of April than they had been during the worst days of February, for it was the time now for spring, and no spring was in sight.

The first thaw came on the 17^th of April and in three days the snow was gone.  Water was everywhere.  Every lake and low place was full and every ravine was a raging torrent.  The people who had vowed great oaths that they would not stay in this country a day longer than they had to, forgot their rash vows and began to make plans for the grand homes they were to build on the prairies of the Dakota.

The romance between Willis Atwater and May Wheeler had now blossomed and they had begun making plans for the home they were to build there.  Each had a homestead.  As the government would not let them keep both after they were married, Mr. Atwater commuted his homestead (proved up on it by paying $ 1.25 per acre) and the house was built on Miss Wheeler's claim.  As soon as it was in readiness, they were married and lived happily ever after.  The Atwaters made for themselves a worthy place in the community.  Mr. Atwater served for a number of years as town clerk and also served for some years as clerk of the Badger Congregational Church.  Mrs. Atwater was a strong worker in the church, a good influence in the community, and a good neighbor.  The little bud of romance that began in the dark under the the snow lived and flourished all their lives.