we could get nothing for them. There was no money. The few dollars he had brought with him from the East he had placed in the hands of a friend, who afterwards failed, producing a crisis; and two years later, with the remnant of the wreck, he returned to Baltimore, and to the old homestead, Pimlico, where he remained until he came to St. Paul in 1849.

By the treaty proclaimed June 15th, 1838, the Sioux Indians, comprising the bands of Wabasha, Red Wing, Kaposia, Black Dog, Lake Calhoun, Shakopee, and Good Road, ceded to the United States government all their lands east of the Mississippi river, thus opening up this country to settlement. No longer was any license required to trade with the Indians. The country was free to all. Quite a number of persons became engaged along the St. Croix river in lumbering, and others in trading with Indians for furs.

In the spring of 1843 a friend of ours, Mr. William Hartshorn, whose business was buying furs, made a trip up the Mississippi river as far as Fort Snelling. Previous to this, a mission had been established by the Reverend Father Galtier, in 1841, some six miles below Fort Snelling, and dedicated to St. Paul. Around this mission a few families of refugees from Fort Garry and employees of the Fur Company had settled, among whom were Benjamin and Pierre Gervais, Joseph Rondo, Pierre Bottineau, Abraham Perry, Vital Guerin,* Scott Campbell, Francois Morin, Menock Dyerly, James R. Clewett, Sergeant Richard W. Mortimer, and Edward Phalen. The only accessible landing for boats was near this mission chapel of St. Paul, in consequence of the high bluffs between that point and the fort, and hence the vicinity of the mission became the site of our beautiful city, and its name was given for the patron saint of the chapel.

When my friend reached this point, a gentleman boarded the boat and joined the party for the fort. This was Mr. Henry Jackson, who with his wife had located here the fall previous. He had traded with the Indians, and had accumulated quite a quantity of furs. These Mr. Hartshorn bought, and at the same time formed a copartnership with Mr. Jackson. Returning to St. Louis, and buying an outfit for the firm, he

Mr. Guerin's first name has been often misspelled Vetal, in accordance with its pronunciation.

called upon me, giving me a history of his venture and intentions for his future trade in this new and but little known Indian country. He said there were half-breeds from the British American districts who visited St. Paul for the purpose of trade and all spoke French, and as I spoke that language he would like my services. Here was my opportunity. I had a chance at last presented me to see a live Indian; and, being tired of waiting for a place in the Missouri country, I engaged myself to this firm for an indefinite period at eight dollars per month and expenses. I was glad to get anything. A man's services had scarcely any value at all, and what he produced about the same. Oats sold for six cents per bushel; dressed hogs at one and a half cents per pound; and porter-house steak at five cents per pound, with all the liver you desired thrown in. St. Louis county and city orders were selling at forty cents on the dollar. Such was the state of things at that time.

Having made the needed purchases, and consummated our engagement, I left St. Louis on the steamer Iowa with an oufit, September 1st, 1843. At Galena, one of the most important points between St. Louis and Fort Snelling, in consequence of its great lead mines, which were at that period attracting as many prospectors as California at a later day, we reshipped all our outfit on board the Steamer Otter. Capt. Scribe Harris was in command, and Capt. Thomas Owens was clerk and supercargo. We reached our destination here September 15th, 1843, just fourteen days after our departure from St. Louis. This was considered quite a quick trip. Just think of the difference in time now. The Otter was a small sidewheel steamer, propelled by a single engine. She had a very loud voice, and you could hear her escape for miles.

POPULATION AND TRADE IN 1843.

Upon my arrival, I found my employer's partner, Mr. Henry Jackson, and his estimable wife, with whom I was soon made to feel at home, and for many years I was pleased to look upon her as a mother and friend. Society was crude, but pure and devoid of affectation. The white population, taken all together at that date, in the vast territory that now includes the great state of Minnesota, the two Dakotas, parts of Wisconsin and Iowa, and all the country across the

Missouri river to the Pacific coast, did not exceed three hundred. To-day we count them by the millions. The Indian and the buffalo have disappeared and given place to habits of civilization, with its railroads, electric cars, rules of etiquette, and conventional customs. We found this country new. We were beyond the bounds of civilization, beyond the frontier. The former we enjoy to-day with all its advantages; but the latter, the frontier, where is it? Can any man tell? It has disappeared forever.

Our trade was with the natives, and with them I became exceedingly interested. I acquired in a very short time sufficient knowledge of their language to get along nicely with them in their trade, and in a couple of years became quite proficient. In fact, I was obliged immediately to study up the language, because I needed to use it as soon as the fur season commenced, which was in November. All furs are considered in their prime at that season; mink, otter and coon, in particular. I was usually sent out to their hunting grounds with various articles for trading, and I would pick up a good many muskrat skins that others knew little about. The country abounded in game, and I soon became an expert in the chase.

Competition was great in those days. One had to keep on the alert, for the American Fur Company regarded the fur trade as exclusively their own, and when Louis Robert, James W. Simpson, and Hartshorn & Jackson, came upon the scene, they were looked upon as intruders. I remember on one occasion, it was a Christmas eve, we were all enjoying ourselves at citizen Robert's; I believe it was on the occasion of the celebration of the marriage of his niece to Mr. Simpson. About ten o'clock I withdrew, having my train already loaded, and started out with Scott Campbell as my interpreter, and Ackawasta as my guide. We reached Little Canada about midnight, and camped by the side of that beautiful lake, with nothing but a Mackinaw blanket for my covering. Old Scott Campbell was very fond of his nips, and he and the old Indian were having a jolly good time, while I was attending to the domestic affairs necessary for our comfort. Having felled a good-sized oak tree, preparatory to making our camp fire, old man Campbell rose up in order to help me, when he stumbled

over the log and fell head foremost into three feet of snow, and before I could dig him out I thought he would smother.

I had not been long in the country before it became necessary that I should have an Indian name. One day, "Techa," Old Bets' brother, came into the store, and being quite a wag, from some act of mine, he baptized me "Wamduska,” the serpent, and by that name I have been known from St. Paul to the British line and wherever there was a Dakota Indian. I soon learned to speak their language fluently, and have always retained their confidence and good will.

The Indians then received their annuities with commendable regularity, and for many days after the yearly payment the old traders and their visitors would enjoy to their hearts' content a lively game of poker, and a stranger who would happen to come around was sure to be amused. Such old fellows as Donald McDonald, William A. Aitkin, and some others, the names of whom I have now forgotten, could entertain the most adept, and give them a percentage besides. On one occasion, I remember one of my employers about the Christmas holidays thought he would make a trip up among these traders, because, having sold more goods for cash than was desirable, and having no use for the money until spring, he wished to invest it in buying some of their furs for cash. Taking a friend along, he remained away about ten days, returning without money or furs. He said that upon their arrival, they found it impossible to invest their cash in furs. The traders would not sell. Their returning home without furs and without money was accounted for by the statement that on their way down, just a little above Anoka, while they were on the river, the ice gave way and they were precipitated into the water and lost the saddle-bags containing their money and came near losing their lives besides. They resolved to go back at once, after procuring rakes and other tools, in hopes that they might be able to recover the saddle-bags and the money. Next morning bright and early they started back, taking me along. We reached "Anoka Sippi" (Rum river) about camping time, but, a thaw having come on, in the morning we could not cross the river. The snow had nearly all gone, hence we were obliged to return without further search for that money bag. "Twas just as well, for although I was

not a very bright boy, and had many things yet to learn, 'twas just as I had surmised. The company's money got into a hole before it reached that in the Mississippi river. Oh, these old traders were a jolly set, and whenever you came in contact with them they always left you something to remember them by.

The old firm dissolved shortly after that, and divided their stock, Mr. Hartshorn removing his post to a place situated where the Central Police station is to-day, on Third street at the head of Hill street. This house was built of hewn logs by Sergeant Mortimer, and contained three rooms, a bedroom at one end, a store room at the other, and a living room, which served both as kitchen and parlor, in the center, with a huge fireplace in one corner, built of stone and topped off with a flour barrel.

MARRIAGE, AND OUR PIONEER STORE AND HOME.

Before this dissolution took place, in the year 1845 I married my wife, the sister of the late Bartlett Presley. She came up from St. Louis for that purpose, as this was to be our future home, and I had not the means to make the trip to St. Louis to bring her up. You see it was economy to have her come and have the hymeneal knot tied here, and also showed a good example to our friends hereabout. Mr. Hartshorn's family being still in St. Louis, it became very convenient for him to have us take charge of his domestic as well as his commercial affairs, and hence the situation accommodated us all along the line. We would have been put to considerable inconvenience had Mr. Hartshorn not been able to avail himself of this location.

Sergeant Mortimer having died, Mrs. Mortimer was left a widow with four or five children. About this time William Evans, an old soldier and acquaintance of the Mortimers, whose time had expired, having received an honorable discharge, took a claim on what is now called Dayton's Bluff. They became engaged. Henry Jackson being at the time a justice of peace, they presented themselves before him to have the nuptial service performed. From some cause or other, he declined to do it, saying he did not feel that he had authority to perform the ceremony, but he would draw up a contract