The Story of Young Abraham Lincoln Part 8

"'Well, you needn't wait,' she said in an irritated way; 'there's trouble here, and lots of it, too, but I kin manage my own affairs without the help of outsiders. This is jest a family row, but I'll teach these brats their places if I hev to lick the hide off every one of them. I don't do much talking, but I run this house, an' I don't want no one sneakin' round tryin' to find out how I do it either.'

"That's the case here with us. We must let the other nations know that we propose to settle our family row in our own way, an' teach these brats (the seceding States) their places, and, like the old woman, we don't want any 'sneakin' round' by other countries, that would like to find out how we are going to do it either."

"WINNING A DOG'S GRAt.i.tUDE"

Abe strode along in the mud, driving the four oxen much of the time, for the houses he could visit with his peddler's pack were few and far between. A dog belonging to one of the family--an insignificant little cur--fell behind. After the oxen had floundered through the mud, snow and ice of a prairie stream, they discovered that the animal was missing. The other men of the party thought they could now get rid of the little nuisance, and even the women were anxious, as the hour was late, to go on and find a place to camp for the night. To turn back with the clumsy ox-team and lumbering emigrant wagon was out of the question.

Abraham gave the whip to one of the other men and turned back to see if he could discern the dog anywhere. He discovered it running up and down on the other bank of the river, in great distress, for the swift current was filled with floating ice and the poor little creature was afraid to make the attempt to swim across. After whistling in vain to encourage the dog to try if it would, the tender-hearted youth went to its rescue.

Referring to the incident himself afterward, he said:

"I could not endure the idea of abandoning even a dog. Pulling off shoes and socks, I waded across the stream and triumphantly returned with the shivering animal under my arm. His frantic leaps of joy and other evidences of a dog's grat.i.tude amply repaid me for all the exposure I had undergone."

SPLITTING THE HISTORIC RAILS

After two weary weeks of floundering through muddy prairies and jolting over rough forest roads, now and then fording swollen and dangerous streams, the Lincolns were met near Decatur, Illinois, by Cousin John Hanks, and given a hearty welcome. John had chosen a spot not far from his own home, and had the logs all ready to build a cabin for the newcomers. Besides young Abe, with the strength of three, there were five men in the party, so they were able to erect their first home in Illinois without asking the help of the neighbors, as was customary for a "raising" of that kind.

Nicolay and Hay, President Lincoln's private secretaries, in their great life of their chief, gave the following account of the splitting of the rails which afterward became the talk of the civilized world:

"Without the a.s.sistance of John Hanks he plowed fifteen acres, and split, from the tall walnut trees of the primeval forest, enough rails to surround them with a fence. Little did either dream, while engaged in this work, that the day would come when the appearance of John Hanks in a public meeting with two of these rails on his shoulder, would electrify a State convention, and kindle throughout the country a contagious and pa.s.sionate enthusiasm whose results would reach to endless generations."

CHAPTER IX

STARTING OUT FOR HIMSELF

HIS FATHER AND HIS "FREEDOM SUIT"

According to his own account, Abe had made about thirty dollars as a peddler, besides bearing the brunt of the labor of the journey, though there were four grown men in the combined family. As he had pa.s.sed his twenty-first birthday on the road, he really had the right to claim these profits as his own. His father, who had, for ten years, exacted Abraham's meager, hard-earned wages, should at least have given the boy a part of that thirty dollars for a "freedom suit" of clothes, as was the custom then.

But neither Thomas Lincoln nor his son seems to have thought of such a thing. Instead of entertaining resentment, Abraham stayed by, doing all he could to make his father and stepmother comfortable before he left them altogether. Mrs. Lincoln had two daughters and sons-in-law, besides John Johnston, so Abe might easily have excused himself from looking after the welfare of his parents. Though his father had seemed to favor his stepchildren in preference to his own son, Mrs. Lincoln had been "like an own mother to him," and he never ceased to show his grat.i.tude by being "like an own son to her."

The first work Abe did in that neighborhood was to split a thousand rails for a pair of trousers, at the rate of four hundred rails per yard of "brown jeans dyed with walnut bark." The young man's breeches cost him about four hundred rails more than they would if he had been a man of ordinary height.

But Abraham hovered about, helping clear a little farm, and making the cabin comfortable while he was earning his own "freedom suit." He saw the spring planting done and that a garden was made for his stepmother before he went out of ready reach of the old people.

One special reason Thomas Lincoln had for leaving Indiana was to get away from "the milksick." But the fall of 1830 was a very bad season in Illinois for chills and fever. The father and, in fact, nearly the whole family left at home suffered so much from malaria that they were thoroughly discouraged. The interior of their little cabin was a sorry sight--Thomas and his wife were both afflicted at once, and one married daughter was almost as ill. They were all so sick that Thomas Lincoln registered a shaky but vehement resolve that as soon as they could travel they would "git out o' thar!" He had been so determined to move to Illinois that no persuasion could induce him to give up the project, therefore his disappointment was the more keen and bitter.

The first winter the Lincolns spent in Illinois was memorable for its severity. It is still spoken of in that region as "the winter of the big snow." Cattle and sheep froze to death or died of exposure and starvation.

BUILDING THE FLATBOAT

Early in the spring after "the big snow," John Hanks, Lincoln and John Johnston met Denton Offutt, a man who was to wield an influence on the life of young Lincoln. Offutt engaged the three to take a load of produce and other merchandise to New Orleans to sell. John Hanks, the most reliable member of the Hanks family, gave the following account of the way he managed to bring Abe and his stepbrother into the transaction: "He wanted me to go badly but I waited before answering. I hunted up Abe, and I introduced him and John Johnston, his stepbrother, to Offutt. After some talk we at last made an engagement with Offutt at fifty cents a day and sixty dollars to make the trip to New Orleans. Abe and I came down the Sangamon River in a canoe in March, 1831, and landed at what is now called Jamestown, five miles east of Springfield."

Denton Offutt spent so much time drinking in a tavern at the village of Springfield that the flatboat was not ready when the trio arrived to take it and its cargo down the river. Their employer met them on their arrival with profuse apologies, and the three men were engaged to build the boat and load it up for the journey.

During the four weeks required to build the raft, the men of that neighborhood became acquainted with young Lincoln. A man named John Roll has given this description of Abe's appearance at that time:

"He was a tall, gaunt young man, dressed in a suit of blue homespun, consisting of a roundabout jacket, waistcoat, and breeches which came to within about three inches of his feet. The latter were encased in rawhide boots, into the tops of which, most of the time, his pantaloons were stuffed. He wore a soft felt hat which had once been black, but now, as its owner dryly remarked, 'was sunburned until it was a combine of colors.'"

There was a sawmill in Sangamontown, and it was the custom for the "men folks" of the neighborhood to a.s.semble near it at noon and in the evening, and sit on a peeled log which had been rolled out for the purpose. Young Lincoln soon joined this group and at once became a great favorite because of his stories and jokes. His stories were so funny that "whenever he'd end 'em up in his unexpected way the boys on the log would whoop and roll off." In this way the log was polished smooth as gla.s.s, and came to be known in the neighborhood as "Abe's log."

A traveling juggler came one day while the boat was building and gave an exhibition in the house of one of the neighbors. This magician asked for Abe's hat to cook eggs in. Lincoln hesitated, but gave this explanation for his delay: "It was out of respect for the eggs--not care for my hat!"

ABE LINCOLN SAVES THREE LIVES

While they were at work on the flatboat the humorous young stranger from Indiana became the hero of a thrilling adventure, described as follows by John Roll, who was an eye witness to the whole scene:

"It was the spring following 'the winter of the deep snow.' Walter Carman, John Seamon, myself, and at times others of the Carman boys, had helped Abe in building the boat, and when we had finished we went to work to make a dug-out, or canoe, to be used as a small boat with the flat. We found a suitable log about an eighth of a mile up the river, and with our axes went to work under Lincoln's direction. The river was very high, fairly 'booming.' After the dug-out was ready to launch we took it to the edge of the water, and made ready to 'let her go,' when Walter Carman and John Seamon jumped in as the boat struck the water, each one anxious to be the first to get a ride. As they shot out from the sh.o.r.e they found they were unable to make any headway against the strong current. Carman had the paddle, and Seamon was in the stern of the boat. Lincoln shouted to them to head up-stream and 'work back to sh.o.r.e,' but they found themselves powerless against the stream. At last they began to pull for the wreck of an old flatboat, the first ever built on the Sangamon, which had sunk and gone to pieces, leaving one of the stanchions sticking above the water. Just as they reached it Seamon made a grab, and caught hold of the stanchion, when the canoe capsized, leaving Seamon clinging to the old timber and throwing Carman into the stream. It carried him down with the speed of a mill-race. Lincoln raised his voice above the roar of the flood, and yelled to Carman to swim for an elm tree which stood almost in the channel, which the action of the water had changed.

"Carman, being a good swimmer, succeeded in catching a branch, and pulled himself up out of the water, which was very cold, and had almost chilled him to death; and there he sat, shivering and chattering in the tree.

"Lincoln, seeing Carman safe, called out to Seamon to let go the stanchion and swim for the tree. With some hesitation he obeyed, and struck out, while Lincoln cheered and directed him from the bank. As Seamon neared the tree he made one grab for a branch, and, missing it, went under the water. Another desperate lunge was successful, and he climbed up beside Carman.

"Things were pretty exciting now, for there were two men in the tree, and the boat gone. It was a cold, raw April day, and there was great danger of the men becoming benumbed and falling back into the water.

Lincoln called out to them to keep their spirits up and he would save them.

"The village had been alarmed by this time, and many people had come down to the bank. Lincoln procured a rope and tied it to a log. He called all hands to come and help roll the log into the water, and, after this had been done, he, with the a.s.sistance of several others, towed it some distance up the stream. A daring young fellow by the name of 'Jim' Dorell then took his seat on the end of the log, and it was pushed out into the current, with the expectation that it would be carried down stream against the tree where Seamon and Carman were.

"The log was well directed, and went straight to the tree; but Jim, in his impatience to help his friends, fell a victim to his good intentions. Making a frantic grab at a branch, he raised himself off the log, which was swept from under him by the raging waters and he soon joined the other victims upon their forlorn perch.

"The excitement on the sh.o.r.e increased, and almost the whole population of the village gathered on the river bank. Lincoln had the log pulled up the stream, and, securing another piece of rope, called to the men in the tree to catch it if they could when he should reach the tree. He then straddled the log himself, and gave the word to push out into the stream. When he dashed into the tree he threw the rope over the stump of a broken limb, and let it play until he broke the speed of the log, and gradually drew it back to the tree, holding it there until the three now nearly frozen men had climbed down and seated themselves astride. He then gave orders to the people on sh.o.r.e to hold fast to the end of the rope which was tied to the log, and leaving his rope in the tree he turned the log adrift. The force of the current, acting against the taut rope, swung the log around against the bank and all 'on board' were saved.

"The excited people who had watched the dangerous expedition with alternate hope and fear, now broke into cheers for Abe Lincoln, and praises for his brave act. This adventure made quite a hero of him along the Sangamon, and the people never tired of telling of the exploit."

"DOWN THE RIVER"

The launching of that flatboat was made a feast-day in the neighborhood.

Denton Offutt, its proprietor, was invited to break away from the "Buckhorn" tavern at Springfield to witness the ceremonies, which, of course, took a political turn. There was much speech-making, but Andrew Jackson and the Whig leaders were equally praised.

The boat had been loaded with pork in barrels, corn, and hogs, and it slid into the Sangamon River, then overflowing with the spring "fresh,"

with a big splash.

The three st.u.r.dy navigators, accompanied by Offutt himself, floated away in triumph from the waving crowd on the bank.

The first incident in the voyage occurred the 19th of April, at Rutledge's mill dam at New Salem, where the boat stranded and "hung"

there a day and a night.

HOW ABE GOT THE FLATBOAT OVER THE DAM

New Salem was destined to fill an important place in the life of Abraham Lincoln. One who became well acquainted with him described him as the New Salemites first saw him, "wading round on Rutledge's dam with his trousers rolled up nine feet, more or less."