I have been wondering if the story, of my chilhood days, would be interesting to the young people of these times.  When I think back over the hardships we went through, I wonder how our parents kept up their courage and faith in God's goodness.  I think faith and hope is what kept up their strength to go on and overcome the hard part.

My parents came to Dak when I was about seven years old.  I am now 73.  What they went through the first winter and the first summer, only they could tell and they are gone.  My Mother lived to knit socks for the World War soldiers.  She was very proud and happy over it.

That first winter in those days was something to remember.  Living in a little log cabin, only one room, a little No. 7 cook stove to cook on and to warm the room.  Five miles from any store; plenty of wood that winter, but hard to get.  My father must have suffered, coming from the woods in New York State.  And what my poor Mother went through with Indians every place.  The Indians camped along the river.  She had always lived where she had plenty and nothing to fear.  She lived in fear of those Indians and gave them nearly anything they asked for.  This often left us short on provisions. And the timber wolve howled at night.  The blizzards.  The worry of it all must have been awful.

We had no school that first winter, but the summer was hard..  I remember the stings of the mosquitoes and fleas and at night the mosquitoes made life miserable.  Mother would cover us with mosquito netting, but they got in and the stings were terrible to us.  I can remember how the cattle fought them all night..  The only relief came from a smudge fire of leaves and chips.  The smoke was as hard to take nearly as the mosquitoes.  Well we lived through it all, to see a great many more winters and summers.

The first summer my father planted potatoes.  He had a large crop but lost them in the first cold hard freeze.  He had dug a deep hole and covered them with straw and dirt but the freeze got to them.  74 bushels, you can imagine what a loss.  But there were other vegetables, and plenty of wheat and oats.  The wheat was traded  for flour, so we got through that second winter.

There was school; in a little log school house.  Home made benches to sit on.  Only about a mile from home.  But even at that, w nearly lost our lives, as we got caught in a blizzard one day.  It came suddenly, like a dry white wall, and the roar of the storm was terrific.  We were dismissed at once and started home.  As luck would have it, we had two large [German] boys that went our way.  They were neighbors.  They made us all hold hands and kept us going.  Wind in our faces--oh, it was hard.  I begged them to stop and rest for a minute, only they kept us going and got us safely home.  But our clothing was wet from the fine drifting snow and frozen stiff.  Imagine our Mother's fright.  She hustled our frozen clothes off and in bed we were put, tho it was early afternoon.  We were so glad to get in a warm feather bed and warm milk to drink.  We were so tired and cold.  We were all well as usual the next day.  The blizzard lasted three days.  My father worked so hard to save our stock and did save them.  Some were not so lucky, a good many were frozen as the storm was unexpected so early in the season.

I must tell of another blizzard, I think I was eight years old, that froze cattle and horses and people all over the country.  My father was caring for sixty head of cattle that had been brought from Old Mexico by a man that made a business of buying an fattening cattle , for feed was plentiful.  They were corralled  in a strong corral of logs.  It was seven logs high.  A blizzard came unexpected and  froze them to death. Poor things, it was an awful sight.  They were in all shapes, some standing on their hind feet, front feet up on the fence as they had tried to climb it.  Some were bunched up.  The poor man that owned them had to hire a man to dig a big hole or trench to bury them.  After that storm, my father and the men went around and dug horses and cattle out from under the drifts, and usually where they were drifted under, they were alive but very weak.  In those days places wer not fenced as they are now.  Well, we got to know those blizzards were coming.  Always a lovely morning, warm like a spring morning, but before noon it would come..  The roar could be heard for miles and the cold and fine snow.  My Mother used to say it would go through an inch board for it would drift in where a wall seemed tight.  I must tell a little incident about my cousin, and we always thought it a good joke on him.  He was coming home from school one winter day when he saw a wolf coming across the prarie right towards him.  He was terrible freightened so he uncovered his lunch pail and set it down.  He said he thought while the wolf was eating what he left in th pail, he could get away.  He had come that fall from New York State and did not know that he was not in danger for the cattle were plentiful and the wild animals were not hungry.  There were a great many timber  wolves in those days, but we never thought they were dangerous.  My cousin is living in New York State now; he is ederly like myself and has a family.  He can tell a good many exciting things about those days.

When we children were small, my father bought an indian pony for us to ride.  A beautiful little black pony and gentle.  We all loved him.  We called him "Nig".  I remember one terrible storm, my father found him chilled, shaking with cold in the morning when he went out to fed he stock. He covered him with a blanket but  he stll shook.  We had a large log kitchen that winter, so he brought him in the kitchen and tied him to one corner with plenty of straw on the floor untill the storm was over.  He was stabled with the other stock but the cold was awful those terrible three days.  Blizzards, I often wonder how we lived though it all.  My father died at the age of 51.  I think perhaps the hardships of those days, shortened his life.  These are only a few of the troubles and hardships we had in those first hard winters, but we enjoyed life. There are a lot of pleasant things to remember.  At school we had spelling matches, little parties and sometimes little dances in our home.  And we had singing at home.  My Mother played the little malodian and we all sang. My father sang bass.  The Sunday afternoons were very pleasant, and my father always read the Bible.  I think those happy hours on Sunday gave them strength and patience to go on with the hard parts.

The summers were beautiful, tho we had to fight insects, we enjoyed life.  We had boat riding on the Jame River and swimming and fishing from early April untill the river froze over in the winter, if we cared for them.  The fish were delicious and sometimes they caught a 50 to 60 pound catfish.  We never ate the large ones.  The meat was course and not so sweet and good.  There were many kind of fish, but to this day I remember how the catfish was the sweetest and best to our notion.

I shall never forget getting out of bed, slipping down to the river-quiet- so as not to freighten the fish away.  Slip in under the willows with a big grub worm for bait and then just sit down and listen to the fish drum under the boat.  The birds you can never imagine the birds.  They made the sweetest music I have ever heard.  Then the fish began to bite and we were kept busy untill we had enough for a meal.  Then home to breakfast.  Then plenty of work after.  Milking, feeding the calves and the chickens, drive the cows out to feed.  Sometimes we herded them to keep them away from the fields riding our dear little black pony that lived one day and one night in the corner of our kitchen.  There were no boys in our family then.  My brother was three years old so he never enjoyed our fathers loving car as we girls did.  We children are scattered now.  One lives in Omaha, Nebraska;  one in Yankton, South Dakota.  My brother and his large family in Fremont, Illinois.  I'm in Globe, Arizona.  We have all run a lot of trouble and a lot of happiness and none of us would lose the memories of our childhood days.  Well, I could go on and on but I hope this will be enjoyed by someone.

Will sign Myself
       Mother Robinson