No time was lost.  The trees were immediately felled, and in a short time Fernando, looking out from the covered wagon, perceived a clear space of ground of but few rods in circumference.  Stakes, forked at the top, were driven into the ground, on which the father placed logs, and the chinks between these were stopped with clay.  An enclosure was thus hastily thrown up to protect the family from the weather, and the wife and children were removed to this improvised abode.  The trunks of the trees were rolled to the edge of the clearing, and surmounted by stakes driven crosswise into the ground:  the severed tops and branches of trees piled on top of the logs, thus forming a brush fence.  By degrees the surrounding trees were “girdled” and killed.  Those that would split were cut down and made into rails, while others were left to rot or logged up and burned.

A year showed a great improvement in the pioneer’s home.  Several acres had been added to the clearing, and the place began to assume the appearance of a farm.  The temporary shanty had given place to a comfortable log cabin; and although the chimney was built of small sticks placed one on the other, and filled in between with clay, occupying almost one whole end of the cabin, it showed that the inward man was duly attended to; and the savory fumes of venison, of the prairie hen and other good things went far to prove that even backwoods life was not without its comforts. [Footnote:  The author has often heard his mother say that the most enjoyable period of her life was in a pioneer home similar to the above.]

In a few months, the retired cabin, once so solitary, became the nucleus of a little settlement.  Other sections and quarter sections of land were entered at the land office by new corners.  New portions of ground were cleared, cabins were erected; and in a short time the settlement could turn out a dozen efficient hands for house raising or log rolling.  A saw mill soon after was erected at the falls of the creek; the log huts received a poplar weather boarding, and, as the little settlement increased, other improvements appeared; a mail line was established, and before many years elapsed, a fine road was completed to the nearest town, and a stage coach, which ran once, then twice a week, connected the settlement with the populous country to the east of it.

This was the life the hero of this story began.  It might be said to be an unromantic life; yet such a life was known to many of our American ancestors.  It had its pleasures as well as its pains.  It had its poetry as well as its prose, and its joys as well as its sorrows.  The vastness of the forest and depths of the solitude by which he was surrounded, made its impress on his mind.  He grew up in ignorance of tyranny and many of the evils of the great cities.

The cabin home and the narrow clearing about it formed his playground.  His first toy was a half-bushel measure, which he called his “bushee!” This he rolled before him around the log cabin and the paths made in the tall grass, frequently to the dread of his mother, who feared that he might encounter some of the deadly serpents with which the forest abounded.  He remembered on one occasion, when his mother found him going too far, she called: