Abraham held the “gad” and guided the oxen.  He carried with him, also, a little stock of pins, needles, thread, and buttons.  These he peddled along the way; and, at last, after fifteen days of slow travel, the emigrants came to the spot picked out for a home.  This time it was on a small bluff on the north fork of the Sangamon River, ten miles west of the town of Decatur.  The usual log house was built; the boys, with the oxen, “broke up,” or cleared, fifteen acres of land, and split enough rails to fence it in.  Abraham could swing his broad-axe better than any man or boy in the West; at one stroke he could bury the axe-blade to the haft, in a log, and he was already famous as an expert rail-splitter.

By this time his people were settled in their new home, Abraham Lincoln was twenty-one.  He was “of age”—­he was a man!  By the law of the land he was freed from his father’s control; he could shift for himself, and he determined to do so.  This did not mean that he disliked his father.  It simply meant that he had no intention of following his father’s example.  Thomas Lincoln had demanded all the work and all the wages his son could earn or do, and Abraham felt that he could not have a fair chance to accomplish anything or get ahead in the world if he continued living with this shiftless, never-satisfied, do-nothing man.

So he struck out for himself.  In the summer of 1830, Abraham left home and hired out on his own account, wherever he could get a job in the new country into which he had come.  In that region of big farms and no fences, these latter were needed, and Abraham Lincoln’s stalwart arm and well-swung axe came well into play, cutting up logs for fences.  He was what was called in that western country a “rail-splitter.”  Indeed, one of the first things he did when he struck out for himself was to split four hundred rails for every yard of “blue jeans” necessary to make him a pair of trousers.  From which it will be seen that work was easier to get than clothes.

He soon became as much of a favourite in Illinois as he had been in Indiana.  Other work came to him, and, in 1831, he “hired out” with a man named Offutt to help sail a flat-boat down the Mississippi to New Orleans.  Mr. Offutt had heard that “Abe Lincoln” was a good river-hand, strong, steady, honest, reliable, accustomed to boating, and that he had already made one trip down the river.  So he engaged young Lincoln at what seemed to the young rail-splitter princely wages—­fifty cents a day, and a third share in the sixty dollars which was to be divided among the three boatmen at the end of the trip.

They built the flat-boat at a saw mill near a place called Sangamon town, “Abe” serving as cook of the camp while the boat was being built.  Then, loading the craft with barrel-pork, hogs, and corn, they started on their voyage south.  At a place called New Salem the flat-boat ran aground; but Lincoln’s ingenuity got it off.  He rigged up a queer contrivance of his own invention and lifted the boat off and over the obstruction, while all New Salem stood on the bank, first to criticise and then to applaud.