It's fun to read old community history books. Our state dates from 1889 and that makes us 119 years old now; most of these books include early settler stories, even ones pre-dating statehood. I have in front of me now the Grant County history book printed in 1976. I took note of some of the nicknames people were known by: Rattlesnake Dick, Negro Pete, and Old Bull. Rattlesnake lived in the Dogtooth Hills near Raleigh, Negro Pete, a black man, homesteaded somewhere in the county, and Old Bull seems to have gotten his name somehow from a famous Norwegian violinist.
Help wasn't readily available. People needed to take care of themselves. One story told of how a man and his team of horses were filling in an old well. The horses' footing caved away and they slipped into the bottom of the well. He did what he had to do - shovel dirt into the well until the horses rose high enough to step out.
A young boy wanted his sisters to help with his milking chores each morning, but they'd always sleep in, sleep in, that is, until the day he threw a dead rattlesnake into their bed. After that, all he had to do was make a hissing sound at their door.
Cat Coulee John lived in Sims when he was a little boy. Instead of going to school, he preferred to herd, for pay, the cows of families who lived there. One lady never paid anything so he'd always drive her cow into muddy swampland. Another lady who never wanted to give him pay got her cow milked out onto the ground where it soaked away.
Donald Stevenson settled in the area. He owned a freighting company and hauled goods all over the region. One winter his train of oxen and wagons got caught in a blizzard near, I'm quite sure, the area where I was born and raised, Sheldon. A roaring three day storm prevented rescue of the unprotected animals and men, and 21 oxen died. Two men with a dog sled carrying mail froze to death. Recently I had a hand in getting Stevenson elected to the ND Cowboy Hall of Fame when I spoke in support of his election before an annual meeting of those members.
A couple, married in 1906, received a wedding gift of eleven head of cattle from parents. They, along with other families, drove them from Zeeland to a river ferry crossing near Fort Yates. Women, children, and belongings were taken across first. On the second trip carrying the men and the cattle, the ferry struck a sandbar and lodged there until the next day. They all spent a nervous night because they were afraid of the Indians who lived nearby.
The stories go on and on. I read them often to remind myself that the people who settled this country were usually deprived of the things we take for granted.
