We landed in Dakota Territory about the middle of April 1885. I am sure it was a tedious journey for my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Murray; but to my two sisters Mary and Catherine, and myself, my three brothers Mike, Tom, and Jack, were too young to know what it was all about, the days were packed with strange adventure.

When we left Boston that April afternoon, our relatives and friends were sure we were going West to be scalped by the Indians. At the depot to see us off, were several Aunts and Uncles and Cousins, but the uncle that was a favorite with us children had not gotten there yet, and we were afraid he would miss seeing us off; but he came just as the train was ready to leave with a treat - for all of us. He had only time to shake hands with Mother and Dad and call good-bye girls when the train started, and he had to run to get off.

When I look back to that afternoon 55 years ago , I wonder where Dad and Mother got the courage to start out on such a long journey with six children, the eldest 14 years, the youngest 10 months old. We were all loaded down with luggage except the three small children. Father carried the lunch basket - on one arm and, on the other arm a small puppy in a covered basket. In the lunch basket was food enough for the trip. A whole ham, several loaves of bread, butter, and some cakes. The month-old Newfoundland pup in the other basket. Dad would not let go of that basket for the world. He tried to keep it out of sight so the conductor would not see the dog, but of course he soon got wise to it, and told Dad it had to go in the baggage car. From that time, until we got off the train at Devils Lake, Dad passed the time between the baggage car and our coach. He was so sure something would happen to the pup.

We had to change trains three time before we got to Devils Lake. How Mother got all of us sleepy children and our luggage off and on, has always been a mystery to me. Dad had his hands full looking after the pup and lunch basket. But I must say the pup repaid Dad many times in after years for all the trouble.

There was quite a story connected with the pup. According to the story, the mother of the pup saved my life when I could just walk. I wandered out in the street and at that time a run-a-way horse came tearing down the street. Old Fan grabbed me and carried me to safety. So now her off-spring was going West to grow up with the family in a strange country.

When we got to Minneapolis we met another family who was going to locate near us. So from there on, we traveled together. We arrived in Devils Lake in the evening. Devils Lake was as far as the railroad was built at that time. We were to locate 115 miles west of there, so early next morning the folks were out looking for some one to drive them to Lords Lake. Mother took me along with her, and I can still remember how strange the men looked at that time. I had never seen men dressed in buckskin trousers and jackets. Finally they got a man that agreed to take the both families and we were all loaded in one wagon. There were 16 of us, 5 adults, 11 children and the luggage. The three men sat, on a board put across the front of the wagon box, the two Mothers and the babies on a spring seat across the back of the box, the rest of us and the luggage piled in between the seats. Just as strange a looking outfit as any that went over the trail I imagine.

At noon we stopped along the way and had lunch from Mother's basket, and the driver fed the horses. That night we stayed in what was called a half-way house. They did not have enough food in the house for all of us so Mother made us children some sandwiches, and we ate in our room. Dad was very cross at what they charged him when we could not get enough to eat, and it did not help matters any when he discovered after we were on the road again that he had left his belt behind hanging in the room. The belt was a gift from his fellow-workers when he was leaving Boston.

The next noon we had lunch by the roadside, and that night we got to Dunseith, ND. We were late for supper, but they said they would get supper for us so we had plenty to eat. Next morning Dad bought a cook stove, a box of groceries, a cow and a calf. So the stove was loaded on the wagon, also the groceries, and I had to sit on the stove. I was scared to death I would fall off. The spring seat had been pushed up and the stove placed across the back of the box. Dad walked and led the cow, the calf was to wait till later. We had nine miles to go to be at the end of the journey, but at noon we arrived at Lords Lake and Uncle Paddy's shack.

Uncle Paddy was standing at the door, and a little black dog at his feet. The dog got so scared when he saw so many people he ran to the granary and we could not coax him back to the house for days. Uncle Paddy's shack made of logs 12'-12' with a fire place built across one end. It had a sod roof and a clay floor almost as hard as cement. He had a round tin stove that he cooked on. It was a one-hole affair. Also a hand-made bed, table and benches, and a cellar full of vegetables, potatoes, cabbage, carrots and onions. It must of taken the mothers some time to get a meal for so many, but we children, had so much to see we hated to take time out to eat, but I know we had a meal of mashed potatoes, fried pork, bread, butter, and tea before the driver left to return to Devils Lake.

We were located close to Lords Lake, There was lots of wild fowl. We children never tired of watching them swimming in the water. Dad bought a team of oxen and a wagon at once, and brought the calf home. In a few days we moved to our own house. We children were so thrilled with the cow and calf. We would stand and watch Dad milk. Our freight did not arrive for some time; and when we finally got it, the clothes in the packing case were quite damp so Mother had to spread them on the grass to dry. The second day after spreading the clothes out, we went over to Uncle Paddy's, and while we were there, a prairie fire came along and would have burned them all up, only a settler happened to be going by and beat the fire out, and then came over and told us about it. After that we girls had to stay to watch the place when mother was away.

One day while playing around, we decided to dress the youngsters up in their red wool suits and started down to the lake carrying the babies pig-a-back. Mother was busy in the shack and never saw us go down to the lake, but happened to see us coming back. When she saw all the bright colors, her first thought was Indians, and we surely gave her a scare until we got close enough and she saw that it was we girls. She was disgusted with herself for being so afraid. Uncle Paddy and Dad laughed at her many times. For years every time she saw some one coming walking she was sure it was an Indian until they got close enough so we could see plainly who it was. Nearly every one walked when they were going any where as oxen were the only means of travel in our community at that time.

In the fall of 1885, Uncle John Murray and his bride Grace Gallagher and a family by the name of Sullivan came out from Boston to locate close to us. The first winter Uncle John built a log house close by and started a grocery store so we became accustomed to seeing people walking past our house to the store. The next year, Uncle John took over the Lordsburg Post office (1886) for awhile in his home. This home had the distinction of being used as a home, a store, a post office, a school house and a church in the early years.

We often went hunting with Uncle Paddy around the Lake. When he wanted us to go with him to hunt, he would come over very early in the morning to our house and tap on our window to awaken my sister Mary and me. We would dress in a hurry for we were so anxious to go hunting with him. I remember the second spring we were in Dakota Territory, Uncle Paddy cane for us one morning early, he said he wanted us to go fishing. He was carrying a basket or "creel" as he called it, on his back. This creel was about 2 1/2 feet, long and about 2 1/2 feet wide, and about 3 feet high. It was made from willow branches. When we got to the creek north of Lord's Lake, Uncle Paddy placed the creel in the middle of the creek. He would pick a place where the stream was narrow, then my sister Mary and I would take hold of the creel one on each side of it with the opening of the creel up stream and hold it down tight against the bottom of the creek bed. Uncle Paddy would go some distance up stream and poke here and there along the edge of the bank with a long pole and when a dozen or so fish started down stream, he would run back to us and as soon as the fish went into the creel, he jerked it out of the water. Some time we would catch 6 or 7 each time, some times only 1 or two as the fish would dart out of the creel like a flash, so he had to work very fast. By noon, we had a single wagon box load of fish, and I was sent home to tell father to hitch up the oxen to the wagon and come for the fish. It was very hard to convince Dad that we had a load of fish. In fact he did not believe it until he saw it. That afternoon, Mother and Uncle Paddy cleaned all the fish and salted the in a large packing case. The fish were dried afterwards, and we had dried fish for a couple of years. That was the last season we had fish in the lake. The next winter was a very cold one. The ice was very deep on the lake, and the fish all died. The first warm days in the spring, the dead fish all came to the surface, and the west shore was covered with them. Believe me it did not smell very nice when the warm weather came.

For a couple of years Dad was very busy building. He hauled logs for the buildings from the Turtle Mountains 5 miles away. Uncle Paddy would go along with his gun to hunt. One day in the fall when Dad and Uncle Paddy were coming hone with a load of logs from the Turtle Mountains, they saw a flock of wild turkeys at a distance. Uncle Paddy did not have his gun along that day, so they came home as fast as the oxen could travel. As soon as they got to the house, they unhitched the oxen. Leaving one, they took the other back up the trail, when they sighted the turkeys. Both men walked beside the ox crouched down so the turkeys would not see them till they got close enough for a shot. Uncle Paddy got a big, gobbler. Before he could reload, the rest got away. I don't know what make of gun Uncle Paddy had, but he used to carry a powder horn, some shot and a box of caps. We children. thought it quite a sight to see him load the gun.

The prairie fires were a great menace in the early days. I recall a prairie fire that gave my oldest sister Mary and I a great scare. I think it was the fall of 1888. Mother and Dad had gone to Bottineau with the oxen so left very early in the morning. Bottineau was 13 1/2 miles away. That afternoon my sister noticed a prairie fire. We watched it, and saw that it was coming towards our buildings. We had two large stacks of hay by the barn so we got pails of water and some sacks as we saw the men do once. But as the fire got close, my sister sent me to the school house not far away to ask the teacher to let some of the children help us. I did not get as far as the school house when I saw the teacher and all the children coming running to help. The teacher had seen the fire and they all came to help. We saved the barns and hay, but we could not have done so only for the teacher and children. It was dark before Mother and Dad got home from town. When they got to where the fire had crossed the trail about 1 mile from home, they could not see the buildings and could not, see a light until they were close to the buildings so were very much worried. They thought we were burned out.

In the early days the settlers were like one large family--if you were building, several of the neighbors cam to help. It was the same at threshing time. The men all traded help, and the women helped each other. We had picnics and dances where young and old seemed to enjoy themselves. We were 5 miles from church; and if for some reason Dad could not drive the oxen to church, Mary and I would walk. Sometimes we would get a ride part way with one of the neighbors. I recall we started to walk one winter morning. It was very cold. We thought we might, get a ride, but no one came by, and we walked all the way. We froze our feet quite badly. I don't think we ever walked to church after that.

We had three bad years after we got to Dakota. The gophers ruined the first wheat we sowed. The next year was very dry, and the grain was very short and it was hard to save much of it. The next year the grain looked nice, but we had an early frost so the wheat shrunk and was very poor in quality. After the third year of crop failure, Dad started to get more cows and raise more stock. Mother raised chickens, geese and ducks. We did not have very good luck with the ducks. We were so close to the lake they would go down to the lake and some hunter was sure to mistake them for the wild ducks. Wild ducks were very plentiful in the early days, and I know our folks had their share. Wild geese were very plentiful in the spring and fall. I have seen them in the fields when they looked like patches of snow.

I had the experience of being attacked by a wild goose one spring. We were living up in the Turtle Mountains along the foot hills. One afternoon while herding the cows, one of the cows wandered off. I thought she was just over the hill and did not go for her for awhile, and when I did, she was no where in sight. So I started looking for her. In so doing, I went in to a meadow and around a lake where I had never been before. While going around the lake, a goose flew at me and tried to hit me with her wings. I had to put my arms over my face. I was afraid she would strike me in the eyes. Finally she flew off, and I looked to see where she had gone. I saw her flying across the lake, and there in the water was four little goslings just going out of sight in the rushes at the other side of the lake. Needless to say, I never went over to that lake again. My parents thought the goose must of been wounded in the spring and was not able to fly North with the others.

That same summer Mother saw three bears a short distance from our house, one cinnamon and two dark brown bears which caused some excitement for awhile. We had real cold winters with lots of snow, and sudden storms. I think it was in the last of February or first part of March, 1890 that my sister Mary was caught in a sudden blizzard. A friend of ours was very sick so she sent her young brother Willie Steward after my sister. It was a trip of 15 miles. My sister was not home when he came so he waited for her. They left on the homeward journey about 4 o'clock, and the blizzard started around 5 o'clock. They had gotten only about 6 miles when the blizzard struck with such violence that Mary could not keep the robes around her so Willie put. her down in the bottom of the cutter and covered her over with the blankets. He put his dog in the cutter, too. After awhile he came to a house where some French people lived, and he went in to ask them whether they could stay over night because the blizzard was so bad they could not see anything. The horses refused to face the storm. The man said he had no room, but just across the road there as a big house and barn, and he knew they would let them stay. Then Willie asked the people to let Mary come in and sit by the stove, and he would stay in the barn. He said he would turn the horses loose and they could find shelter. But the man still refused, he said: "No, use big barn, big house, just across the road." Willie told him, 'You can't see a thing outside.' Will you come a show me?' The man said "Yes." So he got ready and started out walking ahead of the horses. After a little while, my sister could tell that they were going round and around. So she called to Willie and said, "We are going around and around." So Willie asked the other man: "Are you lost?" And he said "Yes, My God, I am lost." That must have been around 6 o'clock, and it was 12 o'clock that night before they got to another house. The storm was coming from the West, but the horses would not face it, so they were traveling East all the time. Finally Mary was sure they had crossed a trail so she called to Willie and told him. He was walking ahead of the horses but he went back and felt with his foot till he found the trail. Then he called the other man to bring the horses, and then Willie tried to lead the horses and hold to the trail till he got so cold he could not lead the horses any more. He wanted the other man to lead then, but he said he was too cold, he would freeze. So both men walked behind the cutter and let the horses go. After awhile the cutter got caught on something and the horses stopped. Willie looked up and saw a black bulk and knew it was a house. He said to the other. man, 'You can talk French and English. Go in and tell the people there, we're coming in.'

The other man went in and sat by the stove. After awhile they asked him how he had gotten there, and then he said, "Oh, there is a woman out there." In the meantime, Willie said to Mary, "Come on, you are going in there, if I have to fight." When she stood up, the shawl she had around her head had become so cold it had frozen stiff. She stood at the door trying to bend it around her, when the door opened. She knew the young man that stood there, very well. He knew her, but for a few minutes they were so surprised neither one could say a word. He got her into the house, and he and his brother went out to help put the horses in the barn. The two men had been lost in the storm themselves, and it was their trail that Mary felt when they drove across it.

Willie told the two men his story. They were so angry at the French man, they told him that if they did right, they would turn him out doors; but he kept saying: "I didn't know." The next morning early, they left for Willie's sister's home. The storm had passed. The weather was clear but very cold. After one of these blizzards, the snow would be packed so hard, you could drive anywhere across the prairie. In other words, make your own trail. When Willie's sister's family, saw them coming, they put on such a hot fire, that the thatched roof caught fire. So our young hero had to climb up a ladder to put the fire out before he could warm himself.

The early settlers had many treats of wild strawberries. In the Mountains were pincherries, Juneberries, chokecherries, and wild plums, and high bush cranberries. The Turtle Mountains furnished wood for the settlers in the community for miles around. Every winter dozens of young bachelors would camp in the mountains and haul logs and fire wood to be hauled out for the summer wood stoves. Of course, they would attend all the dances in the neighborhood. about a dozen young men would go in one sleigh. Many of these young men were the leading citizens of the county in later years.

Rose Marie -'pet name '

(Written by Rosanna Murray - Mrs. George H. Fairles. Aunt Annie to you all.)

year 1940

(This story, written in longhand, was found in my mother's trunk after her death January 20th, 1961. Signed by her daughter - Marion Fairles, Casselton, ND.)