ndeed!" replied mamma, "although there were at that time
steamboats upon the lake; but father had had so terrible an experience
upon his previous journey, that he would not subject his family to the
caprices of Lake Erie. He had started from Buffalo upon a schooner,
but a dreadful storm arose, in which the boat struggled for three days
and was then obliged to put back to Buffalo a complete wreck. Father
declared at that time that he would never expose his family to the
hair-breadth escape from death that he had undergone; consequently, he
hired a strong wagon at Buffalo, and we travelled along what was called
the 'Lake Shore Road' to the town of North East, whence we took a
southern course to Wattsburgh.

"When at Wattsburgh, we were only eight miles distant from our
destination, but as we were now to leave the main road and plunge into
the deep forest, father exchanged his horses and wagon for a heavy
wooden sled and a yoke of oxen. Then we commenced to realize what our
new life was to be. There was no road through the woods, and the only
indication of the route was blazed or marked trees. Huge logs, so high
that the oxen could barely step over them, lay occasionally across our
path, and from time to time we had to stop while father and brother
Barnes hewed down the trees that obstructed the way. We children
thought this pioneer episode even preferable to our experience upon the
boat, but I remember that dear mother sighed often and deeply.

"At the close of the second day, the eight miles were accomplished, and
we reached father's property. He had bought with the land a rough
little log-house, or rather hut, as it had but one room, and in this we
were to live until he could build a better one. At the sight of her
dreary home, mother's heart fairly sunk, and I shall never forget her
tears."

Mamma paused for a moment; then steadying her voice, said:

"I am prouder than ever of my mother when I think how nobly she bore
the separation from her darling son, and her exile from her family,
and, you may almost say, from civilization. She could not, at first,
it is true, restrain her tears, but from that moment never a murmur of
complaint crossed her brave lips, and we children never dreamed, till
years later, how keenly she felt the sacrifice that she had been
compelled to make."

"But were you really so far out of the world, Aunt Esther?" inquired
Ida. "Did you have no neighbors at all? We had two uncles the