Finally Wheeler said, "Are all the Tenth Michigan like you fellows?"

"Oh, no," said the other, "we are mostly horse farriers and blacksmiths and not much accustomed to fighting." "Well," said Wheeler, "if I had three hundred such men as you, I could march straight through h--l!"

Eighty-eighth Day.

_McKune House_, CHELSEA, MICHIGAN, _August Seventh_.

Left Ypsilanti bright and early in order to save time, for although nearly the middle of August, I still felt the intense heat, and the dry dusty roads often made my daily journeys far from agreeable. For several days the mercury ranged between 85 and 90, and as the route was at this time due west, the sun nearly stared me out of countenance in the afternoon. Ann Arbor was reached about ten o'clock, but I did not take more than a pa.s.sing glance at the University, noticing, however, that women as well as men were among the students--a recent and wise change in the law of the inst.i.tution. The people were raising a flag over one of the buildings as I rode through, and on it in conspicuous letters were the names of Tilden and Hendricks.

Delhi, with no signs of a Lalla Rookh, and Scio, modest under the dignity of its suggestive Latin name, were quaint landmarks along my way, but I rode on a mile beyond to have dinner at Dexter. The Huron River has its source near here, in one of a cl.u.s.ter of lakelets, bordering on Livingstone and Washtenaw counties. All Michigan is covered with these small bodies of water, which, with the streams, lie upon its green surface like pearls in a network of silver.

Leaving Dexter, I had company all the way to Chelsea. Large flocks of sparrows flew along, lighting upon the telegraph wires, and as I approached they would fly away and settle again farther along, keeping up a kind of race, which was evidently fun for them, and which greatly amused me. It seemed as though they were tireless, and when I and my horse reached our destination fatigued, after twenty-six miles of travel in the sun, these strong-winged fellows were ready for another flight. I do not doubt that they easily accomplished the return journey, for we cannot compute the distance they can cover in a day. They are hardy little fellows and, despite the objections urged against them, have many admirable qualities, not the least among which is their tenacity of purpose.

Eighty-ninth Day.

_Hurd House_, JACKSON, MICHIGAN, _August Eighth_.

A few minutes after seven in the morning found me in the saddle at Chelsea. I stopped on my way at the _Herald_ office and then struck off towards the main road, along which I cantered to Gra.s.s Lake, where I had dinner and remained until three o'clock. This rest was thoroughly enjoyed, the more so perhaps, as I learned before leaving Chelsea that if my advance agents had not made arrangements for me elsewhere, the people would have asked me to lecture here. In that event I should not have been so familiar with the quiet charms of Gra.s.s Lake.

Probably there are those who, if they had been in my place, would have denied themselves these halts along the way, but they would have been deprived of a double gratification. In the first place they would miss much of the character of the country through which they pa.s.sed, the real difference in the manners and customs of the people; and they would miss the opportunity of a.s.suring the credulous that they were not making a test ride across the continent within a certain time and for a certain reward.

News often travels incredibly fast when there are no evident means of communication, and I was often amused by the curiosity which my advent excited and the reasons which were whispered about in the villages through which I pa.s.sed, as to the object of my journey. Indeed many Michiganders, from quiet haunts in their native wilds, made short pilgrimages "to town" in order to look at one whom they fancied might hold a proud place for having crossed the continent in so many days, hours and seconds. My horse even was looked upon with awe, as "the charger upon which General Washington rode during the war of the Revolution!" But this anachronism belongs to New York.

Leaving Gra.s.s Lake late in the afternoon, it was necessary to make better time in order to cover the remainder of the twenty three miles lying between Chelsea and Jackson. The pace quickened. I came into the latter city at six o'clock, and rode directly to the hotel.

Ninetieth Day.

_Hurd House_, JACKSON, MICHIGAN, _August Ninth_.

I clipped the following notice from the _Citizen_ of this date, as a memento of my stay at Jackson. It chronicled the fact that:

"Captain Willard Glazier lectured last evening in the interest of the Custer Monument Fund. His lecture was a good historical review delivered with graceful rhetoric and at times real eloquence. The Captain is still in the city giving his horse a rest; a n.o.ble Kentucky Black Hawk, whom he has ridden all the way from Boston, and whom he expects to carry him to San Francisco. He starts to-morrow morning for Battle Creek, where he lectures on Sat.u.r.day evening."

My advance agent, Babc.o.c.k, went on to Battle Creek in the morning, where arrangements were made with local committees for my lecture on the twelfth. After he had gone I made a leisurely inspection of the city.

It was impossible to do more on account of the extreme heat.

This may no doubt be considered the centre of the closely populated southern end of Michigan, a region dear, in times past, to the heart of the Indian, but which knows him no more. A Chippewa chief standing upon this soil, once said: "These lakes, these woods, these mountains were left to us by our ancestors; they are our inheritance, and we will part with them to no one." He knew not the strength of the pale faces who listened; for within a few years they were ready to claim, on the same grounds, those hills, and lakes, and mountains for their own.

Compared to the peninsula, whose mineral-laden sh.o.r.es are washed by Superior, Michigan and Huron, there is the greatest contrast; and La Hontan, making a little exploratory trip up there before anyone else, called it "the f.a.g end of the world." These words might still be applied to some of the wildest northern points, but here is the very heart of civilization.

Jackson lies in the coal fields that reach down through several of the southern counties. This deposit is not rich, owing to the amount of sulphur in it, and the demand is chiefly local. The Grand River divides the town and, with the bridge that spans it, adds much to the picturesque effect.

Ninety-first Day.

_Cooley House_, PARMA, MICHIGAN, _August Tenth_.

Spent the forenoon in my room at the Hurd House, Jackson, writing letters to my wife, Major Hastings and others. In the afternoon there was a street parade of Howe's London Circus which was a very fantastic affair, but which seemed to be hugely enjoyed by everybody. Later in the day the great tent was upset by a gust of wind, accompanied by a thunder-shower, and a droll scene followed, which caused considerable excitement. The people were left exposed with the rain coming down upon them in torrents. So far I have seen nothing more amusing than the country boys and girls rushing up town drenched, and for once at least indifferent to the charms of the "big show."

The storm having pa.s.sed, I ordered _Paul_ after supper, rode down to the office of the _Patriot and Citizen_, and after a few minutes'

conversation with the editor, hurried on toward Parma, which was reached late in the evening. The ride in the dark was cool, but somewhat lonely.

It was probably on such nights as this that young Dean, the enterprising settler of years ago, played his nocturnal tricks upon his neighbors. He came out to Michigan when it was a wilderness, to make his fortune by clearing land at ten dollars an acre, and while he was drudging he expected to have a little fun. It was his habit to work away all day chopping trees within an inch of the falling point, and then about ten o'clock, when the settlers were well asleep, to go out and give a blow to the end tree, so that it would fall against the others and send them crashing like a row of ninepins. How the old forests must have rung with their thundering and how that plotter Dean must have relished his mischief!

As I approached Parma, in the darkness I could see nothing about the village to suggest that other Parma, far away under an Italian sky, but there is a resemblance, for the European duchy and its modest American namesake both lie in a rich agricultural region; and if I mistake not the dull white freestone that is quarried here in such large quant.i.ties, finds a prototype over the sea.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE COUNTRY PEDDLER.]

Ninety-second Day.

_Witt House_, MARSHALL, MICHIGAN, _August Eleventh_.

As there was a heavy rainfall in the morning, I waited in Parma until nearly ten o'clock, and even then was obliged to start in a thunder-shower in order to keep my appointment for the following evening at Battle Creek. This required no sacrifice, for, excepting the discomfort of wet clothes, the change was agreeable. I reached Albion in time for dinner, and immediately made myself comfortable at the hotel.

Rest and refreshment having the desired effect, I afterward took a short stroll through the town, which I found very wide awake, although the Methodist college, the life of the place, was still closed for the summer vacation. In the meantime the men of the village had met, and before I remounted, came to me and persuaded me to return by rail and deliver the Ouster lecture on the fifteenth. Glad to do all I could for the "Benefit Fund," I readily consented and started away with the good wishes of the impromptu committee. Marshall, being only twelve miles beyond, was reached early in the evening, so that before dark I had time to get a mental picture of the place. Calhoun County has its capitol here, and in 1853 it was looked upon as one of the most flourishing towns in Michigan. It has not reached the predicted pinnacle of importance, but it has a pleasant situation, some flourishing flour mills, and is altogether a credit to the "Wolverines."

Ninety-third Day.

_Potter House_, BATTLE CREEK, MICHIGAN, _August Twelfth_.

As soon as _Paul_ was led out in front of the Witt House at Marshall, a large crowd gathered about us; and when I had taken my seat in the saddle, one of the number stepped forward in behalf of the townspeople to invite me to return at a time which had previously been agreed upon and lecture on the heroes of the Revolution. Giving them the best promise I could, I hurried away as I had a good six hours' ride before me.

Since the day before there had been a decided change in the weather. The sun blazed down with almost tropical heat, drying up the roads and making my way a veritable fiery furnace. I had a rare opportunity for watching "Old Sol" on these solitary rides, as he appeared unfailingly in the morning, swung through the heavens, and vanished in the west at night. It was now harvest time, and since that early day in May on which I started westward, I had kept my eye on him like a true worshipper, half understanding the pagan with his devotion to Apollo, and half in sympathy with the Indian who greets the Sun-G.o.d and weaves the splendid symbol into pouch and canoe and moca.s.sin. Between the hours of ten and four particularly the heat was intense, but in other respects the day was uneventful.

Ninety-fourth Day.

_Private House_, BATTLE CREEK, MICHIGAN, _August Thirteenth_.

On the preceding evening a full house greeted me at Stuart's Hall, where I was introduced by a comrade of the G. A. R., Lieutenant Eugene T.

Freeman. After the lecture I met several of the leading men of the town and later was invited to a private residence, where I was made at home during the remainder of my stay. The Lieutenant called for me on Sunday morning, and I accompanied him to church, meeting the pastor, Rev. L. D.

Palmer, who spoke with animation and warmth and made the service an effective one. I enjoyed it all the more perhaps as I realized that before many Sundays I would be on the Great Plains beyond the Mississippi, where churches are known to be very rare. Continuing his courtesies, my comrade friend drove me out to the favorite resort, Lake Goguac, in the afternoon and there I had several fine views of the surrounding country. This little incident suggests an interesting theory concerning one of the pre-historic races who are supposed to have occupied this section of the country. It seems that in the ancient symbolic ma.n.u.scripts of the Aztecs frequent mention is made of a land which they called Aztelan, compounded of the symbols A. T. S. and signifying "Lake Country," from which also their own name is derived, making it to mean "the people of the lake country." They refer to their former home as a country lying towards the north and giving further details which might be descriptive of the Peninsular State--so the theorist thinks. As a coincident, but advanced nevertheless as a strong argument, the learned gentleman states that the Wyandots have a tradition to the effect that hundreds of years ago, the builders of the mounds were driven southward by invaders from the northeast; and pursuing the magic thread, he suggests that the Aztecs were usurpers in Mexico according to their own traditions and the corroboration of Spanish history. If this is the case, my comrade and myself, in visiting this pretty little lake, may have trodden upon the same soil which had been pressed by the feet of the mysterious builders of the mounds. I am personally a trifle sceptical on this point, and believe that the key to this part of ancient history is yet to be found.

Ninety-fifth Day.

_Kalamazoo House_, KALAMAZOO, MICHIGAN, _August Fourteenth_.

On this day I pa.s.sed a fine wheat-growing section in the valley of the Kalamazoo, whose richest part is probably near the Big Village--its namesake. This river, which drains Hillsdale, Kalamazoo, Calhoun and Allegan counties, and is navigable for forty miles above its mouth, has, I believe, more traffic than any one of the rivers of Michigan.

Throughout its length of two hundred miles it flows through pine and oak forests, through the richest section of a State famed for its agricultural products, and like the Nile, if I may so compare the relics of a great people with those of one comparatively unknown, is looked down upon by the silent monuments of the past. To me the comparison is not unreasonable, for I consider the tumuli of those mound-builders scattered over the hills and valleys of America, worthy of as much interest and respect as the more splendid remnants of a higher civilization.

At this point the stream is still broad and picturesque. As to its name I am undecided. According to some it is a corruption of Ke-Kenemazoo, meaning "the boiling pot," and according to others of Kik-alamazoo, "the mirage river," because to the fanciful Indian the stones that jutted, dark and wet, out of the river-bed looked like otters. The village on its banks was settled in 1829, and after being known for two years by the name of its first settler, Bronson, became, in 1836, Kalamazoo. It is thoroughly alive, has a population of about 18,000, and its position as the half-way place between Detroit and Chicago adds considerably to its importance. I lectured here to a full house, being introduced by Major R. F. Judson, formerly of General Custer's staff, and bearing a high reputation as a soldier. Intercourse with one who had known the General so well, and who held him in such loyal regard, gave me a new insight into the life of

"That mighty man of war, A lion in battle, and a child by the fireside."