MARY'S GENEALOGY TREASURES
I remember a trip to Cut Bank, Montana with my father, Thomas
Helgeson, when I was quite young. The wagon was loaded with
eighty bushels of wheat. It was pulled by two horses for wheelers
and unknowingly, two of the balkiest mules anybody had the privilege
of driving for leaders. The mules were borrowed from a neighbor,
Roland Swallow of Del Bonita. Hay packed in wool sacks and gunny
sacks full of oats were taken for feed. The first mistake was putting
these sacks of feed on the back of the load with two mules tied on
behind. Not realizing mules have such long necks and reach, we had
no oats or sacks on the load at the end of the first quarter mile. We
had to go back and sack up some more oats.
A real steep hill a quarter of a mile from home was the reason for not
using the leaders till we got downhill. We had to rough lock the wagon,
which means taking a log chain and chaining one back wheel so it can't
turn, to hold the load back going down steep hills. Our first trouble was
crossing a small coulee. The wagon rolled back after we crossed a ditch
at the bottom of a coulee. This jerked the mules and we found out what
kind of leaders we had, two balky mules that wouldn't tighten a tug. If
anybody had been there they would have seen one mad Norwegian.
After saying a few blessings to those mules Dad told me to watch the
outfit and he would go to Einar Byttet's and get a team of horses.
Einar lived about two miles from our farm. After taking the borrowed
team back we got on our way again, but not too far.
About six miles farther on was a place we called the Fisher place, where
A. 0. Fisher lived at that time. A short distance from this place was a
creek fed by springs and runoff water. There were two layers of ice on
it. The wagon wheels broke through the first layer. The mules decided
this was as good a time as any for a rest, so refused to tighten a tug again.
The same story "watch the outfit, I have to go get a team of horses from
Mr. Fisher. " The mules were replaced with Fisher's team, but he insisted
on driving his own horses. With two drivers it's pretty hard to get all
four horses pulling together. Two tries and Mr. Fisher unhooked his
team and started to leave. Dad asked where he was going. He said,
"Home, I don't make my horses balky for no man. " Dad was a pretty
disgusted Norwegian. He had to chop all the ice across that creek
before the horses could pull the wagon over. The mules, hooked
back on the lead, seemed real satisfied; away we went. That night
we made it to John Tangen's place, ten miles from home. We were
really making time!
The next day after leaving about 7 A.M. we made it to the south fork
of the Milk River. The river ice was breaking up as this was early
spring and the ice was melting. The ice wouldn't hold up an eighty
bushel load of wheat, so we were stymied again. Milford O'Bray,
from Twin River, came from Cut Bank with a light buggy and driving
team. He crossed the river to our side, but said we'd never make it
across with a load of grain. My father said, "Be damned if I am turning
back after spending two days to get here. " Milford told us to make
camp as he couldn't help us that day, but would come back early next
morning to help us cross. Henry Walburger, who lived on Thorpe Ranch
to the south, rode up to the river on the other side. He hollered over and
asked where we were headed. My father said, "To Cut Bank with a load
of wheat. " Henry said, "I think you have reached the end of the line.
You will never make it across this river with that load." My father said,
"I'm bringing the load over if I got to carry it over in buckets." Henry
said, "if that's the case I'll help you." We took our blankets across
and spread them out on the other side of the river. We carried that load
of wheat over in buckets and piled it on the blankets. Henry then took
his saddle horse and lariat and pulled the wagon out on the ice, where the
ice was still joined to the shore. When he got to the middle of the river
he had to pull the wagon down river a ways to where the ice was joined
to the bank again and got it across. Dad led the horses and mules over
one at a time so they wouldn't break through. We then hitched horses
and mules to the wagon and loaded the grain, bucket by bucket. We
made it to Henry's place that night, two days after we had left home.
After leaving in the morning of the third day we arrived at an abandoned
farm commonly known in those days as the windmill farm. Most people
from our area stayed there whenever they were too late to get to the
elevator to get unloaded. The windmill still worked and the well had
lots of water for our horses. After getting situated in the house we
decided to look for something to eat as we were pretty hungry. Dad
found some beans in the cupboard so we started to boil them. After
about two hours those beans were just as hard as they were to start
with, so we ate them anyway and went to bed.
The fourth day we made it to the elevator, unloaded the grain and went
to town to do our shopping for groceries and things our neighbors had
ordered, which was always the case when anybody went to town.
We started for home and as it got so late we didn't get any farther
than back to the old windmill farm, but this time we had plenty to eat.
That was the end of the fourth day.
The fifth day we made it back to Henry Walburger's at the Thorpe ranch,
and stayed overnight. Next morning Henry said, "You know that river is a
lot worse now than when you crossed before so I better go with you and
see if you make it across." When we got to the river my dad said he
would try it with four head hooked on the wagon. This was in case
the wagon broke through, then one team couldn't pull it. About
twenty feet out horses and mules broke through the first layer of
ice as the river had flooded early that spring and frozen again, thus
forming two layers of ice. When we were in about two feet of water
and ice, one of our horses broke through the second layer of ice and
couldn't get up.
Henry rode out and got the halter rope snubbed onto his saddle horn
and pulled the horse back up on his feet. We finally made it across
with everything in one piece. We arrived back home that night really
late, safe and sound. What a trip.
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