THE VALUE OF A COMPASS PT2

 

John Cutter West

Continuing the story, my ancestor John C West was lost on a frozen lake in Maine
in a snowstorm with his friends Enoch Abbott and  Joseph Chase. When Chase
decided to lay down and take a nap, my 3x great grandfather took drastic measures:

"West applied the brad, then laid his
goad the length of his back, at the same
time in  peremptory tones commanding
him to get up and walk or he would take
his pelt. Chase with a temper at fever
heat leaped from his recumbent position
and for a few minutes a fierce fisticuff
ensued. Chase was by this time well
roused and after due explanations peace
was restored and they resumed their
journey.

They soon came to more fresh tracks
when West ordered  halt,  "Now," said
he "we have all this time been playing
fool We are beyond a doubt traveling
in a circle like all bewildered people.
These cattle know their way and can
keep their course much better than we
can. Now I propose to turn them loose
and let them take the lead. They are
tired and hungry and will make the near-
est habitation." All agreed and the poor
tired creatures were soon set at liberty.
The master ox belonging to West with
a low cow bossy call to the others start-
ed off followed by the entire herd.

As it proved the ox knew best. On
they plodded for a half hour or more,
when the leader began toi low and quick-
en his pace.  "Good!" exclaimed West,
"we are near some habitation. Old Star
never tells lies."

Anon they found themselves in Joe
Stone's dooryard. Joe hearing the low
of the oxen came out to bid then wel-
come. The house though small would
accommodate the men but how about
the oxen. A small log hovel for his cow
was all the out-house he possessed. A
stack of hay stood near the hovel to
which the oxen made way. Joe
came out, mounted the hove, thence the
haystack, undid the fastenings at the
top and completely buried the oxen in
hay. "There." said he, " they are all
right for to-night, now for supper."

After a hearty supper of moose and
deer steak, they looked to their oxen to
find them all resting on the soft hay,
each ox beside his mate. Next morning
the cattle made their way to the sleds,
were yoked and sped for home."

THE VALUE OF A COMPASS PT 1

 ((First posted in 2007))

I've posted about this incident before but never actually transcribed the article
until now. It's about my3x great grandfather and two friends, Enoch Abbott and
Joseph Chase lost in a snowstorm in northwestern Maine. As we just weathered
the Blizzard of 2015 here in Massachusetts, I thought this was appropriate:

Oxford County Advertiser, Friday, February 3, 1905

The Value of a Compass
by Mark Tapley

We have often admonished people
 who frequent the unbroken forests, espec-
ially those unaccustomed to hunting and
camping,  of the safety in having a pocket
compass, which can be obtained at the
cost of a few cents, and may ofttimes
save the possessor much trouble and
even save a life. We are cognizant of sev-
eral instances where people even old
foresters have become bewildered, in
which case they can always travel in a circle,
and were saved by the instinct of domes-
tic animals, which is seldom at fault.

It was some sixty years ago, before
the Berlin Mills Company monopolized
the timber throughout the Lake country,
that Enoch Abbott, John West, and  Jo-
seph Chase, three prominent citizens of
Upton, then known as Letter B, started
one fine winter's morning each with two
pairs of stalwart oxen laden with hay
and bound for the loggers' camp sit-
uated on the Swift Diamond stream, a
tributary of the Magalloway river. The
sledding was fine and the teams in good
heart. They arrived at their destination
and disposed of their loads before noon.

At one o'clock they started for home
but long before they reached the lake
the sky became overcast and soon devel-
oped into a a thick northeasterly snow
storm. The old track was soon obscured
and the blinding storm completely ob-
scured the distant shore. But on they
drove thinking to reach the opposite
shore before dark. Every few minutes
fresh tracks were discerned in the dim
twilight. These they thought to be part
of the old track leading off the lake.
This would give the fresh courage and
serve to quicken their pace. Darkness
came on and still no signs of land.

Chase began to lag behind but finally
caught up with his sled, threw himself
down complaining of drowsiness and
concluded to take a nap. The others
well knew this to betoken the sleep that
knows no waking, so they combined to
rouse him if possible. But shaking and
warning  of the impending danger was of
no avail. So like the old man with the
saucy boy in the apple tree they resorted
to force.

To be continued, like all good cliffhangers.

THE VALUE OF A COMPASS PT3

I love this story for a number of reasons.

One is the writing style. The author Mark Tapley, couldn't have known it
but journalism was about to change in the next ten years. His writing style  is
Victorian, with words like "anon" and "thence" and phrases like "the sleep
that knows no waking."  The advent of World War 1 and then the era of
muckraking reporters would put an end to the florid style of the 19th century.

Another reason I like it is that it of course features my ancestor John West in
a heroic mode and told me something I hadn't known before I read it, that he
had a team of oxen, one of whom he had named Star, and that he delivered
supplies to a logging camp in winter when he couldn't farm.

I've pondered how Mark Tapley learned of the incident. John West had died in 1862,
forty-three years before the story was written,but five of his children were still alive
and living in the area. Since the it features John so prominently, I suspect it was either
my 2x great grandfather Jonathan P West or one of his brothers, Hiram or Asa, that was
Mr. Tapply's source.

There is another family member in the story, although he isn't mentioned much
in it; Enoch Abbott. Enoch was born in 1782, some twenty years before John West, and
already had grandchildren. One of them, Valora Abbott, would marry my 2x great granduncle
Leonidas West. They are the ancestors of my cousin Zac Anderson in Illinois and Yvonne
West Ball in Washington state.

My thanks to my Aunt Dorothy West Bargar who shared this clipping with me along with
many other things that got me hooked on genealogy!

THE VALUE OF A COMPASS PT2

John Cutter West

Continuing the story, my ancestor John C West was lost on a frozen lake in Maine
in a snowstorm with his friends Enoch Abbott and  Joseph Chase. When Chase
decided to lay down and take a nap, my 3x great grandfather took drastic measures:

West applied the brad, then laid his
goad the length of his back, at the same
time in  peremptory tones commanding
him to get up and walk or he would take
his pelt. Chase with a temper at fever
heat leaped from his recumbent position
and for a few minutes a fierce fisticuff
ensued. Chase was by this time well
roused and after due explanations peace
was restored and they resumed their
journey.

They soon came to more fresh tracks
when West ordered  halt,  "Now," said
he "we have all this time been playing
fool We are beyond a doubt traveling
in a circle like all bewildered people.
These cattle know their way and can
keep their course much better than we
can. Now I propose to turn them loose
and let them take the lead. They are
tired and hungry and will make the near-
est habitation." All agreed and the poor
tired creatures were soon set at liberty.
The master ox belonging to West with
a low cow bossy call to the others start-
ed off followed by the entire herd.

As it proved the ox knew best. On
they plodded for a half hour or more,
when the leader began toi low and quick-
en his pace.  "Good!" exclaimed West,
"we are near some habitation. Old Star
never tells lies."

Anon they found themselves in Joe
Stone's dooryard. Joe hearing the low
of the oxen came out to bid then wel-
come. The house though small would
accommodate the men but how about
the oxen. A small log hovel for his cow
was all the out-house he possessed. A
stack of hay stood near the hovel to
which the oxen made way. Joe
came out, mounted the hove, thence the
haystack, undid the fastenings at the
top and completely buried the oxen in
hay. "There." said he, " they are all
right for to-night, now for supper."

After a hearty supper of moose and
deer steak, they looked to their oxen to
find them all resting on the soft hay,
each ox beside his mate. Next morning
the cattle made their way to the sleds,
were yoked and sped for home.

I'll have a few concluding thoughts in the next post.

THE VALUE OF A COMPASS PT1

I've posted about this incident before but never actually transcribed the article
until now. It's about my3x great grandfather and two friends, Enoch Abbott and
Joseph Chase lost in a snowstorm in northwestern Maine. As we just weathered
the Blizzard of 2015 here in Massachusetts, I thought this was appropriate:

Oxford County Advertiser, Friday, February 3, 1905

The Value of a Compass
by Mark Tapley

We have often admonished people
 who frequent the unbroken forests, espec-
ially those unaccustomed to hunting and
camping,  of the safety in having a pocket
compass, which can be obtained at the
cost of a few cents, and may ofttimes
save the possessor much trouble and
even save a life. We are cognizant of sev-
eral instances where people even old
foresters have become bewildered, in
which case they can always travel in a circle,
and were saved by the instinct of domes-
tic animals, which is seldom at fault.

It was some sixty years ago, before
the Berlin Mills Company monopolized
the timber throughout the Lake country,
that Enoch Abbott, John West, and  Jo-
seph Chase, three prominent citizens of
Upton, then known as Letter B, started
one fine winter's morning each with two
pairs of stalwart oxen laden with hay
and bound for the loggers' camp sit-
uated on the Swift Diamond stream, a
tributary of the Magalloway river. The
sledding was fine and the teams in good
heart. They arrived at their destination
and disposed of their loads before noon.

At one o'clock they started for home
but long before they reached the lake
the sky became overcast and soon devel-
oped into a a thick northeasterly snow
storm. The old track was soon obscured
and the blinding storm completely ob-
scured the distant shore. But on they
drove thinking to reach the opposite
shore before dark. Every few minutes
fresh tracks were discerned in the dim
twilight. These they thought to be part
of the old track leading off the lake.
This would give the fresh courage and
serve to quicken their pace. Darkness
came on and still no signs of land.

Chase began to lag behind but finally
caught up with his sled, threw himself
down complaining of drowsiness and
concluded to take a nap. The others
well knew this to betoken the sleep that
knows no waking, so they combined to
rouse him if possible. But shaking and
warning  of the impending danger was of
no avail. So like the old man with the
saucy boy in the apple tree they resorted
to force.

To be continued, like all good cliffhangers.

THE VALUE OF A COMPASS

Alright, as promised, here's the article about my 3x great grandfather

John Cutter West and two friends being lost in the woods. Double

click on the image to enlarge it to read.