The trees fell before his axe.
In January 1830 he removed to his new home, and in November 1831 his fourth child was born. This baby boy received the name of James Abram Garfield. Little did the humble backwoodsman dream that the name he lovingly gave his child would one day be on the lips of millions of his fellow-countrymen; that it would rank with those of princes, kings, and emperors; and that it would be linked for ever with the history of the United States of America.
CHAPTER III.
A FIRE IN THE FOREST.
The Effects of Prairie Fires—How Abram Garfield saved his Crops—The sudden Illness and Death of Abram Garfield—The Grave to the corner of the Wheatfield.
One of General Sherman's veteran soldiers was once describing a prairie fire. When he had finished his story, he raised himself to his full six feet height, and with flashing eyes said, "If I should ever catch a man firing a prairie or a forest, as God helps me, I would shoot him down in his deed."
No wonder that the old soldier was fired with indignation when he thought of the terrible consequences which often resulted from such thoughtless or wanton proceedings. The loss to settlers is often appalling. The prairies, which in the day-time seem dry, dull, and uninteresting, give place at night to the lurid play of the fire fiend, and the heavens and horizon seem like a furnace. It is a grand, yet awful sight. Cheeks blanch as the wind sweeps its volume towards the observer, or across his track.
Full in the distance is seen the long line of bright flame stretching for miles, with its broad band of dark smoke-clouds above. Often it rages unchecked for miles and miles, where the cabins of the settlers have just been set up. No words can describe, no pencil paint, the look of terror when the settler beholds advancing towards him the devouring element. When it is first seen, all hands turn out, and a desperate attempt is made to overcome the common foe.
Sometimes a counter fire is started, which, proceeding from the settler's log house in the face of the wind, towards the grander coming volume, takes away its force, and leaves it nothing to feed upon. Then it dies away in that direction. In one instance an emigrant was travelling in a close covered waggon, when he was overtaken by the flames. In a moment, horses, family, waggon, and everything were destroyed, and scarcely a vestige remained of what had been.
Abram Garfield had successfully planted his second crop, which was nearly ready for the harvest, when he one day heard the terrible cry, "A fire in the forest." No one knew better than he did the meaning of those fearful words. Not a moment was to be lost, for he saw that it was coming in the direction of his little farm. He had no one to help him but his wife and his two eldest children, but they all set to work to save their home and the ripening crops.
Rapidly they threw up a bank of earth between the fields and the coming fire, and they so far succeeded that it swept round their homestead and continued its progress beyond.
After the long, hard fight with the fire, on a hot day in July, Mr. Garfield sat down on the trunk of a tree to rest. He had, however, conquered one enemy only to fall a victim to another. While sitting resting, and cooling himself in the open air, he caught a chill. That night he awoke in great pain, and his wife thought that he would die before help could be obtained.
In the early morning she sent her daughter Mehetabel for Uncle Boynton, and bade Thomas fetch their nearest neighbour. No doctor lived near, and the friends did all they could for the stricken man. Their efforts were in vain. Gradually he became weaker, and then without a struggle he passed away. His last words to his wife were: "I have planted four saplings in these woods; I must now leave them to your care."
Mrs. Garfield carried her burden of sorrow to that Heavenly Father whom she had learned to trust before the dark cloud of bereavement fell upon her heart and home. But for her confidence in God, and her belief that He would aid her to bring up her fatherless children, she might have given up in despair.
Far from churchyard or cemetery, the widow arranged to bury her dead in the plot of land he had saved from the fire, at the cost of his life. A rough wooden box was made to contain the remains of the brave husband and loving father, and a grave was dug in a corner of the wheatfield. Four or five neighbours, all who lived within a radius of ten miles, attended the funeral, and tried to cheer the hearts of the widow and orphans by sympathetic words and kind and thoughtful actions. Tenderly they bore the body of Abram Garfield to its last resting-place and committed it to the earth, without a prayer except the silent ones which no ear but God's heard.
Then they accompanied the bereaved ones back to their own desolate home. How desolate it was, none who read this book can fully realise. To be alone in the wilderness is an awful experience, which intensified the loss a hundred-fold.
CHAPTER IV.
THE FOUR SAPLINGS.
The Father's Dying Charge—Advised to give up the Farm—A Noble Resolve—Brave little Thomas—A Hard Time of Trial—The Harvest that saved the Family.
Mrs. Garfield had no time to nurse her sorrow. She knew that she must be up and doing, for she had to be both father and mother to her children. "The four saplings" which the dying father had committed to her care were so young that she could scarcely expect much assistance from them.
Winter was fast approaching, and the strong arm of the husband and father would have been severely taxed to supply all the wants of the family. Without the breadwinner there seemed to be nothing before them but starvation. Uncle Boynton was consulted, and he advised his sister-in-law to give up her farm and return to her friends. He said that she could not hope to carry it on alone, and by her unaided efforts support her children.
Mrs. Garfield saw how dark the future was, and yet she could not follow the advice so kindly given. She thought of the lonely grave in the wheatfield, and declared that nothing would induce her to move away from that sacred spot. She felt somehow that she derived comfort and support from the knowledge that she was near the dead husband, who had prepared this home for her and her children. Added to this feeling, there was the self-respect which independence always brings. She saw that if she sold her farm, which was only partly paid for, the money she received would be swallowed up in paying debts, and in the cost of the removal of her family. But this would leave her and her children homeless and penniless, and she decided to remain on the farm.
It was a noble resolve, and came from a brave heart. To remain meant years of hard work, years of patient endurance, years of quiet suffering and numberless privations; yet she calmly faced them all, that she might do her duty to her children, and faithfully discharge the trust imposed upon her. First, she sold a part of her farm, and with the money she paid her debts. Then, asking God to help her, she prepared to fight her way through the difficulties which beset her path.
Her eldest son, Thomas, was only eleven years old when his father died. Mehetabel, his sister, was twelve, a younger sister was seven, and James was not quite two. Thomas was a brave little fellow, and when his mother spoke to him about the work that would have to be done, he offered to undertake it all. Though a boy in years, he spoke and acted like a man.
That first winter, alone in the backwoods, was a terrible time. Snowstorms swept around the humble dwelling, and wolves howled in the forest during the long winter nights. Often the children lay awake in terror when they heard the fearful cries of the hungry animals, and knew that their brave protector was no longer there to defend them from danger.
As soon as spring came round once more, Thomas borrowed a horse from a neighbour, and went about the farm work as he had seen his father do. With the assistance of his mother and, his eldest sister, he planted wheat, corn, potatoes, and other vegetables. Then his mother helped him to fence the wheatfield which contained her husband's grave. With her own hands she brought wood from the forest and split it up into rails for that purpose. Then the whole of the cleared land, in which the log house stood, was fenced, and the patient workers waited for the harvest.
