The latchstring, like a welcome hand, bade them enter. A bright fire greeted them with her golden rays and warmth, and the sound of the teakettle, cheerily singing, they catch the glad refrain and quickly joined with—
"Home! Home! sweet, sweet home!
Be it ever so humble,
There's no place like home."
How well they realized the true meaning of home, as no roof had sheltered them for the past ten months. As the family gathered around the ruddy light of the cheerful fire, which was their only light, plans were made to visit Oregon City for supplies of food and clothing. Indians, with their canoes, conveyed them to their destination. Soon wheat, bolts of flannel, with other necessary articles, were purchased and shipped; fathers stepped on board, and the trusty Indian with a stroke of the paddle sent the frail craft swiftly gliding o'er limpid water. Ere long they were rushing over the Clackamas rapids, which in hurried haste, flows on and yet is never gone. As the sun was sinking behind the hills, they reached home, where the anxious mother, blinded by tears of gladness, thanked God for the much needed supply of clothing and wheat, which was their only bread. Deer and other game were plentiful, and easily brought down by their trusty rifle. Salmon was bought of the Indians. Ducks, geese, and swan were numerous. All winter mothers were kept busy cutting and making clothing for the entire household; also teaching their daughters how to sew, knit, and attend to general housework; and if mothers were sick they did the work with willing hands. The canoe and bateaux were their only means of transportation. Neighbors would surprise the family by bringing their violins, and spending the evening talking and dancing. The large room would be cleared of all furniture, which was placed in the loft where the small children were put to bed; soon the merry sound of tripping feet were keeping time to Money Musk, and other old time music, the old men talked over the possibilities of Oregon. One thought bridges would span the Willamette; others shook their heads, saying not while we live. Our children may live to see one. Others thought railroads would be built across the continent; all looked at the speaker and echoed "A railroad! Never, over those mountains. Why, man, no one in God's world will live to see that day. Steamers and ships will come, but no railroad."
Our pioneer mothers made their dresses with plain skirts; waists were sewed onto the skirt; sleeves were much like those worn by the women of to-day. Their hair was combed smooth by their forehead and wound in a coil high on their head, many wore side combs, a high back comb held their coil of glossy hair. Hairpins were an unknown luxury. White handkerchiefs were worn in place of collars, and they looked very pretty crossed or tied in a bow at the throat. All were deft with the needle, also weaving; those who have the rare blue and gray counterpanes, manufactured by their willing hands, possess an heirloom of great value.
In the spring of 1846 gardens were made by those living on farms, from which early vegetables were procured, and in the fall many bushels of potatoes, pease, and other vegetables were stored; of summer fruit there were wild strawberries, and later raspberries and blackberries, of which large quantities were picked and dried; also hazel bushes, producing nuts in abundance, which were gathered and stored for winter use. There was not much buying and selling, except of wheat, which was used as currency, as well as for food. Portland was founded in 1845 by pioneers who were quick to see the magnitude and resources of the country. J. B. Stephens, who was a cooper, saw the large revenue to be made by exporting salmon, and soon began making barrels and kegs, from which he netted a large profit. The first tannery built in Portland was erected near where the exposition building is located, by D. H. Lownesdale, who had the honor of introducing a new circulating medium, which was Oregon tanned leather.
In 1845 the first ferry from the east bank to the west shore was a canoe.
In 1845 Portland was named.
In 1846 the first blacksmith shop was erected on the northwest corner of First and Morrison streets.