Thomas had spent his savings in getting there, and saw no chance of earning more. Having an acquaintance living at Hebron, one hundred miles south of Baraboo, he proceeded thither by stage, and, finding he could secure work there at splitting rails, he hired a man and team to go with him to Baraboo and bring his folks back. They arrived at Hebron just before Christmas, bought forty acres of land on time, and started in to earn a livelihood. He had not only his wife and sister to provide for, but his wife's parents and their family of six members relied upon him for protection and guidance at least if not for actual support. The weather was much of the time unfavorable for work, and the work—chopping and splitting large timber, and clearing land—new and strange to him, so that he not only felt it severely, but the family had little to subsist upon, and found it necessary to eke out an existence by using bran and shorts for food, catching fish, or killing an occasional squirrel.
The hardships and privations they endured during the first year or two of their life in Wisconsin were such as to try their very souls, and Brother Briggs pays a grateful tribute to his wife by recording the fact that she never once murmured. He was young and strong and full of endurance, and able to work almost night and day, and cared nothing for himself, his only concern being for those dependent upon him.
On the 13th of September, 1854, his first child was born—Ephraim, who brought cheer to the hearts of his parents, and as they became more used to their surroundings they felt more reconciled, and indulged in the hope of soon acquiring enough means to take them to the mountains. They bought another forty acres of land on time, and Thomas spent every hour that he could spare, when not working for others, at fencing and improving his own property.
While so engaged, in the fall of 1855, he hurt his knee very severely, when working in the timber, and, thinking it was only a temporary hurt, and not caring to worry his wife about it, he said nothing about it until the pain became so intense he could bear it in silence no longer. A doctor was sent for, and he prescribed for him, but no relief resulted from his treatment. He was told that an abscess was forming on the knee joint, and he could hope for no relief until it would burst. The limb continued to swell four or five weeks until it was larger in circumference than his body, and the pain almost drove him to distraction. His wife was almost worn out in caring for him, and his own prayers seemed of no avail. Most thoroughly and sincerely did he regret and repent of having wandered away from the Saints, where those bearing the Priesthood might have rendered him assistance.
Finally the abscess burst, and the discharge from it saturated the bed and ran down upon the floor. He was so weak and helpless that the only way those surrounding him could tell that he still lived, was by holding a mirror over his face, and watching upon it the effects of his breath. However, he continued to live, and in course of time to show a slight improvement.
In May, 1856, however, he had a relapse, and the doctor was hastily sent for. He attended him for several days and then declared he could do nothing more for him; he could not possibly recover, and he could not last more than a few days.
After the doctor had gone the patient dosed off for a few moments, and when he awoke he saw his wife standing by his bedside with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Rallying his slight remaining strength, he said: "Ann, dry your tears, for I am going to live to go to the mountains, and shall there build a large house."
It was thought at first that he was delirious, and little credence was given to what he said, but later on he repeated the declaration and explained that the mountains and valley had passed before his mind in vision and he had seen the very place where his home was to be, and the spirit bore testimony to him that he would live to realize it. He was not shown what he would have to endure before the vision would be realized, but the assurance had a stimulating effect upon him.
A slight improvement was soon noticeable in the sick man, and by the 30th of June, 1856, he was able to be carried to the home of his father-in-law. His leg was still discharging, and there were nine holes just above the knee; the limb was also crooked, and the cords so rigid that it was feared he would never be able to straighten it again, even if he were permitted to recover.
Under these circumstances, and while his wife was weak and careworn after her long and anxious siege of watching over him day and night, and without proper nourishment or comfortable surroundings, she gave birth July 1, 1856, to Emma her second child, and, to the surprise of all concerned, she and the babe got along wonderfully well; which was a proof to the household that the Lord had not forgotten them.