From Reports of Counties, Etc., Vol. 1 Pages 403-407 Transcribed by Grace Smith Wild Animals of Wayne County Read before the Detroit Pioneer Society, March 23, 1874, by J.S. Tibbits Most of the wild animals common to the State were found in great numbers by the early settlers of this county, and the descendants of Nimrod and Esau found abundant material upon which to exercise their favorite pursuit. The animals mostly to be found here were the deer, bear, wolf, lynx, wild cat, fox, coon, badger, fisher, porcupine, woodchuck, rabbit, mink, and weasel. The skunk and rat did not make their appearance in the rural districts for nearly ten years after the first settlements were made. They were both as great curiosities to me then as the mermaid would be now. My first experience with a skunk was a sad, though I think a profitable one. A neighbor having an open cellar wall ascertained one day that a skunk had taken refuge in the wall, and he offered me ten cents to kill and skin him. Being anxious to gratify my curiosity to see a skunk, and my ambition to earn an honest penny, I readily undertook the job. Ascertaining the locality for the animal, I proceeded with a sharpened stick to dislodge him. Getting down on my knees, I peered into the hole and gave him a sharp punch with my stick. He immediately resorted to his usual mode of defense and discharged a full battery square in my face. I retreated in good order, though in very bad odor, and wisely concluded ever since to let every man skin his own skunks. The birds common in these early days were the eagle, hawk, turkey-buzzard, raven, owl, crane, turkey, partridge, duck, wild goose, and a variety of the smaller birds. The crow, like the skunk and rat, did not make its appearance till a number of years after the first settlements were made. The turkey-buzzard, so common in those early days, is seldom or never seen now. This buzzard resembles the wild turkey more nearly than any other bird, though by no means so large. It is not a bird of prey, but, like the raven, lives on carrion. It is a powerful bird on the wing, and soars to great heights, sailing seemingly for hours without a movement of the wings. The quills are very valuable for writing purposes, and the possession of one was considered a treasure, inasmuch as with careful usage one would last through a school-term of three or four months. The wild turkey was very common, and vast flocks of several hundred were frequently to be met with. The usual mode of hunting them was for two or three persons to proceed cautiously through the woods till they came upon a flock, then suddenly fire at random amongst them, the object being to scatter them in all directions. When thus scattered they will invariably return to the same spot to get together again, the old ones coming first to call their young together. The hunters, hid in some secluded place, with their "turkey calls" ready for use, would wait patiently for the return of the old birds. These turkey-calls consist of the hollow bone of the turkey's wing, and in the mouth of an experienced hunter, can be made to exactly imitate the piping sound of the mother bird when calling her brood together. Soon the maternal notes of the old birds are heard, and the hunters respond with their "calls," luring them on to certain destruction. After the old birds are killed, the young ones fall an easy prey to the unerring aim of the skillful marksman. The flesh of the wild turkey is esteemed a great luxury, and one of the most delicious meals I think I ever ate was made from steak cut from the breast of a young turkey, fried in butter, and partaken after a hard day's hunt, in which a companion and myself killed seven large fine birds. The wild turkey is sometimes caught in pens made of poles, some five or six feet in height and covered over the top to prevent their escape. A covered passage-way is made under the pen large enough for the turkeys to crawl through. Corn or other grain is scattered in the passage-way and inside the pen. The unsuspecting birds, seeing the grain, commence picking it up, and thus, one after another crawl through the hole into the pen. "Once in, forever in," for they never think of putting their heads down to crawl out again. Deer were also very abundant, and scarcely a day passed but more or less of them were seen in and about the clearings. But little skill was required in killing them, the principal qualification being a steady nerve. During the hot days in the summer, when the mosquitoes and gnats were troublesome, the deer would resort to the streams and ponds of water during the night, to get rid of their tormentors. Here they would fall an easy prey to the hunter, who in his canoe with a torch at the bow, would row noiselessly about. The deer, seeing the light, would remain as it were entranced, presenting to the unerring aim of the hunter two small bright globes of light, between which the fatal bullet was sure to be lodged. Another mode of hunting the deer, which frequently occasioned rare sport, was by watching for them on their "runways" and shooting them down as they passed. One or two persons were stationed on the "run-way" while others with the hounds would scour the woods to scare up the deer. Whenever one was started it would invariably make for the "run-way," and the men or boys following in hot pursuit. Rarely, indeed, was it the case that he was successful in running the gauntlet, but usually fell a victim to his ruthless pursuers. A laughable incident occurred at one of these hunts which is too good to be passed by unnoticed. A young man came on from an eastern city to visit his country cousins at the west. Having never seen a deer, and being very anxious to engage in a hunt before his return, it was soon arranged to have one. Proceeding to the forest, the young man was stationed on the "run-way" with strict instructions to shoot the deer when he passed. The boys, with their hounds and guns, commenced scouring the woods. Soon the deep baying of the hounds was heard, denoting that the game had been started. Nearer and nearer came the pursuer and pursued. Suddenly a fine buck made his appearance, with his noble antlers laid back upon his shoulders and his white tail aloft in the air. On he sped past the affrighted youth, who stood with his rifle cocked, his eyes and mouth wide open, the embodiment of wonder and astonishment. Hard upon the heels of the deer came the dogs, and soon the boys, who, seeing their cousin in this ludicrous situation asked in amazement, "Why he did not shoot the buck?" "Buck!" said he, "I haven't seen any buck. I only saw the devil coming down the hill with a rocking-chair on his head and his white handkerchief sticking out behind." Wolves and bears were more numerous than agreeable. They were very destructive to the few flocks of sheep and herds of swine then in the county. They were caught in traps and in deadfalls, and sometimes wolves were inveigled into the folds with the sheep, and captured in that way. A large pen was made of poles, and so constructed that it was narrowed up at the top, leaving an opening only a few feet square. This afforded an easy ingress to the hungry wolf, but an effectual barrier to his escape. He would thus be found in the morning, having done no harm, and looking very "sheepish," indeed. A novel mode of trapping the bear was sometimes adopted which proved successful. A hollow tree was selected into which a hole was cut of a triangular shape, with the acute angle at the lower side. The hole was made some seven or freight feet from the ground, and just large enough for bruin to squeeze his head through. Inside of the tree, some two or three feet below the hole, was suspended a piece of meat. The bear, scenting the food, would climb up the tree, and, in his efforts to get at the meat, would get hung in the acute angle of the hole, from which it was impossible to extricate himself. Occasionally a lynx was seen in the swamps in the western part of the country, but they were extremely shy, and it was rare indeed that one was killed. The porcupine was more common; and they proved very troublesome to the hunters' dogs, which would frequently return from the chase at night with their mouths full of their sharp quills. It is supposed by many that the hedgehog and porcupine are identical, but this is a mistake. The only point of resemblance is in their coat of armor, which consists of long sharp-pointed quills. Whenever these animals are attacked, they double themselves up into a ball, and thus present a formidable defense. Their quills are easily detached, but I think it is a mistaken idea that they have the power of throwing off their quills, as some suppose. The hedgehog is a native of the Old World, is small in size, and carnivorous; whereas the porcupine is about the size of the woodchuck, and lives on roots, vegetables, and wild fruits. The badger and the fisher were occasionally seen, but they were by no means common. Most of these wild animals like the aborigines of the country, have receded before the march of civilization and improvement, and few of them can mow be found within limits of the county.
Memoir of Luther Harvey By Rela Hubbard Read before the Detroit Pioneer Society, January, 1873 The life of the subject of this memoir, though it presents no features of lofty public interest, is worthy the attention of all who love honor and patriotism, and especially of the pioneers of Michigan. His youth — going back far beyond the recollections of any of us — was spent amid the hardships and struggles of the first settlers; in the midst of savage atrocities, and in the volunteer service of his country. His manhood was marked by variety of occupations and fortune, and felt the excitements of the flush times of Michigan. His age has been passed in the honorable employment of a cultivator of the soil, and in that dignified repose, which befits a life of activity prolonged beyond the ordinary limit allotted to man. Luther Harvey was born in 1789, at Burlington, Vermont. When he was four years old his father, Joel, moved to the Genesee Flats — a place called "Big Tree." The family remained there until 1801 or 1802, when they moved to Buffalo, and two years after bought and settled at Eighteen-Mile Creek. Buffalo in 1802 He remembers that Buffalo in 1802 had five or six houses only, some framed, but mostly of hewed logs. One was a store called "The Contractor's," kept by one Tapper who had charge of the government property stored there to be sent up the lakes to the different military posts. For this purpose, a small public vessel sailed once a year, commanded by Capt. Lee, called the Contractor. A British vessel, the Camden, came occasionally to Fort Erie. It once got driven down the rapids, and was compelled to winter there, but was got off the next spring. This vessel was made a prison ship during the war. He remembers her bringing once some French pears from the trees on the Detroit, the only articles of commerce he knows of being brought from that remote post except furs, and he though them the most delicious fruit he ever ate. About 1806, Joel Harvey took a contract under Postmaster-General Granger, to carry the mail from Buffalo to Erie, about one hundred miles, once a week. Joel made the first trip with his son, Luther, who thenceforward carried the mail regularly, summer and winter, for two years. He staid a week in Erie to meet the Southern mail, another week being consumed in going and returning. There was then a house at Fredonia, another at Chautauqua. Cattaraugus and Chautauqua Rivers were not bridged, and at the latter was no ferry. In good weather, he went on horseback, in bad weather on foot, as it was impossible for a horse to ford the streams, or get through the woods and swamps. Young Harvey thinks he never missed a trip. Once, traveling with his horse, he was belated and chased by wolves to Fredonia — then called by its Indian name, Canadoway. The mail was very light, often containing nothing. Supplies Provisions and most necessaries for Buffalo and Erie were then obtained from Canada, chiefly Fort Erie, where was an old settlement. Port was imported into Canada from Ireland, and the Irish pork had a great reputation. Hay was brought over on the ice. Salt came from Onondaga, by way of Oswego and Lake Ontario. It was hauled around the falls to Fort Schlosser, three miles above; thence it was shipped in boats to Erie, and distributed to the country south. These boats were extremely long and narrow, and capable of carrying each 100 barrels of salt. All were painted red. They had sails, but were impelled up Niagara River chiefly by setting poles, manned by eight men. A barrel of whisky — Pittsburgh's best —remained on tap in the stern, with tin cup near, and was the resort of these men, whenever, like Dame Gamp, they felt "so disposed." It was more common than water. Of this practice, Mr. Harvey, being a temperance man, may be allowed to say that he never knew any harm to result from it. Perhaps the exemption may be attributed in part to the constant and severe work which these men endured. At any rate whisky was an article of prime necessity and cheap at that, for while the best was dear at twenty-five cents a gallon, that article of luxury, flour, cost $40 a barrel. The Schooner Lark There was no commerce on the lakes properly so-called, but about this time some private enterprises were started. A small schooner called the Lark was built and owned by Doctor Cyrenus Chapin, uncle of the late Doctor Chapin, of Detroit. He was a man for the times. There were then no harbors on Lake Erie, nor were there anywhere piers or other improvements. The captain of the Lark made several unsuccessful attempts to get into Chautauqua Creek, which was obstructed by reefs. This failure raised the ire of the Doctor, who swore by all that was good he would take the command himself and run her into the river, or run her to the devil. He undertook the feat, balked the devil, and returned in safety. "That First Steamboat Harvey remembers well the first steamboat, "Walk-in-the-Water," built in 1818 at Black Rock. She came to Detroit, returned, and started to come up (end of pages you sent) |