The latter part of March (1916) we loaded an immigrant railroad car in Mountain Lake, Minnesota. Peter Franz, Kathrina’s brother, who traveled in another car, sent one horse along. So I had four horses—two three-year-olds and two four-year-olds, two cows, animal feed, a hand plow, harrow and disc, tools, furniture, bedding and dishes. After all were loaded we left in the afternoon and headed for St. Paul. There they noticed the wheels of my box car needed repair. Only my car was taken to a warehouse, where they lifted my car up and put new wheels under. I did not know where I was or whether the others kept going. I stayed in my car all night, but could not sleep.
The next morning as we were driving along, all of a sudden the train stopped. There was water on the side of the railroad, and to my great surprise and relief there was the rest of my group. We all jumped out of our cars and filled our barrels full of water. Then we went on and stopped in town so we could get something to eat. At one stop, C. K. Dick went to a nearby store to buy some stockings, as he was very cold. While he was in the store the train started to go. He dashed back to the tracks and ran to catch the caboose. Then, instead of going into the caboose, he climbed up on top and walked along on the top of the cars while the train was running. He would stop on the top of each car, stomp on the roof and ask who was in the car. Finally he found the car that we were riding in. He lowered himself over the side of the car feet first, and we caught his feet and pulled him into the car. All the while the train was going. He put on his new socks and felt good.
After three days we finally got to Wolf Point. A group went on to Oswego, but I remembered how swampy it was out that way, so I stayed in Wolf Point. Pete Franz and I started to unload. After we had the car cleaned out, we looked for a place to stay. Pete and I quickly built a little shack behind the lumberyard: a 10 x 12 x 8 ft. That’s where we put all our household goods and also the feed, plus a place to sleep.
For me, Kathrina, it was a lonely time, but I was very grateful for Mrs. C. K. Dick and Mrs. Pete Teichroew as well as Mrs. Abe Siemens, who all got on the passenger train later with me and went to Montana together. We arrived the day after our husbands, and were we glad to see them waiting for us. It was also very lonesome staying in the shack in Wolf Point all alone at first as the men went out to the country. I never want to experience that again. It was also the first time I ever saw an Indian in my life, and in those days that was frightening. This whole area was an Indian reservation. All I knew about Indians were the fearful stories I had read in school. When Indians peeked through the cracks between the boards on the side of the shack, I almost went back to Minnesota, but instead I trusted in the Lord.
Peter Franz and I, Dietrich, loaded a big load of lumber on the wagon the next morning, April 1, and got ready to start moving out into the country. All we had for transportation was the large lumber wagon. A lot of people had buggies already, but we weren’t so fortunate yet. But we had springs under our wagon and springs on the seat, so that was pretty good. We had to take food along for several days. We left Kathrina all alone in the little shack and the two cows tied outside. She had to do the milking, water and feed the cows while we were gone. That night she had not slept at all.
All 14 of the homesteaders’ wagons were lined up in one big circle at the lumberyard. Each had two horses in front and two in back. My horses started rearing up, and I shouted, “Somebody get started.” No one moved. One of my horses looked bucky. They had never pulled loads of lumber before. They had just been broken to drive. I told Pete I couldn’t hold them any longer, so I said, “Let’s go,!” We started, and the whole gang followed us across the railroad tracks and out northwest to Wolf Creek. The Lustre farm is much farther north, but on the south fork of Wolf Creek that runs all the way to the Missouri River at Wolf Point. Lustre is about 780 feet higher in elevation than Wolf Point.
Pete and I continually looked for stakes, and if we found one would stop and check our map to see if we were going the right direction. When we came to Wolf Creek we saw gravel at the bottom and the ice was breaking up on the top. We drove to the edge of the water and the front team would not go on in. I took a rawhide whip, sat on the back of the tongue and whipped the front horses into the water. All of a sudden they splashed in. My horse got his foot into the evener because he was so excited. The front horses raised up and fell down. I was knee deep in icy water, although it was about four feet deep further on. I got my horse back on his feet and whipped them through till we were out. All the rest followed nicely. We had high-wheeled wagons, so the wood did not get too wet. Back up on the wagon I took off my socks, wrung them out and put everything back on wet, wrapping myself in my fur coat and blankets, since it was cold.
Later in the day we stopped in a big circle and unhooked the horses to let them graze while we ate dinner. After a little rest I said, “Let’s go home.” Others felt their horses couldn’t go as fast and wanted to linger. Alex Pankratz was telling stories and jokes, and the others were having a good time. I said I was going on as far as I could. They wished me luck. I was sure I was going northwest and would find my way okay.
Just west of John Baker’s present farm I said, “This is it. It’s too dark to go on. I can’t see the stakes.” We unhooked the horses to eat and drink and covered them with blankets, since they were sweaty. Later we tied them to the wagons. In Wolf Point we had heard wild stories about how many rattlesnakes were in the area, so we put on our heavy fur coats, crawled on top of the lumber and lay down, but could not sleep. In all my days in Lustre, I never saw a rattlesnake. About 3:30 a.m., as it began to get light, we got ready and went on our way again.
We passed Jake Martens’ present farm, and went on to the area of the Bethel church. I studied the land and said to Pete, “There’s our land.” He said he hoped I was right. He was quite discouraged. We started looking around at the northeast corner of my land. We unhitched the horses to graze in the knee-deep grass while they were hobbled. We looked for our stakes. I went south and found the middle stake, 33-34. They had dug a bit around each stake. The grass was taller than the stakes. Pete found the other one, and I spotted the puddle of water just to the north. We looked for an even spot to unload and build later, and then started our return trip to Wolf Point.
Pete and I met the others coming out where Henry Dahl’s lived. They went on to find their land. Pete Unrau to the north. Farther north was Abe Olfert. To the east was Pete Olfert, west was George Rahn. There was also Abe Pankratz and George Teichroew. About halfway back we crossed an Indian trail, and Pete felt that was the way to Wolf Point. He was very convinced, and I was very convinced it was not right. After a heated discussion, I said that three of the horses were mine and only one was his, so if he wanted to take his horse and go his way he could. Finally he gave in, although he was sure I was wrong and we would get lost. We came to a double crossing we both remembered, and he was relieved that I was right.