the wrong way, but I followed them, through black-ash swales where the
water was knee-deep, sometimes nearly barefooted.

I always carried a gun, sometimes father's rifle. The deer didn't seem to
be afraid of the cattle; they would stand and look at them as they passed
not seeming to notice me. I would walk carefully, get behind a tree, and
take pains to get a fair shot at one. When I had killed it I bent bushes
and broke them partly off, every few rods, until I knew I could find the
place again, then father and I would go and get the deer.

Driving the cattle home in this way I traveled hundreds of miles. There
was some danger then, in going barefooted as there were some massassauga
all through the woods. As the country got cleared up they disappeared,
and as there are neither rocks, ledges nor logs, under which they can
hide, I have not seen one in many years.

One time the cattle strayed off and went so far I could not find them. I
looked for them until nearly dark but had to return without them. I told
father where I had been and that I could not hear the bell. The next
morning father and I started to see if we could find them. We looked two
or three days but could not find or hear anything of them. We began to
think they were lost in the wilderness. However, we concluded to look one
more day, so we started and went four or five miles southeast until we
struck the Reed creek. (Always known as the Reed creek by us for the
reason, a man by the name of Reed came with his family from the State of
New York, built him a log house and lived there one summer. His family
got sick, he became discouraged, and in the fall moved back to the State
of New York. The place where he lived, the one summer, was about two
miles south of our house and this creek is really the middle branch of
the Ecorse).