Lost in the 1852 Snowstorm
Dr. Samuel Ballard, pioneer Audubon County physician, is reported to have told, upon occasions, a story of the time he and another county pioneer, "Uncle" Johnny Jenkins, were lost in a snowstorm.
As approximately as the story
is recorded, here are the details:
Hunting for Game at Bluegrass Grove
In December, 1852, the United States surveyors were camped at Bluegrass Grove, engaged in subdividing township 80, range 35. (now LeRoy Township.)
(Ballard was a member of the surveying crew).
John S. Jenkins, and his son, John, came up from Big Grove, to our camp for a hunt with me (Ballard). The game was plentiful. We two started off together westward from camp. During the day a heavy snow storm came on; we got bewildered, lost all idea of direction and wandered around lost into the night completely lost.
At one time we heard strange noise near us, as of many large animals running through the snow, making the peculiar whistling sound of the elk when startled. We supposed we had run into and startled a band of those animals, but it was too dark to see them.
Continuing our tramp later into the night, we entered a brush patch and stopped to rest, being tired out and hungry. Mr. Jenkins was in worse plight than myself and complained that his feet were hurting him.
I suspected that his feet were frozen, which afterwards proved to be the case. We gathered fuel and started a fire. Mr. Jenkins proposed to remove his boots and examine his feet, but I persuaded him not to do so, as he would have difficulty putting them on again. We made a bed of brush and dried grass and he laid down and slept while I watched and tended the fire.
Towards the morning the clouds parted and I got a fair view of the Great Handled Dipper and the North Star, and so fixed the direction in my mind.
When morning came it was still cloudy and the sun was obscured all day. Jenkins awoke very much discouraged, still complaining of his feet, and expressed doubt that we should ever reach home again. I tried to encourage him and pointed out the direction I thought we should travel. He disputed me and said he thought we should travel in the nearly opposite course.
I said "There is north", pointing, as I believed, in that direction. He had no idea that I knew the direction any better than he did, and he replied: "And who in hell, sir, told you that was north? "
I explained to him of my seeing the North Star while he had slept and he cooled down, but apparently not convinced and despondent; said we are lost beyond hope of discovering; that no one would know where to search for us and that if anyone attempted to find us there was hardly a chance of success, and that he believed we must perish.
I urged that we should succeed by following the course I suggested. He admitted that he was in doubt what direction we ought to travel, and finally consented to follow me that day, but did not hope to succeed.
We took up the march towards the east, as it afterwards proved. We came out on what must have been the main divide between the waters of the east and west Nishnabotna rivers, and there Mr. Jenkins rebelled and became more obstinate than before. He insisted that we were traveling the wrong direction and that we should change our course and proceed northwest along the divide. I was confident we were on the right course, but pleaded with him in vain.
We shook hands, parted, and each pursued his chosen course down the ridge, until nearly out of sight of each other, when turning to take a parking look at him, I saw him wave his that. I made a similar response and waited for him to return. When he joined me he said he had forgotten his promise to follow during the day, apologized and promised to make his word good.
We continued again until Mr. Jenkins became more discouraged and complained. I carried his rifle to relieve him and took him by the arm to encourage him to proceed.
Late in the afternoon, in crossing a slough , his feet became entangled in the long wet grass, matted down by the heavy snow, and he fell. I offered to assist him to arise, but he refused, saying it was useless and that we were lost beyond help. He said his feet were used up; that we were without food or fire and must perish and that he might as well stop where he was thence to punish himself by attempting to travel farther.
I stooped down and struck him a smart blow with the back of my hand on his face. The effect was instantaneous. He sprang to his feet like a steel trap and demanded why I had insulted him. I told him it was to show him that he was not so near dead as he imagined, and that I had proved it. He accepted my explanation and we again proceeded.
Upon reaching the top of another ridge I thought the surrounding country and lay of the land looked familiar. I believed we were in the vicinity of our camp and so informed my companion.
I then remembered my dog, a favorite white hound who was at the camp and told Mr. Jenkins that if I could make "Zach" hear my voice, he would come to us. So I began to shout and halloo, long and loud, and kept it up. Soon I heard the hound bay and called the attention of Mr. Jenkins to it, but he was not convinced. He said that we could not be near camp and that I must have heard a wolf howl.
But soon the dog came over the hill in full cry. I saw him with the black spot on his head, coming towards us, and no mistake. He soon reached us, plainly expressing his pleasure at seeing us . A little while later Uncle Ben Hyatt, our cook, came following on the dog's track. When he got near enough I shouted for him to bring some food for us.
Uncle John clasped the dog around the neck and burst into tears and ever afterwards declared that the dog saved our lives.
Dr. Ballard was questioned about the story by Lawyer H. F. Andrews, who had heard it told by both he and Johnny Jenkins.
The only discrepancy Andrews could
find between the two stories was the case of who slapped who.
Each man claimed the honor.
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The article above was taken from a clipping
compiled by Iva Milliman, Exira. The main article came from a
scrapbook in the Exira Courthouse Historical Museum reading room.