THE BERRYS COME WEST

IN far off Ohio Mr. John Berry read an article written by N. B. Brooks in the Farm and Fireside, describing High Prairie in Klickitat County, praising the country, and telling of the wonderful opportunities to get land in this Golden West.

Mr. Berry had seven sons and one married daughter who had two small sons. What a marvelous opportunity for these nine boys the West presented!

Mr. Berry broached the subject to his wife. She refused flatly.

"What was the use," she asked tartly, "to leave Ohio, wheve they were established and doing well, to go galavanting away off to the other side of the world."

She wouldn't go. So that was that.

But Mr. Berry kept thinking of those rolling hills, and the acres of grass and pasture that might be his, and later turned into waving wheat fields.

At last he formed a plan. He suggested to his wife that she go to visit their daughter, Mary, in the town a few miles away. She'd better take the younger children, as he would be very busy. And he was busy, very busy indeed! For when Mrs. Berry returned to her home and family, Father Berry was well on his way to Washington State — and the fabulous farm land.

Mr. Berry bade his oldest son, Tom, to care for his younger brothers, and to look after the stock until the Mother returned. He left instructions for his wife, too. She was to sell whatever the family possessed, and follow him to Washington, bringing their seven boys. This she reluctantly did.

When the daughter found that her parents were moving so far away, she and her husband decided to make the journey too, bringing their two small sons. Mrs. Berry aged father came also.

I fancy that Mrs. Berry's heart was heavy when she was finally set down on High Prairie with her brood. There was hardly a fence in the neighborhood, not a bearing orchard, and the only house they could find to live in was a tiny log cabin, with a dirt fire place.

To make such a fire place, a double crib of small saplings, the proper length was made. The space between the two walls of the crib was filled with mud and allowed to partially dry. When a fire was built in the fire place, it dried the mud into a solid substance almost like brick, and the inside logs were burned away, leaving the fire place and chimney of solid baked clay.

Mrs. Berry's old father, Mr. Schieffler, was 80 years old when he made that arduous trip, and he was terribly fatigued. He grew more and more tired until at last he did not leave his bed at all. In a mouth from the time he had reached the "land of promise," he passed on, where he was tired and homesick no more.

Within a very short time, Mr. Berry had found a fairly level farm where water could be obtained. (Water was scarce on High Prairie, and many settlers hauled their water supply in a barrel, from the nearest source available.) He built a log house, with a "lean to" in which was the kitchen and a long dining room, with a fire place. The house also had an upstairs, where beds for their brood of boys, big and little, were placed.

This fireplace was a huge thing and required an unlimited supply of wood. But wood was free for anyone who would go and get it. As the Berry boys grew older it became their duty to haul the wood from the forest a mile or so away. During severely cold weather they had a five gallon kerosene can cut in two and placed it full of coals in the sled when going for wood, so they could warm them while on the road, as well as to start a small fire to rest beside while working

There were so many of these boys that there was always something doing, and the stories of their boyhood are many.

One day Father Berry was out repairing a fence. As he worked, the old buck sheep which they had raised, tagged along, nibbling grass and looking for adventure. The grandson, Charles Plummer, was out with his grandfather too.

Mr. Berry worked at the fence and finally bent over to drive a staple over the wire. The sheep eyed him. Charlie saw what was going to happen, but loved joke too well to give a warning. Mr. Berry stooped again, and this was entirely too much for sheep nature — even a good sheep. With an exultant "Baa" the buck charged, striking Mr. Berry and sending him sprawling on the ground. The sheep seemed satisfied for he struck only once. Charley roared with laughter.

When the story was told to the family, they treated that animal with respect.

One day when daughter Mary was visiting at home, the women were cooking and working around the kitchen. They needed more wood for the cook stove, but Mary knew the sheep was near the house, and she refused to leave the safety of the kitchen.

Mother Berry scoffed at being afraid. She'd go herself! She was a very small woman wore a number 3 shoe. At this particular time she was dressed in a Mother Hubbard wrapper and tiny carpet slippers. She stalked forth to get the armful of wood. She spoke fondly to the sheep as she passed him, and stooped over to pick up the wood. The sheep was no respector of persons. He struck the rear of that tiny wrapper and stood Mother Berry on her head in the wood pile, her wrapper flapping in the wind, and her little slippers waving to the clear, blue sky.

Of the Berry boys, four obtained farms on High Prairie, thus fulfilling their father's wish for them to have farms in the land he loved so well.

Two of these boys, Tom and Sam, died while the family lived on High Prairie. The five remaining ones scattered, some of them becoming farmers in other localities. Carl's son became a chemist for a large manufacturing plant in Michigan. As this is written, only Al, the youngest of the brothers, is living. He and his family live on a farm at Ellensburg, Washington.