Coquille High School - Laurel Yearbook (Coquille, OR)

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a sense of awe and granduer. All these they beheld in their glory; but alas no home awaited their coming and no friends were there to greet them. Only the beautiful heaven above and the rude earth beneath. But these were fearless people, who had surmounted every obstacle without shrinking; for they were graduated from the hard training school of the plains, and could look upon this vast wilderness as home, a home which they could call their own; but one which by their own efforts must make homelike. So they lost no time in hewing from the forest rude cabins, clearing spaces in the woodland, tilling the fertile soil and planting the grain, to be reaped in the harvest time. These women were the daughters of the women who came in the Mayflower, and like unto them spun and wove, and in any home might have been seen a Pricilla with her wheel and distaff as of old. Day after day they labored, each lending a helping hand to the other. For these colonists were like a large family where mutual friendship reigned. Their cares, toils, sorrows and joys were shared alike by all. How strong in their purpose must these brave pioneers have been to keep ever steadily onward; no thought of turning back in despair when perils and dangers confronted them, with their one purpose in view, to free the west and make new homes. They were resourceful men and women, happy in the thoughts of their labor and the great work which lay before them. As a pioneer writer beautifully expresses their spirt: ‘ With the curve of the gleaming plowshare Turning the stubborn clod; Making the flowers of plenty To grow on the virgin sod; Filling the shadowy forests Where ers’t did the wild beast roam, With the thrilling music of labor, And the pleasant voices of home.” But immigration steadily increased and settlements gradually grew, until all the woods and all the valleys became peopled; gradually the red man was driven back and became less savage and dangerous. A short time ago this land was asleep in its wildness, but already the pioneer days are over. The past few years are crowded with great achievements. ‘‘The rough old cabins are fallen, The wigwams of cedar are gone; And still the march of improvement Like the restless tide moves on.” In a rapid succession of events the continent of wilderness,

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train passed down the dusty path, over the hill into the next valley, where they were lost to the view of the anxious ones watching their departure. Then, it was that loneliness came over the heart of the pioneer and a great realization of his undertaking settled heavily upon him. As darkness approached the tents were pitched for the night within a hollow square of wagons; guards marched back and forth, ever alert, ever ready to give the signal of danger at the possible attack of the Indians. At the break of day the sound of the bugle awakened the travelers from their slumbers and a bustle and hurry ran through the camp; breakfast had to be prepared, wagons packed, the cattle herded together and every thing made ready for the journey. At seven o’clock the signal for starting was given and the great caravan moved on. Slowly they plodded along, now crossing swollen streams, which seemed impassible, again traversing vast prairies, ascending high rugged mountains and crawling down steep rocky slopes. Then perhaps arriving at a clear open space where camp would be made and the cattle allowed to graze over the green meadows. The women would rest from the endless jolting of the wagons while the men made the rounds of inspection and some scouted and planned the route for the next march. The children romped and played about the camp, plucking the abundant wild flowers, little troubled by the anxious thoughts of their elders. Never far from the protection of the camp did they dare to roam however, for constant was the fear of the red man, who, feeling that the white man was trespassing on his domains spared nothing of treachery and deceit in his savage revenge. Thus passed month after month of hardships, toil and pain. Many a night was passed by the fathers and mothers hovering over the sick bed of a child, doing all they could for its comfort and lamenting the scantiness and crudeness of their means for relief. Many a plain was marked by a rude mound where some loved one had been laid to rest; for the weak fell by the wayside and only the strong endured the strain. Yet after these sad scenes the rest of the party took up their burden again and the great train moved on its way. Often the mother weeping over the loss of her child forgot her grief in the new dangers daily thrust upon them. How often the sad face of the parent turned heavenward in pleading for strength to endure these sorrows, pains and dangers and yet of • ten were their voices raised in thankfulness for the safety and blessings which were sure to be theirs in the end. At last the long journey was ended and they rested neath the protecting trees of our great western land. The fertile plains stretched out before them; the grand and gloomy forests everywhere surrounded them; majestic rivers and mountains impressed them with

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which the pioneer first beheld upon his arrival, has been transformed into a land of cultivated fields, factories throbbing with life and power, churches, school houses, great universities, libraries, temples of art and happy homes—a new America. To whom do we owe these wonderful achievements? To none but the brave pioneers who planted the seed of our present prosperity - who gave to the west their best thoughts, their splendid energies, and in fact their very lives. Not only have they given us a land of wealth and promise but have left a still more valuable heritage in the example of their lives and of the spirit in which they won the land for us. What a debt, we, the younger generation, owe to the pioneer for the rich gifts which he has bestowed upon us. How patriotic and proper it is that we should familiarize ourselves with their thoughts, deeds and lives, and pay to those few pioneers who still remain among us the deepest respect and gratitude. An Oregon writer pays them a noble tribute in these lines: As in the glowing harvest time We think of the sower’s toil; So let us talk of the noble deeds Of those who won the soil, And point our children to their lives So simple, yet so pure A noble legacy of ours While memory shall endure. ” But, whereas, we have seen the work of the pioneer begun and taken up by his children, yet. it is not completed. At this present time we see the new day of the future just breaking into the golden light of the dawn. ‘‘Yonder clouds are, yet, but lined with silver, another hour will reveal them, scarlet and yellow and gold. Mountains of heavenly glory banked up against the sky.” So with our western states; now that the days of the ox cart and pioneer are over the fortunes of this great land await the coming of willing hands to make of it a new America based upon the principles established by our fathers. This is still a land of pioneers. As our fathers’ conquered the plains and forests; so ha e we conquests to make in the fields of politics, government and social reforms. The simple life of the pioneer brought problems which required careful and diligent thought and action. And the complex life of the present brings problems still greater and more ponderous. They are our problems and should receive just such careful and diligent thought as the pioneer gave to his. We might even say still greater thought should be given, for they involve the life, the happiness of not