Mr. Sadorus was born in the county of Bedford, Penn., in the year 1783, and lived there until he was fifteen years of age, when he removed with his parents to Summerset county, Penn. His early life being spent in farming, and the country being broken and hilly, the soil poor and hard to cultivate, had, no doubt, much to do in preparing the future pioneer of our county for the hardships that awaited him. From that place he went to Canada, and then back to Summerset county, Penn. After this he visited New Orleans, and remained there some little time; returning to Pennsylvania by way of the sea, he settled in Crawford county. Soon after arriving at the latter place, he formed the acquaintance of, and married a young lady by the name of Mary Titus, at the place where Titusville now stands, being so named from the family of Mrs. Sadorus. From this place Mr. Sadorus went to Cincinnati, Ohio, thence to Rush county, Indiana, near Flat Rock; remaining there until the spring of 1824, when he immigrated to our county, as already stated.

The next settler in the county, one William Marcus, located at, or near, Sadorus Grove, 1824, but moved away the same year. Permanent settlements were very few, until after the Black Hawk war, in 1832, when all apprehensions of trouble with the Indians being removed with the removal of the Indians from the State, population flowed in rapidly, and settlements along the streams and by the timber tracts, became, to use the expression of one of the early citizens, "very numerous." It is related of Mr. Sadorus, that learning of a new comer who had pitched his tent about eighteen miles below him, on the Kaskaskia river, he took his boys and went out to call upon his neighbor, and upon meeting him, facetiously inquired, why it was that he had so insolently crowded himself into his (Sadorus') door-yard without asking permission.

DISCOMFORTS.

We can in no better way illustrate the life of the early residents of this county, than by relating an instance in the life of one of them.

"As late as the year 1833," says Mr. Sadorus, "there were no grist mills within the county, save one, and perhaps two, small ones driven by horse power; and nearly all the work of this kind was taken a distance of fifty or sixty miles, to the Vermillion or Wabash river, in Indiana. On the twentieth day of December, 1830, I started with a team of four yoke of oxen, a large Virginia wagon (covered) loaded with wheat and buckw heat, to go to mill, near the State line, a distance of about fifty-five miles. The weather had been mild and pleasant, thawing a little each day, until the night of the fourth day out, when it became intensely cold. The next day, the fifth from home, I arrived at the mill. Before reaching the mill, however, it was necessary to go down the bluff to the river. The road down the bluff had been cut through the steepest portion, leaving an embankment upon either side. The road through this cut had been paved with logs, placed crosswise the road; but when I arrived at the top, the whole length of the road through the hill was one mass of smooth ice. This was the only way to the mill, which was now in sight. It was evident that the oxen could not stand upon that glassy surface, to say nothing of holding back the load. As it was the only way, I was compelled to make the venture. The result was as I had anticipated the oxen slipped, the wagon swung around to one side, and in one minute, oxen, wagon, and wheat, lay in complete confusion in the ditch near the bottom of the hill-the quickest descent on record. Fortunately, there were no very serious breakages, and with assistance from the mill, I was soon relieved from the unpleasant situation. That night the weather moderated, and the day after I commenced the return.

"Before night I was compelled to cross a small stream, which had been swollen by melted snow, and was frozen over. The oxen, remembering the experience of the hill, would not step upon the ice. Drawing the wagon as near the ice as I could, I detached the oxen and took them across at a point below, where there was an open place, but where it would not have been safe to have driven the wagon. Then taking my chains, I managed,

Breast Pins and Ear Drops.

after much difficulty, to obtain length enough so that I could attach a lever, and, using a tree for a fulcrum, slowly worked the loaded wagon across to where the oxen could again be of service. The next morning I was joined by a man with his family, who were moving to Macon county, and who had been waiting for me to come along, as he had been told I was at the mill. The last night had been passed at a house, but we now started upon a stretch of country where no houses could be seen, nor other signs of civilization, save the roads or trails across the prairies.

"The weather now became intensely cold, and the day's jou rney was performed with great difficulty and suffering on the part of ourselves and the animals. At night we stopped at Hickory Grove, and after drawing logs together, we built a rousing fire, and placing the wagons so as to protect us from the winds, we passed the night in comparative comfort. With venison and pork, and a delicious cup of coffee, prepared by the wife of the mover, with appetites to match, we partook of our supper with a relish seldom excelled. The next morning was bitter cold, and appeared to be increasing in severity. I feared to start out, and proposed staying where we were until the weather moderated. My traveling companion objected to this, saying that his wife and children would not be able to endure so much exposure, and desired to press on as fast as possible. The woman and children were put into the covered wagon, wrapped in the bedding, and the start made. Our course lay across the prairie, where the wind seemed to sweep with resistless force, driving through every protection that could be interposed against it. The wind increased in violence, and the cold in intensity; and to prevent freezing as we journeyed along, was the only problem we attempted to solve. It was late at night when we drew into Lynn Grove. The woman and children had been in bed all day, jostling over the frozen ground; nothing had been eaten by man or beast. We soon had logs together for a fire; but the fire-that was the question. There were no matches in those days, and our only hope was

with the flint and steel. We had with us a small piece of dry, decayed wood, or "punk," as it is called; but so cold and benumbed were we, that it was impossible to throw a spark upon it, or even to strike the spark. Our efforts for this purpose were long and unavailing; it seemed that we must freeze, for without a fire we could not hope to endure until morning, and to go farther that night would but hasten the calamity. In the desperation of the moment, after having stamped and beaten my hands and feet, I took the flint and made one more effort; this time, O, joy! the flint, true to the purpose, sent a tiny spark upon the dry tinder. Gathering over and protecting the feeble life, we fed it with dry blades of grass, carefully and tenderly, until its strength gave evidence of speedy warmth and comfort. At this point, the man who was with me thinking he could induce it to burn faster, held his powder horn over the fire to drop a few grains upon it. The result was, that the powder horn was blown to pieces, himself burned and singed, and the fire scattered. The parties in the wagon, who, during the day had endured their sufferings with heroic fortitude, yielded to this new calamity, and wept in the hopelessness of their despair. Fortunately we were able to gather enough of the fragments still on fire to start another, and with great care succeeded; and although the cold. was such that we suffered much through the night, still we were in no danger of freezin 5, for which we were deeply grateful. The next day I reached my home, and the stranger went his way."

This was but one incident among the many; and if we were to strip this one of all the suffering that attended it, the thought, to-day, of making a journey occupying eight days in performing it, for the purpose of having a few bushels of wheat ground, were a task that would appall the most stout hearted of our farmers; and when we reflect, that the comforts, lux. uries and privileges of to-day are but the outgrowth of, and are based upon the sacrificing endurance of the pioneers, we will fully accord to them all the honor that true heroism may demand.

At this period, and as late as 1850, the settlements were confined to the streams, and timber belts bordering upon them; the prairies were left alone in their glory. It is said that one Sample built the first mill in the county. It was driven by horse-power, and was located north of Big Grove. Just when it was constructed is not known, but it was as early as 1828 or 1829.

Henry Sadorus built the next mill upon his place at Sadorus Grove, which was also driven by horse power. This power was an upright piece of timber, to which arms were attached near the bottom, with pins in the end of each arm, over which a rope was thrown from one arm to another around the entire circle, and the rope at one point passing over a pulley which drove the burs; the horse being inside of this. The stones were boulders taken from the prairie. This mill was put in operation in 1830 or 1831. The next season the power was improved, or rather a genuine horse-power was placed there. Mr. Sadorus found, however, that milling and farming did not work well together. Parties coming to mill required the services of Mr. Sadorus or some of his boys, which materially interfered with his farming operations, the small returns in toll being no compensation therefor. One day he was called to attend his mill at a time he could not well afford to be. absent from his work on the farm, and in consequence was not in the best of humor. As the work of grinding was progressing, Mr. S. called to the driver (there being four yoke of oxen on the power), “drive up! drive up! we must hurry this job through." The driver (a son of Mr. S.) cracked his whip and applied the gad with vigor. The oxen bent to the yoke, and soon an ominous sound of rattling machinery was heard—th-rr-r-r up! "Whoo! hold on! stop!" shouted one. "Drive on!

drive on!" shouted Mr. S.; "I've got ye, now; drive on!" Drive on he did, and soon the mill was one inglorious smash. "No more grinding at this mill," said Mr. S. And that was the last of it.

A water mill was soon after erected, near where Sidney now