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Updated: June 28, 2025
In 1845 the station was left to be supplied, and Rev. Abram Hanson was called to fill the pastorate. Finding it difficult to rent a house, Brother Hanson procured a boarding place for himself and good lady with Mr. Lindsay Ward, where he spent the year and founded an abiding friendship. He was a man of superior pulpit ability and engaging manners.
For the moment her fears had been allayed by the sight of the camp, which she had come to look upon as more or less a myth. Hanson pointed toward the single tent that stood in the center of the enclosure. "There," he said, and preceded her toward it. At the entrance he held the flap aside and motioned her within. Meriem entered and looked about. The tent was empty. She turned toward Hanson.
He listened patiently and with evident satisfaction to the boy's statements, and then took him to the headquarters of the colonel commanding the post; leaving Hanson, who would have been dull indeed if he had not realized by this time that he was in the worst scrape of his life, to the care of the provost marshal.
The two parties agreed to camp together on the knoll, and resolved to proceed to the coast by the route Mr Hanson and his people had followed, thus avoiding the savage warriors who had just been defeated, and who would undoubtedly seek for an opportunity of revenging themselves. An important point, however, had to be settled.
More than that, Julius was brave enough to "take the bull by the horns," and one day he disheartened the overseer by declaring: "I seen something dis day, Marse Hanson, dat done took my breff all plum away; I did so.
Hanson would have got on his nerves if he had nerves. The man, at any rate, was becoming an intolerable nuisance. The colonel marked him down as one of the problems calling for early solution. The secretary had not been gone more than a few seconds before the door opened again and the girl came in. She was tall, pretty in a doll-like way, with an aura of golden hair about her small head.
I had known him in the State of New York, where we were both Exhorters, and, also, both engaged in teaching. Brother Hanson entered the Rock River Conference in 1844, and his first charge was Manitowoc. He had been stationed on the Winnebago Lake Mission at the recent Conference and was doing a good work.
The last words slipped out before Marcy knew it; but Hanson seemed to take them as a matter of course, for he said in reply: "I don't know as I blame you for keeping clost to home for a few days. You couldn't do no other way than you did do, but there's some onreasonable folks about who stick to it that you had oughter run that there gunboat on the ground.
Gallito merely looked at him. "When I think of what life used to be! Lots of work, but just as much excitement. Why, I was awful pretty, Mr. Hanson," a real flush rose on her faded cheek, "and I had lots of admiration, 'deed I did." "You don't need to tell me that," said Hanson. "I guess I got eyes." "And when I married Gallito," she went on, "I was awful happy.
A few men were just planning to leave, and they looked at Dave suspiciously, but made no protest. One, whom Dave recognized as the leader with the snetha-knife, scowled. "The risings are almost due, Bork," he said. Bork nodded. "I know, Malok. I've decided to let Dave Hanson watch. Dave, this is our leader here, Res Malok."
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