Head on Fire

Head on Fire

History of Elam Hollingsworth and Martha Mae Keetch

Austin Earl’s father’s parents

Written by Blanche Merrill circa 1990

Retyped by Theresa H. Corry 16 June 2008

Head on Fire

For over 113 years, four generations of Hollingsworths have plowed, planted, and harvested a variety of crops on their farmland in Idaho. The farm, owned and managed by a member of the family, has been in production every year since it was homestead in 1877.

This record qualified them to be honored as having an Idaho Century Farm. In a special meeting and celebration held at Franklin, a small community on the border of Utah and Idaho, June 26, 1990, Governor Cecil D. Andrus presented them with a plaque in recognition of their accomplishments.

A group of pioneers settled Franklin in 1860 and this was the first permanent settlement in Idaho. This was 30 years before Idaho received her Statehood.

This 113 years of living on one plot of ground represents a lot of hard work, plowing, planting, harvesting. It also represents love, happiness, worries, pain, disappointments, births, deaths, tears, and laughter of four generations of men, women, and children. It all started with just one man and his dream.

This man, my grandfather, Elam Hollingsworth, wanted to leave his home in Quaker Point, Indiana, and follow the relatives and neighbors who had already left their home to go to Idaho, Utah, Oregon, or California. The urge and dream to go was like a fire that threatened to consume him.

One day at the cross-road store in their small community, he met a man named Wilcox who said he was on his way to Idaho where he had been promised a job helping build a railroad. The job was at Battle Creek and they needed men who weren’t afraid of work. He didn’t know how much they paid, but he knew it would be top pay.

Talking with Wilcox was all Elam needed to make a final decision to go west as soon as possible. In the fall of 1876, he and his wife, Martha May, traveled to Lincoln, then to Omaha, Nebraska, and boarded a train to Montpelier, Bear Lake, Idaho. Elam had relatives in the Bear Lake area and he planned on working for them until spring.

Anxious to get to Battle Creek and the job, Elam walked over the mountains on snow shoes early in the spring of 1877. He was advised, by his relatives, to follow Bear River where he would eventually find the men working at Battle Creek. With no mishaps, he arrived at this destination and was given work immediately. The first person he saw was Wilcox and that was a happy reunion.

Battle Creek was so named because of a terrible massacre that had taken place in the area between the Indians and Whites. A monument has since been erected on that site and has been designated as a National Historic Landmark. The story of the battle is written on the monument and other markers in that area. It says, “Very few Indians survived the attack here when P.E. Conners and a group of soldiers from Fort Douglas, Utah, trapped and destroyed a band of Northwest Shoshoni. Trouble between the Whites and Indians as they traveled along this route led Conners to set out on a cold winter campaign. More than 400 Shoshoni occupied a winter camp that offered ideal protection in the canyon. They suffered a military disaster unmatched in western history when Conners force struck at day break on January 29, 1863. The wounded and frozen soldiers were taken to Franklin where the women in that small community cared for them until they were able to travel to Fort Douglas. Two Indian women and their three children were given homes with families in Franklin.”

Idaho history books also state that the Battle Creek site was used by Idaho Territorial’s narrow gauge railroad and was the location for the first river town, toll bridge, and ferry. At this time, Battle Creek had a round house, two saloons, two stores, a hotel, and an amusement hall. A few of the men had built homes in this area.

Elam did not want to build a house in the river bottoms, so he started looking around for a place on higher ground that he felt would suit his needs better. The men had all been talking about the homestead act in every gathering. Elam was anxious to take advantage of this act of congress, so he started looking around for the ideal place for a farm. About six miles to the east of Battle Creek and seven miles north of Franklin, on a plateau, he found exactly what he had been looking for. He immediately applied for 160 acres of this land. At that time, the plateau was called The Meadows, but later was changed to Preston as families started moving in that area.

Hollingsworth, after digging a well, traded 80 acres of his land for a wagon, a team of horses and harness, and a hand plow. He took off for Bear Lake to get his wife, Martha May. Ten days later, he returned with a used cook stove, some second-hand furniture, a cow, a pig, some chickens, garden seeds, and enough wheat to plant ten acres of his land. In the journal he kept, we found this comment, “It is getting late in the season, so I will have to work long hours to get the land cleared and prepared for planting. It is a back-breaking job to walk behind the plow all day, but I’m getting it done! The soil is rich, and I’m pleased with my choice of land.”

Elam and Martha lived in a tent until they could get a house built. The house had to wait until the garden and grain had been planted. They realized some kind of a house would have to be built before winter set in.

Wild rabbits ate the green shoots of the garden as soon as they came through the soil. Elam and Martha went to the river and cut a wagon load of green willows and made a tightly woven fence around the garden spot. No rabbit could get under, through, or over the fence, and they were elated. Their elation was short lived, however, when a few days later a horde of grasshoppers moved in and mowed the tender plants that had been salvaged from the rabbits. Elam and Martha planted another garden.

One hot afternoon when Elam and Martha were building a shelter for the horses, a pig pen, and a roosting place for the chickens, they saw a large Indian sitting on his horse at a distance watching them. The only reason Martha had not wanted to make a trip west was her fear of Indians. She was so frightened, she was actually sick.

“Elam,” she whispered nervously and close to tears, “let’s get out of here right now.”

“Just act like you don’t even know he is there.” Elam whispered back. “He doesn’t mean to harm us.” Elam went on with his work. Martha watched the Indian and the Indian watched them. For the next three days, the Indian, riding the same Appaloosa horse, came to see them work. They noticed, however, that he rode a little closer to them each day. On the fourth day, Elam raised his hand in a greeting when he saw the Indian in his usual place, on the same horse, and watching them work. To their surprise the Indian responded. Leaving the horse by a bush, he walked over to the Hollingsworths. He seemed fascinated with Elam’s mop of fiery red hair. He timidly touched Elam’s head then laughed and said, “Ugh, head on fire!” Then pointing to himself he stated, “Me – Lone Woolf.” The Indian was curious and watched with great interest as they worked. He nodded his head as if he approved of what they were doing. After an hour, he got on his horse and rode off.

Martha’s legs were so shaky she sat on the sawhorse and cried. “We will never survive the night. He wants your hair. We will both be killed and scalped before morning. Oh, Elam, why did we ever leave home?”

“Martha, Martha,” Elam calmly said, “if he had wanted to kill us, he would have done it days ago, and we would never have seen him. He wants to be friends, and I think he is lonesome.”

Several days later when Martha came out of the shed where she had been gathering eggs, she almost ran into Lone Woolf. He looked into the basket to see what she had, took two eggs out, and handed them to her. Then, taking both the basket and remaining eggs, he got on his horse and rode off without a word.

Early the next morning, they found Lone Woolf waiting for them when they got up. He headed straight for Martha when he saw them and held out the egg basket full of the largest, wild, blue berries they had ever seen. He smiled and acted so happy – almost childlike in his eagerness to please her. All summer he came by as they were building their house and helped Elam with the heavy logs.

Martha was happy to be in her house where she could cook and bake on the stove they had brought back from Montpelier. As she was taking loaves of bread from the oven, she was startled to see Lone Woolf standing in the doorway watching her. He could appear and disappear without a sound, and she never knew where he would be. She was beginning to get over her fear of him, but was startled, nevertheless, when he suddenly appeared. He sniffed the air and made a little sound as if the aroma of the bread smelled so delicious it was beyond words. Stepping to the table, he took a dish towel, wrapped two loaves of bread in it and walked out. As he went through the door he said, “Where Head on Fire?”

Martha mutely pointed to the grain field and Lone Woolf headed that way taking the bread with him. Martha decided she never would get used to his ways!

All through the summer months, the weather cooperated with the Hollingsworths. When they needed rain, it came. When they worried about an early frost, it didn’t come. They had a late fall and all the garden produce and their field of wheat matured. Not only did they have all the vegetables they needed during the summer, but they were able to store the food that would keep over in a root cellar.

Just before Thanksgiving, Elam saw the Appaloosa and its rider coming down the road. Lone Woolf had two wild turkeys that he had killed, tied with a thong, and slung over the horse’s neck. When he reached them, he got off his horse, examined both birds carefully, picked the larger bird with the prettiest feathers, marched proudly over to Martha, and presented it to her. Almost before she could thank him, he got on his horse and went the direction he had come. They never knew where he went when he left them. He had proved to be a good friend, but would they ever understand him?

Elam was anxious to go to the canyon for one more load of firewood before winter set in. It was bad timing because he was caught in an Idaho blizzard just a few miles from home. He made camp and prepared to wait out the storm. All night the storm raged and he was soon wet through with his clothes frozen to his body. It was afternoon the following day when the storm abated. Elam was burning with a fever and too sick to even know the storm was over.

Lone Woolf, on his way to see if the Hollingsworth were alright, found Elam and, at first, thought he was dead. Martha had fought her way through the drifts to take care of the animals and was on her way back to the house when she saw their horses fighting to get the wagon through the snowdrifts to get home. Her relief was short lived when she noticed the Appaloosa tied to the wagon and Lone Woolf driving the horses. Elam was hurt she thought! What had happened?

It was a start of a sickness that almost cost Elam his life. For several nights he burned with a high fever. Martha felt sure, from Elam’s difficult breathing, that he had pneumonia and the fight was on. Lone Woolf watched everything that Martha did as she prepared the mustard plasters and the herbal tea. She kept the tea kettle full of water and boiling for the moisture to help with Elam’s breathing. Elam was delirious and thrashed around so much that it was impossible for Martha to handle him. She was grateful for Lone Woolf’s strength and help. She kept thinking, “What would I do without Lone Woolf?”

On the fourth night, Lone Woolf said, “You rest – Lone Woolf watch.”

Martha did not intend to sleep – she would just rest a little while. When she awakened, there were gray streaks in the east. A blanket had been placed over her, the house was warm, steam billowed from the tea kettle, and Lone Woolf was standing by Elam’s bed smiling. “Cool now,” he said.

Elam looked pale and weak, but he said, “Yes, I’ll be alright now.”

“Need meat – make soup – need to get strong,” Lone Woolf was already putting on heavy clothes to go out of the house.

It was getting dusk when Lone Woolf returned. They had worried about him all afternoon. He had a deer slung over the rump of the horse that he carried into the lean-to at the back of the house. Lone Woolf stayed a few more days. Then he seemed to be nervous about something. One morning he said, “Go,” and abruptly left.

For several days Elam and Martha discussed his sickness and the dangers of being alone. What would they have done without Lone Woolf? He proved to be a true friend, and they doubted that they would have survived their first winter without him. Martha said, “I feel guilty when I think of the fear I had of an Indian. I didn’t think I would ever be thankful to an Indian or feel that I could trust him or want to associate with one.”

“The color of the skin isn’t the determining factor of good or bad,” Elam said. “Whether a man is red, yellow, brown, black, or white, there are good as well as bad among them. We don’t understand Lone Woolf – or any other Indian – completely, but we cannot judge a man’s intelligence if we take him out of his own environment or natural surroundings. I feel that Lone Woolf is an intelligent man and a good one.”

In January, another blizzard hit the plateau and continued for several days. They had planned to get help when the baby was born, but Martha went into labor the day the storm came. Martha gave instructions and Elam delivered their first child. Lone Woolf had not returned since Elam’s sickness. They were truly concerned about his absence. Had he met with an accident? Had he been caught in a blizzard? Was he married? Where DID he go each time after he left them?

Martha had hoped and prayed that he would come back to see them. She wanted to properly thank him for all his help. She wanted to tell him how much she appreciated him as a friend. She especially wanted him to see the baby.

In March, Elam thought he saw a horse coming from the west, but he wasn’t quite sure because it was so far away. That dark object looked like a horse – or was it a deer? Elam kept watching – it was a horse – he grabbed his hat from the peg on the wall and started out the door. “I think it’s Lone Woolf,” he said as he went out the door. Martha lifted the baby from the cradle and was close on the heels of Elam.

They didn’t even wait for Lone Woolf to get to them but ran along the path to meet him. The Hollingsworths had so many questions to ask Lone Woolf and so much to tell him. After a warm and sincere greeting, they all started talking at once. It was just a babel of voices, nothing making much sense. Martha unwrapped the baby and held him for Lone Woolf to see. Lone Woolf’s eyes were tender as he looked at the tiny baby. He touched one little hand carefully, then smiled, clapped his hands, and laughed gleefully. A look of pure joy and delight passed over his face as he said, “Ugh, more Heads on Fire.”