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In June, the great day came when this weary group of pioneers arrived at their new home. Not a pretentious home, but new; and the start of a farm in this beautiful country of green meadows, streams, and evergreen tree covered mountains. The house was built of hand-made shakes, having two rooms with space upstairs for sleeping quarters. Water was carried from a nearby creek. The house had to be moved back from the riverbank once, so it wouldn't be washed away. When the Quinault is swollen it eats away its banks and cares nothing for homes, farms, or green trees.

As the years rolled by, five more children were born to the Olsons. Mavie, Teander, Elvin, Grace, and Mildred. Also, one still-born, making eighteen in all. Alfred never moved West, but Mina came a few years after the rest of the family.

For the first few years a variety of food was scarce, but there was plenty of elk meat, pheasants, fish, potatoes, rye bread, and vegetables. The rye bread was made from home-grown rye, flailed with a home-made flail, cleaned, then ground with a hand grist mill. There was an abundance of milk, cream, and home-made butter, too, as well as potatotes and cabbage.



HANSON, WILSON, and HULTEN



Meanwhile, back in Parkersburg, Minnesota, Hothilda Olson had left three sisters - Miss Christine Hanson, Mrs. Ellen Hulten, and Mrs. Hannah Wilson, a widow.

Late in the summer of 1895 Christine and her sister Hannah, with her boy Chester and their niece Selma Hulten, made the long trip into the Quinault and took adjoining claims about a mile and a half below Olson's.

In the fall of 1897, Sven "Swan" Hulten and his wife Ellen arrived. They had been married in Sweden where their eldest son Charles was born. Later, along with other relatives, they had migrated to Minnesota where they farmed and raised sheep. In preparation for life in the wilderness, they had sheared the sheep, carded and spun the wool, and woven six blankets and about forty yards of coarse wollen cloth which they prized.

Charles relates, "Mother also had a trunk, or hope chest, which she brought all the way from Minnesota to Humptulips. There it had to be abandoned because it couldn't be packed on a horse. Bud Loomis fed his horses in it for years.