Andrew Schirner
Andrew Schirner came from Germany in '36, and settled in Indiana. From thence he came to his present place of residence in Swan, in March, '47, and purchased a claim from Michael Keeterman. This claim was mainly in the timber, and the only improvement made upon it was a small cabin, of that temporary construction usually denominated a "claim pen," having neither floor, door nor windows. Mr. S. however, borrowed a saw of his nearest neighbor, Jesse Walker, and soon made an opening for his house, and added such other improvements as were indispensable to a dwelling. He then took possession of it with his wife and give children.
But now came a crisis such as many pioneers have had to pass through, yet all with the degree of safety that should impress upon their minds the fact that there is a Providence that rules even in the temporal affairs of this life, and grants relief just when it is most needed to save the destitute from the worst consequences of their destitution. Mr. Schirner now found his finances reduced to twenty-five cents, and his provisions to meal enough to last a day or two, besides a little coffee. Here, in a wilderness, destitute of means, what but starvation should follow the consumption of their limited supply. And, to add to the poor man's distress, the good wife, feeling, perhaps, more deeply the trying situation, as women are apt to feel it, began to weep and chide her husband for bringing them there to perish. Mr. S. thereupon concluded to try his luck at hunting, though he was not a practiced hunter, and game was not abundant. But fortunately he did not have to go far ere he found and killed a pheasant; then a couple of quails, and, on his return, a squirrel. These, with the meal and coffee, served as a temporary bait; and when they were consumed, went visiting to Jesse Walker's, where they obtained a supply of meal and meat to last till more permanent provisions could be made for their future wants. Mr. Schirner is now in independent circumstances, and refers to his early pioneer hardships in a way that gives them rather a comical than grave aspect; as events we might have wept over at the time, now assume a phase decidedly amusing to us, as we look down upon them from our elevated and independent positions.