Besides the suffering caused by fever, there was danger of Indian attacks and the ever-present dread of the wolves and bears which prowled about the settlement, so that no one dared go out at night unarmed, and no door was left without a loaded musket to guard it. But in spite of the dangers of these early years, the settlers for the most part led a busy, happy life. The women especially had their hands full--keeping their houses clean and neat; doing the cooking and baking; spinning, weaving, cutting out, and sewing the clothes for their families (usually large) and knitting their stockings. Then there were the sick to be visited and nursed, and the neighbors to be helped with their quilting. When a new settler arrived, all the men would pitch in and help in the "cabin raising," finishing the work in short order. They often ended up with a jolly dance, though the music was sometimes nothing more than the whistling of the dancers. For the first ten years Cleveland was only a hamlet of a few dozen people. Still it continued to exist, and in 1815 was incorporated as a village. Another year saw the first bank started, and before long its first newspaper was printed. This paper was supposed to be a weekly, but often appeared only every ten, twelve, or fifteen days, at the convenience of the editor. Already, in supplying her own needs, Cleveland was laying the foundation for some of her future industries. In fact, soon after the settlement was founded, Nathaniel Doan built a blacksmith shop on what is now Superior Avenue. Though the shop was only a rude affair built of logs, it deserves the name of Cleveland's first manufacturing plant. Here Nathaniel Doan not only shod the few horses which needed his services but made tools as well. A gristmill and sawmill came next, and then began the building of small schooners. In the early years of the nineteenth century there was practically no way of communicating with the settlements on the Ohio River. And except for an occasional party of French and Indians, there was no means of hearing from Detroit. In 1818, however, regular stage routes began to be opened. One line went to Columbus, one to Norwalk, and one to Painesville. This last route advertised that its stage would leave Cleveland at two on Friday afternoon and would reach Painesville on Saturday morning at eight--a journey which to-day can easily be made by automobile in a little more than an hour. Turnpikes soon displaced these rough stage routes, and over them great six-horse wagons drew freight into Cleveland. Though all these things helped Cleveland, it was still nothing more than a village--and so primitive a village that when two hundred dollars was voted for improvements, one of the old citizens asked, "What on earth can the trustees find in this village to spend two hundred dollars on?" [Illustration: CLEVELAND AND HER NEIGHBORS]