,^^' .0°.. ^^ <^. r ■% ' '2^ ^\' 'bo" * 8 1 \ '^ 4^ '^.i> c " ^ -f^ 'O- ,.0' v' „^ % "^■^V '•av.*'-^" s"^ ,V V s '^ . '^ ^ -^ *>. * -J N " Mrs. Laura B. Pound Second and Sixth State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the Amer- ican Revolution. 1896-1897, 1901-1902 COLLECTION OF NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES ISSUED BY THE NEBRASKA SOCIETY OF THE DAUGHTERS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION NINETEEN SIXTEEN •D23 THE TORCH PRESS CEDAR RAPIDS IOWA FORETHOUGHT This Book of Nebraska Pioneer Reminiscences is issued by the Daughters of the American Revolution of Nebras- ka, and dedicated to the daring, courageous, and intrepid men and women — the advance guard of our progress — who, carrying the torch of civilization, had a vision of the possibilities which now have become reahties. To those who answered the call of the unknown we owe the duty of preserving the record of their adventures upon the vast prairies of "Nebraska the Mother of States." **In her horizons, limitless and vast Her plains that storm the senses like the sea." Reminiscence, recollection, personal experience — simple, true stories — this is the foundation of History. Rapidly the pioneer story-tellers are passing beyond recall, and the real story of the beginning of our great commonwealth must be told now. The memories of those pioneers, of their deeds of self- sacrifice and devotion, of their ideals which are our in- heritance, will inculcate patriotism in the children of the future ; for they should realize the courage that subdued the wilderness. And '4est we forget," the heritage of this past is a sacred trust to the Daughters of the Amer- ican Revolution of Nebraska. The invaluable assistance of the Nebraska State His- torical Society, and the members of this Book Committee, Mrs. C. S. Paine and Mrs. D. S. Dalby, is most gratefully acknowledged. LULA COREELL PeRRY (Mrs. Warren Perry) CONTENTS Some First Things in the History of Adams County . 11 By George F. Work Early Experiences in Adams County .... 18 By General Albert V. Cole Frontier Towns 22 By Francis M. Broome Historical Sketch of Box Butte County ... 25 By Ira E. Tash A Broken Axle 27 By Samuel C. Bassett A Pioneer Nebraska Teacher 30 By Mrs. Isabel Eoscoe Experiences of a Pioneer Woman .... 32 By Mrs. Elise G. Everett Recollections of Weeping Water .... 36 By I. N. Hunter Incidents at PlattsmoutH 41 By Ella Pollock Minor First Things in Clay County 43 By Mrs. Charles M. Brown Reminiscences of Custer County .... 46 By Mrs. J. J. Douglas An Experience 50 By Mrs. Harmon Bross Legend op Crow Butte 51 By Dr. Anna Eobinson Cross Life on the Frontier 54 By James Ayres Plum Creek (Lexington) 57 By William M. Bancroft, M. D. Early Recollections 62 By C. Chabot Recollections op the First Settler of Dawson County 64 By Mrs. Daniel Freeman Early Days in Dawson County 67 By Lucy R. Hewitt Pioneer Justice 72 By B. F. Krier A Good Indian 74 By Mrs. Clifford Whitaker CONTENTS County From Missouri to Dawson County By a. J. Porter The Erickson Family . By Mrs. "W. M. Stebbins The Beginnings of Fremont By Sadie Irene Moore A Grasshopper Story By Margaret F. Kelly Early Days in Fremont By Mrs. Theron Nye Pioneer Women of Omaha By Mrs. Charles H. Fisette A Pioneer Family , By Edith Erma Purviance The Badger Family The First White Settler in Fillmore Pioneering in Fillmore County . By John R. McCashland Fillmore County in the Seventies By William Spade Early Days in Nebraska By J. A. Carpenter Reminiscences of Gage County . By Albert L. Green Ranching in Gage and Jefferson Counties By Peter Jansen Eably Recollections of Gage County By Mrs. E. Johnson Biography op Ford Lewis .... By Mrs. (D. S.) H. Virginia Lewis Dalbey A Buffalo Hunt By W. H. Avery A Grasshopper Raid By Edna M. Boyle Allen Early Days in Pawnee County By Daniel B. Cropsey Early Events in Jefferson County . By George Cross Early Days of Fairbury and Jefferson County By George W. Hansen The Earliest Romance of Jefferson County . By George W. Hansen Experiences on the Frontier . . . , By Frank Helvey Looking Backward By George E. Jenkins CONTENTS 5 The Easter Storm of 1873 158 By Charles B. Letton Beginnings op Fajrbury 161 By Joseph B. McDowell Eably Experiences in Nebraska 163 By Elizabeth Porter Seymour Personal Recollections 166 By Mrs. C. F. Steele How THE Sons op George Winslow pound their Fath- er 's Grave 168 Statement ly Mrs. C. F. Steele .... 168 Statement by George W. Hansen .... 169 Early Days in Jepperson County .... 175 By Mrs. M. H. Weeks Location op the Capit.\l at Lincoln .... 176 By John H. Ames An Incident in the History of Lincoln . . . 182 By Ortha C. Bell Lincoln in the Early Seventies 184 By Ortha C. Bell A Pioneer Baby Show 186 By Mrs. Frank I. Einger Marking the Site op the Lewis and Clark Council AT Fort Calhoun 187 By Mrs. Laura B. Pound Early History op Lincoln County .... 190 By Major Lester Walker Grey Eagle, Pawnee Chief 194 By Millard S. Binney Lover's Leap (poem) . 196 By Mrs. A. P. Jarvis Early Indian History 198 By Mrs. Sarah Clapp The Blizzard OP 1888 . .... . . . 203 By Minnie Freeman Penny An Acrostic 204 By Mrs. Ellis Early Days in Nance County 206 By Mrs. Ellen Saunders Walton The Pawnee Chief's Farewell (poem) . . . 208 By Chauncey Livingston Wiltse My Trip West in 1861 . . . . . . . 211 By Sarah Schooley Eandall Stirring Events along the Little Blue . . . 214 By Clarendon E. Adams My Last Buffalo Hunt 219 By J. Sterling Morton CONTENTS SOCLVL As R. How THE Founder of Arbor Day created the most FAMOUS Western Estate ..... By Paul Morton E.\JiLY Reminiscences of Nebraska City — PECTS By Ellen Kinney Ware Some Personal Incidents By W. a. McAllister A Buffalo Hunt By Minnie Freeman Penny Pioneer Life By Mrs. James G. Reeder Early Days in Polk County By Calmar McOune Personal Reminiscences By Mrs. Thyrza Reavis Roy Two Seward County Celebrations By Mrs. S. C. Langworthy Seward County Reminiscences Compiled by Margaret Holmes Chapter D. I Pioneering By Grant Lee Shumway Early Days in St.inton County By Andrew J. Bottorff and Sven Joha'nson X RED E. Roper, Pioneer .... By Ernest E. Correll The Lure of the Prairies By Lucy L. Correll Suffrage in Nebraska .... Statement by Mrs. Gertrude M. McDowell Statement hy Lucy L. Correll An Indian Raid By Ernest E. Correll Reminiscences By Mrs. E. A. Russell Reminiscences of Fort Calhoun By W. H. Allen Reminiscences of Washington County By Mrs. Emily Bottorff Allen Reminiscences of Pioneer Life at Fort Calhoun By Mrs. N. J. Frazier Brooks Reminiscences of De Soto By Oliver Bouvier • • • • . Reminiscences By Thomas M. Carter Fort Calhoun in the Late Fifties By Mrs. E. H. Clark 235 240 242 244 246 248 252 254 253 263 266 268 272 275 275 277 279 281 284 286 288 289 290 293 CONTENTS 7 Some Items prom WASHnsrGTON County . . . 295 By Mrs. May Allen Lazure County-seat op Washington County .... 298 By Frank McNeely The Story op the Town of Fontenelle . . . 299 By Mrs. Eda Mead Thomas Wilkinson and Family 305 NiKUMi 307 By Mrs. Harriett S. MacMurphy The Heroine of the Jules Slade Tragedy . . . 322 By Mrs. Harriett S. MacMurphy The last romantic Buffalo Hunt on the Plains op Nebraska 326 By John Lee Webster Outline History of the Nebraska Society, D. A. R. . 333 By Mrs. Chakles H. Aull ILLUSTRATIONS Mrs. Laura B. Pound Frontispiece Oregon Trail Monument near Leroy, Nebraska . . 18 Oregon Trail Monument on the Nebraska- Wyoming State Line 18 Mrs. Angie F. Newman 22 Dedication of Monument commeimorating the Oregon Trail at Kearney, Nebraska 27 Mrs. Andrew K. Gault 50 Monument marking the Old Trails, Fremont, Ne> bbaska 78 Mrs. Charlotte F. Palmer 90 Mrs. Frances Avery Haggard . . . . . 127 Oregon Trail Monument near Fairbury, Nebraska . 139 Mrs. Elizabeth C. Langworthy 155 Mrs. Charles B. Letton 168 Boulder at Fort Calhoun, commemorating the Coun- cil OF Lewis and Clabk with the Otoe and Missouri Indians 187 Mrs. Oreal S. Ward 203 Oregon Trail Monument on Kansas-Nebraska State Line 240 Mrs. Charles Oliver Norton 252 Oregon Trail Monument near Hebron, Nebraska . 268 Mrs. Warren Perry 305 Mrs. Charles H. Aull 333 Monument marking the initial point of the Cali- fornia Trail, Riverside Park, Omaha . . . 337 California Trail Monument, Bemis Park, Omaha . 337 Memorial Fountain, Antelope Park, Lincoln . . 326 SOME FIRST THINGS IN THE HISTORY OF ADAMS COUNTY By George F. Work Adams county is named for the first time, in an act of the territorial legislature approved February 16, 1867, when the south bank of the Platte river was made its northern boundary. There were no settlers here at that time although several persons who are mentioned later herein had established trapping camps within what are now its boundaries. In 1871 it was declared a county by executive proclamation and its present limits defined as, in short, consisting of government ranges, 9, 10, 11, and 12 west of the sixth principal meridian, and townships 5, 6, 7, and 8, north of the base line, which corresponds with the south line of the state. Mortimer N, Kress, familiarly known to the early settlers as "Wild Bill," Marion Jerome Fonts, also known as "California Joe," and James Bainter had made hunting and trapping camps all the way along the Little Blue river, prior to this time. This stream flows through the south part of the county and has its source just west of its western boundary in Kearney county. James Bainter filed on a tract just across its eastern line in Clay county as his homestead, and so disappears in the history of Adams county. Mortimer N. Kress is stiU living and now has his home in Hastings, a hale, hearty man of seventy-five years and respected by all. Marion J. Fonts, about seventy years of age, still lives on the homestead he selected in that early day and is a respected, prominent man in that locality. Gordon H. Edgerton, now a resident and prominent business man of Hastings, when a young man, in 1866, was engaged in freighting across the plains, over the Oregon trail that entered the county where the Little Blue crosses its eastern boundary and continued in a northwesterly direction, leaving its western line a few miles west and a little north of where Kenesaw now stands, and so is familiar with its early history. There has al- ready been some who have questioned the authenticity of the 11 12 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES story of an Indian massacre having taken place where this trail crosses Thirty-two Mile creek, so named because it was at this point about thirty-two miles east of Fort Kearny. This massacre took place about the year 1867, and Mr. Edgerton says that it was universally believed at the time he was passing back and forth along this trail. He distinctly remembers an old thresh- ing machine that stood at that place for a long time and that was left there by some of the members of the party that were killed. The writer of this sketch who came to the county in 1874, was shown a mound at this place, near the bank of the creek, which he was told was the heaped up mound of the grave where the victims were buried, and the story was not questioned so far as he ever heard until recent years. Certainly those who lived near the locality at that early day did not question it. This massacre took place very near the locality where Captain Fremont encamped, the night of June 25, 1842, as related in the history of his expedition and was about five or six miles south and a little west of Hastings. I well remember the ap- pearance of this trail. It consisted of a number of deeply cut wagon tracks, nearly parallel with each other, but which would converge to one track where the surface was difficult or where there was a crossing to be made over a rough place or stream. The constant tramping of the teams would pulverize the soil and the high winds would blow out the dust, or if on sloping ground, the water from heavy rains would wash it out until the track be- came so deep that a new one would be followed because the axles of the wagons would drag on the ground. It was on this trail a few miles west of what is now the site of Kenesaw, that a lone grave was discovered by the first settlers in the country, and a story is told of how it came to be there. About midway from M^here the trail leaves the Little Blue to the military post at Fort Kearny on the Platte river a man with a vision of many dollars to be made from the people going west to the gold-fields over this trail, dug a well about one hundred feet deep for the purpose of selling water to the travelers and freighters. Some time later he was killed by the Indians and the well was poi- soned by them. A man by the name of Haile camped here a few days later and he and his wife used the water for cooking and drinking. Both were taken sick and the wife died, but he recovered. He took the boards of his wagon box and made her EARLY HISTORY OF ADAMS COUNTY 13 a coffin and buried her near the trail. Some time afterwards he returned and erected a headstone over her grave which was a few years since still standing and perhaps is to this day, the monu- ment of a true man to his love for his wife and to her memory. The first homestead was taken in the county by Francis M. Luey, March 5, 1870, though there were others taken the same day. The facts as I get them direct from Mr. Kress are that he took his team and wagon, and he and three other men went to Beatrice, where the government land office was located, to make their entries. When they arrived at the office, with his charac- teristic generosity he said: ''Boys, step up and take your choice ; any of it is good enough for me. ' ' Luey was the first to make his entry, and he was followed by the other three. Francis M. Luey took the southwest quarter of section twelve ; Mortimer N. Kress selected the northeast quarter of section thirteen; Marion Jerome Fonts, the southeast quarter of eleven ; and the fourth person, John Smith, filed on the southwest quarter of eleven, all in township five north and range eleven west of the sixth principal meridian. Smith relinquished his claim later and never made final proof, so his name does not appear on the records of the county as having made this entry. The others settled and made improvements on their lands. Mortimer N. Kress built a sod house that spring, and later in the summer, a hewed log house, and these were the first buildings in the county. So Kress and Fonts, two old comrades and trappers, settled down together, and are still citizens of the county. Other set- tlers rapidly began to make entry in the neighborhood, and soon there were enough to be called together in the first religious service. The first sermon was preached in Mr. Kress' hewed log house by Rev. J. W. Warwick in the fall of 1871. The first marriage in the county was solemnized in 1872 be- tween Rhoderic Lomas or Loomis amd "Lila" or Eliza Warwick, the ceremony being performed by the bride's father, Rev. J. W. Warwick. Prior to this, however, on October 18, 1871, Eben Wright and Susan Gates, a young couple who had settled in the county, were taken by Mr. Kress in his two-horee farm wagon to Grand Island, where they were married by the probate judge. The first deaths that occurred in the county were of two young men who came into the new settlement to make homes for themselves in 1870, selected their claims and went to work, and 14 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES a few days later were killed in their camp at night. It was believed that a disreputable character who came along with a small herd of horses committed the murder, but no one knew what the motive was. He was arrested and his name given as Jake Haynes, but as no positive proof could be obtained he was cleared at the preliminary examination, and left the country. A story became current a short time afterward that he was hanged in Kansas for stealing a mule. The first murder that occurred in the county that was proven was that of Henry Stutzraan, who was killed by William John McElroy, February 8, 1879, about four miles south of Hastings. He was arrested a few hours afterward, and on his trial was convicted and sent to the penitentiary. The first child bom in the county was bom to Francis M. Luey and wife in the spring of 1871. These parents were the first married couple to settle in this county. The child lived only a short time and was buried near the home, there being no grave- yard yet established. A few years ago the K. C. & 0. R. R. in grading its roadbed through that farm disturbed the grave and uncovered its bones. In the spring and summer of 1870 Mr. Kress broke about fifty acres of prairie on his claim and this constituted the first im- provement of that nature in the county. J. R. Carter and wife settled in this neighborhood about 1870, and the two young men, mentioned above as having been mur- dered, stopped at their house over night, their first visitors. It was a disputed point for a long time whether Mrs. Carter, Mrs. W. S. Moote, or Mrs. Francis M. Luey was the first white woman to settle permanently in the county; but Mr. Kress is positive that the last named was the first and is entitled to that distinc- tion. Mrs. Moote, with her husband, came next and camped on their claim, then both left and made their entries of the land. In the meantime, before the return of the Mootes, Mr. and Mrs. Carter made permanent settlement on their land, so the honors were pretty evenly divided. The first white settler in the county to die a natural death and receive christian burial was "William H. Akers, who had taken a homestead in section 10-5-9. The funeral services were eon- ducted by Rev. J. W. Warwick. In the summer of 1871 a colony of settlers from Michigan EARLY HISTORY OF ADAMS COUNTY 15 settled on land on which the townsite of Juniata was afterward located, and October 1, 1871, the first deed that was placed on record in the county was executed by John and Margaret Stark to Col. Charles F. Morse before P. F. Barr, a notary public at Crete, Nebraska, and was filed for record March 9, 1872, and re- corded on page 1, volume 1, of deed records of Adams county. The grantee was general superintendent of the Burlington & Missouri River Railroad Company which was then approaching the eastern edge of the county, and opened its first office at Hastings in April, 1873, with agent Horace S. Wiggins in charge. Mr. Wiggins is now a well-known public accountant and insurance actuary residing in Lincoln. The land conveyed by this deed and some other tracts for which deeds were soon after executed was in section 12, township 7, range 11, and on which the town of Juniata was platted. The Stark patent was dated June 5, 1872, and signed by U. S. Grant as president. The town plat was filed for record March 9, 1872. The first church organized in the county was by Rev. John F. Clarkson, chaplain of a colony of English Congregationalists who settled near the present location of Hastings in 1871. He preached the first sermon while they were still camped in their covered wagons at a point near the present intersection of Sec- ond street and Burlington avenue, the first Sunday after their arrival. A short time afterward, in a sod house on the claim of John G. Moore, at or near the present site of the Lepin hotel, the church was organized with nine members uniting by letter, and a few Sundays later four more by confession of their faith. This data I have from Peter Fowlie and S. B. Binfield, two of the persons composing the first organization. The first Sunday school organized in the county was organized in a small residence then under construction on lot 3 in block 4 of Moore's addition to Hastings. The frame was up, the roof on, siding and fioor in place, but that was all. Nail kegs and plank formed the seats, and a store box the desk. The building still stands and constitutes the main part of the present resi- dence of my family at 219 North Burlington avenue. It was a union school and was the nucleus of the present Presbyterian and Congregational Sunday schools. I am not able to give the date of its organization but it was probably in the winter of 1872-73. I got this information from Mr. A. L. Wigton, who 16 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES was influential in bringing about the organization and was its first superintendent. The first school in the county was opened about a mile south of Juniata early in 1872, by Miss Emma Leonard, and that fall Miss Lizzie Scott was employed to teach one in Juniata. So rapidly did the county settle that by October 1, 1873, thirty- eight school districts were reported organized. The acting governor, W. H. James, on November 7, 1871, ordered the organization of the county for political and judicial purposes, and fixed the day of the first election to be held, on December 12 following. Twenty-nine votes were cast and the following persons were elected as county officers : Clerk, Russell D. Babcock. Treasurer, John S. Chandler. Sheriff, Isaac W. Stark. Probate Judge, Titus Babcock. Surveyor, George Henderson. Superintendent of Schools, Adna H. Bowen. Coroner, Isaiah Sluyter. Assessor, William M. Camp. County Commissioners : Samuel L. Brass, Edwin M. Allen, and Wellington W. Selleck. The first assessment of personal property produced a tax of $5,500, on an assessed valuation of $20,003, and the total valua- tion of personal and real property amounted to $957,183, mostly on railroad lands of which the Burlington road was found to own 105,423 acres and the Union Pacific, 72,207. Very few of the settlers had at that time made final proof. This assessment was made in the spring of 1872. The first building for county uses was ordered constructed on January 17, 1872, and was 16x20 feet on the ground with an eight-foot story, shingle roof, four windows and one door, matched floor, and ceiled overhead with building paper. The county commissioners were to furnish all material except the door and windows and the contract for the work was let to Joseph Stuhl for $30.00. S. L. Brass was to superintend the construction, and the building was to be ready for occupancy in ten days. The salary of the county clerk was fixed by the board at $300, that of the probate judge at $75 for the year. EARLY HISTORY OF ADAMS COUNTY 17 It is claimed that the law making every section line a county road, in the state of Nebraska, originated with this board in a resolution passed by it, requesting their representatives in the senate and house of the legislature then in session to introduce a bill to that effect and v/ork for its passage. Their work must have been effective for we find that in July following, the Bur- lington railroad company asked damages by reason of loss sus- tained through the act of the legislature taking about eight acres of each section of their land, for these public roads. The first poorhouse was built in the fall of 1872. It was 16x24 feet, one and one-half stories high, and was constructed by Ira G. Dillon for $1,400, and Peter Fowlie was appointed poormaster at a salary of $25 per month. And on November 1 of that year he reported six poor persons as charges on the county, but his administration must have been effective for on December 5, following, he reported none then in his charge. The first agricultural society was organized at Kingston and the first agricultural fair of which there is any record was held October 11 and 12, 1873. The fair grounds were on the south- east corner of the northwest quarter of section 32-5-9 on land owned by G. H. Edgerton, and quite a creditable list of pre- miums were awarded. The first Grand Army post was organized at Hastings under a charter issued May 13, 1878, and T. D. Scofield was elected commander. The first newspaper published in the county was the Adams County Gazette, issued at Juniata by R. D. and C. C. Babcock in January, 1872. This was soon followed by the Hastings Jour- nal published by M. K. Lewis and A. L. Wigton. These were in time consolidated and in January, 1880, the first daily was issued by A. L. and J. W. Wigton and called the Bailyi Gazette- Journal. EARLY EXPERIENCES IN ADAMS COUNTY By General Albert V. Cole I was a young business man in Michigan in 1871, about which time many civil war veterans were moving from Michigan and other states to Kansas and Nebraska, where they could secure free homesteads. I received circulars advertising Juniata. They called it a village but at that time there were only four houses, all occupied by agents of the Burlington railroad who had been employed to preempt a section of land for the purpose of locat- ing a townsite. In October, 1871, I started for Juniata, passing through Chicago at the time of the great fire. With a comrade I crossed the Missouri river at Plattsmouth on a flatboat. The Burlington was ninning mixed trains as far west as School Creek, now Sutton. "We rode to that point, then started to walk to Juniata, arriving at Ham'ard in the evening. Hansard also had four houses placed for the same purpose as those in Juni- ata. Frank M. Davis, who was elected commissioner of public lands and buildings in 1876, lived in one house with his family ; the other three were supposed to be occupied by bacheloi^. We arranged with Mi-. Davis for a bed in an upper room of one of the vacant houses. We were tenderfeet from the East and therefore rather suspicious of the surroundings, there being no lock on the lower door. To avoid being surprised we piled everything we could find against the door. About midnight we were awakened by a terrible noise ; our fortifications had fallen and we heard the tramp of feet below. Some of the preemptors had been out on section 37 for wood and the lower room waa where they kept the horse feed. The next morning we paid our lodging and resumed the jour- ney west. Twelve miles from Han-ard we found four more houses placed by the Burlington. The village was called Inland and was on the east line of Adams county but has since been jnoved east into Clay county. Just before reaching Inland we met a man coming from the west with a load of buffalo meat and at Inland we found C. S. Jaynes, one of the preemptors, sitting 18 Oregon Trail Mon- ument ON Nebraska- Wyoming State Line Erected by the Sons and Daughters of the Ameri- can Kevolution of Ne- braska and Wyoming. Dedicated April 4, 1913. Cost $200 Monument on the Oregon Trail Seven miles south of Hastings. Erected by Niobrara Chapter, Daughters of the American Eevo- lution at a cost of $100 EARLY EXPERIENCES IN ADAMS COUNTY 19 outside his shanty cutting up some of the meat. It was twelve miles farther to Juniata, the railroad grade being our guide. The section where Hastings now stands was on the line but there was no town, not a tree or living thing in sight, just burnt prairie. I did not think when we passed over that black and desolate section that a city like Hastings would be builded there. The buffalo and the antelope had gone in search of greener pas- tures; even the wolf and the coyote were unable to live there at that time. Six miles farther on we arrived at Juniata and the first thing we did was to drink from the well in the center of the section between the four houses. This was the only well in the district and that first drink of water in Adams county was indeed re- freshing. The first man we met was Judson Buswell, a civil war veteran, who had a homestead a mile away and was watering his mule team at the well. Although forty-four years have passed, I shall never forget those mules; one had a crooked leg, but they were the best Mr. Buswell could afford. Now at the age of seventy-three he spends his winters in California and rides in his automobile, but still retains his original homestead. Juniata had in addition to the four houses a small frame building used as a hotel kept by John Jacobson. It was a frail structure, a story and a half, and when the Nebraska wind blew it would shake on its foundation. There was one room upstairs with a bed in each corner. During the night there came up a northwest wind and every bed was on the floor the next morn- ing. Later another hotel was built called the Juniata House. Land seekers poured into Adams county after the Burlington was completed in July, 1872, and there was quite a strife be- tween the Jacobson House and the Juniata House. Finally a runner for the latter hotel advertised it as the only hotel in town with a cook stove. Adams county was organized December 12, 1871. Twenty- nine voters took part in the first election and Juniata was made the county seat. We started out the next morning after our arrival to find a quarter section of land. About a mile north we came to the dugout of Mr. Chandler. He lived in the back end of his house and kept his horses in the front part. Mr. Chandler went with us to locate our claims. We preempted land on section twenty- V 20 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES eight north of range ten west, in what is now Highland town- ship. I turned the first sod in that township and put down the first bored well, which was 117 feet deep and cost $82.70. Our first shanty was 10x12 feet in size, boarded up and down and papered on the inside with tar paper. Our bed was made of soft-pine lumber with slats but no springs. The table was a flat-top trunk. In the spring of 1872 my wife's brother, George Crane, came from Michigan and took 80 acres near me. We began our spring work by breaking the virgin sod. We each bought a yoke of oxen and a Fish Brothers wagon, in Crete, eighty miles away, and then with garden tools and provisions in the wagon we started home, being four days on the way. A few miles west of Fairmont we met the Gaylord brothers, who had been to Grand Island and bought a printing press. They were going to pub- lish a paper in Fairmont. They were stuck in a deep draw of mud, so deeply imbedded that our oxen could not pull their wagon out, so we hitched onto the press and pulled it out on dry land. It was not in very good condition when we left it but the boys printed a very clean paper on it for a number of years. In August Mrs. Cole came out and joined me. I had broken 30 acres and planted corn, harvesting a fair crop which I fed to my oxen and cows. Mrs. Cole made butter, our first churn being a wash bowl in which she stirred the cream with a spoon, but the butter was sweet and we were happy, except that Mrs. Cole was very homesick. She was only nineteen years old and a thousand miles from her people, never before having been separated from her mother. I had never had a home, my par- ents having died when I was very small, and I had been pushed around from pillar to post. Now I had a home of my own and was delighted with the wildness of Nebraska, yet my heart went out to Mrs. Cole. The wind blew more fiercely than now and she made me promise that if our house ever blew down I would take her back to Michigan. That time very nearly came on April 13, 1873. The storm raged three days and nights and the snow flew so it could not be faced. I have experienced colder blizzards but never such a storm as this Easter one. I had built an addition of two rooms on my shanty and it was fortu- nate we had that much room before the storm for it was the means of saving the lives of four friends who were caught with- EARLY EXPERIENCES IN ADAMS COUNTY 21 out shelter. Two of them, a man and wife, were building a house on their claim one-half mile east, the others were a young couple who had been taking a ride on that beautiful Sunday afternoon. The storm came suddenly about four in the after- noon ; not a breath of air was stirring and it became very dark. The storm burst, blaek dirt filled the air, and the house rocked. Mrs. Cole almost prayed that the house would go down so she could go back East. But it weathered the blast ; if it had not I know we would all have perished. The young man's team had to have shelter and my board stable was only large enough for my oxen and cow so we took his horses to the sod house on the girl's claim a mile away. Rain and hail were falling but the snow did not come until we got home or we would not have found our way. There were six grown people and one child to camp in our house three days and only one bed. The three women and the child occupied the bed, the men slept on the floor in another room. Monday morning the snow was drifted around and over the house and had packed in the cellar through a hole where I intended to put in a window some day. To get the potatoes from the cellar for breakfast I had to tunnel through the snow from the trap door in the kitchen. It was impossible to get to the well so we lifted the trap door and melted fresh snow when water was needed. The shack that sheltered my live stock was 125 feet from the house and it took three of us to get to the shack to feed. Num- ber two would keep within hearing of number one and the third man kept in touch with number two until he reached the stable. Wednesday evening we went for the horses in the sod house and found one dead. They had gnawed the wall of the house so that it afterwards fell down. I could tell many other incidents of a homesteader's life, of trials and short rations, of the grasshoppers in 1874-75-76, of hail storms and hot winds; yet all who remained through those days of hardship are driving automobiles instead of oxen and their land is worth, not $2.50 an acre, but $150. V FRONTIER TOWNS By Francis M. Broome With the first rush of settlei*s into northwest Nebraska, pre- ceding the advent of railroads, numerous villages sprang up on the prairies like mushrooms during a night. All gave promise, at least on paper, of becoming great cities, and woe to the citizen unloyal to that sentiment or disloyal to his town. It is sufficient to recount experiences in but one of these villages for customs were similar in all of them, as evidence of the freedom common to early pioneer life. In a central portion of the plains, that gave promise of future settlement, a man named Buchanan came out with a wagon load of boards and several boxes of whiskey and tobacco and in a ^ short space of time had erected a building of not very imposing appearance. Over the door of this building a board was nailed, on which was printed the word "SALOON" and, thus prepared for business, this man claimed the distinction of starting the first town in that section. His first customers were a band of cowboys who proceeded to drink up all of the stock and then to see which one could shoot the largest number of holes through the building. This gave the town quite a boom and new settlers as far away as Valentine began hearing of the new town of Buchanan. Soon after another venturesome settler brought in a general merchandise store and then the rush began, all fearing they might be too late to secure choice locations. The next pub- lic necessity was a newspaper, which soon came, and the town was given the name of Nonpareil. It was regularly platted into streets and alleys, and a town well sunk in the public square. Efforts to organize a civil government met with a frost, every- one preferring to be his own governor. A two-story hotel built of rough native pine boards furnished lodging and meals for the homeless, three saloons furnished drinks for the thirsty twenty-four hours in the day and seven days in the week; two drug stores supplied drugs in case of sickness and booze from necessity for payment of expenses. These with a blacksmith 22 Mrs. Angie F. Newman Second Vice-President General from Nebraska, National Society, Daughters of the American Kevolution. Elected 1898 FRONTIER TOWNS 23 shop and several stores constituted the town for the first year and by reason of continuous boosting it grew to a pretentious size. The second year some of the good citizens, believing it had advanced far enough to warrant the establishment of a church, sent for a Methodist minister. This good soul, believing his mission in life was to drive out sin from the community, set about to do it in the usual manner, but soon bowed to the in- evitable and. recognizing prevailing customs, became popular in the towTi. Boys, seeing him pass the door of saloons, would ^ hail him and in a good-natured manner give him the contents of a jackpot in a poker game until, with these contributions and sums given him from more religious motives, he had accumulated enough to build a small church. After the organization of the county, the place was voted the county-seat, and a courthouse was built. The court room when not in use by the court was used for various public gatherings and frequently for dances. Everybody had plenty of money and spent it with a prodigal hand. The ' ' save-f or-rainy-days " fellows had not yet arrived on the scene. They never do until after higher civilization steps in. Old Dan, the hotel keeper, was considered one of the best wealth distributors in the village. His wife, a little woman of wonderful energy, would do all the work in a most cheerful manner while Dan kept office, collected the money and distrib- uted it to the pleasure of the boys and profit to the saloons, and both husband and wife were happy in knowing that they were among the most popular people of the village. It did no harm and afforded the little lady great satisfaction to tell about her noble French ancestrj' for it raised the family to a much higher dignity than that of the surrounding plebeian stock of English, Irish, and Dutch, and nobody cared so long as everything was cheerful around the place. Cheerfulness is a great asset in any line of business. The lawyer of the village, being a man of great expectations, attempted to lend dignity to the profession, until, finding that board bills are not paid by dignity and be- coming disgusted with the lack of appreciation of legal talent, he proceeded to beat the poker games for an amount sufficient to enable him to leave for some place where legal talent was more highly appreciated. These good old days might have continued had the railroads 24 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES kept out, but railroads follow settlement just as naturally as day follows night. They built into the countrj' and with them came a different order of civilization. Many experiences of a similar character might be told con- cerning other towns in this section, namely. Gordon, where old Hank Ditto, who ran the roadhouse, never turned down a needy pei*son for meals and lodging, but compelled the ones -svith money to pay for them. Then thei*e was Rushville, the supply sta.tion for vast stores of goods for the Indian agency and reservation near by; Hay Springs, the terminal point for settlei*s coming into the then unsettled south eountiy. Chadron was a town of unsurpassed natural beauty in the Pine Ridge country, where Billy Carter, the Dick Turpin of western romance, held forth in all his glorj^ and at whose shrine the sporting fraternity per- formed daily ablutions in the bountiful supply of booze water. Crawford was the nesting place for all crooks that were ever attracted to a countiy by an army post. These affaii"s incident to the pioneer life of northwestern Nebraska are now but reminiscences, supplanted bj' a civiliza- tion inspired by all of the modern and higher ideals of life. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF BOX BUTTE COUNTY By Ira E. Tash Box Butte county, Nebraska, owes its existence to the discov- ery of gold in the Black Hills in 1876. When this important event occurred, the nearest railroad point to the discovery in Deadwood Gulch Avas Sidney, Nebraska, 275 miles to the south. To this place the gold seekers rushed from every point of the compass. Parties were organized to make the overland trip to the new Eldorado with ox teams, mule teams, and by every primitive mode of conveyance. Freighters from Colorado and the great Southwest, whose occupation was threatened by the rapid building of railroads, miners from all the Rocky Mountain regions of the West, and thousands of tenderfeet from the East, all flocked to Sidney as the initial starting point. To this hetero- geneous mass was added the gambler, the bandit, the road agent, the dive keeper, and other undesirable citizens. This flood of humanity made the "Old Sidney Trail" to the Black Hills. Then followed the stage coach, Wells-Fa rgo express, and later the United States mail. The big freighting outfits conveyed mining machineiy, provisions, and other commodities, among which were barrels and barrels of poor whiskey, to the toiling miners in the Hills. Indians infested the trail, murdered the freighters and miners, and ran off their stock, while road agents robbed stages and looted the express company's strong boxes. Bandits murdered returning minei*s and robbed them of their nuggets and gold dust. There was no semblance of law and order. When things got too rank, a few of the worst offendei's were lynched, and the great, seething, hurrying mass of human- ity pressed on urged by its lust for gold. This noted trail traversed what is now Box Butte county from north to south, and there were three important stopping places within the boundaries of the county. These were the Hart ranch at the crossing of Snake creek, Mayfield's, and later the Hughes ranch at the crossing of the Niobrara, and Halfway Hollow, on the high tableland between. The deep ruts worn 25 26 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES by the heavily loaded wagons and other traffic passing over the route are still plainly visible, after the lapse of forty years. This trail was used for a period of about nine years, or until the Northwestern railroad was extended to Deadwood, when it gave way to modern civilization. Traveling over this trail were men of affairs, alert men who had noted the rich grasses and wide ranges that bordered the route, and marked it down as the cattle raiser's and ranchman's future paradise. Then came the great range herds of the Ogal- lalla Cattle Company, Swan Brothers, Bosler Brothers, the Bay State and other large cow outfits, followed by the hard-riding cowboy and the chuck wagon. These gave names to prominent landmarks. A unique elevation in the eastern part of the county they named Box Butte. Butte means hill or elevation less than a mountain. Box because it was roughly square or box- shaped. Hence the surrounding plains were designated in cow- man's parlance "the Box Butte country," and as such it was known far and wide. Later, in 1886 and 1887, a swarm of homeseekers swept in from the East, took up the land, and began to build houses of sod and to break up the virgin soil. The cowman saw that he was doomed, and so rounded up his herds of longhorns and drove on westward into "Wyoming and Montana, These new settlers soon realized that they needed a unit of government to meet the requirements of a more refined civilization. They were drawn together by a common need, and rode over dim trails circulating petitions calling for an organic convention. They met and provided for the formation of a new county, to be known as ''Box Butte" county. This name was officially adopted, and is directly traceable to the discovery of gold in the Black Hills. The lure of gold led the hardy miner and adventurer across its fertile plains, opened the way for the cattleman who named the landmark from which the county takes its name, and the sturdy settler who followed in his wake adopted the name and wrote it in the archives of the state and nation. ., — I :3 ^ z = _^ X < ♦; '■^ "Sc i; r- Sc z ^ 2 Z S "ca ~ ->j •^ ^ n * 3 s c -S -S ^ ^ Zl -^ 7* X ^ X. ^* ;= r tJC ^ J. - ~" ^ i z. — .i ^ ^ > -^ i; ir L_ J^ *. ■^ "^ .~ •< " ^ X pjC ~ X ■^ ~ X ^ -" •O "^ X ^ «S ^ 11^ »^ _r _r s Sc ^ 1 >> 1 ^~ _2 -r z i; z r < c '^ ~ X X ii ^ _s ^ JX ^ ^ X s ^ !C~ y: :_ .. -= c ^ -^ C — ._■ >> — ?^ r 'Z x S 5 >: ^ ■f i _- =; ^•^ > . •, o X > iT 2^ _= "■* 2 .& 3 -5 :§ 2i < _x > — > ^ r^; ^ E ^ ~" w < — • "^ ^ — ;^ — >^ < X z .^ -= t >: ■— - .^ X lii 5 * < — s :i X £ ■J "i X 3 z <; -k^ *^ i i I "5c :^ > X i ^ :. *" ■*" ^ Z ^ >i "5c jj s z "be •l 5 1 5d — — a: < ^ c _^ _^ > z *- X ^ A BROKEN AXLE By Samuel C. Bassett In 1860, Edward Oliver, Sr., his wife and seven children, converts to the Mormon faith, left their home in England for Salt LaJie City, Utah. At Florence, Nebraska, on the Missouri river a few miles above tlie city of Omaha, they purchased a traveling outfit for emigrants, which consisted of two yoke of oxen, a prairie-schooner wagon, and two cows; and with nu- merous other families having the same destination took the over- land Mormon trail up the valley of the Platte on the north side of the river. "When near a point known as Wood River Centre, 175 miles west of the Missouri river, the front axle of their wagon gave way, compelling a halt for repaire, their immediate companions in the emigrant train continuing the journey, for nothing avoid- able, not even the burial of a member of the train, was allowed to interfere with the prescribed schedule of travel. The Oliver family camped beside the trail and the broken wagon was taken to the ranch of Joseph E. Johnson, who combined in his person and business that of postmaster, merchant, blacksmith, wagon- maker, editor, and publisher of a newspaper {The HiDitsman's Echo). Johnson was a Mormon with two wives, a man pas- sionately fond of flowers which he cultivated to a considerable extent in a fenced enclosure. While buffalo broke dovm. his fence and destroyed his garden and flowere, he could not bring himself to kill them. He was a philosopher and, it must be conceded, a most useful person at a point so far distant from other sources of supplies. The wagon shop of ilr. Johnson contained no seasoned wood suitable for an axle and so fi'om the trees along Wood river was cut an ash from which was hewn and fitted an axle to the wagon and the family again took the trail, but ere ten miles had been traveled the green axle began to bend under the load, the wheels ceased to track, and the party could not proceed. In the family council which succeeded the father urged that they try 27 28 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES to arrange with other emigrants to carry their movables (double teams) and thus continue their journey. The mother suggested that they return to the vicinity of Wood Kiver Centre and arrange to spend the winter. To the sugges- tion of the mother all the children added their entreaties. The mother urged that it was a beautiful country, with an abundance of wood and water, grass for pasture, and hay in plenty could be made for their cattle, and she was sure crops could be raised. The wishes of the mother prevailed, the family returned to a point about a mile west of Wood River Centre, and on the banks of the river constructed a log hut with a sod roof in which they spent the winter. When springtime came, the father, zealous in the Mormon faith, urged that they continue their journey; to this neither the mother nor any of the children could be induced to consent and in the end the father journeyed to Utah, where he made his home and married a younger woman who had ac- companied the family from England, which doubtless was the determining factor in the mother refusing to go. The mother, Sarah Oliver, proved to be a woman of force and character. With her children she engaged in the raising of corn and vegetables, the surplus being sold to emigrants passing over the trail and at Fort Kearny, some twenty miles distant. In those days there were many without means who traveled the trail and Sarah Oliver never turned a hungry emigrant from her door, and often divided with such the scanty store needed for her own family. When rumors came of Indians on the warpath the children took turns on the housetop as lookout for the dread savages. In 1863 two settlers were killed by In- dians a few miles east of her home. In the year 1864 occurred the memorable raid of the Cheyenne Indians in which horrible atrocities were committed and scores of settlers were massacred by these Indians only a few miles to the south. In 1865 William Storer, a near neighbor, was killed by the Indians. Sarah Oliver had no framed diploma from a medical college which would entitle her to the prefix "Dr." to her name, pos- sibly she was not entitled to be called a trained nurse, but she is entitled to be long remembered as one who ministered to the sick, to early travelers hungry and footsore along the trail, and to many families whose habitations were miles distant. Sarah Oliver and her family endured all the toil and priva- A BROKEN AXLE 29 tion common to early settlers, without means, in a new country, far removed from access to what are deemed the barest neces- sities of life in more settled communities. She endured all the terrors incident to settlement in a sparsely settled locality, in which year after year Indian atrocities were committed and in which the coming of such savages was hourly expected and dreaded. She saw the building and completion of the Union Pacific railroad near her home in 1866; she saw Ne- braska become a st-ate in the year 1867. In 1870 when Buffalo county was organized her youngest son, John, was appointed sheriff, and was elected to that office at the first election there- after. Her eldest son, James, was the first assessor in the county, and her son Edward was a member of the first board of county commissioners and later was elected and served with credit and fidelity as county treasurer. When, in the year 1871, Sarah Oliver died, her son Robert inherited the claim whereon she first made a home for her fam- ily and which, in this year, 1915, is one of the most beautiful, fertile farm homes in the county and state. A DREAM-LAND COMPLETE Dreaming, I pictured a wonderful valley, A home-making valley few known could compare ; When lo! from the bluffs to the north of Wood river I saw my dream-picture — my valley lies there. Miles long, east and west, stretch this wonderful valley : Broad fields of alfalfa, of corn, and of wheat; 'Mid orchards and groves the homes of its people ; The vale of Wood river, a dream-land complete. Nebraska, our mother, we love and adore thee ; Within thy fair borders our lot has been cast. When done with life's labors and trials and pleasures, Contented we '11 rest in thy bosom at last. A PIONEER NEBRASKA TEACHER By Mrs. Isabel Roscoe In 1865, B. S. Roscoe, twenty-two years of age, returned to his home in Huron county, Ohio, after two years' service in the civil war. He assisted his father on the farm until 1867, when he was visited hy F. B. Barber, an army comrade, a homesteader in northwestern Nebraska. His accounts of the new country were so attractive that Mr. Roscoe, who had long desired a farm of his own, decided to go west. He started in March, 1867, was delayed in Chicago by a snow blockade, but arrived in Omaha in due time. On March 24, 1867, Mr. Roscoe went to Decatur via the stage route, stopping for dinner at the Lippincott home, called the halfway house be- tween Omaha and Decatur. He was advised to remain in De- catur for a day or two for the return of B. W. Everett from Maple Creek, Iowa, but being told that Logan creek, where he wished to settle, was only sixteen miles distant, he hired a horse and started alone. The snow was deep with a crust on top but not hard enough to bear the horse and rider. After going two miles through the deep snow he returned to Decatur. On March 26 he started with Mr. Everett, who had a load of oats and two dressed hogs on his sled, also two cows to drive. They took turns riding and driving the cows. The trail was hard to fol- low and when they reached the divide between Bell creek and the Blackbird, the wind was high and snow falling. They missed the road and the situation was serious. There was no house, tree, or landmark nearer than Josiah Everett's, who lived near the present site of Lyons, and was the only settler north of what is now Oakland, where John Oak resided. They abandoned the sled and each rode a horse, Mr. Everett trying to lead the way, but the horse kept turning around, so at last he let the animal have its way and they soon arrived at Josiah Everett's home- stead shanty, the cows following. The next day Mr. Roscoe located his homestead on the bank of Logan creek. A couple of trappers had a dugout near by SO A PIONEER NEBRASKA TEACHER 31 which they had made by digging a hole ten feet square in the side of the creek bank and covering the opening with brush and grass. Their names were Asa Merritt and George Kirk. Mr. Roscoe then returned to Decatur and walked from there to Omaha, where he filed on his claim April 1, 1867. The ice on the Missouri river was breaking though drays and busses were still crossing. Mr. Roscoe walked across the river to Council Bluffs and then proceeded by train to Bartlett, Iowa, intending to spend the summer near Brownville, Nebraska. In August he returned to his homestead and erected a claim shanty. The following winter was spent working in the woods at Tie- town. In the winter of 1869 fifty dollai*s was appropriated for school purposes in Everett precinct and Mr. Roscoe taught school for two months in his shanty and boarded around among the patrons. EXPERIENCES OF A PIONEER WOMAN By Mrs. Elise G. Everett On December 31, 1866, in a bleak wind I crossed the Missouri river on the ice, carrying a nine months' old baby, now Mrs. Jas. Stiles, and my four and a half year old boy trudging along. My husband's brother, Josiah Everett, carried three-year-old Eleanor in one arm and drove the team and my husband was a little in advance with his team and wagon containing all our possessions. We drove to the town of Decatur, that place of many hopes and ambitions as yet unfulfilled. We were enter- tained by the Herrick family, who said we would probably re- main on Logan creek, our proposed home site, because we would be too poor to move away. On January 7, 1867, in threatening weather, we started on the last stage of our journey in quest of a home. Nestled deep in the prairie hay and covered with blankets, the babies and I did not suffer. The desolate, wind-swept prairie looked uninviting but when we came to the Logan Valley, it was beautiful even in that weather. The trees along the winding stream, the grove, now known as Fritt's grove, gave a home-like look and I decided I could be content in that valley. We lived with our brother until material for our shack could be brought from Decatur or Onawa, Iowa. Five grown people and seven children, ranging in ages from ten years down, lived in that small shack for three months. That our friendship was unimpaired is a lasting monument to our tact, politeness, and good nature. The New Year snow was the forerunner of heavier ones, until the twenty-mile trip to Decatur took a whole day, but finally materials for the shack were on hand. The last trip extended to Onawa and a sled of provisions and two patient cows were brought over. In Decatur, B. S. Roscoe was waiting an oppor- tunity to get to the Logan and was invited to ''jump on." It was late, the load was heavy, and somewhere near Blackbird creek the team stuck in the drifts. The cows were given their 32 EXPERIENCES OF A PIONEER WOMAN 33 liberty, the horses unhooked, and with some difficulty the half frozen men managed to mount and the horses did the rest — the cows keeping close to their heels ; and so they arrived late in the night. Coffee and a hot supper warmed the men sufficiently to catch a few \vinks of sleep — on bedding on the floor. A break- fast before light and they were off to rescue the load. The two frozen and dressed porkers had not yet attracted the wolves, and next day they crossed the Logan to the new house. A few days more and the snowdrifts were a mighty river. B. W. was a sort of Crusoe, but as everything but the horses and cows — and the trifling additional human stock — was strewn around him, he suffered nothing but anxiety. JosiaJi drove to Decatur, procured a boat, and with the aid of two or three trappers who chanced to be here, we were all rowed over the mile-wide sea, and were at home ! Slowly the water subsided, and Nebraska had emerged from her territorial obscurity (March 1, 1867) before it was possible for teams to cross the bottom lands of the Logan. One Sunday morning I caught sight of two moving figures emerging from the grove. The dread of Indian callers was ever with me, but as they came nearer my spirits mounted to the clouds — for I recognized my sister, Mrs. Andrew Everett, as the rider, and her son Frank leading the pony. Their claim had been located in March, but owing to the frequent and heavy rains we were not looking for them so soon. The evening before we had made out several covered wagons coming over the hills from Uecatur, but we were not aware that they had already ar- rived at Josiah's. The wagons we had seen were those of E. R. Libby, Chas. Morton, Southwell, and Clements. A boat had brought my sister and her son across the Logan — a pony being allowed to swim the stream but the teams were obliged to go eight miles south to Oakland, where John Oak and two or three others had alread}^ settled, and who had thrown a rough bridge across. Before fall the Andrew Everett house (no shack) was habit- able — also a number of other families had moved in on both sides of the Logan, and it began to be a real neighborhood. One late afternoon I started out to make preparations for the night, as Mr. Everett was absent for a few days. As I opened the door two Indians stood on the step, one an elderly 34 NEBRASI^Li PIONEER REMINISCENCES man, the other a much-bedecked young buck. I admitted them ; the elder seated himself and spoke a few friendly words, but the smart young man began immediately to inspect the few furnish- ings of the room. Though quaking inwardly, I said nothing till he spied a revolver hanging in its leather case upon the wall and was reaching for it, I got there first, and taking it from the case I held it in my hands. At once his manner changed. He protested that he was a good Indian, and only wanted to see the gun, while the other immediately rose from his chair. In a voice I never would have recognized as my own, I infoi*med him that it was time for him to go. The elder man at last escorted him outside with me as rear guard. Fancy my feelings when right at the door were ten or more husky fellows, who seemed to propose entering, but by this time the desperate courage of the arrant coward took possession of me, and I barred the way. It was plain that the gun in my hand was a surprise, and the earnest entreaties of my five-year-old boy ''not to shoot them" may also have given them pause. They said they were cold and hungry; I assured them that I had neither room nor food for them — little enough for my own babies. At last they all went on to the house of our brother, Andrew Everett. I knew that they were foraging for a large party which was encamped in the grove. Soon they came back laden with supplies which they had obtained, and now they insisted on coming in to cook them, and the smell of spirits was so unmistakable that I could readily see that Andrew had judged it best to get rid of them as soon as possible, thinking that they would be back in camp by dark, and the whiskey, which they had obtained between here and Fremont, would have evaporated. But it only made them more insistent in their demands and some were looking quite sullen. At last a young fellow, not an Indian — for he had long dark curls reaching to his shoulders — with a strategic smile asked in good English for a "drink of water." Instead of leaving the door, as he evidently calculated, I called to my little boy to bring it. A giggle ran through the crowd at the expense of the strat- egist but it was plain they were growing ugly. Now the older Indian took the opportunity to make them an earnest talk, and though it was against their wishes, he at last started them to- ward the grove. After a while Frank Everett, my nephew, who had come down to bolster up my courage, and the children went EXPERIENCES OF A PIONEER WOMAN 35 to bed and to sleep, but no sleep for me ; as the gray dawn was showing in the east, a terrific pounding upon the door turned my blood to ice. Again and again it came, and at last I tiptoed to the door and stooped to look through the crack. A pair of very slim ankles was all that was visible and as I rose to my feet, the very sweetest music I had ever heard saluted me, the neigh of my pet colt Bonnie, who had failed to receive her ac- customed drink of milk the previous evening and took this man- ner of reminding me. This was the only time we were ever menaced with actual danger, and many laughable false alarms at last cured me of my fears of a people among whom I now have valued friends. RECOLLECTIONS OF WEEPING WATER, NEBRASKA By I. N. Hunter Mr. and Mrs. L. D. Hunter were pioneer settlers of Nebraska and Weeping Water, coming from Illinois by team. Their first settlement in the state was near West Point in Cuming county where father staked out a claim in 1857. Things went well aside from the usual hardships of pioneer life, such as being out of flour and having to pound corn in an iron kettle with an iron wedge to obtain corn meal for bread. When the bottom of the kettle gave way as a result of the many thumpings of the wedge, a new plan was devised — that of chopping a hole in a log and making a crude wooden kettle which better stood the blows of the wedge. This method of grinding corn was used until a trip could be made with an ox team, to the nearest mill, forty miles distant ; a long and tedious trip always but much more so in this particular instance because of the high water in the streams which were not bridged in those days. These were small hard- ships compared to what took place when the home was robbed by Indians. These treacherous savages stripped the premises of all the live stock, household and personal effects. Cattle and chickens were killed and eaten and what could not be disposed of in this way were wantonly destroyed and driven off. Clothing and household goods were destroyed so that little was saved except the clothing the members of the family had on. From the two feather beds that were ripped open, mother succeeded in gathering up enough feathers to make two pillows and these I now have in my home. They are more than a half century old. A friendly Indian had come in advance of the hostile band and warned the little settlement of the approach of the Indians with paint on their faces. His signs telling them to flee were speedily obeyed and in all probability this was all that saved many lives, as the six or seven families had to keep together and travel all night to keep out of the reach of the Indians until the people at Omaha could be notified and soldiers sent to the scene. 36 EECOLLECTIONS OF WEEPING WATER 37 On the arrival of the soldiers the Indians immediately hoisted a white flag and insisted that they were ''good Indians." As no one had been killed by the Indians, it was the desire of the soldiers to merely make the Indians return the stolen prop- erty and stock, but as much property was destroj-ed, the settlers received very little. A number of the Indians were arrested and tried for robbing the postoffice which was at our home. My parents were the principal witnesses and after the Indians were acquitted, it was feared they might take revenge, so they were advised to leave the country. "With an ox team and a few ragged articles of clothing they started east. "When he reached Rock Bluffs, one of the early river towns of Cass county, father succeeded in obtaining work. His wages were seventy-five cents a day with the privilege of living in a small log cabin. There was practically no furniture for the cabin, corn husks and the few quilts that had been given them were placed on the floor in the corner to serve as a place to sleep. Father worked until after Christmas time without having a coat. At about this time, he was told to take his team and make a trip into Iowa. Just as he was about to start, his employer said to him: "Hunter, where 's your coat?" The reply was, "I haven't any." "Well, that won't do; you can't maJie that trip without a coat; come with me to the store." Father came out of the store with a new under coat and over- coat, the fii'st coat of any kind he had had since his home was invaded by the red men. An explanation of the pui-pose of the trip into Iowa will be of interest. The man father worked for was a flour and meat freighter with a route to Denver, Colorado. In the winter he would go over into Iowa, buy hogs and drive them across the river on the ice, to Rock Bluffs, where they were slaughtered and salted down in large freight wagons. In the spring, from eight to ten yoke of oxen would be hitched to the wagon, and the meat, and often times an accompanying cargo of flour, would be start- ed across the plains to attractive markets in Denver. Father made a number of these trips to Denver as ox driver. The writer was bom at Rock Bluffs in 1860. "We moved to Weeping Water in 1862 when four or five dwellings and the little old miU that stood near the falls, comprised what is now our beautiful little city of over 1,000 population. \, 38 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES During the early sixties, many bands of Indians numbering from forty to seventy-five, visited Weeping Water. It was on one of their visits that the writer made the best record he has ever made, as a foot racer. The seven or eight year old boy of today would not think of running from an Indian, but half a century ago it was different. It was no fun in those days to be out hunting cattle and run onto a band of Indians all sitting around in a circle. In the morning the cattle were turned out to roam about at will except when they attempted to molest a field, and at night they were brought home if they could be found. If not the search was continued the next day. Some one was out hunting cattle all the time it seemed. With such a system of letting cattle run at large, it was really the fields that were herded and not the cattle. Several times a day some mem- ber of the family would go out around the fields to see if any cattle were molesting them. One of our neighbors owned two Shepherd dogs which would stay with the cattle all day, and take them home at night. It was very interesting to watch the dogs drive the cattle. One would go ahead to keep the cattle from turning into a field where there might be an opening in the rail fence, while the other would bring up the rear. They worked like two men would. But the family that had trained dogs of this kind was the exception; in most cases it was the boys that had to do the herding. It was on such a mission one day that the writer watched from under cover of some bushes, the passing of about seventy-five Indians all on horseback and traveling single file. They were strung out a distance of almost a mile. Of course they were supposed to be friendly, but there were so many things that pointed to their tendency to be other- wise at times, that we were not at all anxious to meet an Indian no matter how many times he would repeat the characteristic phrase, "Me good Injun." We were really afraid of them and moreover the story was fresh in our minds of the murder of the Hungate family in Colorado, Mrs. Hungate's parents being resi- dents of our vicinity at that time. Her sister, Mrs. P. S. Barnes, now resides in Weeping Water. Thus it will be seen that many Indian experiences and inci- dents have been woven into the early history of Weeping Water. In conclusion to this article it might be fitting to give the Indian legend which explains how the town received its name of Weep- RECOLLECTIONS OF WEEPING WATER 39 ing Water. The poem was written by my son, Rev. A. V. Hunt- er, of Boston, and is founded on the most popular of the Indian legends that have been handed down. THE LEGEND OF WEEPING WATER Long before the white man wandered To these rich Nebraska lands, i Indians in their paint and feathers \^ Roamed in savage warlike bands. They, the red men, feared no hardships; Battles were their chief delights; Victory was their great ambition In their awful bloody fights. Then one day the war cry sounded Over valley, hill and plain. From the North came dusky warriors, From that vast unknown domain. When the news had reached the valley That the foe was near at hand. Every brave was stirred to action To defend his home, his land. To the hills they quickly hastened There to wait the coming foe. Each one ready for the conflict Each with arrow in his bow. Awful was the scene that followed. Yells and warwhoops echoed shrill. But at last as night descended Death had conquered; all was still. Then the women in the wigwams Hearing rumors of the fight, Bearing flaming, flickering torches Soon were wandering in the night. There they found the loved ones lying Calm in everlasting sleep. Little wonder that the women, Brokenhearted, all should weep. 40 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES Hours and hours they kept on weeping, 'Til their tears began to flow In many trickling streamlets To the valley down below. These together joined their forces To produce a larger stream Which has ever since been flowing As you see it in this scene. Indians christened it Nehawka Crying Water means the same. In this way the legend tells us Weeping Water got its name. INCIDENTS AT PLATTSMOUTH By Ella Pollock Minor Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Vallery were living in Glenwoad, Iowa, in 1855, when they decided to purchase a store from some In- dians in Plattsmouth. Mr. Vallery went over to transact the bus- iness, and Mrs. Vallery was to follow in a few days. Upon her ar- rival in Bethlehem, where she was to take the ferry, she learned that the crossing was unsafe on account of ice floating in the river. There were two young men there, who were very anxious to get across and decided to risk the trip. They took a letter to her husband telling of the trouble. The next day, accom- panied by these two young men, Mr. Vallery came over after her in a rowboat, by taking a course farther north. The boat was well loaded when they started on the return trip. Some of the men had long poles, and by constantly pushing at the ice they kept the boat from being crushed or overturned. Mrs. Vallery 's oldest daughter was the third white child bom in the vicinity of Plattsmouth. And this incident happened soon after her arrival in 1855. Mrs. Vallery had the baby in a cradle and was preparing dinner when she heard a knock at the door. Before she could reach it, an Indian had stepped in, and seeing some meat on the table asked for it. She nodded for him to take it, but he seemed to have misunderstood, and then asked for a drink of water. While Mrs. Vallery was getting the drink, he reached for the baby, but she was too quick for him and succeeded in reaching the baby first. He then departed without further trouble. At one time the Vallerys had a sick cow, and every evening several Indians would come to find out how she was. She seemed to get no better and still they watched that cow. In the course of a week she died, evidently during the night, because the next morning the first thing they heard was the Indians skinning the cow, out by the shed, and planning a ''big feed" for that night down by the river. The late Mrs. Thomas Pollock used to tell us how the Indians 41 42 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES came begging for things. Winnebago John, who came each year, couldn't be satisfied very easily, so my grandmother found an army coat of her brother's for him. He was perfectly de- lighted and disappeared with it behind the wood pile, where he remained for some time. The family wondered what he was doing, so after he had slipped away, they went out and hunted around for traces of what had kept him. They soon found the clue ; he had stuffed the coat in under the wood, and when they pulled it out, they found it was minus all the brass buttons. Another time one of Mrs. Pollock's children, the late Mrs. Lillian Parmele, decided to play Indian and frighten her two brothers, who were going up on the hill to do some gardening. She wrapped up in cloaks, blankets and everything she could find to make herself look big and fierce, then went up and hid in the hazel brush, where she knew they would have to pass. Pretty soon she peeked out and there was a band of Indians coming. Terrified, she ran down toward her home, dropping pieces of clothing and blankets as she went. The Indians seeing them, ran after her, each one anxious to pick up what she was drop- ping. The child thinking it was she they were after, let all her belongings go, so she could run the better and escape them. After that escapade quite a number of things were missing about the house, some of them being seen later at an Indian camp near by. FIRST THINGS IN CLAY COUNTY By Mrs. Charles M. Brown The first settler of Clay county, Nebraska, was John B. Wes- ton, who located on the Little Blue, built a log hut in 1857 and called the place Pawnee Ranch. It became a favorite stopping place of St. Joe and Denver mail carriers. The first settler of Sutton was Luther French who came in March, 1870, and homesteaded eighty acres. Mr. French sur- veyed and laid out the original townsite which was named after Sutton, Massachusetts. His dugout and log house was built on the east bank of School creek, east of the park, and just south of the Kansas City and Omaha railroad bridge. Traces of the excavation are still visible. The house was lined with brick and had a tunnel outlet near the creek bottom for use in case of an Indian attack. Among his early callers were Miss Nellie Hen- derson and Capt. Charles White who rode in from the West Blue in pursuit of an antelope, which they captured. Mrs. Wils Cumming was the first white woman in Sutton. She resided in the house now known as the Mrs. May Evans (deceased) place. Part of this residence is the original Cum- ming home. At this time the population of Sutton consisted of thirty-four men and one woman. In the spring of 1871, F. M. Brown, who was bom in Illinois in 1840, came to Nebraska and settled on a homestead in Clay county, four miles north of the present site of Sutton. At that time Clay county was unorganized terri- tory, and the B. & M. railroad was being extended from Lincoln west. September 11, 1871, Governor James issued a proclamation for the election of officers and the organization of Clay county fixing the date, October 14, 1871. The election was held at the home of Alexander Campbell, two miles east of Harvard, and fifty-four votes were cast. Sutton was chosen as the county seat. F. M. Brown was elected county clerk ; A. K. Marsh, P. 0. Nor- man, and A. A. Corey were elected county commissioners. When 43 1 44 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES it came to organizing and qualifying the officers, only one free- holder could be found capable of signing official bonds and as the law required two sureties, R. G. Brown bought a lot of Luther French and was able to sign with Luther French as surety on all official bonds. As the county had no money and no assessments had been made all county business was done on credit. There was no courthouse and county business was con- ducted m the office of R. G. Brown, until February, 1873, when a frame building to be used as a courthouse was completed at a cost of $1,865. This was the first plastered building in the county and was built by F. M. Brown. In May, 1873, a petition for an election to relocate the county seat was filed, but the motion of Commissioner A. K. Marsh that the petition be ''tabled, rejected and stricken from the files" ended the discussion temporarily. In 1879 the county seat was removed to Clay Center. Several buildings were erected during the fall of 1873 and Sutton became the center of trade in the territory between the Little Blue and the Platte rivers. Melvin Brothers opened the first store in 1873 south of the railroad tracks, now South Sanders avenue. At that time it was called "Scrabble Hill." In 1874 the town was incorporated and a village government organized, with F. M. Brown as mayor. Luther French was the first postmaster. Thurlow Weed opened the first lumber yard. WiUiam Shirley built and run the first hotel. L. R. Grimes and J. B. Dinsmore opened the first bank. Pyle and Eaton built and operated the first elevator. Isaac N. Clark opened the first hardware store. Dr. Martin V. B. Clark, a graduate of an Ohio medical col- lege, was the first physician "in the county and opened the first drug store in Sutton. In 1873, during the first term of district court, he was appointed one of the commissioners of insanity. In 1877 he was elected coroner. The Odd Fellows hall was the first brick building erected. The Congregational church, built in 1875, was the first church building in the county. William L. Weed taught the first school, beginning January 20, 1872, with an enrollment of fourteen scholars. FIRST THINGS IN CLAY COUNTY 45 In 1876 the Evangelical Association of North America sent Rev. W. Schwerin to Sutton as a missionary. In the early seventies the Burlington railroad company built and maintained an immigrant house on the corner south of the present Cottage hotel. This was a long frame building of one room with a cook stove in either end. Many of the immigrants were dependent upon a few friends who were located on the new land in the vicinity. Their food consisted largely of soup made with flour and water; any vegetables they were able to get were used. Meat was scarce with the immigrants. They had considerable milk, mostly sour, brought in by their friends. The immigrants remained here until they found work; most of them moved on to farms. The house burned about 1880. In the early days Sutton was a lively business place with all the features of a frontier town. Now it is a city enjoying the comforts of modern improvements and refined society. REMINISCENCES OF CUSTER COUNTY By Mrs. J. J. Douglas In July, 1888, I arrived at Broken Bow, which is situated geographically about the center of the state. That village looked strange to me with not a tree in sight excepting a few little cuttings of Cottonwood and boxelder here and there upon a lawn. After having lived all my life in a country where every home was surrounded by groves and ornamental shade trees, it seemed that I was in a desert. I had just completed a course of study in a normal school prior to coming to Nebraska, and was worn out in mind and body, so naturally my first consideration was the climatic condi- tion of the country and its corresponding effect upon the vegeta- tion. I wondered how the people stood the heat of the day but soon discovered that a. light gentle breeze was blowing nearly all the time, so that the heat did not seem intense as it did at my Iowa home. After I had been in Broken Bow about two weeks I was of- fered a position in the mortgage loan office of Trefren and Hewitt. The latter was the first county clerk of Custer county. I held this position a few weeks, then resigned to take charge of the Berwyn school at the request of Mr. Charles Randall, the county superintendent. Berwyn was a village situated about ten miles east of Broken Bow. It consisted of one general mer- chandise store, a postoffice, depot, and a blacksmith shop. I shall never forget my first impression on arriving at Berwyn very early on that September morning. It was not daylight when the train stopped at the little depot, and what a feeling of loneliness crept over me as I watched that train speed on its way behind the eastern hills! I found my way to the home of J. 0. Taylor (who was then living in the back end of his store building) and informed him that I was the teacher who had come to teach the school and asked him to direct me to my boarding place. Being a member of the school board, Mr. Tay- lor gave me the necessary information and then sent his hired 46 REMINISCENCES OF CUSTER COUNTY 47 man with a team and buggy to take me a mile farther east to the home of Ben Talbot, where I was to stay. The Talbot home was a little sod house consisting of two small rooms. On entering I found Mrs. Talbot preparing breakfast for the family. I was given a cordial welcome, and after break- V fast started in company with Mrs. Talbot's little girl for the schoolhouse. The sense of loneliness which had taken possession of me on my w^ay to this place began to be dispelled. I found Mrs. Talbot to be a woman of kind heart and generous impulses. She had two little girls, the older one being of school age. I could see the schoolhouse up on the side of a hill. It was made of sod and was about twelve by fifteen feet. The roof was of brush and weeds, with some sod ; but I could see the blue sky by gazing up through the roof at almost any part of it. I looked out upon the hills and down the valley and wondered where the pupils were to come from, as I saw no houses and no evidence of habitation anywhere excepting Mr. Talbot's home. But by nine o'clock about twelve children had arrived from some place, I knew not where. I found in that little, obscure schoolhouse some of the bright- est and best boys and girls it was ever my good fortune to meet. There soon sprang up between us a bond of sympathy. I sym- pathized with them in their almost total isolation from the world, and they in turn sympathized with me in my loneliness and homesickness. On opening my school that first morning, great was my sur- prise to learn how well those children could sing. I had never been in a school where there were so many sweet voices. My at- tention w^as particularly directed to the voices of two little girls as they seemed remarkable for children of their years. I often recall one bright sunny evening after I had dismissed school and stood watching the pupils starting out in various directions for their homes, my attention was called to a path that led do^vn the valley through the tall grass. I heard singing and at once recognized the voices of these two little girls. The song was a favorite of mine and I could hear those sweet tones long after the children were out of sight in the tall grass. I shall never forget how charmingly sweet that music seemed to me. I soon loved every pupil in that school and felt a keen regret when the time came for me to leave them. I have the tenderest 48 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES memory of my association with that district, though the school equipment was meager and primitive. After finishing my work there I returned to Broken Bow where I soon accepted a posi- tion in the office of J. J. Douglass, clerk of the district court. Mr. Douglass was one of the organizers of Custer county and was chosen the first clerk of the court, which position he held for four years. I began my work in this office on November 16, 1888, and held the position till the close of his term. During this time many noted criminal cases were tried in court. Judge Francis G. Hamer of Kearney being the judge. One case in which I was especially interested was the DeMerritt case, in which I listened to the testimony of several of my pu- pils from the Berwyn district. Another far-famed case was the Haunstine case, in which Albert Haunstine received a death sen- tence. To hear a judge pronounce a death sentence is certainly the most solemn thing one can imagine. Perhaps the most try- ing ordeal I ever experienced was the day of the execution of Haunstine. It so happened that the scaffold was erected just beneath one of the windows of our office on the south side of the courthouse. As the nails were being driven into that structure how I shuddered as I thought that a human being was to be suspended from that great beam. Early in the morning on the day of the execution people from miles away began to arrive to witness the crudest event that ever marred the fair name of our beloved state. Early in the day, in company with several others, I visited the cell of the condemned man. He was busy distrib- uting little souvenirs he had made from wood to friends and members of his family. He was pale but calm and self-com- posed. My heart ached and my soul was stirred to its very depth in sympathy for a fellow being and yet I was utterly helpless so far as extending any aid or consolation. The thought recurred to me so often, why is it men are -so cruel to each other — wolfish in nature, seeking to destroy their own kind? And now the thought still comes to me, will the day ever dawn when there will be no law in Nebraska permitting men to cruelly take the life of each other to avenge a wrong? I tiiist that the fair name of Nebraska may never be blotted again by another so-called legal execution. It was during the time I was in that office the first commence- ment of the Broken Bow high school was held, the class consist- REMINISCENCES OF CUSTER COUNTY 49 ing of two graduates, a boy and a girl. The boy is now Dr. Willis Talbot, a physician of Broken Bow, and the girl, who was Stella Brown, is now the wife of "W. W. Waters, mayor of Broken Bow. We moved our office into the new courthouse in January, 1890. Soon after we saw the completion of the mammoth build- ing extending the entire length of the block on the south side of the public square called the Realty block. The Ansley Cornet band was the first band to serenade us in the new courthouse. Mr. Douglass completed his term of office as clerk of the dis- trict court on January 7, 1892, and two weeks later we were married and went for a visit to my old home in Iowa. Soon after returning to Broken Bow we moved to Callaway. I shall never forget my first view of the little city of which I had heard so much, the "Queen City of the Seven Valleys." After mov- ing to Callaway I again taught school and had begun on my second year's work when I resigned to accept a position in the office of the state land commissioner, H. C. Russell, at Lincoln, where I remained for two years. During the time I was in that office Mr. Douglass was appointed postmaster at Callaway, so I resigned my work in Lincoln and returned home to work in the postoffice. We were in this office for seven years, after which I accepted a position in the Seven Valleys bank. After a year I again took up school work and have been engaged in that ever since. We have continued to reside at Callaway all these years and have learned to love the rugged hills and glorious sunshine. The winds continue to blow and the sands beat upon our path- way, but we would not exchange our little cottage in the grove for a palace in the far East. AN EXPERIENCE By Mrs. Harmon Bross An experience through which I passed in northwestern Ne- braska in the early days comes to my mind very frequently. When the railroad first went through that region to Chadron, Mr. Bross was general missionary for the Northwest, including central Wyoming and the Black Hills country. When we first visited Chadron it was a town of white tents, and we occupied a tent for several days. Then the tent was needed for other purposes and Mr. Bross suggested that we find lodging in a building in process of erection for a hotel. The frame was up and enclosed, the floors laid, but no stairs and no division into rooms. The proprietor said we could have a bed in the upper room, where there were fifty beds side by side. He would put a curtain around the bed. As that was the only thing to do, we accepted the situation and later I climbed a ladder to the upper floor. The bed in one corner was enclosed with a calico curtain just the size of the bed. I climbed on, and prepared the baby boy and myself for sleep. As I was the only woman in the room, and every bed was occupied before morning by two men, the situation was somewhat unique. However, I was soon asleep. About three o'clock I was awakened by the stealthy footsteps of two men on the ladder. They came to the bed at the foot of the one we occupied, and after settling themselves to their satis- faction began discussing the incidents of the night. As they were gamblers, the conversation was a trifle strange to a woman. Soon in the darkness below and close to the side of the build- ing where we were, rang out several pistol shots with startling distinctness. One man remarked, in a calm, impersonal tone, "I prefer to be on the ground floor when the shots fly around like that." The remark was not especially reassuring for a mother with a sleeping baby by her side. As no one in the room seemed to be disturbed, and as the tumult below soon died away, I again slept, and awakened in the morning none the worse for the experience of the night. 50 Mrs. Andrew K. Gault Third Vice-President General from Nebraska, National Society, Daughters of the American Revolution. Elected 1913 LEGEND OF CROW BUTTE By Dr. Anna Robinson Cross The early history of Crawford and its environment is replete with tales of Indian scares; the pioneer settlers handing them- selves together and arming for protection against possible In- dian raids, all presenting lurid material for the most exciting stories, if one could gather the accurate data. The legend of Crow Butte is one of the most thrilling, and at the same time the most important, of the many tales told by the old settlers around the winter fireside. In the early history of the Sioux and Crow Indians, much strife and ill-feeling was engendered between the two tribes by the stealing of horses. As no satisfactory settlement could be arranged between them, it was declared, after a solemn pow- wow, that a decisive battle should be fought, and the field for the said conflict was chosen on the land east of the present site of Crawford. The final stand was taken on one of the peculiar clay formations known as buttes, found in northwestern Ne- braska. These eminences, dividing this section of the country into valleys and ridges of hills, add very much to the beauty of the landscape, by their seeming likeness to a succession of battle- ments and old castles. This particular butte, standing like a sentinel about five miles east of Crawford, rises to a height of nearly three hundred feet on the east side, and is possible of ascent by gradual elevation on the west side. It appears to stand distinct and alone, form- ing a landmark on the horizon that has guided many a settler and traveler to home and safety. The writer is one of the num- ber of travelers who, from bitter experiences in long winter drives over the prairie, has learned to appreciate the landmark of the old Crow Butte. The Sioux, having driven the Crows to the top of this butte, thought, by guarding the path, they could quickly conquer by starving them out. Under cover of night the Crows decided, after due deliberation, that the warriors could escape, if the old 51 52 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES men of the tribe would remain and keep up a constant singing. This was done. The young and able-bodied men, making ropes of their blankets, were let down the steep side of the butte, while the poor old men kept up a constant wailing for days, until death, from lack of food and exhaustion, had stilled their voices. As the singing gradually ceased, the Sioux, while watching, saw white clouds passing over the butte, having the appearance of large, white birds Avith outstretched wings, on which they car- ried the old men to the "Happy Hunting Grounds." The Sioux, awed by the illusion, believed it an omen of peace and declared that forever after there should be no more wars between the Crows and the Sioux. Through Capt. James H. Cook, an early settler and pioneer of this section, who has served as scout and interpreter for the Indians for years, I have learned that it was near this Crow Butte that the last great treaty was made with the Indians, in which the whole of the Black Hills country was disposed of to the white people. According to his statement, the affair came very nearly ending in a battle in which many lives might have been lost. The bravery and quick action of a few men turned the tide in favor of the white people. The following original poem by Pearl Shepherd Moses is quite appropriate in this connection : TO CROW HEART BUTTE Oh, lofty Crow Heart Butte, uprising toward the sun. What is your message to the world below? Or do you wait in silence, race outrun. The march of ages in their onward flow? Ye are so vast, so great, and yet so still, That but a speck I seem in nature 's plan ; Or but a drop without a way or will In this mad rush miscalled the race of man. In nature's poems you a period stand Among her lessons we can never read ; But with high impulse and good motive found, You help us toward the brave and kindly deed. LEGEND OF THE CROW BUTTE 53 The winds and sunshine, dawns and throbbing star, Yield you their message from the ether clear, While moonlight crowns your brow so calm and fair With homage kingly as their greatest peer. A longing fills me as I nightly gaze; Would I could break your spell of silence vast ; But centuries and years and months and days Must add themselves again unto the past. And I can only wish that I were as true, Always found faithful and as firmly stand For right as you since you were young and new, A wondrous product from a mighty hand. LIFE ON THE FRONTIER By James Aybes Pradrie Covered with Indians In July, 1867, a freight train left the old Plum Creek station late one night for the west. As the company was alarmed for the safety of the trains, Pat Delahunty, the section boss, sent out three men on a hand-car over his section in advance of this train. They had gone about three miles to the bend west of the station when they were attacked by Indians. This was at a point nearly north of the John Jacobson claim. There are still on the south side of the track some brickbats near the culvert. This is the place where the Indians built a fire on the south side of the track and took a position on the north side. When the hand-car came along, they fired upon it. They killed one man and wounded another, a cockney from London. England, and think- ing him dead took his scalp. He flinched. They stuck a knife in his neck but even that did not kill him. He recovered con- sciousness and crawled into the high weeds. The freight came and fell into the trap. While the Indians were breaking into the ears of the wrecked freight, the Englishman made his escape, creeping a mile to the north. As soon as morning came, Patrick Delahunty with his men took a hand-car and went to investigate. Before they had gone half a mile they could see the Indians all around the wreck. Each one had a pony. They had found a lot of calico in one car and each Indian had taken a bolt and had broken one end loose and was unfolding it as he rode over the prairie. Yelling, they rode back and forth in front of one an- other with calico flying, like a Maypole dance gone mad. When they saw the section men with guns, they broke for the Platte river and crossed it due south of where Martin Peterson's house now stands. The section men kept shooting at them but got no game. They found that a squaw-man had probably had a hand in the wrecking of the train for the rails had been pried up just beyond the fire. The smoke blinded the engineer and he ran into the rails which were standing as high as the front of the 54 LIFE ON THE FRONTIER 55 boiler. The engineer and the fireman were killed. The engine ran off the track, but the cars remained on the rails. The In- dians opened every car and set fire to two or three of the front ones. One car was loaded with brick. The writer got a load of these brick in 1872 and built a blacksmith forge. Among the bricks were found pocket knives, cutlery, and a Colt's revolver. The man who had been scalped came across the prairie toward the section men. They thought he was an Indian. His shirt w^as gone and his skin was covered with dried blood. They were about to shoot when Delahunty said, "Stop, boys," for the man had his hands above his head. They let him come nearer and when he was a hundred yards away Delahunty said, "By gobs, it's Cockney!" They took him to the section house and cared for him. He told them these details. After this event he worked for the Union Pacific railroad at Omaha. Then he went back to England. The railroad had just been built and there was only one train a day. Wild Turkeys and Wild Cats Tom Mahum was the boss herder for Ewing of Texas and had brought his herd up that summer and had his cattle on Dil- worth's islands until he could ship them to Chicago. He ban- tered me for a turkey hunt, and we went on horseback up Plum creek. He was a good shot and we knew we would get game of some kind. We followed the creek five miles, when we scared up a flock of turkeys. They were of the bronze kind, large and heavy. We got three, and as we did not find any more, we took the tableland for the Platte. As we came down a pocket we ran into a nest of wildcats. There were four of them. One cat jumped at a turkey that was tied to Tom's saddle. That scared his horse so that it nearly unseated him, but he took his pistol and killed the cat. I was afraid they would jump at me. They growled and spit, and I edged away until I could shoot from my pony, and when twenty-five yards away I slipped in two cart- ridges and shot two of the cats. The fourth one got away and we were glad to let it go. We took the three cats to town, skinned them, and sold the pelts to Peddler Charley for one dol- lar. Tom talked about that hunt when I met him in Oregon a few years ago. 56 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES A Scare On another occasion, Perley Wilson and I took a hunt on the big" island south of the river where there were some buffalo. The snow was about eight inches deep and we crossed the main stream on the ice. Before we got over, I saw a moccasin track and showed it to Wilson. He said we had better get out. ' ' No, ' ' said I, "let us trail it and find where it goes." It took us into a very brushy island. Wilson would go no further, but I took my shotgun, cocked both barrels, and went on but with caution for fear the Indian would see me first. I got just half way in, and I heard a "Ugh!" right behind me. The hair on my head went straight up. I was scared, but I managed to gasp * ' Sioux ? ' ' "No, Pawnee. Heap good Indian." Then he laughed and I breathed again. I asked, ' ' What are you doing here ? " " Cook- ing beaver," he replied, and led the way to his fire. He had a beaver skinned hanging on a plum tree and he had a tin can over the fire, boiling the tail. I returned to Wilson and told him about it. He said, "It is no use to try to sneak up on an Indian in the brush, for he always sees you first." I could have shot the Indian, as he only had a revolver, but that would have been cowardly as he had the first drop on me and could have had my scalp. We got home with no game that day. PLUM CREEK (LEXINGTON), NEBRASKA By Wm. M. Bancroft, M.D. On April 5, 1873, I arrived at Plum Creek, now Lexington, with what was called the second colony from Philadelphia, Penn- sylvania. Captain F. J. Pearson, who was in charge, later be- came editor of the Pioneer. Judge Robert B. Pierce and the Tucker family were also with this colony. On our arrival the only town we found was a mile east of the present site of Lex- ington. It consisted of a section house, a small shanty called the Johnson restaurant, one story and a half log house run by Daniel Freeman as a general store, and a stockade built of ties used as a place of safety for the horses and cows. The upper story of the Freeman building was occupied by the Johnson family, who partitioned it off with blankets to accommodate the immigrants, and the only lights we could depend on were candle dips from the Freeman store at twenty-five cents each. At this time bread sold at twenty-five cents per loaf. There was also an immigrant house 20 by 40 feet located on the north side of the railroad nearly opposite the other buildings referred to. This house was divided into rooms 6 by 8 feet square with a hall between. The front room was used as Daw- son county's first office by John H. MacColl, then county clerk. There was also a coal shed and a water tank on the south side of the track. The depot was a mile west on a railroad section where the town was finally built. The reason for the change of townsite was a fight by Free- man against the Union Pacific company. Freeman owned the quarter section of government land, on which the buildings re- ferred to were located. The first house in Plum Creek was built by Robert Pierce, whose family got permission to live in a freight car on the side- track while the house was being built. While in the freight car the family was attacked by measles. In order to gain entrance to this temporary residence a step-ladder had to be used, and 57 58 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES in visiting the family while in the car, I would find them first at one end of the switch and next at the other, and would have to transfer the ladder each time. Later on Robert Pierce was elected probate judge and served until by reason of his age he retired. Tudor Tucker built the first frame house on Buffalo creek five miles northeast of town. The first store building in Plum Creek was built by Mr. Betz. The first hotel was built by E. D. Johnson, who deserves much credit for his work in building up Dawson county. In 1873 the population numbered about 175. The old townsite was soon abandoned and the town of Plum Creek on its present site became a reality. The completion of the Platte river bridge was celebrated July 4, 1873, by a big demonstra.tion. It then became necessary to get the trade from the Republican Valley, Plum Creek being the nearest trading point for that locality. Since there were no roads from the south, a route had to be laid out. With this object in view, Judge Pierce, E. D. Johnson, Elleek Johnson, and I constituted ourselves a committee to do the work. We started across the country and laid up sod piles every mile, until we reached the Arapahoe, 48 miles southwest. Coming back we shortened up the curves. This was the first road from the south into Plum Creek, and we derived a great amount of trade from this territory. It was no uncommon thing for the Erwin & Powers Company, conducting a general store at this time, to take in from one thousand to twelve hundred dollars on Satur- days. The first church and Sunday scnool was organized Sunday, April 13, 1873, three and one-half miles north of town at the farm of Widow Mullen. Those present, including myself, were : Mrs. Mullen and family, Captain John S. Stuckey, afterwards treasurer of Dawson county, Joseph Stuckey, Samuel Clay Stuckey and wife, Edgar Mellenger, and one negro servant. Joseph Stuckey was appointed leader, James Tipton, superin- tendent of the Sunday school, and I took charge of the music. The first regular sermon was preached by a Mr. Wilson who came to Overton to live on a homestead. He consented to preach for us until we could fill his place by an appointment at general conference. We held the first regular service both of the church and the Sunday school in the old frame schoolhouse located in PLUM CREEK (LEXINGTON), NEBRASKA 59 the east ward. We also held revivals in the Hill hall where Smith's opera house now stands. On this Sunday afternoon about five o'clock the great April stonn started with blizzard from the northwest. It was impos- sible for any of us to get away until Tuesday afternoon. On Monday night Captain Stuckey, Doc Mellenger, and I had to take the one bed. During the night the bed broke down and we lay until morning huddled together to keep from freezing. Mellenger and I left Tuesday afternoon, when the storm abated, and started baek toward the old town. The storm again caught us and drifted us to Doc's old doby two and one-half miles north of the townsite. By this time the snow had drifted from four to five feet in depth. The horses took us to the dugout stable in which we put them. Then we had to dig our way to the doby where we remained from Tuesday evening until Thursday morn- ing. We had nothing to eat during that time but a few hard biscuits, a little bacon, and three frozen chickens, and nothing but melted snow to drink. The bedstead was a home-made aifair built of pine boards. This we cut up and used for fuel and slept on the dirt floor. The storm was so tei^ific that it was im- possible to get to the well, fifteen feet from the doby. We be- came so thirsty from the snow water that Doc thought he would try to get to the well. He took a rope and pistol, tied the rope around his waist and started for the well. His instructions were that if I heard the pistol I was to pull him in. After a very short time the pistol report came and I pulled and pulled and Doc came tumbling in without pistol or bucket. It was so cold he had nearly frozen his hands. Thursday was clear and beautiful. One of the persons from Mullen's, having gone to town, reported that we had left there Tuesday afternoon. On account of this report a searching party was sent out to look for us. Another item of interest was the Pawnee and Sioux massacre on August 5, 1873. It w^as the custom of the Pawnees, who were friendly and were located on a reservation near Columbus, Nebraska, to go on a fall hunt for buffalo meat for their winter use. The Sioux, who were on the Pine Bluff reservation, had an old grudge against the Pawnees and knew when this hunt took place. The Pawnees made Plum Creek their starting point across the country southwest to the head of the Frenchman 60 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES river. They camped about ten miles northwest of Culbertson, a town on the B. & M. railroad. The camp was in the head of a pocket which led from a tableland to the Republican river. The Sioux drove a herd of buffalo on the Pawnees while the lat- ter were in camp. Not suspecting danger the Pawnees began to kill the buffalo, when the Sioux came up, taking them by sur- prise. The Pawnees, being outnumbered, fled down the caiion. The Sioux followed on either bank and cross-fired them, killing and wounding about a hundred. I was sent by the government with Mr. Longshore, the Indian agent of Columbus, and two guides to the scene of the massacre, which was about one hun- dred and forty miles southwest of Plum Creek, for the purpose of looking after the wounded who might have been left behind. We made this trip on horseback. The agent had the dead buried and we followed up the wounded. We found twenty-two at Arapahoe and ten or fifteen had left and started on the old Fort Kearny trail. We brought the twenty-two wounded to Plum Creek, attended to their wounds and then shipped them in a box car to the reservation at Columbus. My first trip to Wood river valley twenty miles north, was to attend James B, Mallott, one of the first settlers. They were afraid to let me go without a guard but I had no fear of the In- dians, so they gave me a belt of cartridges and a Colt's revolver. Finally MacColl, the county clerk, handed me a needle gun anjd commanded me to get back before dark. I started on horseback with this arsenal for Wood river and made the visit, but on my return I stopped to let the horse rest and eat bluestem. Soon the horse became frightened and began to paw and snort. On looking back toward the divide, I saw three Indians on horseback were heading my way. We were not long in getting started. I beat them by a mile to the valley, arriving safely at Tucker's farm on Buffalo creek. The Indians did not follow but rode along the foothills to the west. A party of four or five from Tucker's was not long in giving chase, but the Indians had disappeared in the hills. A little later, Anton Abel, who lived a mile north of town, came in on the run and stated that a file of eight or ten Indians, with scalp sticks waving, were headed south a half mile west of town. A number mounted their horses and gave chase to the riv- er where the Indians crossed and were lost sight of. We never suffered much loss or injury from the Indians. Many scares were PLUM CREEK (LEXINGTON), NEBRASKA 61 reported, but like the buffalo after 1874-75, they were a thing: of the past in our county. My practice for the first ten or twelve years among the sick and injured, covered a field almost unlimited. I was called as far north as Broken Bow in the Loup valley, fifty miles, east to Elm Creek, Buffalo county, twenty miles, west to Brady Island, Lincoln county, thirty-five miles, and south to the Re- publican river. Most of the time there were no roads or bridges. The valley of the Platte in Dawson county is now the garden spot of the state. As stated before the settlement of 1872 was on the extreme edge of the frontier. Now we have no frontier. It is progressive civilization from coast to coast. I have prac- ticed my profession for over forty years continuously in this state, and am still in active practice. I have an abiding faith that I shall yet finish up with an airship in which to visit my patients. EARLY RECOLLECTIONS By C. Chabot After repeated invitations from my old boyhood companion, Dr. Bancroft, to visit him in his new home in western Nebraska, I left Philadelphia and arrived in Omaha the early part of April, 1878. Omaha at that time did not impress me very favorably. After buying my ticket to Plum Creek (in those days you could only buy a ticket to Omaha) the next thing in order was to get in line and have my trunk checked, and witness baggage "smashers" demolish a few trunks, then coolly offer to rope them at twenty-five cents each. Our train left at 11 a. m. and arrived in Plum Creek at 11 p. m., good time for those days. The train left with all seats occupied and some passengere stand- ing. Everybody was eager to see the great prairie count^J^ We expected to see Indians and buffalo, but only a few jack rabbits appeared, which created quite a laugh, as it was the first time any of us had ever seen one run. After we had trav- eled about twenty miles, "U. P. Sam," as he called himself, came into our car and treated us to a song of his own composition. In his song he related all the wondei*s of the gi'eat Union Pacific railroad and the country between Omaha and Ogden. I saw him two years later in Dawson county, playing the violin at a countiy dance, and singing songs about different persons at the gathering. All you had to do was to give him a few points as to a man 's disposition and habits with a few dimes and he would have the whole company laughing. "We stopped at Grand Island for supper, and in due time ar- rived in Plum Creek. Dr. Bancroft was waiting for me and after being introduced to many of his western friends, we retired for the night. Next morning feeling the necessity of visiting a barber shop, I asked the doctor if there was a barber shop in town. Judging from the accommodations at the hotel I had my doubts. "We have a good barber in to^vn," he replied, "but I will go with you." On arriving at the corner of what is now Main and Depot streets we entered a building which I 62 PLUM CREEK (LEXINGTON), NEBRASKA 63 discovered to be a saloon. I protested, but before I had had time to say much, the doctor asked the barkeeper where Ed. (the barber) was. ''Why, he has gone south of the river to plaster a house," was the reply. Then I thought "what kind of a country have I come to, barber and plasterer the same per- son. " Then my mind wandered back to the far East where I saw a comfortable bath room, and I thought "What can the doc- tor see in this country to deny himself all the comforts of home ? ' ' Before I had time to recover from my reveries, I was surround- ed by cowboys who insisted that I drink with them. I protested and if it had not been for Dr. Bancroft I suppose they would have made me dance to the music of their six shooters or drink, but as I was a friend of "Little Doc" (as they called him) that was sufficient and the tenderfoot was allowed to leave. Then and only then I saw in the northwest corner of the room the barber's chair. I accompanied Dr. Bancroft on many drives over the country going as far north as the Loup and Dismal rivers. We went several times south to Arapahoe; in fact it was but a short time before I was acquainted with most all the settlers in Dawson and adjacent counties. The population at that time was hardly 2,000 in Dawson county. In a very short time I began to feel more at home. The hospitality of the people was something I had never dreamed of; the climate and good fresh air so in- vigorating that I soon adjusted myself to surrounding condi- tions, and before I had been here a month I decided to cast my lot with the rest of the new settlers and became one of them. While I have had many ups and downs I cannot say that I regret having done so. When I look back and think of the many friends I made in the early days and how we stood hand in hand in our adversities as well as in our good fortunes, I cannot help feeling that we are more than friends and belong to one big family. RECOLLECTIONS OF THE FIRST SETTLER OF DAWSON COUNTY By Mrs. Daniel Freeman I came from Canada to Leavenworth, Kansas. Mr. Freeman was a freighter to Pike's Peak, but was not always successful. He spent $4,000 on one train and came back with only a team of oxen and a team of ponies. The next spring, 1862, I bought a stage-coach and using the pony team, I took my three children, the youngest only two months old, and drove all the way to Nebraska. My husband was there and had started a little store just across from the pony express station on Plum creek. He bought buffalo hides of the Indians and shipped them east. The buffalo were in easy reach and we had fresh meat every day. We had a big sign w^ith the word "Bakery" on it. I baked a hundred pounds of flour every day. I would make yeast bread over night and bake it in the forenoon, and make salt-rising in the morning and bake it in the afternoon. We got St. Louis flour that the freighters brought from Denver when they came back. I sold my bread for fifty cents a loaf and made as much as thirty dollars a day. I made cheese, too. We had seventy- five head of cows and milked twenty-five. We would take a young calf and let it fill its stomach with its mother's milk, then kill it. Then we took the stomach and washed and wiped it and hung it up on a nail to dry. When it was perfectly dry we would put it away carefully in a cloth and used it for rennet to make the cheese. I would put in a little piece of it in new milk and it would form a solid curd. My husband made me a press and a mold. I got twenty-five cents a pound for my cheese, and sold lots of it. I got up fine meals and charged two dollars a meal. The people were glad to pay it. There was plenty of firewood. The trees drifted down the river and we piled the wood up on the islands, but aher the settlers came they would steal it. There was no need of anybody going hungry those days, for anyone could kill a buffalo. One day a herd of thirty came within ten feet of our door, and our cows went away with 64 FIRST SETTLER OF DAWSON COUNTY 65 them. The children and I walked three miles before we came up to the cows and could get them back home. We were near the river and it was not far down to water. We dug holes in the ground and sunk five salt barrels. The water came up in these and we always had plenty of water. Sometimes we dipped the barrels dry, but they would be full the next morning. There wasn't a pump in the country for years. The people who kept the Pony Express station were named Humphries. These stations were about fifty miles apart. There would be lots of people at the station every night, for after the Indians became troublesome, the people went in trains of about a hundred wagons. There were many six oxen teams. The Indians never troubled anybody until the whites killed so many buffalo and wasted so much. There were carcasses all over the prairies. The Indians used every part, and they knew this great slaughter of the buffalo meant starvation for them, so they went on the warpath in self-defense. They would skulk on the river bank where the trail came close, and would rush up and attack the travelers. The soldiers were sent out as escorts and their families often went with them. One night at Plum Creek Pony Express station twin babies were bom to the lieutenant and wife. I went over in the morning to see if I could help them, but they were all cared for by the lieutenant. He had washed the babies and had the tent in order. I do not remember his name now. We often saw tiny babies with their mothers lying in the wagons that came by. They would be wrapped up, and looked very comfortable. Water was so scarce that they had to pay for enough to wash the babies. Brigham Young made trip after trip with foreign people of all kinds but blacks. Most of these could not speak English, and I don't think Brigham bought any water for them, as they were filthy dirty. Brigham was a great big fat man, and he kept himself pretty neat. He made just about one trip a year. One company of these immigrants was walking through, and the train was a couple of miles long. They went south of the river on the Oregon trail. There was no other road then. On August 8, 1864, the Sioux people killed eleven men at 11:00 o'clock in the morning, on Elm creek. I was afraid to stay on our ranch, so I took the children and started to Fort Kearny. On the way we came to the place of the massacre. 66 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES The dead men were lying side by side in a long trench, their faces were covered with blood and their boots were on. Three women were taken prisoners. I heard that there were two children in the party, and that they were thrown in the grass, but I looked all around for them and didn't find any signs of them. Friends of these people wrote to Mr. E. M. F. Leflang, to know if he could locate them. The Indians never troubled us except to take one team during this war, but I was always afraid when I saw the soldiers coming. They would come in the store and help themselves to tobacco, cookies, or anything. Then the teamsters would swing their long black-snake whips and bring them down across my chicken's heads, then pick them up and carry them to camp. I think the officers were the most to blame, for they sold the soldiers' rations, and the men were hungry. When the Union Pacific railroad was first built we lived on our homestead north of the river and the town was started on our land. We had the contract to supply the wood for the en- gines. They didn't use any other fuel then. We hired men to cut the wood on Wood river where Eddyville and Sumner are now. I boarded the men in our new big house across from the depot in old Pliun Creek. The store was below and there was an outside stairway for the men to go up. That summer Mr. Freeman was in Washington, Philadelphia, and New York talk- ing up this country. Mr. Freeman was the first county clerk and his office was upstairs over the store. We rented some of the rooms to newcomers. We did a big business until the rail- road moved the town to their section, a mile west. Mr. Freeman kept on trapping, and finally was drowned near Deadwood, South Dakota. I stayed by Dawson county and raised my family and they all are settled near me and have good homes. EARLY DAYS IN DAWSON COUNTY By Lucy R. Hewitt Mr. and Mrs. Thomas J. Hewitt, in June, 1873, journeyed from Forreston, Illinois, to Plum Creek, Nebraska. Their ob- ject was to take advantage of the offer the government was mak- ing to civil war soldiers, whereby each soldier could obtain one hundred and sixty acres of land. They stopped at Grand Island and Kearney, but at neither place could they find two adjoining quarter sections, not yet filed on. They wanted two, for my grandfather, Rockwood, who lived with us was also a soldier. At Plum Creek, now Lexington, they were able to , obtain what they wanted but it was six miles northwest of the ^ station. Plum Creek at that early date consisted of the depot. The town was a mile east and when my parents arrived at Plum i. Creek, they were obliged to walk back to the town, in order to find lodging for the night. Rooms seem to have been scarce for they had to share theirs with another man and his wife. They found a place to eat in the restaurant owned by Mr. and Mrs. E. D. Johnson. In August of the same year, they made a second trip to Ne- braska, this time with wagon and carriage, bringing with others a carpenter who built their house upon the dividing line of the two homesteads. This house had the distinction of being the first two-story house in the neighborhood. All the others were one-story, because the settlers feared the high winds that occa- sionally swept over the prairies. For a few months it was the farthest away from town. In the three months between the two trips the town had moved to the depot, and had grown from nothing to a village of sixty houses and stores. The Johnsons had brought their restaurant and placed it upon the site where a little later they built a hotel called the Johnson house. Mr. T. Martin had built the first hotel which he named the Alhambra. I have a very faint recol- lection of being in this hotel when the third trip brought the 67 68 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES household goods and the family to the new home. It was in December when this last journey was taken, and great was the astonishment of the older members of the family to see the ground covered with a foot of snow. They had been told that there was practically no winter in Nebraska, and they had be- lieved the statement. They found that the thermometer could drop almost out of sight with the cold, and yet the greater part of many winters was very pleasant. My father opened a law office in the town and T. L. Warring- ton, who taught the first school in the village, read law with him, and kept the office open when the farm required attention. The fields were small at first and did not require so very much time. The first exciting event was a prairie fire. A neighbor's fam- ily was spending the day at our farm and some other friends also came to call. The day was warm, no wind was stirring until about 4 o'clock, when it suddenly and with much force blew from the north and brought the fire, which had been smold- ering for some days in the bluffs to the north of the farm, down into the valley with the speed of a racing automobile. We children were very much frightened, and grandmother who was sick with a headache, was so startled she forgot her pain — did not have any in fact. Mother and Mrs. Fagot, the neighbor's wife, were outside loosening the tumble weeds and sending them along with the wind before the fire could catch them. In that way they saved the house from catching fire. My father, who had seen the fire come over the hills, as he was driving from town, had unhitched the horses and riding one of them as fast as possible, reached home in time to watch the hay stacks. Three times they caught fire and each time he beat it out with a wet gunny sack. I think this happened in March, 1874. That same year about harvest time the country was visited by grasshoppers. They did considerable damage by nipping off the oat heads before the farmers could finish the reaping. My aunt who was visiting us suggested that the whole family walk through the potato field and send the hoppers into the grass beyond. It was a happy thought, for the insects ate grass that night and the next day a favorable wind sent them all away. The worst grasshopper visitation we had was in July, 1876. One Sunday morning father and mother and I went to town to EARLY DAYS IN DAWSON COUNTY 69 church. The small grain had been harvested and the com all along the way was a most beautiful, dark green. When we were about a mile from town a slight shade seemed to come over the sun ; when we looked up for the cause, we saw millions of grass- hoppers slowly dropping to the ground. They came down in such numbers that they clung two or three deep to every green thing. The people knew that nothing in the way of com or gardens could escape such devastating hordes and they were very much discouraged. To add to their troubles, the Presby- terian minister that morning announced his intention to resign. He, no doubt, thought he was justified. I was pretty small at that time and did not understand what it all meant, but I do know that as we drove home that after- noon, the cornfields looked as they would in December after the cattle had fed on them — not a green shred left. The asparagus stems, too, were equally bare. The onions were eaten down to the very roots. Of the whole garden, there was, in fact, noth- ing left but a double petunia, which grandmother had put a tub over. So ravenous were the pests that they even ate the cotton mosquito netting that covered the windows. In a day or two when nothing remained to eat, the grasshop- pers spread their wings and whirred away. Then grandfather said, ''We will plant some beans and turnips, there is plenty of time for them to mature before frost." Accordingly, he put in the seeds and a timely rain wet them so that in a very few days they had sprouted and were well up, when on Monday morning, just two weeks and one day from the time of the first visitation, a second lot dropped down and breakfasted off grandfather's beans. It was too late in the season then to plant more. My mother had quite a flock of turkeys and a number of chickens. They were almost dazed at the sight of so many per- fectly good insects. They tried to eat them all but had to give up the task. They ate enough, however, to make themselves sick. This time I believe the grasshoppers stayed several days. They seemed to be hunting some good hard ground in which to lay their eggs. The following spring the warm days brought out millions of little ones, which a prairie fire later destroyed. The com crop having been eaten green and the wheat acreage being rather small, left many people with nothing to live on 70 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES during the winter. Many moved away and many of those who could not get away had to be helped. It was then that Dawson county people learned that they had good friends in the neighboring states for they sent carloads of food and cloth- ing to their less fortunate neighbors. A good many homesteaders were well-educated, refined people from Pennsylvania, New York, and elsewhere. They were a very congenial company and often had social times together. They were for the most part young people, some with families of young children, others just married, and some unmarried. I remember hearing my mother tell of a wedding that she and father attended. The ceremony was performed at a private house and then the whole company adjourned to a large hall where everybody who wanted to, danced and the rest watched until the supper was served by Mr. and Mrs. Johnson in their new hotel. The bride on this occasion was Miss Addie Bradley and the groom was W. H. Lingle, at one time county superin- tendent of public instruction. For some time after the starting of the town of Plum Creek there was no church edifice but there was a good sized school- house, and here each Sunday morning the people for miles around gathered. One Sunday the Methodist preacher talked to all the people and the next week the Presbyterian minister preached to the same congregation, until the courthouse was built, and then the Presbyterians used the courtroom. I have heard the members say that they received more real good from those union services than they ever did when each denomination had a church of its own. The Episcopalians in the community were the most enterprising for they built the first church, a little brick building that seated one hundred people. It was very plainly furnished, but it cost fifteen hundred dollars, due to the fact that the brick was brought from Kearney and freight rates were high. It stood on the site of the present modem building and was built in 1874. My grandfather, an ardent Churchman, often read the service when there was no rector in town. Speaking of the courthouse reminds me that it was not always put to the best use. I cannot remember when the following in- cident occurred, but I do remember hearing it talked of. A man who lived on the south side of the Platte river was accused of poisoning some flour that belonged to another man. He was EARLY DAYS IN DAWSON COUNTY 71 ordered arrested and two or three men, among them Charles Mayes, the deputy sheriff, were sent after him. He resisted arrest and using his gun, killed Mayes. He was finally taken and brought to town and put into the county jail in the base- ment of the courthouse. Mayes had been a very popular man and the feeling was veiy high against his slayer, so high, in- deed, that some time between night and morning the man was taken from the jail, and the next morning his lifeless body was found hanging at the back door of the courthouse. One of the pleasures of the pioneer is hunting. In the early days there was plenty of game in Dawson county, buffalo, elk, deer, antelope, jack rabbits, and several game birds, such as plover, prairie hen, ducks, geese, and cranes. By the time we arrived, however, the buffalo had been driven so far away that they were seldom seen. There was plenty of buffalo meat in the market, however, for hunters followed them and shot them, mostly for their hides. The meat was very good, always tender and of fine flavor. My father rushed into the house one day and called for his revolver. A herd of buffalo was racing across the fields towards the bluffs on the north. Father and some of the men with him, thought possibly they might get near enough to shoot one. But although he rode as fast as his pony could carry him, he could not get close enough and the herd, once it reached the hills was safe. The poor beasts had been chased for miles and were weary, but they did not give up. The cows huddled the calves together and pushed them along and the bulls led the way. Father learned afterward that his pony had been trained by the Indians to hunt ; and if he had given him the rein and allowed him to go at it in his own way, he would have gone so close that father could have shot one. But he did not know this until the buffalo were far away. PIONEEE JUSTICE By B. F. Krieb In the early history of Lexington, Nebraska, as in all western states, there was no crime committed more reprehensible than that of stealing a horse. One might kill a man and it would be over- looked or excused, but the offense of stealing a horse was a crime that nothing could atone for but the "wiping out" of the thief. And generally when the horse thief was caught the near- est tree or the upraised end of a wagon tongue was immediately brought into use as a gallows upon which the criminal was duly hanged without the formalities of courts or juries. It was amply sufficient to know that the accused had stolen a horse, and it mattered but little to whom the horse belonged or whether the owner was present to take a hand in the execution. The culprit was dealt with in such manner that he never stole another animal. This sentiment prevailed among the first settlers of Dawson county, as was shown in 1871, shortly after the organization of the county. Among the officials of the county at that time was a justice of the peace, a sturdy, honest man, who had been a resident of the county several years before it was organized. One day in 1871 a half-breed Sioux came riding from the east into Plum Creek (as Lexington was then called). The Indian stopped in the town and secured a meal for himself and feed for his horse. While he was eating, two Pawnee warriors arrived at the sta- tion on a freight train, from the east. They at once hunted up the sheriff, a broad-shouldered Irishman named John Kehoe, and made complaint that the half-breed Sioux had stolen a horse from one of them and had the animal in his possession. Com- plaint was formally made and a warrant issued for the half- breed's arrest upon the charge of horse-stealing, the warrant being issued by the aforesaid justice of the peace. The Sioux was at once taken in custody by the sheriff and brought before the justice. One of the Pawnees swore the horse the half-breed rode when he entered the town was his property, 72 PIONEER JUSTICE 73 and the other Pawnee upon oath declared he knew it was. The prisoner denied the statement made by the Pawnees and vehe- mently declared the animal was his property ; that he came by it honestly, and that the Pawnee had no title whatever in the horse. There was no jury to hear and judge the evidence, and the justice was compelled to decide the case. He had had some ex- perience with, redskins, and entertained but small regard for any of them, but as the preponderance of the evidence was against the Sioux, he decided the latter was guilty, and after a short study of the matter sentenced the culprit to be hanged. There were no lawyers in Plum Creek at that time, a con- dition that has not existed since, and each side did its own talk- ing. The Sioux at once filed a vigorous complaint against the sentence, but was ordered by the court to keep still. Realizing he had no chance, he became silent, but some of the citizens who were present and listening to the trial, interposed objections to the strenuous sentence, and informed the court that "as we are now organized into a county and have to go by law, you can't sentence a man to hang fer stealin' a hoss." This staggered the justice somewhat and he again took the matter under advisement, and shortly after made the following change in the sentence, addressing the prisoner as follows " , Dem laws don't let you get hanged, vich iss not right. You iss one teef ; dat iss a sure ting, and I shust gif you fifteen minutes to git out of dis state of Newbrasky. " The Pawnee secured possession of the horse, but whether it belonged to them or not is questionable, and hit the eastern trail for the "Pawnee house," while the Sioux warrior hastily got himself together and made a swift hike toward the setting sun and safety. A GOOD INDIAN By Mrs. Clifford Whittaker The late John H. MacColl came to Dawson county in 1869 to benefit his health, but shortly after reaching here he had an attack of mountain fever, that left his lower limbs paralyzed. The nearest medical aid he could get was from the army sur- gean at Fort McPherson, forty miles to the west. He made a number of trips to attend Mr. MacColl, and finally told him that he would never be any better. An old Indian medicine man happened along about that time and he went to see Mr. MacColl. By curious signs, gesticulations, and grunts, he made Mr. Mac- Coll understand that he could cure him and that he would be back the next day at the rising of the sun. True to his word, he came, bringing with him an interpreter who explained to Mr. MacColl that the medicine man could cure him if he would sub- mit to his treatment. Mr. MacColl was desperate and willing to do almost anything, so he agreed. The patient was stripped and laid flat on a plank. The medicine man then took a saw- edged knife and made no less than a hundred tiny gashes all over his patient's body. This done he produced a queer herb, and began chewing it. Then he spit it in his hand, as needed, and rubbed it into each tiny wound. That was all, and in three days Mr. MacColl could stand alone, and in a week he could walk. This incident was told to me in 1910 by the sister. Laura Mac- Coll. 74 FROM MISSOURI TO DAWSON COUNTY IN 1872 By a. J. Porter I left southwest Missouri late in October, 1872, accompanied by my sister, and journeyed by team via Topeka, Kansas, to Nebraska. We spent our first night in Nebraska at Fairbury, November 8, 1872. Trains on the St. Joe and Grand Island railroad had just reached that point. After visiting a few days with the Carney families near Fair- mont we took the train for Plum Creek (now Lexington) and reached Kearney at 10 o'clock P. M. All rooms being occupied we sat in the office of the hotel till morning. None of the Union Pacific trains stopped at that place except to take mail. At 10 o'clock that night we got a train to Plum Creek, which place we reached at 12 o'clock. There being no hotel we stayed in the depot until morning, when we found our brother living on a homestead. During our stay I filed on land six miles northeast of Plum Creek. The next April I brought my family by wagon over the same route and reached Dawson county a month after the noted Easter storm of 1873. At that time we saw hundreds of hides of Texas cattle, that had perished in the storm, hanging on fences surrounding the stockyards at Elm Creek. We remained on our homestead until August, 1876, at which time we came to FiUmore county and bought the southwest quarter of section eleven in Madison township, which place we now own. 75 THE ERICKSON FAMILY By Mrs. W. M. Stebbins Charles J. Erickson left Sweden in 1864 and for two years lived in New York, Indiana, and Illinois. In 1866 he moved to Fort McPherson, Nebraska. He worked around the Fort until 1871 when he took a homestead nine miles east. The next year, he sent to Sweden for his family. They arrived at McPherson station — now Maxwell — on September 1, 1872. Mr. Erickson died in April, 1877. The family resided on the old homestead until 1910, when they moved to Gothenburg, Nebraska. The sons, Frank and John Erickson, who still reside in Nebraska, unite in the following statement: ''Coming to this part of the state at so early a date we have been eye witnesses to the development and transformation of the country from a bleak, wild prairie covered with blue stem grasses, upon which fed thousands of buffalo, deer, antelope, and elk. The Indians still controlled the country and caused us to have many sleepless nights. "In those early days we always took our guns with us when we went away from home, or into the field to work. Several times we were forced to seek shelter in the Fort, or in some home, saving our scalps from the Indians by the fleetness of our ponies. But how changed now. "One of our early recollections is the blackened posts and poles along the old Oregon trail. As we gazed down the trail these looked like sentinels guarding the way, but we soon learned they were the poles of the first telegraph line built across Ne- braska. It extended from Nebraska City to Fort Laramie, Wy- oming. When the Union Pacific railroad was built through here — on the north side of the river — in 1866, the telegraph line followed and the old line on the south side of the Platte w^as abandoned. The old poles were of red cedar taken from the canons and were all burned black by the prairie fires. They soon disappeared, being used by the Indians and the emigrants for firewood. The old trail and telegraph line crossed our farm 76 THE ERICKSON FAMILY 77 and only a few years ago we dug out of the ground one of the stubs of a cedar telegraph pole about two feet in diameter and six feet long, and there are still more of these old stubs in our fields. "In the early seventies the most prominent ranches in this section were Upper 96 and Lower 96. These ranches had first been the relay stations of the old Wells Fargo Express Company. At each of these may be seen well preserved cedar log buildings still in use built by this company when they first established their express business across the plains in the middle of the last century. On the advent of the Union Pacific, the Wells Fargo Express Company abandoned these stations and they became the property of the 96 Ranch. Although they have passed through the hands of several different owners they have always retained their names of Upper 96 ranch and Lower 96 ranch. "The canons leading into the hills from the south side of the river are named from the early ranches along the valley near the mouths of the caiions; Conroy from Conroy's ranch, Jeffrie from Jeffrie's ranch, Gilman from Oilman's ranch, and Hiles from Hiles' ranch. An exception to the above is the Dan Smith canon which is named after Dan Smith in memory of the tragedy with which his name is connected. Dan Smith and wife were working at the Lower 96 ranch in 1871. Mrs. Smith wished to attend a ball to be given by the officers at Fort Mc- Pherson and wanted her husband to go with her, but he being of a jealous disposition refused to go. She mounted her horse and started to go alone when he called to her to come back and take his gun to protect herself from the Indians. She turned around and started back toward him. He drew his gun and fired, killing her instantly. She was buried at the Lower 96 ranch and until a few years ago her grave was kept green. After shooting his wife, Dan Smith mounted her horse and rode away into the hills to the south. The soldiers at the Fort twenty-five miles away were notified and the next day they came to hunt for the mur- derer. They surrounded him in a caiion in the hills and there shot him to death leaving his body a prey for buzzards and wolves. The canon to this day is called Dan Smith Caiion and through it is the main road leading from Gothenburg to Far- nam, Nebraska." THE BEGINNINGS OF FREMONT By Sadie Irene Moore Fremont was named for John C. Fremont, who was a candi- date against Buchanan for president. The first stakes were set August 23, 1856, the boundaries being finished three days later. "The first habitation of any sort, was constructed of poles sur- rounded by prairie grass. It was built and owned by E. H. Barnard and J. Koontz, in 1856. and stood upon the site of the present Congregational church.'' In the autumn of 1856, Rob- ert Kittle built and owned the first house. A few weeks later his house was occupied by Rev. Isaac E. Heaton, wife and two daughters, who were the fii*st family to keep house in Fremont. Alice Flor, born in the fall of 1857, was the first child born in Fremont. She is now Mrs. Gilkerson, of Wahoo. The first male child born in Fremont was Fred Kittle. He was bom in March, 1858, and died in 1890. On August 23, 1858, occurred the first marriage. The couple were Luther Wilson and Eliza Turner. The first death was that of Seth P. Marvin, who was accidentally drowned in April, 1857, while crossing the Elkhorn seven miles northeast of Fremont. The Marvin home was a mile and a quarter west of Fremont and this house was the rendezrv'ous of the parties who laid out Fremont. Mr. Marvnu was one of the town company. The first celebration of the Fourth of July was in 1857. Rob- ert Kittle sold the first goods. J. G. and Towner Smith con- ducted the first regular store. In 1860, the first district school was opened with Miss McNeil teacher. Then came Mary Heaton, now Mi-s. Hawthorne. Mrs. Margaret Turner, followed by James G. Smith, conducted the first hotel situated where the First Na- tional bank now is. This was also the "stage house," and here all the tradei-s stopped en route from Omaha to Denver. In the evening the old hotel resounded with the music of violin and the sound of merry dancing. Charles Smith conducted a drug store where Holloway and Fowler now are. A telegraph line was es- tablished in 1860. The first public school w^as held in a building 78 Monument at Fremont, Nebraska, marking the Overland Emigrant Trails or California Road Erected by Lewis-Clark Chapter, Daughters of the American Eevolution THE BEGINNINGS OF FREMONT 79 owned by the Congregational church at the corner of Eighth and D streets. Miss Sarah Pneuman, now Mrs, Harrington, of Fre- mont, was the teacher. When court convened, school adjourned, there being no courthouse. In three years the school had grown from sixteen to one hundred pupils, with three teachers. The first public schoolhouse was built at the comer of Fifth and D streets. In 1866 the Union Pacific was built. The first bank was established in 1867. The Tribune, the first newspaper, was published July 24, 1868. "The Central School" was built in 1869 and the teacher, in search of truant boys, would ascend to the top, where with the aid of field glass, she could see from the Platte to the Elkhorn. To-day, can be seen on the foundations of this old landmark, the marks of slate pencils, which were sharpened by some of our middle aged business men of to-day. Mrs. Cynthia Hamilton, of Fremont, gives an interesting ac- count of the early days. In June, 1857, she, with her husband, Mr. West, their daughter, Julia, Mrs. West's brother, the late Wilson Reynolds, and Mi*s. Reynolds, reached the few dwellings then comprising Fremont, after an eighteen or nineteen days trip in moving wagons from Racine, Wisconsin. They first stopped at the house of Robert Kittle, corner Military and Broad streets. This house was made from trees grown on the bluffs southwest of town, and had a red cedar shingle roof, the shingles shaved from logs floated down the Platte. After two days, they all moved to a log house in ' ' Pierce 's Grove. ' ' While living here, Mrs. Hamilton tells of hearing a great commotion among the tinware and upon investigation, found it was caused by a huge snake. In August of the same year they moved to their homestead, northwest of town, on the Rawhide. It is now known as the Rohr place. Here they remained two years. In winter the men made trips to the river for wood, and the women must either accompany them or remain at home, alone, far from another house. Thus, alone one day, she saw a large band of Indians approaching. The chief, picking up an axe from the wood pile, placed it under the window where she sat, indicating that she must take care of it, else some one might steal it. He then led his band northward. During all the residence on the homestead the three members of the family suffered continually from ague. In the fall of 1859, Mrs. West and her child re- turned to Wisconsin, where they remained ten months. During 80 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES her absence, Mr. West became a trader with the Indians and once in Saunders county as he was selling a quantity of meat on a temporary counter, the Indians became rather unruly. His white companions fled, and Mr. West seizing a club, went among the Indians, striking them right and left. For this, they called him a brave and ever afterwards called him "Buck Skadaway," meaning curly hair. When Mrs. West returned from Wiscon- sin, she came down the Mississippi and up the Missouri to Oma- ha, then a small town. From there they drove to Fremont, with horse and buggy, via Florence. Mr. West now bought a cotton- wood house, battened up and down. It consisted of two rooms, and stood on the site of the present residence of Thad Quinn. Wilson Reynolds bought two lots on the south side of Sixth street near the West home for twenty-five cents. Here he built a house made partly of black walnut taken from the banks of the Platte. In this house, was born our present postmaster, B. W. Reynolds. Mrs. Hamilton relates that the Indians were fre- quent callers at her home, one even teaching her to make "com coffee," "by taking a whole ear of corn, burning it black and then putting it in the coffee pot." Food consisted of vegetables, which were grown on the prairie sod, prairie chickens, small game, and corn bread. Butter was twenty-five cents a pound. Syinip was made by boiling down watermelon. Boiled beans were mashed to a pulp and used as butter. "Everything was high and when the money and supplies which we bought were exhausted it was hard to get more. ' ' Screens were unknown and the flies and mosquitoes were terrible. In the evenings everyone would build a smudge so that they could sleep. Not a tree was to be seen except those on the banks of the streams. Tall prairie grass waved like the ocean and prairie flres were greatly feared. Everyone began setting out trees at once. "In those days Broad street was noted as a racing road for the Indians and now it is a boulevard for automobiles," says Mrs. Hamilton. "Yes," she continued, "I well remember the Fourth of July celebration in 1857. There were about one hundred people in attendance. Miss McNeil was my little girl's first teacher and Dr. Rhustrat was our first physician." In 1861, after a short illness, Mr. West died. He was buried beside his infant daughter in the cemetery, which at that time stood near the present brewery. The bodies were afterward removed to THE BEGINNINGS OF FREMONT 81 Barnard's cemetery and later to Ridge. The following year, Mrs. West, with her daughter, Julia, returned to her parents at Racine, Wisconsin, where she remained for many years. In 1876, as the wife of William Hamilton she returned and made her home on one of her farms near the stockyards. Twenty -five years ago this place was sold for $100 per acre while the old homestead northwest of town brought $25 per acre in 1875. After selling the south farm she and Mr. Hamilton, who died a few years ago, bought the present home on Broad street. Ev- eryone should honor the early settlers, who left their eastern homes, endured hardships and privations that a beautiful land might be developed for posterity. They should be pensioned as well as our soldiers. And we, of the younger generation, should respect and reverence their memory. A GRASSHOPPER STORY By Margaret F, Kelly I came to Fremont, Nebraska, in May, 1870, and settled on a farm on Maple creek. In 1874 or 1875 we were visited by grass- hoppers. I had never formed an idea of anything so disastrous. When the "hoppers" were flying the air was full of them. As one looked up, they seemed like a severe snow storm. It must have been like one of the plagues of Egypt. They were so bad one day that the passenger train on the Union Pacific was stalled here. I went to see the train and the odor from the crushed insects was nauseating. I think the train was kept here for three hours. The engine was besmeared with them. It was a very wonderful sight. The rails and ground were covered with the pests. They came into the houses and one lady went into her parlor one day and found her lace curtains on the floor, almost entirely eaten. Mrs. George Turner said that she came home from town one day when the "hoppers" were flying and they were so thick that the horses could not find the barn. Mrs. Turner's son had a field of corn. W. R. Wilson offered him fifty dollars for it. When he began to husk it, there was no com there. A hired man of Mrs. Turner's threw his vest on the ground. When he had finished his work and picked up the vest it was completely riddled by the grasshoppers. I heard one man say that he was out riding with his wife and they stopped by a field of wheat where the "hoppere" were working and they could hear their mandibles working on the wheat. When they fiew it sounded like a train of cars in motion. Horses would not face them unless compelled. One year I had an eighty acre field of corn which was being cultivated. The men. came in and said the "hoppers" were taking the corn. They did not stay long, but when they left no one would have known that there had ever been any corn in that field. My broth- er from Califoniia came in 1876, On the way to the farm a thunder storm came up and w^e stopped at a friend's until it was over. My brother said, "I would not go through the ex- 82 A GRASSHOPPER STORY 83 perience again for $10,000, and I would not lose the experience for the same amount." The "hoppers" came before the storm and were thick on the ground. It was a wonderful experience. In those days we cut our small grain with "headers." The grain head was cut and fell into boxes on wagons. After din- ner one day, the men went out to find the grasshoppers in full possession. A coat which had been left hanging was completely destroyed. Gardens and field crops were their delight. They would eat an onion entirely out of the hard outer skin. I had a thirty acre field of oats which looked fine on Saturday. We could not harvest it then and on Monday it looked like an in- verted whisk broom. Some of the "hoppers" were three inches long. The backs were between brown and slate color and un- derneath was white. I think we received visits from them for five years. EARLY DAYS IN FREMONT By Mrs. Theron Nye From the year 1856 until the beginning of the civil war in 1861 the early settlers of Nebraska experienced nearly all of the ills and hardships incidental to a pioneer life. Fifty years have passed since then and to one having lived through those trying days — or to a stranger who merely listens to the almost incredulous tales of a past generation — there arises a question as to why any sane person or persons should desire to leave a land of comparative comfort and plenty for one of deprivation and possible starvation. The early settlers of Fremont were for the most part young people from the eastern states, full of ambition and hope. There is in the youthful heart a spirit of energy, of doing and daring in order to realize, if possible, dreams of a perhaps glorious fu- ture in which may be won honor and fame and wealth. Then again the forces of nature are never at rest and man, being a part of the great whole, must inevitably keep in step with the universal law. A few lines written for a paper several years ago give the first impression of the landscape which greeted the eyes of a stranger on entering the valley of the Elkhom river in 1858, April 26 : ' ' This is the picture as I see it plainly in retrospect — a country, and it was all a country, with a smooth, level, gray surface which appeared to go on toward the west forever and forever. On the north were the bluffs of the Elkhorn river, but the great Elkhorn Valley was a part of an unknown world. South of the little townsite of Fremont the Platte river moved sluggishly along to meet and be swallowed up in the great Mis- souri. Ten or twelve log cabins broke the monotony of the tree- less expanse that stretched far away, apparently to a leaden sky. My heart sank within me as I thought but did not say, ' How can I ever live in a place like this ? ' " And yet the writer of the above lines has lived in Fremont for forty-seven years. The histories of the world are chiefly men's histories. They 84 « EARLY DAYS IN FREMONT 85 are stories of governments, of religions, of wars, and only in ex- ceptional instances has woman appeared to hold any important place in the affairs of nations. From the earliest settlement of the colonies in the new world until the present time, women have not only borne with bravery and fortitude the greater trials of the pioneer life, but from their peculiar organization and tem- perament suffered more from the small annoyances than their stronger companions of the other sex. The experiences of the home and family life of the early settlers of the great West have never entered into the annals of history nor can a truthful story be told without them, but thus far no doubt the apparent neglect has been due to woman herself, who until quite recently has felt that she was a small factor in the world's affairs. In the beginning of the new life in Fremont women had their first introduction to the log cabin which was to be their home for many years. It was not as comfortable as it looks pictur- esque and romantic printed on paper. It was a story and a half high, sixteen by twenty feet in size. The logs were hewn on two sides, but the work performed by the volunteer carpenters of that time was not altogether satisfactory, consequently the logs did not fit closely but the open spaces between were filled with a sort of mortar that had a faculty of gradually dropping off as it dried, leaving the original holes and openings through which the winter winds whistled and Nebraska breezes blew the dirt. The houses were made of cottonwood logs and finished with Cottonwood lumber. The shingles warped so the roof somewhat resembled a sieve. The rain dripped through it in summer and snow sifted through it in winter. The floors were made of wide rough boards, the planing and polishing given by the broom, the old-fashioned mop, and the scrubbing brush. The boards warped and shrunk so that the edges turned up, making wide cracks in the floor through which many small articles dropped down into a large hole in the ground miscalled a cellar. It was hardly possible to keep from freezing in these houses in winter. Snow sifted through the roof, covering beds and floors. The piercing winds blew through every crack and crevice. Green cottonwood was the only fuel obtainable and that would sizzle and fiy in the stove while water froze standing under the stove. This is no fairy tale. 86 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES The summers were not much more pleasant. It must be re- membered that there were no trees in Fremont, nothing that afforded the least protection from the hot rays of a Nebraska sun. Mosquitoes and flies were in abundance, and door screens \j were unknown at that time. The cotton netting nailed over windows and hung over and around the beds was a slight pro- tection from the pests, although as the doors must necessarily be opened more or less no remedy could be devised that would make any perceptible improvement. To submit was the rule and the law in those days, but many, many times it was done under protest. The first floor was divided or partitioned off, by the use of quilts or blankets, into a kitchen, bedroom, and pantry. The chamber, or what might be called attic, was also partitioned in V the same way, giving as many rooms as it would hold beds. The main articles of food for the first two years consisted of pota- toes, com meal, and bacon. The meal was made from a variety of corn raised by the Indians and called Pawnee corn. It was very soft, white, and palatable. Wheat flour was not very plen- tiful the first year. Bacon was the only available meat. Oc- casionally a piece of buffalo meat was obtained, but it being very hard to masticate only served to make a slight change in the gravy, which was otherwise made with lard and fiour browned together in an iron frying pan, adding boiling water until it was of the right consistency, salt and pepper to suit the taste. This mixture was used for potatoes and bread of all kinds. Lard v was a necessity. Biscuits were made of flour, using a little com meal for shortening and saleratus for raising. Much of the com was ground in an ordinary coffee mill or in some instances rubbed on a large grater or over a tin pan with a perforated bottom, made so by driving nails through it. The nearest flour- ing mill was at Fort Calhoun, over forty miles away, which was then a three days' journey, taking more time than a trip to California at the present day. Nothing, however, could be sub- stituted for butter. The lack of meat, sugar, eggs and fruit, tea and coffee, was borne patiently, but wheat flour and corn meal bread with its everlasting lard gravy accompaniment was more than human nature could bear, yet most of the people waxed strong and flourished on bread and grease. Oh, where are the students of scientific research and domestic economy? EARLY DAYS IN FREMONT 87 There were possibly three or four cows in the settlement, and if there was, ever an aristocracy in Fremont, it was represented by the owners of said cows. In 1858 a little sorghum was raised. "Hope springs eternal in the human breast." Men, women, and children helped to prepare the stalks when at the right stage for crushing, which was done with a very primitive home-made machine. The juice obtained was boiled down to syrup, but alas, the dreams of a surfeit of sweetness vanished into thin air, for the result of all the toil and trouble expended was a production so nauseous that it could not be used even for vinegar. Wild plums and grapes grew in profusion on the banks of the rivers. There was much more enjoyment in gathering the fruit than in eating or cooking it. The plums were bitter and sour, the grapes were sour and mostly seeds, and sugar was not plen- tiful. The climate was the finest in the world for throat and lung troubles, but on the breaking up of the soil malaria made its ap- pearance and many of the inhabitants suffered from ague and fever. Quinine was the only remedy. There were neither physicians nor trained nurses here, but all were neighbors and friends, always ready to help each other when the occasion re- quired. In 1856, the year in which Fremont was born, the Pawnee Indians were living four miles south across the Platte river on the bluffs in Saunders county. They numbered about four thousand and were a constant source of annoyance and fear. In wdnter they easily crossed the river on the ice and in summer the water most of the time was so low they could swim and wade over, consequently there were few days in the year that they did not visit Fremont by the hundred. Weeks and months passed before women and children became accustomed to them and they could never feel quite sure that they were harmless. Stealing was their forte. Eyes sharp and keen were ever on the alert when they were present, yet when they left almost invariably some little article would be missed. They owned buffalo robes and blankets for which the settlers exchanged clothing which they did not need, jewelry, beads, and ornaments, with a little silver coin intermixed. The blankets and robes were utilized for bedding and many were the shivering forms they served to 88 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES protect from the icy cold of the Nebraska winters. In 1859 the government moved them to another home on the Loup river and in 1876 they were removed to Indian territory. Snakes of many kinds abounded, but rattlesnakes were the most numerous. They appeared to have a taste for domestic life, as many were found in houses and cellars. A little four- year-old boy one sunny summer day ran out of the house bare- footed, and stepping on the threshold outside the door felt some- thing soft and cold to his feet. An exclamation of surprise caused a member of the household to hasten to the door just in time to see a young rattlesnake gliding swiftly away. In several instances they were found snugly ensconced under pillows, on lounges, and very frequently were they found in cellars. For more than two years there was no way of receiving or sending mail only as one or another would make a trip to Omaha, which was usually once a week. In 1859 a stage line was put on between Omaha and Fort Kearny. No one can tell with what thankfulness and rejoicing each and every improvement in the condition and surroundings was greeted by the settlers. Dating from the discovery of gold in Colorado the pioneer was no more an object of pity or sympathy. Those who had planted their stakes and made their claims along the old military and Cali- fornia trail were independent. Many of the emigrants became discouraged and turned their faces homeward before getting a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. On their way home they sold loads of provisions for a song. The same fall the fertile soil of the Platte Valley, after two years of cultivation, responded to the demand of civilization. There was a market west for every bushel of grain and every pound of vegetables grown. So at least the patient and persevering ones received their reward. The sources of amusement were few, and yet all enjoyed the strange new life. A pleasant ride over the level prairie dotted with wild flowers, in any sort of vehicle drawn by a pair of oxen, was as enjoyable to the young people then as a drive over the country would now be in the finest turnout that Fremont pos- sesses. A dance in a room twelve by sixteen feet in a log cabin, to the music of the Arkansas Traveler played on one violin, was * * just delightful. ' ' A trip to Omaha once or twice a year was a rare event in the woman's life particularly. Three days were taken, two to drive in and out, and one to do a little trading EARLY DAYS IN FREMONT 89 (not shopping) and look around to view the sights. A span of horses, a lumber wagon with a spring seat in front high up in the air, was the conveyance. Women always wore sunbonnets on these occasions to keep their complexion fair. Several times in the earlier years the Mormons passed through here with long trains of emigrants journeying to the promised land, and a sorry lot they were, for the most of them were foot- sore and weary, as they all walked. The train was made up of emigrant covered wagons drawn by oxen, and hand carts drawn by cows, men and women, and dogs. It was a sight never to be forgotten. This is merely a short description of some of the trials and sufferings endured by the majority of the early settlers of this state. Many of the actors in the drama have passed away, a few only now remaining, and soon the stories of their lives will be to the coming generation like forgotten dreams. PIONEER WOMEN OF OMAHA By Mks. Charles H. Fisette Very few of those now living in Omaha can have any realiza- tion of the privations, not to say hardships, that were endured by the pioneer women who came here at an early date. A few claim shanties were scattered at distant intei"vals over this beau- tiful plateau, and were eagerly taken by those who were for- tunate enough to secure them. There was seldom more than one room in them, so that no servants could be kept, even if there were any to be had. Many an amusing scene could have been witnessed if the friends who had been left behind could have peeped in at the door and have seen the attempts made at cook- ing by those who never had cooked before. A description of one of the homes might be of interest. A friend of ours owned a claim shanty that stood on the hill west of what is now Saunders, or Twenty-fourth street, and he very kindly offered it to us, saying he would have it plastered and fixed up. We, of course, accepted it at once and as soon as pos- sible it was made ready and we moved into it late one evening, very happy to have a home. The house consisted of upstairs, downstairs, and a cellar, the upstairs being just high enough for one to stand erect in the center of the room, provided one was not very tall. The stairs were nothing but a ladder, home-made at that, in one corner of the room, held in place by a trunk. It was some time before I succeeded in going up and down grace- fully. I happened to be upstairs when our first caller came and in my effort to get down quickly caught my feet in one of the rungs of the ladder and landed on the aforementioned trunk so suddenly that it brought everyone in the room to their feet. It took away all the formality of an introduction. Mr. and Mrs. Hanscom lived half a mile north of the cottage just described, and had what seemed to others a house that was almost palatial. It contained three rooms, besides a kitchen, and had many comforts that few had in those days, including a cradle, which held a rosy-cheeked, curly-headed baby girl, who 90 Mrs. Charlotte F. Palmer First State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American Revohition. 1894-1895 PIONEER WOMEN OF OMAHA 91 has long since grown to womanhood and had babies of her own. Another home, standing where Creighton College now stands, was built by a nephew of the late Rev. Reuben Gaylord, but was afterwards occupied by Mr. and Mrs. W. N. Byers, who have for many years resided in Colorado. The Gaylords moved from there to a new home at Eleventh and Jackson streets. Their family consisted of three children: Mrs. S. C. Brewster, of Irv- ington, w^ho is still living at the age of 77 years; a son, Ralph Gaylord ; and an adopted daughter, Georgia, who has since died. A one story house built just in the rear of Tootle and Mauls' store on Farnam, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth streets, was kept as a boarding house by Kentucky "Wood and his wife. It was considered a high-toned boarding house, although the par- titions were made of unbleached cloth and the floor of the dining room was covered with sawdust. Judges Lockwood and Brad- ley, two of our territorial judges, boarded there and a dinner was given in their honor by the landlord. The invited guests included Governor and Mrs. Cuming, Colonel and Mrs. C. B. Smith, and Dr. Geo. L. Miller. That was the first dinner party ever given in Omaha. Governor and Mrs. Cuming then boarded at the Douglas house. Thirteenth and Harney streets, and their rooms were often filled with the elite of this young and growing city. Mi's. Cuming was very popular in the little gatherings which were frequently held. She was the leading light and was always ready and willing to assist in any good work. Wherever there was sickness she was sure to be found. Mrs. Thomas Davis was another who was always doing little acts of kindness. She was the mother of the late Mrs. Herman Kountze, who, at that time, was the only white little girl in Omaha. Still another who never turned anyone aw^ay from her door who needed help was Mrs. E. Estabrook. Mrs. A. D. Jones, our first postmaster's wife, lived at that time at what was called Park Wild, in a one story log and frame house, which was afterwards occupied by General G. M. Dodge, the distinguished soldier, so well and widely known to the whole country as the chief engineer of the Union Pacific railroad. Among others who were here were Mrs. Edwin Patrick and Mrs. Allen Root, also Mrs. T. G. Goodwill, who lived in the Kentucky Wood house that I have already mentioned. She afterwards built the brick house that still stands near the northwest comer 92 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES of Davenport street, facing south. It is an old landmark near Fifteenth street. One of the most prominent women of that day was Mrs. John M. Thayer, whose home at that time was said to have been the first civilized appearing home. It was plastered, clapboarded, and shingled. The entire community envied Mrs. Thayer her somewhat imposing residence. It was in very strong contrast, however, with the beautiful brick house Which General Thayer afterwards built and occupied for several years, on the north- east comer of Sixteenth and Davenport streets. Mrs. Samuel Rogers, Mrs. William Snowden, Mrs. Thomas 'Conner, Mrs. 0. B. Selden, Mrs. Hadley Johnson, and Mrs. Harrison Johnson were among the first women who lived in Omaha. Mrs. A. J, Poppleton may be classed among the num- ber, although at that time she was living in Council Bluffs, then called Kanesville, where she was one of the leading young ladies. The first hotel in Omaha, a log house, eighteen by twenty feet, one story high, was named the St. Nicholas. It was first occu- pied by the family of Wm. P. Snowden, and stood on the corner of Twelfth and Jackson streets in 1855. The Douglas house, a two story frame building, was erected at the southwest comer of Thirteenth and Harney streets. The rear part was made of Cottonwood slabs, and in the winter time it was said to have been very cold. It was the leading hotel and all the high-toned people stopped there. The Tremont house, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth streets, was built in 1856, and opened by Wm. F. Sweezy and Aaron Root. Mr. Sweezy is still living in Omaha. The Famham, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth on Harney, was built in 1858. The famous Herndon house was built in 1856 by Dr. G-eo. L. Miller and Lyman Richardson. The Ham- ilton, a brick building, was erected in 1856 by C. W. Hamilton, C. B. Smith, and H. M. Judson. The proprietors bought their furniture in St. Louis and brought it to Omaha by steamboat. The upper part of the house was one large bedroom with beds ranged against the walls. About once a week the furniture was all removed from this room and it was temporarily converted into a ballroom. A PIONEER FAMILY By Edith Erma Purviance Dr. Wm. Washington Wiley, with his wife, Gertrude Miranda Wiley, and their children, came to Nebraska July 6, 1857, and lived at Saratoga (now in Omaha) a year and a half. They came from Ohio in covered wagons, driving their cows along. It took two months to make the trip. They caught up with a company of Mormon emigrants when they reached Iowa City, Iowa, three or four hundred of whom camped along about five miles ahead of the Wiley family. They stopped at Florence a few weeks to buy provisions and teams to carry them across the plains to Utah. These Mormons had two-wheeled carts. These carts were provision carts drawn by hoth men and women. Mrs. Wiley was of Holland Dutch descent, and inherited the thrift and capability of her ancestors. She deserved great credit for her quick action in saving one victim from the Claim Club. This Claim Club was an organization of prominent Omaha busi- ness men. John Kelly, a nephew of Mrs. Wiley's sister, had a claim of one hundred sixty acres near Omaha. There were four wagonloads of men out looking for him to compel him to give them the papers showing his right to the land. The late Joseph Redman, of Omaha, lived near Mrs. Wiley, and when he saw the men coming for John Kelly he went to Mrs. Wiley and requested her to warn young Kelly, as she could get past the men, but he could not. Mrs. Redman went to Mrs. Wiley's house and took care of the three months' old baby and five other ch0dren, John Kelly was working at the carpenter's trade in Omaha, about three miles south of Mrs, Wiley's. All she had to ride was a stallion, of which she was afraid, and which had never been ridden by a woman. She rode slowly until out of sight of the wagonloads of men and then hit the horse every other jump. She made him run all the way, passing some Indians on the way, who looked at her wonderingly but did not try to stop her. After going to several places she finally located John Kelly. 93 94 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES He wanted to go to the ferry, but her judgment was better and she said they would look for him there the first thing, which they did. She took him on behind her and rode to the home of Jane Beeson, his aunt, who put him down cellar and then spread a piece of rag carpet over the trap door. The Claim Club men were there several times that day to look for him, but did not search the house. After dark he walked to Bellevue, twelve miles, and the next morning crossed the Missouri river on the ferry boat and went to Missouri, When his claim papers were returned from Washington he returned and lived on his land without any further trouble. He would have been badly beaten and probably killed had it not been for Mrs. Wiley's nerve and decision in riding a fractious horse to warn him of his danger. While Dr. and Mrs. Wiley resided at Omaha the territorial lawmakers disagreed, part of them going to Florence to make laws and part of them to Omaha, each party feeling it was the rightful law-making body of the territory. In December, 1859, the family crossed the Platte river on the ice and located on a farm in Cass county, three miles west of the Missouri river, about three miles southwest of the present town of Murray, although the old town of Rock Bluffs was their nearest town at that time. Dr. Wiley and the older children went on ahead with the household goods and live stock. Mrs. Wiley, with the small children, rode in a one-horse buggy. She did not know the way and there were no fences or landmarks to guide her. She had the ague so badly she could hardly drive the horse. A sack containing $1,800 in gold was tied around her waist. This was all the money they had, and they intended to use it to build a house and barn on their new farm. She objected to carrying so much money, but Dr. Wiley said it was safer from robbers with her than with him. In spite of her ill- ness and the difficulty in traveling in an unknown country a distance of thirty-five or forty miles, she reached the new home safely. She took off the sack of gold, threw it in a comer, and fell on the bed exhausted. They lived all winter in a log house of two rooms. There was a floor and roof, but no ceiling, and the snow drifted in on the beds. Most of the family were sick all winter. The next summer they built a frame house, the first in that locality, which caused the neighbors to call them "high toned." A PIOXEER FAMILY 95 Mrs. "Wiley bought a parlor set of walnut furniture, upholstered in green. Greneral "Worth, who had been a congressman, wrote to "Wash- ington, D. C, and got the commission, signed by Abraham Lin- coln, appointing Dr. "Wiley postmaster, the name of the post- office being Three Groves. They kept the postoffice eleven years. They kept the stage station five years. It was the main stop between St. Joseph and Omaha before the railroad went through. They had from ten to fifteen people to dinner one coach load. The stage coach was drawn by four horses, and carried both mail and passengers. The horses were changed for fresh ones at the Wiley farm. At first the meals were twenty-five cents; the last two years, fifty cents. This was paid by the passengers and not included in the stage fare. Shortly after the discovery of Pike's Peak and gold in Colo- rado, freighters, -svith big freight wagons of provisions drawn by six or eight oxen, stopped there over night. There were usually twelve men, who slept on the floor, paying eighteen dollars for supper, breakfast, and lodging. Mr. McComas and Mr. Majors (father of Col. Thomas J. Majors) each had freight wagons starting at Nebraska City and taking the supplies to Denver and Pike's Peak via Fort Kearny, Nebraska. "When the Union Pacific railroad was completed in 1869 the freighters had to sell their oxen and wagons, as they could not compete with the railroad in hauling freight. The Omaha, Pawnee, and Otoe Indians, when visiting other Indians, would stop at Dr. "Wiley's and ask for things to eat. Sometimes there would be fifty of them. An old Indian would peer in. If the shade was pulled down while he was looking in he would call the party vile names. If food was given him a dozen more Indians would come and ask for something. If chickens were not given them they helped themselves to all they found straying around. It would make either tribe angry to ask if they were going to visit any other tribe. The Pawnees would say, "Omaha no good"; the Omahas would say, "Pawnee no good." Mrs. TViley kept a copy of the Omaha Republican, published November 30, 1859. The paper is yellow with age, but well pre- served, and a few years ago she presented it to the State His- 96 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES torical Society. It is a four-page paper, the second and third pages being nearly all advertisements. It contains a letter written by Robert W. Furnas, ex-governor of Nebraska, and a long article about the late J. Sterling Morton. This was about the time Mr. Morton tried to claim the salt basin at Lincoln as a preemption, and wanted to locate salt works there. Mrs. Wiley always took a great interest in the development of the state; she attended the State Fair almost every year, spend- ing a great deal of time looking over the new machinery. Dr. Wiley died in 1887 and Mrs. Wiley in 1914. Mrs. Wiley lived to the age of 87 years. Little Erma Purviance, daughter of Dr. W. E. and Edith E. Purviance, of Omaha, is a great-granddaughter of Mrs. Wiley, and also a namesake. May she possess some of the virtue and intelligence of her ancestor. Note: Mrs. Wiley's two daughters, Araminta and Hattie, were students in the early years at Brownell Hall, then the only means of obtaining an education, as there were very few public schools. Some of the children and grandchildren still live on the lands taken by Dr. and Mrs. Wiley, and have always been among the well-to-do citizens of Cass county. Mrs. Edith Erma Purviance, the writer of the foregoing article, spent most of her girlhood with her grandmother, who sent her to the State University, where she made good use of her advantages. Other children of Mrs. Wiley were also uni- versity students or identified with the various schools of the state. Mrs. A. Dove Wiley Asch, youngest daughter of Mrs. Wiley, now occupies the old home, out of which so recently went the brave pioneer who made it of note among the early homes of the territory. — Harriett S. MacMurphy. THE BADGER FAMILY Lewis H. Badger drove with his parents, Henry L. and Mary A. Badger, from their home in Livingston county, Illinois, to Fillmore county, Nebraska. They had a covered emigrant wagon and a buggy tied behind. Lewis was twelve years old October 5, 1868, the day they crossed the Missouri river at Nebraska City, the nearest railroad station to their future home. The family stayed with friends near Saltillo while H. L. Badger came on with the horse and buggy and picked out his claim on the north side of Fillmore county, it being the northwest quar- ter of section 2, township 8, range 3, west of the sixth principal meridian. At that time the claims were taken near the river in order that water might be obtained more easily, and also to be near the railroad which had been surveyed and staked out in the southern edge of York county near the West Blue river. The Badger family came on to Lincoln, then a mere village, and stopped there. They bought a log chain, and lumber for a door; the window frames were hewed from logs. "When they reached the claim they did not know where to ford the river so they went on farther west to Whitaker's and stayed all night. There they forded the river and came on to the claim the next morning, October 20, 1868. There they camped while Mr. Badger made a dugout in the banks of the West Blue river, where the family lived for more than two years. The hollow in the ground made by this dugout can still be seen. In 1870 H. L. Badger kept the postoffice in the dugout. He received his commission from Postmaster General Creswell. The postoffice was known as West Blue. About the same time E. L. Martin was appointed postmaster at Fillmore. Those were the first postoffices in Fillmore county. Before that time the settlers got their mail at McFadden in York county. Mr. Badger kept the postoffice for some time after moving into the log house and after the establishment of the postoffice at Fairmont. In 1867 the Indians were all on reservations but by permission 97 98 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES of the agents were allowed to go on hunting trips. If they made trouble for the settlers they were taken back to the reser^^ations. While the Badgers were living in the dugout a party of about one thousand Omaha Indians came up the river on a hunting trip. Some of their ponies got away and ate some corn belong- ing to a man named Dean, who lived farther down the river. The man loved trouble and decided to report them to the agent. The Indians were afraid of being sent back to the reservation so the chief, Prairie Chicken, his brother, Sammy White, and sev- enteen of the other Indians came into the dugout and asked Mr. Badger to write a letter to the agent for them stating their side of the case. This he did and read it to Sammy White, the in- terpreter, who translated it for the other eighteen. It proved satisfactory to both Indians and agent. In August, 1869, while Mr. Badger was away helping a fam- ily named Whitaker, who lived up the river, to do some break- ing, the son, Lewis, walked to where his father was at work, leaving Mrs. Badger at home alone with her four-year-old daugh- ter. About four o'clock it began to rain very hard and con- tinued all night. The river raised until the water came within eighteen inches of the dugout door. The roof leaked so that it Mas almost as wet inside as out. Mr. Badger and Lewis stayed at the Whitaker dugout. They fixed the canvas that had been the cover of the wagon over the bed to keep Grandmother Whit- aker dry and the others sat by the stove and tried to keep warm, but could not. The next morning the men paddled down the rived to the Badger dugout in a wagon box. The wagon box was a product of their own making and was all wood, so it served the purpose of a boat. It should be explained that the reason the roofs of the dug- outs and log houses leaked was because of the material used in their constniction. Shingles were out of the question to these settlers of small means living one hundred miles from the rail- road. There were plenty of trees near the river, so the settlers hewed out logs for ridge poles, then placed willow poles and brush across for a support. On top of that they put dirt and sod. When it rained the water naturally soaked through. The roof would leak for several days after a big rain. The next dwelling place of the Badger family was a log house built on the south half of the quarter section. For some time THE BADOER FAMILY 99 they lived in the log house and kept their stock in the dugout stable on the river bank. Thus they were living during the great April storm of 1873, which lasted for three days. All of the draws and ravines, even the river, were packed full of snow that was solid enough to hold a man up. There was very little snow on the level, it all being in drifts in the low places. The Badgers had a corn field between the log house and the river. While the storm raged Lewis wrapped himself in a blanket, and by following the rows of com made his way to the dugout stable and fed the horses corn once each day. It was impossible to give them water. Henry L. Badger was commissioned by Governor Butler the first notary public in Fillmore county. Later he was appointed by acting Governor James, registrar of voters for the election to be held April 21, 1871, to elect officers for the new county. At that election he was elected both county clerk and county surveyor. In the late sixties when the county was first settled the coun- try abounded in buffalo, deer, antelope, elk, prairie chickens, wild geese, ducks, and turkeys. The muddy stream known as West Blue river was clear and the fish found in it were not of the same variety as those caught now. Wild plums grew in abundance along the river bank and were much larger and of finer quality than the wild plums of today. In those days glass jars for canning were not as plentiful as now, so they picked the plums late in the fall, put them in a barrel and poured water over them and kept them for winter use. Lewis Badger tells of going on buffalo hunts with his father and seeing herds of thousands of the big animals, and driving for ten hours through the herd. He has now an old silver half dime that he found in an abandoned stage station on the Oregon trail, when on a buffalo hunt. In early days the settlers did lots of trapping. The Indians were frequent visitors and one time an Indian went with Mr. Badger and his son to look at their traps. In one trap they found a mink. Mr. Badger remarked that they got a mink in that same trap the day before. The Indian said, ''Him lucky trap." The Indian would not steal but he wanted the lucky trap, so the next day that trap was gone and another in its 100 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES place. The Indian seemed to get the best of the bargain for it is a fact that they never caught a thing in the trap he left. Sammy and Luke White, brothers of chief Prairie Chicken of the Omahas, frequently visited the early settlei^s. Sammy could talk English and was a good interpreter. He told of a big Indian battle in the western part of the state wherein the Sioux and Cheyenne, and Omahas, Otoes, Poneas, and Pawnees all took part and fought for two days and only killed two In- dians, His brother, Prairie Chicken, killed one of the Indians and scalped him in the midst of the battle. For that act of bravery he was made a chief. After telling the story of his brother, when asked about himself, Sammy very modestly said, "Me 'fraid, me run." On one of Mr. Badger's hunting trips he killed a deer. When it was dressed Lewis was sent to the Whitaker dugout with a quarter of the meat. An Indian, Pawnee Jack, happened to be there at the time and it stormed so they had to keep him all night, much to their disgust. Evidently he enjoyed their hos- pitality, especially the venison, for when they started him on the next morning he inquired where the "papoose" lived that brought the "buckskin," meaning the venison. They told him and he made straight for the Badger dugout and the "buck- skin." It stormed so they were forced to keep him there two nights before sending him on. Although most painfully familiar to every early settler, no pioneer story is complete without the grasshoppers. They came in herds and droves and ate every green thing. For days great clouds of them passed over. The next year they hatched out in great numbers and flew away without hurting anything. Mr. Badger had a nice young orchard that he had planted and tended. The grasshoppers ate the leaves off the trees and as it was early in August they leaved out again and were frozen so they died. Snakes feasted on the hoppers. Since seeing a garter snake at that time just as full of grasshoppers as it could possibly be, Lewis Badger has never killed a snake or permitted one to be killed on his farm. He declared that anything that could make away with so many grasshoppers should be allowed to live. Many people asked for and received the so-called "aid for grasshopper sufferers." In this section of the country it THE BADGER FAMILY 101 seemed absolutely unnecessary as there had been harvested a good crop of wheat, previous to the coming of the hoppers. In 1871 the railroad was built through the county. That sea- son Lewis Badger sold watermelons, that he had raised, to the construction gang at work on the road. The town of Fairmont was started the same year. In those days the settlers would walk to town. It was nothing unusual for Mr. and Mrs. Badger and Lewis to walk to Fairmont, a distance of six miles. When the Badger family settled on their claim, they planted a row of Cottonwood trees around it. These trees have made a wonderful growth. In 1911 part of them were sawed into lum- ber. There are two especially large cottonwood trees on the farm. One measures twenty-six feet in circumference at the base and nineteen feet around five feet above the ground and runs up forty feet before it begins to branch out. The other is thirty-three feet around the base but branches into three trees four feet above the ground. Mrs. H. L. Badger was a witness of the first wedding in the county, that of Wm. Whitaker and Sabra Brumsey, which took place June 28, 1871. The ceremony was performed by the first county judge, Wm. H. Blaine, who stayed all night at the Badger home and attended the wedding the next day. Mrs. H. L. Badger died January 11, 1894, and Mr. Badger July 21, 1905. The son Lewis and family still own and farm the old homestead. FIRST WHITE SETTLER IN FILLMORE COUNTY The first settlement in Fillmore county, Nebraska, was made in 1866 by Nimrod J. Dixon, a native of Pennsylvania. He was married to Lydia Gilmore, who had previously filed on a home- stead adjoining his. Mr. and Mrs. Dixon continued to reside on their homestead until they moved to Fairmont, Nebraska, where they are now living, having lived on the farm forty years. Mr. and Mrs. Dixon were married February 28, 1867, at the home of Mrs. Dixon's father, Elias Gilmore, near Blue Vale. Mr. Dixon got the license at Nebraska City. From that time until the summer of 1868 they were the only settlers in the county and were seven or eight miles from the nearest neighbor. In relating her experiences Mrs. Dixon said: "I was afraid to stay alone, so when Mr. Dixon had to go away I went with him or my sisters stayed with me. At that time we had to go to Milford for flour and twenty-five miles to get a plow-lay sharp- ened. At such times Mr. Dixon would stay at my father's home near Blue Vale and help them two or three days with their breaking, in return for which one of the boys would come and help him. "The Indians visited us frequently and I was afraid of them. One time a number of them came and two entered the dugout and asked for flour. We gave them as much as we could spare, but they could see the flour sitting on a bench behind the door and wanted more. We refused, but they became very insistent, so much so that Mr. Dixon grabbed a black-snake whip that hung on the wall and started toward them. This show of resistance was all that was necessary. It proved to the Indians that Mr. Dixon was not afraid of them, so they gave him powder and shot to regain his friendship. "An Indian came in one day and gave me a lot of beads, then he wanted flour, which we gave him. He took it and held it out to me, saying, 'Squaw cook it, squaw cook it!' This I refused to do, so he said, ' Give me the beads, give me the beads. ' "My baby, Arthur, born Januaiy 9, 1869, was the first white 102 FIRST SETTLER IN FILLMORE COUNTY 103 child born in Fillmore county. I recall one time that I was home alone with the baby. An Indian came in and handed me a paper that said he had lost a pony. I assured him that we had seen nothing of the pony. He saw a new butcher knife that was lying on the table, picked it up, and finally drew out his old knife and held it toward me, saying, ' Swap, swap ! ' I said, 'Yes,' so he went away with my good knife, ' ' The worst fright I ever did have was not from Indians. My sister Minnie was with me and we were out of salt. Mr. Dixon said he would go across the river to Whitaker's and borrow some. We thought that he wouldn't be gone long so we stayed at home. While he was away a cloud came up and it began to rain. I never did see it rain harder. The river raised, and the water in the ravine in front of the dugout came nearly to the door. The roof leaked so we were nearly as wet indoors as we would have been out. The rain began about four o'clock in the afternoon. It grew dark and Mr. Dixon did not return. We thought that he would certainly be drowned in trying to cross the river. While we were in this state of suspense, the door burst open and a half-clad woman rushed in, saying, 'Don't let me scare you to death.' I was never so frightened in my life, and it was some time before I recognized her as my neighbor, Mrs. Fairbanks. "Mr. and Mrs. Fairbanks had gone to Whitaker's, who were coopers, to get some barrels fixed for sorghum, and left the chil- dren at home. When it rained they thought they must try to cross the river and get to their children. Mr. Dixon came with them. At first they tried to ride horses across, but the one Mrs. Fairbanks was riding refused to swim and threw her into the water, so she had to swim back. They were all excellent swim- mers, so they started again in a wagon box which those on land tried to guide by means of a line. With the aid of the wagon box and by swimming they succeeded in getting across. That was in the fall of 1869, "The only time I ever saw a buffalo skinned was when a big herd stayed a week or more on the south side of the river. Kate Bussard and I stood on the top of the dugout and watched the chase, and after they killed one we went nearer and watched them skin it." Mr. Dixon took his claim without seeing it. In October, 1866, V 104 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES he went to the land office and learned that he could then take a homestead of one hundred and sixty acres but the new law would soon go into effect providing that settlers could only homestead eighty acres. Mr. Dixon was afraid that he could not go and see the claim and get back to Nebraska City and file on it in time to get one hundred and sixty acres. In telling about it Mr. Dixon says, "I thought it would, indeed, be a poor quarter sec- tion that would not have eighty acres of farm land, so I took my chances. "In the year 1868, the first year that we had any crops plant- ed, it almost forgot to rain at all. The barle}^ was so short that it fell through the cradle. There were no bridges so we had to ford the river. It was hard to haul much of a load across be- cause the wagon would cut into the mud on the two banks while the sandy river bottom would stand a pretty good load. That difficulty I overcame by making bundles or sheaves of willow poles and placing them at the two banks and covering them with sand. Later the settlers made a bridge across the river near the homestead of H. L. Badger. This has ever since been known as the ' Badger Bridge. ' The first bridge was made of logs which we procured along the river. "I was making a hayrack of willow poles at the time of the total eclipse of the sun. It began to grow dark, the chickens went to roost, and it seemed that night was coming on. "The year 1869 was rainj^ and we raised good crops and fine potatoes that season. That was the year they were driving Texas cattle up to eat the northern grass and then ship them east over the Union Pacific railroad. The cattle stampeded, so they lost many of them and we saw them around for a year or more. "My first buffalo hunt was in 1867. The country seemed to be covered with great herds and the Indians were hunting them. Twenty of us started out with five wagons. There were Jake and Boss Gilmore, Jim Johnson, and myself in one wagon. We had only about three days' supplies with us, expecting to get buffalo before these were exhausted, but the Indians were ahead of us and kept the buffalo out of our range. Our party crossed the Little Blue at Deweese. Beyond there we found carcasses of buffalo and a fire where the Indians had burned out a ranch. Kealizing that it was necessary for us to take precautions, we FIRST SETTLER IN FILLMORE COUNTY 105 chose Colonel Bifkin our leader and decided to strike another trail and thus avoid the Indians if possible. We traveled toward the Republican river but found no track of either buffalo or Indians, so we turned around and followed the Indians. By that time our food supply was exhausted, but by good luck we shot two wild turkeys. "We were soon following the Indians so closely that we ate dinner where they ate breakfast and by night we were almost in sight of them. We thought it best to put out a guard at night. My station was under a cottonwood tree near a foot-log that crossed a branch of the Little Blue. I was to be relieved at eleven o'clock. I heard something coming on the foot-log. I listened and watched but it was so dark that I could see noth- ing, but could hear it coming closer; so I shot and heard some- thing drop. Colonel Bifkin, who was near, coming to relieve me, asked what I was shooting at. 'I don't know, perhaps an Indian; it dropped,' I replied. We looked and found merely a coon, but it did good service as wagon grease, for we had for- gotten that very necessary article. "The Indians kept the main herd ahead of them so we were only able to see a few buffalo that had strayed away. We went farther west and got two or three and then went into camp on the Little Blue. We always left a guard at camp and all of the fun came when Boss Gilmore and I were on guard so we missed it. The others rounded up and killed about twenty buffalo. One fell over the bluff into the river and it fell to our lot to get it out and skin it, but by the time we got it out the meat had spoiled. The water there was so full of alkali that we could not drink it and neither could the horses, so we started back, struck the freight road and followed it until we came to Deep Well ranch on the Platte bottom. We had driven without stopping from ten o'clock in the forenoon till two o'clock in the morning. We lay down and slept then, but I was awakened early by chick- ens crowing. I roused the others of our party and we went in search of something to eat. It had been eight days since we had had any bread and I was never so bread-hungry as then. We came to the Martin home about three miles west of Grand Island and although we could not buy bread, the girls baked biscuits for us and I ate eleven biscuits. That was the home of the two 106 NEBEASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES Martin boys who were pinned together by an arrow that the Indians shot through both of them while riding on one pony. "That morning I saw the first construction train that came into Grand Island over the Union Pacific railroad. If I re- member correctly it was in November, 1867. "We took home with us five wagonloads of buffalo meat. I did not keep any of the hides because I could not get them tanned. Mr. Gilmore got Indian women to tan a hide for him by giving them sugar and flour. They would keep asking for it and finally got aU that was coming to them before the hide was done, so they quit tanning, and Mr. Gilmore had to keep baiting them by giving, them more sugar and flour in order to get it done." Mr. and Mrs. Dixon have eight children, all living. They stiU own the original homestead that was their home for so many years. PIONEERING IN FILLMORE COUNTY By John R. McCashland In the fall of 1870, with Mrs. McCashland and two children, Addie and Sammy, I left Livingston county, Illinois, and drove to Fillmore county, Nebraska. We started with two wagons and teams. I had three good horses and one old plug. I drove one team and had a man drive the other until I became indignant because he abused the horses and let him go. Mrs. McCashland drove the second team the rest of the way. A family of neighbors, Thomas Roe's, were going west at the same time, so we were together throughout the journey until we got lost in the western part of Iowa. The road forked and we were so far behind we did not see which way Roe turned and so went the other way. It rained that night and a dog ate our supplies so we were forced to procure food from a settler. We found the Roe family the next evening just before we crossed the Missouri river, October 15, 1870. East of Lincoln we met a prairie schooner and team of oxen. An old lady came ahead and said to us, ' ' Go back, good friends, go back ! ' ' When questioned about how long she had lived here, she said, "I've wintered here and I've summered here, and God knows I've been here long enough." When Mrs. McCashland saw the first dugout that she had ever seen, she cried. It did not seem that she could bear to live in a place like that. It looked like merely a hole in the ground. We finally reached the settlement in Fillmore county and lived in a dugout with two other families until I could build a dugout that we could live in through the winter. That done, I picked out my claim and went to Lincoln to file on it and bought lumber for a door and for window frames. I looked the claim over, chose the site for buildings, and when home drew the plans of where I wanted the house, stable, well, etc., on the dirt hearth for Mrs. McCashland to see. She felt so bad because she had to live in such a place that I gave it up and went to the West Blue river, which was near, felled trees, and 107 108 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES with the help of other settlers hewed them into logs and erected \^ a log house on the homestead. "While living in the dugout In- dian women visited Mrs. McCashland and wanted to trade her a papoose for her quilts. When she refused, they wanted her to give them the quilts. I had just forty- two dollars when we reached Fillmore county, and to look back now one would hardly think it possible to live as long as we did on forty-two dollars. There were times that we had nothing but meal to eat and many days we sent the children to school with only bread for lunch. I was a civil war veteran, which fact entitled me to a home- stead of one hundred and sixty acres. I still own that home- stead, which is farmed by my son. After visiting in the East a few years ago I decided that I would not trade my quarter section in Fillmore county for several times that much eastern land. FILLMORE COUNTY IN THE SEVENTIES By William Spade We came to Nebraska in October of 1870 by wagon and win- tered a mile east of what now ia the Red Lion mill. We made several trips to Lincoln during the fall and winter and one to Nebraska City, where brother Dan and I shucked com for a farmer for a dollar a day with team. I moved on the William Bussard claim, later the Elof Lind- gren farm, in March, 1871, and raised a crop, then moved on our homestead in section 24, town 8, range 3 west. We built part dugout and part sodup for a house and slept in it the first night with only the blue sky for a roof. Then we put on poles, brush, hay, dirt, and sod for a roof. This was in October, and we lived in this dugout until 1874, then built a sod house. In April, 1873, we had a three days' snow storm called a bliz- zard. In the spring of 1871 I attended the election for the or- ganization of the county of Fillmore. I followed farming as an occupation and in the fall of 1872 William Howell and I bought a threshing machine, which we ran for four seasons. Some of the accounts are still due and unpaid. Our lodging place gen- erally was the straw stack or under the machine and our teams were tied to a wagon, but the meals we got were good. Aside from farming and threshing I put in some of the time at car- pentry, walking sometimes six miles back and forth, night and morning. In July or August, 1874, we had a visit from the grasshop- pers, the like of which had never been seen before nor since. They came in black clouds and dropped down by the bushel and ate every green thing on earth and some things in the earth. We had visits from the Indians too but they mostly wanted '*hogy" meat or something to fill their empty stomachs. Well, I said we built a sodup of two rooms with a board floor and three windows and two doors, plastered with Nebraska mud. We thought it a palace, for some time, and were comfortable. In June, 1877, I took a foolish notion to make a fortune and 109 110 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES in company Avith ten others, supplied with six months' pro- visions, started for the Black Hills. We drove ox teams and were nearly all summer on the road; at least we did not reach the mining places till August. In the meantime the water had played out in the placer mining district so there was "nothing doing." We prospected for quartz but that did not pan out satisfactorily, so we traded our grub that we did not need for gold dust and returned to our homes no richer than when we left. However, we had all of the fresh venison we could use both coming and going, besides seeing a good many Indians and lots of wild country that now is mostly settled up. EARLY DAYS IN NEBRASKA By J. A. Carpenter I came to Gage county, Nebraska, in the fall of 1865, and homesteaded 160 acres of land, four miles from the village of Beatrice, in the Blue River valley. I built a log house 12x14 feet with one door and two windows. The floor was made of native lumber in the rough, that we had sawed at a mill oper- ated by water power. With my little family I settled down to make my fortune. Though drouth and grasshoppers made it discouraging at times, we managed to live on what little we raised, supplemented by wild game — that w^as plentiful. Wild turkeys and prairie chickens could be had by going a short distarice and further west there were plenty of buffalo and antelope. Our first mail was carried from Nebraska City on horseback. The first paper published in Gage county was in 1867 and was called the Blue Valley Record. In 1872 a postoffice was estab- lished in the settlement where we lived, which was an improve- ment over going four miles for mail. For the first schoolhouse built in the district where I lived I helped haul the lumber from BroAvnville, Nebraska, on the Missouri river, sixty-five miles from the village of Beatrice. The first few crops of wheat we raised were hauled to Nebraska City, as there was no market at home for it. On the return trip we hauled merchandise for the settlement. Every fall as long as wild game was near us we would spend a week or two hunting; to lay in our winter sup- ply of meat. I remember when I came through where the city of Superior now is, first in 1866 and again in 1867, nothing was to be seen but buffalo grass and a few large cottonwood trees. I killed a buffalo near the present town of Hardy. We have lived in Nebraska continuously since 1865 and it is hard to believe the progress that it has made in these few years. Ill REMINISCENCES OF GAGE COUNTY By Albert L. Green The writer has in his possession an old map of the North American continent published in London in 1796, twelve years after the close of the American Revolution, whereon the region now comprising the state of Nebraska is shown as a part of Quivera; that supposed kingdom of fabulous riches in quest of which Coronado pursued his tedious wanderings more than three hundred years ago. At the time this map was published the French had visited Indian tribes as far west as the Missouri, and it must have been from French and Spanish sources that the geographer and map-maker gathered the information that enabled him to compile that part of his map covering the vast unknown regions of the west. Guess-work and supposition re- sulted in elongations and abbreviations of territory and rivers that made it possible for him to show our own Blue river as emptying into the Gulf of California, and the great kingdoms of Quivera and Teguayo as extending from the Missouri river to the Pacific coast. The greater part of what is now Mexico is shown as "New Biscay" and "New Navarre," while Mexico or "New Spain" is crowded down towards Central America. The existence of the Rocky Mountains, at the time this map was made, was unknown; and the whole region covered by them is shown as a vast plain. "While spending leisure hours among some rare old books in the library of the Union Lea^e of Phil- adelphia, I came across the chronicles of Coronado 's wanderings and adventures, as detailed by his monkish chaplain and pre- served in the Spanish archives. A careful perusal of these fully convinced me that the route traversed was through eastern Ne- braska as far northward as the present site of Lincoln, and pos- sibly as far as the Platte. The great salt marsh was referred to, and the particulars of a disastrous encounter with the warlike Otoes are given. Mention is made of the Missouri nation and its bold warriors, as well as of other tribes whose habitat and hunting grounds were the plains or prairies of eastern Nebraska. 112 PIONEERING IN FILLMORE COUNTY 113 In prehistoric times the Indian trails led along the level river bottoms where both wood and water could be obtained and where game was usually most abundant, and also in the direction of salt springs or licks where salt might be obtainable and the larger kinds of game be more plentiful. At the time of its set- tlement by white people the bottom lands of the Blue were threaded by many deeply worn trails that had evidently been traveled for centuries and a careful consideration of happen- ings, as recorded by the monkish chronicler, and the fact I have just stated in regard to the prehistoric routes of travel, forces the conclusion that Coronado 's weary cavalcade must undoubted- ly have followed the course of the Blue river to a point where the well worn trail diverged towards the great salt basin. Pos- sibly the party may have encamped on the site of Beatrice and there can be little doubt that one of the Indian cities mentioned by the faithful monkish historian, occupied the present site of Blue Springs, where evidences of an ancient Indian town can still be seen, and the outlines of ancient fortifications be traced. Fragments of Indian pottery and stone knives and implements, of both the paleolithic and the neolithic ages, are frequently turned up by the plowshare in that vicinity, all indicating a long established occupancy that must have continued for cen- turies. As late as the early part of the last century the Pawnees occupied the site ; and when the writer as United States govern- ment agent took charge of the Otoes and Missouris, in the sum- mer of 1869, there were still old warriors living who remember- ed hearing their fathers tell of deeds of bloody warfare done in this very vicinity, and who pointed out to the writer the very spot, in a deep draw or ravine on the prairie a few miles east of Blue Springs, where a war party of thirty Otoes met a well- deserved, but terrible death. At the time of this occurrence the Otoes were living at the mouth of the Nemaha and were on very bad terms with the Pawnees, many of whose scalps the writer has seen adorning Otoe medicine bags or hanging in their wigwams. The Pawnees had started on a buffalo hunt, leaving at home only the old and decrepit and a few children, and the Otoes, knowing that the defenders of the village had started on the hunt, made an attack at daybreak the next morning, mur- dering and scalping old and young alike and after loading themselves with plunder, hastened on their homeward trip. 114 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES Unfortunately for the Otoes the Pawnee hunters had encamped only eight miles up Indian creek and one of them that morning had returned to the village on some errand and arrived just in time to discover what was going on. The Otoes wounded him severely, but he succeeded in escaping to the Pawnee camp and giving the alarm. The enraged Pawnee warriors, mounted on their freshest and fastest ponies, were not long in reaching the village, nor were they long in discovering the trail of the Otoe war party, which they followed until they overtook it at the place pointed out to the writer. Here a fierce battle took place which resulted in the complete extermination of the Otoe party ; the tall slough grass, in which they took shelter, having been set on fire, the wounded all perished in the conflagration. This is probably one of the most tragic incidents of which we have any knowledge as having happened within the limits of Gage county. The first store established within the county was located in a log house on Plum creek near the present site of the village of Liberty. It was established, primarily as an Indian trading place, by a Mr. MacDonald, of St. Joseph, Missouri, but was under the management of Mrs. Palmer, who with her husband, David, were the first white settlers within the limits of the county, having arrived in 1857 a few weeks prior to the coming of the founders of Beatrice. David was drowned a few years ago while bathing in the Blue. The store on Plum creek, on one occasion, was raided by a party of Pawnees who, loaded with plunder, were pursued by a large party of Otoes, who overtook them on the Little Blue some distance above the present site of Fairbury, and killed them all. The site of this battle was point- ed out to the writer by the Otoes while accompanying them on a buffalo hunt in 1870. The skulls and bones of the slain were still in evidence at that time, being concealed in the dense thicket in which the battle had taken place. About the year 1868 a war party of Osages made a raid on the aboriginal inhabitants of the county and murdered and scalped several squaws who were chopping wood near the Blue. The trail of the Osages was followed, by a war party of Otoes, to the reservation of the former and satisfaction exacted in the shape of a gift of forty head of ponies. On their way back the Otoes concluded that they had settled too cheaply and feared PIONEERING IN FILLMORE COUNTY 115 they might be censured by the kindred of the murdered women. They halted, and leaving the forty head of ponies under guard, made a flying raid on the Osage pony herds and succeeded in stealing and getting safely away with another forty head. In due time, with eighty head of Osage ponies, they made a tri- umphal daylight entry into their home village. If they had been unsuccessful they would have stolen in one by one during the darkness of the night. The last Indian war party to traverse the soil of G-age county consisted of thirty naked and painted Omahas. It transpired that a party of Kickapoos had raided the pony herds of the Omahas and stolen thirty head of ponies, and in order to throw suspicion on the Otoes, had cunningly directed their trail to- wards the Otoe reservation, passing in the night as near to the Otoe village as possible without being discovered. The Otoes at this time were expecting, and trying to guard against, a raid from the Osages, whom they had great reason to fear, as it was fully expected that they would exact satisfaction, sooner or later, for that extra forty head of ponies that the Otoes had stolen. As a protection from the Osages, the Otoes had constructed a sort of a stockade of poles tied together with withes and strips of bark, in front of each wigwam, where they kept their nearly eight hundred head of ponies under careful watch everj-^ night. The Omaha war party stealthily approached under cover of the darkness and finding sentinels posted and watching, they hid in the tall weeds and sunflowers as close to the stockades as they could safely get, until daybreak, when the sleepy sentinels, think- ing all danger over, entered the wigwams for something to eat and a nap, then emerging from their hiding places the Omahas made quick work of cutting the lashings that bound the poles and selecting thirty of the best ponies they could get hold of. The noise of the ponies' hoof -beats, as the Omahas rode swiftly away, aroused the Otoes, and in a very few minutes the whole village was in a commotion. Fierce war whoops resounded ; the heralds went about calling the braves into action and soon there was mounting in hot haste. The writer, awakened by the tumult, stepped out upon a balcony in front of the agency building and beheld a sight such as no historian of the county will ever again record. In the far distance the naked Omahas were riding for their very lives, while perhaps a hundred or more Otoes were 116 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES lashing their ponies in a wild frenzy of pursuit. In the village the greatest commotion prevailed, the women wailed, the heralds shouted, and the dogs barked ; scores of women stood on the tops of their wigwams shrieking and gesticulating and the temper of the community closely resembled that of a nest of hornets when aroused by the rude thrust of a pole. It was nearly noon when the distant war whoops, announcing the return of the pur- suers, were heard; as they drew near it was apparent that they were wildly triumphant and were bringing with them the thirty hideously painted Omahas. The prisoners were delivered to the agent who directed his police to disarm them, and cause them to be seated on the floor of the council room where they formed a dejected looking group with their naked bodies and shaved and Vermillion painted heads. It was then that their leader explained that their seizure of ponies was honestly intended as a reprisal for ponies which they had lost. Old Medicine Horse, an Otoe chief, assured them that his braves would have killed every one of them if the agent had not talked so much about the wickedness of killing, and it was only their fear of displeasing him that caused them to take prisoners instead of scalps. After much speech-making, the agent adjourned the council and suggested that the Otoes take the Omahas to their wigwams, feed them, and allow them to depart in peace; and this was done. The only blood shed during the campaign was in the shooting of one of Elijah Filley's hogs by the Omahas. The first notification I had of this atrocious and bloody affair was when Elijah, then quite a young man, came to see me and file a complaint, bringing with him the blood-stained arrow that had pierced the vitals of his innocent hog. Perhaps one of the saddest tragedies of those early days oc- curred in 1870 when two homesteaders, returning to their fam- ilies from a trip to Brownville for provisions, were brutally murdered by a half breed named Jim Whitewater. Jim was just returning from a buffalo hunt and had secured a supply of whiskey from a man named Wehn, at Fairbury. Being more than half drunk, he conceived the idea that the bravest thing he could do would be to kill some white people ; and it happened that he came across the poor homesteaders just at that time. It was about dusk and the poor fellows had halted for the night, by the side of a draw where the grass was tall enough to cut for EEMINISCENCES OF GAGE COUNTY 117 their horses. They had unharnessed their teams, tied them to the wagons and were in the act of mowing grass for them when a pistol shot rang out and one of them fell mortally wounded; the other, being attacked, and though mortally hurt, tried to defend himself with the scythe that he had been using, and in doing so cut the Indian's hand, almost severing the thumb. The scene of this terrible affair was just over the Gage county line in Jefferson county and consequently it devolved on the sheriff of that county to discover and arrest the murderer. As White- water had been seen in the vicinity, suspicion pointed to him and his arrest followed. He soon escaped from the officers and was hidden for two weeks, when the Indian police discovered his place of concealment in the timber on Wolf creek. His own brother, assisted by other Indians, captured him by strategy, bound him securely with their lariats and delivered him at the agency. The writer had gone to Beatrice on business and was not expected back until the next day, but in his absence his wife, then a young woman of about twenty, took energetic measures to insure the safety of the prisoner by ordering him placed in irons, and kept under a strong guard until the agent's return. In the meantime, having finished the business at Be- atrice and there being a full moon, the writer decided to drive the twenty miles to the agency between sun-down and midnight, which he did, arriving there shortly after midnight. Of course, until his arrival, he had no intimation that Whitewater had been captured. Before leaving home the Indians had reported that they had reason to believe that he was hiding somewhere on Wolf creek, as his wife had taken dried buffalo meat to that locality, and as the writer, in returning, had to drive for about forty rods through the heavy timber bordering that creek and cross it at a deep and rather dangerous ford, and knowing that Whitewater had declared that he would take both the agent and the sheriff with him to the other world, and that he was heavily armed, the writer is not ashamed to confess to a feeling of nerv- ousness almost akin to fear, as he was about to enter that stretch of timber shaded road dimly lighted by the full moon. He first carefully let down the curtains of the carriage and then made his team dash at full speed through the long stretch of timber, plunge and flounder through the ford, and out once more upon the open prairie, the driver expecting at almost any 118 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES moment to hear the crack of a pistol. On arriving within sight of the agency building, instead of finding it dark and silent as he had expected, the wnter was greatly surprised to see it well lighted and many Indian police standing about it as if on guard. The next morning the writer with several Indian chiefs and the Indian police started for Fairbury with the prisoner; the Indians riding two abreast and carrying a large United States flag at the head of the procession. The trip was made via Beatrice and the distance traveled was about fifty miles. The Indians feared an attack from the Rose creek settlers; neighbors and friends of the murdered men, and as they ap- proached Fairbury the entire line of Indians commenced a melodious chant which the interpreter explained as nothing less than an appeal to the Great Spirit asking him to incline the hearts of the people to treat the Indians kindly and fairly. On arriving at Fairbury the cavalcade halted in the public square and was soon surrounded by the entire population of the hamlet. It was nearly dark, but the good ladies of the place set about preparing a bountiful meal for the hungry In- dians, to which they did ample justice. There being no jail in the place, we waived a hearing and started the next morning for Pawnee City, where prison accommodations could be had. Shortly after leaving Fairbuiy the interpreter told the Indians that evidently the Givat Spirit had heard their appeal, to which they all vociferously assented. Jim was kept at PaAvnee City until his trial, which took plaee at Fairbury before Judge O. P. Mason, who sentenced him to imprisonment for life. White- water was one of three individuals among the Otoes who could read and write, the other two being Battiste Barneby and Bat- tiste Deroin, both of whom were very capable intei'pretei'S. Polygamy being allowable among the Otoes, Deroin was one who had availed himself of its privileges, his two wives being sisters. On learning that Whitewater had been imprisoned for life, his wife soon found another husband, greatly to his sorrow and chagrin. It was during Whitewater's imprisonment that the reservation was sold and the Indians removed. Eighteen years after his conviction he received a pardon and left the peniten- tiary to rejoin the tribe. What retribution he meted out to those who aided in his capture or to his wife's second husband, the writer has never learned. REMINISCENCES OF GAGE COUNTY 119 A year before the writer took charge of the Otoes and Mis- souris, a delegation of their chiefs had accompanied their agent Major Smith, to Washington and made a treaty under which the whole reservation of 160,000 acres was to be sold at $1.50 per acre. The writer was infonned by Major Smith that a railroad company would become the ultimate beneficiary, pro- vided the treaty was ratified by the senate, and that he had been promised a section of land if the scheme proved successful. Smith urged the writer to use all the influence possible to secure the ratification of the treaty and before the writer had taken any steps to secure its defeat, he also received an intimation, if not an absolute promise, from interested parties, that in the event of its ratification, he should have his choice of any section of land on the domain. Believing that such a treaty was ad- verse to the interests and welfare of the Indians, the writer at once set about to accomplish its defeat, in which, through the aid of eastern friends, he was finally successful. Coronado's chronicler mentions, among other nations with whom the expedition came in contact, the Missowias as being veiy fierce and warlike, and it may be a matter of local histori- cal interest to state that the Missouri ''nation" with which Coronado became acquainted, and from which one of the world's largest rivers and one of the largest and richest states take their names, reduced to a remnant of less than one hundred individuals, found an abiding place within the limits of Gage county for more than a generation. Placed on a reservation with the Otoes and under the eare of the same agent, they still retained their own chief and their own language, though cir- cumstances gradually induced the adoption of the Otoe tongue. The old chief of the Missouris was called Eagle and was known as a war chief. It was his province to command and direct all hunting operations. He was a man of very striking appearance, over six feet in height, straight as an arrow, with fine features and apparently about seventy-five years of age in 1869. He was an hereditary chief, and probably a lineal descendant of one of the kings of the Missouri nation that Coronado and his fol- lowers met. Old Eagle wajs the only chief of the Missouris, and was respected and highly esteemed by both the Missouris and the Otoes. During a buffalo hunt, in which the writer par- ticipated with the Indians, Eagle chief was the highest author- 120 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES ity in regard to all matters pertaining to the chase and attack on the herd. In 1869 the head chief of the Otoes was Arkeketah who was said to have been appointed to that position by Major Daily. He was a polygamist and very much opposed to the ways of the white man. In fact he was such a reactionary and atumbling-bloek to the progress of the tribe that the writer finally deposed him and advanced Medicine Horse to the posi- tion of head chief. The number of Indians living within the borders of Ga^e county in 1869 was probably not far from eight hundred. The reservation, comprising two hundred and fifty square miles, extended some distance into Kansas and also took in a part of Jefferson county in this state, but the Indians were all domiciled in Gage county. Their principal village was situated close to the site now occupied by the town of Barnston and where a fine spring afforded an ample supply of water. The wigwams were of a type adopted by the Indians long before the discovery of America, and most of them were large enough to accommo- date several families. It was a custom of the Otoes to vacate the wigwams and live during the winter in tipis which were pitched in the timber where fuel was close at hand. In 1869 only three persons in the confederated tribes wore citizens clothes, the rest were all blanket Indians, who, during warm weather, went almost naked, and habitually painted their faces and shaved heads, with vermillion and indigo. The principal burial place of the Otoes was on a bluff over- looking the river bottoms, and within a short distance of where Barnston now stands. For years it was visited, as one of the curiosities of the reservation, by the white settlers and strangers, chiefly on account of the weird and ghostly funeral oaks that stood on the brink of the bluff, bearing, lashed to their gnarled and crooked limbs, gruesome burdens of dead Indians, wrapped in bark and partly mummified by the sun and wind ; there was probably a score of these interesting objects resting peacefully on the boughs of these three oaks ; they had been there for many years, and might possibly have remained to this day had not a great prairie fire during the summer of 1871 destroyed the oaks and their ghastly burden, leaving only an assortment of charred bones and skulls to mark the site. A strange and pathetic tragedy, in connection with this old BEMINISCENCES OF GAGE COUNTY 121 burial place, transpired shortly before the writer took charge of the agency and its affairs; and it was from the interpreter, Battiste Deroin, that the particulars were obtained. The inci- dent may be worth preserving by the local historian, as illustrat- ing the absolute faith of the Indians in a continued existence of the spirit beyond the grave. Dogs were frequently strangled at children's funerals in order that the dog's spirit might ac- company that of the child, and it was a common sight to see a dog's body sitting upright with its back to a stake and securely tied in that position, in the vicinity of the old burial place. The man who figured in this tragedy was very aged and feeble, and the little child was very dear to him; he doubtless knew that he had not long to live and that he very soon would have to travel over the same lonely trail that the little child was about to take. Doubtless he realized fully what a comfort it would be to each, if they could take the long journey together. The Otoes always buried their dead in a sitting posture ; and the old man, when seated in the grave, held the body of the child in his arms. The relatives took a last farewell of both the dead child and its living caretaker; the grave was covered with a buffalo robe supported on poles or heavy sticks, and the mass of earth taken from the grave was piled thereon ; this being their usual mode of burial. The custom of strangling a horse or pony at the burial of an Indian brave was a common occurrence among the Otoes prior to 1870 and the old burial place on the bluff was somewhat dec- orated with horses' skulls laid upon the graves of warriors who are supposed to have gone to heaven on horseback. The tail of the horse sacrificed was usually fastened to a pole that stood at the head of the grave. The first school established within the limits of the county was a mission school under the care of the Rev. Mr. Murdock, and the old stone building, built for it on Mission creek, was the first stone building in the county. It was a ruin in 1869. In 1869 there were still some beavers to be found along the Blue ; and at that time the river abounded with large gars, some of which were three or four feet in length; a fish which has since become entirely extinct in the Blue, probably because the water is no longer clear. The gar was one of the primitive fishes of the Silurian age; it was very destructive of all other fish. 122 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES White people never ate it, but the Indians thought it fairly- good. The Indians obtained most of their fish by shooting with arrows from the river banks. They often succeeded in shooting very large fish owing to the clearness of the water. This could not be done now that the prairies have been put into cultivation, as that has destroyed the clearness of the water. As late as 1869 there were some wild deer in the county and little spotted fawns were occasionally caught. The writer pro- cured two of the latter from the Indians and gave them to Ford Roper's family in Beatrice; they became very tame and were fre- quently seen on the streets of the town. In 1870 the writer, while driving from Blue Springs to Beatrice, met a large buck with antlers, as it emerged from an opening in the bluffs. Among the first settlers of the county were some families from Tennessee who settled near the present town of Liberty on Plum creek. They did their own spinning and weaving, and having been accustomed to raising cotton and mixing it with the wool for spinning, they undertook to raise it here. The writer remembers seeing their cotton patches, but never saw^ them gathering cotton. The first bridge built in the county to cross the river, was built on Market street, Beatrice, about the year 1870. It was a very narrow wooden structure, only wide enough for one wagon at a time to pass over. The firm of Peavy and Curtiss of Paw- nee City were the contractors and the contract price was $4,000. It was regarded as a public improvement of very great impor- tance to tJie town. RANCHING IN GAGE AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES By Peter Jansen I came to Beatrice, Nebraska, in 1874, after having been through Mixinesota, Dakota, and Kansas, looking for a place where a settlement of our people, the Mennonites, could be es- tablished. Of all the land I had looked over, I liked south- eastern Nebraska best, and the little town of Beatrice on the banks of the Big Blue, then consisting of maybe fifty dwellings and a few stores on lower Court street, seemed very picturesque and attractive. After forty years I have not changed my opin- ion. We found a suitable tract of prairie just across the line in Jefferson county, which we bought of the Burlington and Mis- souri River railroad at $3,50 per acre on easy payments. Be- atrice remained our chief place of business. Smith Brothers had just started a banking business in one-half of a little shack, the other half being occupied by a watchmaker carrying a small stock of jewelry. Klein & Lang had a general sitore on the comer of Second and Court streets, and here we did nearly all of our trading. The "Pacific House" on Second street was the only hotel. Here I made headquarters for some time. Mr. and Mrs. Randall, the hosts, were very kind to me. The latter died a few years later in the prime of her life. We soon commenced to build up what was for years known as " Jansen 's Ranch," about twenty miles southwest of Beatrice, and stock it with sheep, which we brought from Wisconsin, The first summer I had a temporary sheep corral about where the West Side schoolhouse now stands. We used to drive from the ranch to Beatrice diagonally across the prairie; very few sec- tion lines had been established, and there was only one hou^ between the two points. Major Wheeler, of stage route fame, lived at the Pacific house and took a kindly interest in the young emigrant boy. I re- member on one occasion I had brought in a carload of valuable breeding sheep and quartered them for the night in the corral of the livery stable across the street from the hotel, run then 123 124 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES by S. P. Lester. I was afraid of strange dogs attacking them, and sat up all night on the porch watching. In the morning, while washing up in the primitive wash-room, I overheard the major telling Mr. Randall about it. He concluded by saying: "That young fellow is all right; a boy who sits up all night with a few sheep will certainly succeed. ' ' I felt proud over the praise, and it encouraged me very much. We were told by the few settlers who had preceded us that the upland prairie would not grow anything and that the bottom land was the only place where crops could be raised with any assurance of success. However, we were going to try farming, anyway. I bought a yoke of young oxen and a breaking plow and started in. The oxen were not well broken, and the plow was new and ^vx)uld not scour. Besides, I did not know anything about breaking prairie or driving oxen. The latter finally be- came impatient and ran away, dragging the plow with them. It was a hot day in May, and they headed for a nearby slough, going into the water up to their sides. I had by that time dis- carded my shoes and followed them as fast as I could. When I reached the slough, quite out of breath and thoroughly disgusted, I sat down and nearly cried and wished I were back in Russia where I did not have to drive oxen myself. About this time the nearest neighbor, a Mr. Babcock, living four miles away, happened along driving a team of old, well broken oxen. He asked what my trouble was, and after I told him in broken English, he said : ' ' Well, Pete, take off your trousers and go in and get your oxen and plow out, and I will help you lay off the land and get your plow agoing, ' ' which he did, and so started me farming. My younger brother, John, and I bached it for two years. One of us would herd the sheep and the other stay at home and do the chores and cooking. We took turns about every week. We had a room partitioned off in the end of the sheep shed, where we lived. Game was plentiful those days, and during the fall and win- ter we never lacked for meat. I had by that time, I regret to say, acquired the filthy Amer- ican habit of chewing (I have quit it long since), and enjoyed it very much while doing the lonely stunt of herding the flock. One day we had gotten a new supply of groceries and also a RANCHING IN GAGE AND JEFFERSON 125 big plug of what was known as ''Star" chewing tobacco. Next morning I started out on my pony with the sheep, the plug in my pocket, and anticipating a good time. Soon a severe thunder storm came up, and lightning was striking all around me. I felt sure I would be hit and they would find me dead with the big plug of tobacco in my pocket. My mother knew nothing of my bad habit, and I also knew that it would nearly kill her to find out, so I threw the plug far away and felt better — for awhile. The clouds soon passed away, however, and the sun came out brightly and soon found me hunting for that plug, which, to my great disappointment, I never recovered. Those early winters, seems to me, were severer than they are now, and the snow storms or blizzards much fiercer, probably because the wind had an unrestricted sweep over the vast prai- ries. In a few years our flocks had increased, so that we built a corral and shed a mile and a half away, where we kept our band of wethers and a herder. About Christmas, I think it was in 1880, a blizzard started, as they usually did, with a gentle fall of snow, which lasted the fii-st day. During the night the wind veered to the north, and in the morning we could not see three rods; it seemed like a sea of milk! We were very anxious to know the fate of our herder and his band of sheep, and towards noon I attempted to reach them, hitching a pair of horses to a sleigh and taking a man along. We soon got lost and drove around in a circle, blinded by the snow, for hours, my companion giving up and resigning himself to death. We probably would have both per- ished had it not been for the sagacity of my near horse, to which I finally gave the reins, being benumed myself. He brought ua home, and you may believe the barking of the shep- herd dogs sounded very musical to me as we neared the bam. We got our fuel from the Indian reservation about eight miles south of us on the creek, where now stands the thriving town of Diller. The Indians were not allowed to sell any timber, but a generous gift of tobacco was too tempting to them to resist. Rattlesnakes were found frequently in those days, and their venomous bites caused great agony and sometimes death. One Sunday afternoon, wife and myself were sitting on the porch of our small frame house, while our baby was playing a few 126 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES feet away in a pile of sand. Our attention was attracted by her loud and gleeful crooning. Looking up, we saw her poking a stick at a big rattler, coiled, ready to spring, about three feet away. I have always detested snakes and would give even a harmless bull-snake a wide berth. However, I took one big jump and landed on Mr. Rattler with both feet, while my wife snatched the baby out of harm's way. The next ten years made a great change. "We had proven that farming on the tablelands could be made a succe^, rail- roads had been built, and towns and villages had sprung up like mushrooms. We even got a telephone. The wilderness had been conquered. "When I look back upon those first years of early settlement, with their privations and hardships, I cannot refrain from think- ing they were the happiest ones of my life, especially after I got married in 1877 and my dear wife came to share joy and sorrow with me. To her I attribute to a very large extent what little I may have achieved in the way of helping to build up this great commonwealth. Mrs. Frances Avery Haggard Third State Eegent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American Revolution. 1898 EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OF GAGE COUNTY By Mrs, E. Johnson Emerson aptly said, "America is another word for opportun- ity." We realize this most truly when we compare present prosperity with early day living in the middle West. In 1878 ray brother, A. M. McMaster, and family, arrived in Nebraska City. They came overland to Gage county and set- tled on section 15, two and a half miles northeast of Filley and one mile south of what was then known as Melroy postoffice, so-called in honor of two little boys bom the same year the post- office was established, Mell Gale and Roy Tinklepaugh, whose parents were among the earliest settlers in this neighborhood. My brother built his house of lumber he had shipped to Ne- braska City. Beatrice was our market plaee. We sold all our grain, hogs, and produce there. Eggs were five cents a dozen and butter six cents a pound. The first year we came we bought five hundred bushels of com at twelve cents a bushel delivered, and cribbed it. There was an Indian trail across the farm, and often the Indians would pass going from the Omaha reservation to the Otoe reservation at Bamston; the children would become frightened and hide under the bed; the Indians would often call and ask for flour and meat. There was not a house between Elijah Filley 's stone barn and Beatrice on the Scott street road, and no bridges. The trail we followed going to Beatrice led us north to Melroy, making the traveling distance one and a half miles farther than in these times of well preserved section lines and graded country roads. This stone barn of Elijah Filley 's was an early land- mark. I have heard Mr. Filley tell interesting anecdotes of his early years here, one of an Indian battle near the present site of Virginia. Before the town of Filley was in existence, there was a post- office called "Cottage Hill," which is shown on old time maps of the state. 127 128 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES One of the curiosities of the early times was a cow with a wooden leg", running with a herd of cattle. The hind leg was off at the knee joint. She was furnishing milk for the family of her o\ATier, a Mr. Scott living on Mud creek, near the town of Filley. Mr. Scott often told of pounding their corn to pulverize it. The nearest mUl was at Nebraska City. This difficult traffic continued until 1883, when the Burlington came through Filley. Two or three years after we had located here, two young men came along from Kansas looking for work. My brother was away from home, working at carpentry, and his wife, fearing to be alone, would lock the stair door after they retired and unlock it in the morning before they appeared. They gathered the com and then remained and worked for their board. One day, one of the young men was taken sick. The other was sent for Dr. Boggs. He lost his way in a raging blizzard and came out five miles north of where he intended to, but reached the doctor and secured medicine, the doctor not being able to go. The next day Dr. Boggs, with his son to shovel through the drifts, succeeded in getting there. The young man grew worse, they sent for his mother, and she came by stage. The storm was ^ fierce the stage was left there for a week ; the horses were taken to Melroy postoffice. The young man died and was taken in the stage to Beatrice to be sliipped home, men going with shovels to dig a road. Arriving there it was found that the railroad was blocked. As they could not ship the body, they secured a casket and the next day brought it back to our house. My brother was not at home, and they took the corpse to a neighbor's house. The next day they buried him four miles east, at what is now known as Crab Orchard. True, life in those days tended to make our people sturdy, independent and ingenious, but for real comfort it is not strange that we prefer present day living, with good mail ser- vice, easy modes of transportation, modern houses, and well equipped educational institutions. BIOGRAPHY OF FORD LEWIS By (Mrs. D. S.) H. Virginia Lewis Dal.bey As my father, Ford Lewis, was one of the pioneer land own- ers in Nebraska and assisted actively in settling the southeast part of the state, I have been requested to give a brief sketch of his life and early experiences in this state. My only regret in writing this is that he is not here to speak for himself. Ford Lewis was bom in Deckertown, New Jersey, July 25, 1829, son of Phoebe and Levi Lewis, the latter engaged in mercantile bus- iness both in Hamburg and Hackettstown, New Jersey. After finishing his education at William Rankin's Classical School and studying under Chris Marsh, author of double entry bookkeeping, he assisted his father in the mercantile business for some time. However, he preferred other pursuits and after a successful test of his judgment in real estate, started west. At Syracuse, New York, he was induced to engage in partner- ship under the name of Chapman & Lewis, watch case manu- facturers and importers of watch movements; keeping standard time for the New York Central and other roads and supplying railroad officials, conductors, and engineers with the highest grade of watches. Selling his interest in 1856, he accepted the general agency of the Morse Publishing House, New York, making his head- quarters at Charleston, South Carolina, in winter and at Cleve- land, Ohio, in summer, until 1859, when he went to Jerseyville, Illinois, with his parents and sister, buying and selling real estate in that city and Jersey county until 1867, when, with Congressman Robert M. Knapp, he visited Nebraska, and made his first investment in government land, many of his United States patents being signed by Presidents Grant and Johnson. Ford Lewis was in pioneer days one of the largest owners of farm lands in Nebraska, his holdings being chiefly in Pawnee, Otoe, Gage, Johnson, and Lancaster counties. On one of his advertising cards he states that, "occupied for eighteen years past in the purchase and sale of over 80,000 acres of other lands, 129 130 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES these, on account of their well known intrinsic value have been reserved intact." Mr. Lewis founded the towns of Lewiston in Pawnee county and Virginia in Gage county, naming the latter in honor of his daughter. At a meeting of the Nebraska legislature held at Omaha in 1867, Mr. Lewis was an interested spectator, and before the capital of the state was changed he predicted its location in the salt basin, almost on the spot where Lincoln now stands. He accordingly purchased property in the vicinity of what is now Beatrice, making a comfortable fortune as the result of his wisdom and foresight. By Ford Lewis' liberality to those purchasing land fi^om him, in selling at reasonable prices, and extending their contracts during hard times, instead of making purchasers forfeit their land because of inability to meet their payments, he encouraged and assisted many settlers who are now some of Nebraska's most prosperous farmere to keep their land, which is now tlie source of their prosperity. During the period when he was borrowing money for his investments in Nebraska land, many Illinois people remarked that Ford Lewis was * ' land crazy," but have since wished they had had his vision, and courage to hold their purchases through the crop failures and drouths which are sometimes the portion of every community; those who followed his ad^dce now "rise up and call him blessed. ' ' That he was not alone in his judgment is evidenced by the large land holdings of the late Lord Scully of England and the late John W. Bookwalter of Springfield, Ohio, who recently died in Italy, and was a warm personal friend of my father's, hav- ing purchased some of his land from him. Mr. Le\ris married Miss Elizabeth Davis of Jei-seyville, Illi- nois, in 1864. She was the first girl baby bom in that town, her parents being among the earliest pioneei-s there from New Jersey; so her childhood memories of beai*s, Indians, and slave refugees during the civil war, and roaming the woods sur- rounding their home prepared her to be a capable and sympa- thetic helpmate for my father during his many pioneer trips to Nebraska. A BUFFALO HUNT By W. H. Aveby In the fall of 1866, about the last of October, a party of nine men, myself included, started out from Rose creek for a buffalo hunt. At Whiterock, Kansas, we were joined by another party of four men with "Old Martin Fisher," an early White- rock settler, as official guide. Our equipment consisted of four wagons, one of which was drawn by a double ox team. There were numerous firearms and plenty of provisions for the trip. The party was much elated over the first day's experiences as night found us in possession of four fine buffalo. That evening while we were riding out after one of the buffalo our ears were greeted by the Indian yell. Looking back up a draw we saw five redmen galloping toward us. At the time we did not know they were friendly, but that was proven later. They came up to us and wanted powder or ' ' bullet ' ' and also wanted to swap guns. All they succeeded in getting was a necktie which one of the men gave them. After a short parley among them- selves they left, going back to our camp where we had left one man to guard the camp and prepare supper. There they helped themselves to the loaf of bread the guard had just baked, a $12 coat, a $22 revolver, and one good bridle; away they went and that was the last seen of them. The night was passed in safety and the next day we hunted without any exciting experiences. The following day we met with only fair success so thought we had better start for home. In the morning the party divided, our guide, Fisher, and two men going on and leaving the rest of us to hunt as we went along. We succeeded in getting only one buffalo, but Fisher's men had done better and were ready to make tracks for home. That night they had suspicions that there were Indians near so built no fire and in the morning soon after breaking camp a party of Indians came upon them. There was considerable parleying about a number of things which the Indians wanted but the men were unwilling to make any bargains whatever. All the Indians but one started off and 131 132 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES this one still wanted to parley and suddenly drew his revolver and shot Fislier in the shoulder. The Indian then rode off at breakneck speed and that was the last seen of them. Fisher warned the men not to shoot as he was uncertain as to how many redmen might be in their vicinity and he did not want to take any great risk of them all being killed. Our party did not know of the accident until we returned home and we had no en- counter with the party of Indians. We were thankful to be safely home after a ten days hunt. A GRASSHOPPER RAID By Edna M. Boyle Allen Perhaps children who live in a pioneer country remember incidents in their early life better than children living in older settled countries. These impressions stand out clearly and in prominence all the rest of their lives. At least there are several things which happened before I was six years old that are as vivid in my memory as if they had happened but yesterday. Such was the coming of the grassi- hoppers in 1874, when I was two years old. My father, Judge Boyle, then owned the block on the north side of Fifth street between I and J streets, in the village of Fairbury. Our house stood where J. A. Westling's house now stands. Near our place passed the stage road to Beatrice. A common remark then was, ''We are almost to Fairbury, there is Boyle's house." Father always had a big garden of sweet corn, tomatoes, cab- bage, etc., and that year it was especially fine. One day he came rushing home from his office saying, "The gi'asshoppers are coming." Mother and he hurried to the gar- den to save all the vegetables possible before the grasshoppers arrived. I put on a little pink sun bonnet of which I was very proud, and v/ent out to watch my parents gather the garden track as fast as they could and run to the cellar door and toss it down. I jumped up and down thoroughly enjoying the ex- citement. Finally, the grasshoppers, which were coming from the northwest like a dark cloud, seeming so close, father shut the cellar door before he and mother returned to the garden for another load. They had just filled their arms when the grasshoppera began to drop and not wishing to let any down cellar they threw what vegetables they had on the ground and turned a big wooden wash tub over them. By this time my little pink sunbonnet was covered with big grasshoppers. Mother picked me up in her arms and we hurried into the house. From 133 x 134 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES the north kitchen window we watched every stalk of that gar- den disappear, even the onions were eaten from the ground. When father went to get the vegetables from under the wooden tub there wasn't a thing there. The grasshoppers had managed to crawl and dig their way under the edge of that tub. The only time an Indian ever frightened me was in the fall of 1875. I was used to having the Otoe Indians come to our house. Mother was not afraid of them so of course I was not. Among them was a big fellow called John Little Pipe. The door in the hall of our house had glass in the upper half. One af- ternoon mother being nearly sick was lying down on the couch and I took my doll trying to keep quiet playing in the hall. Looking up suddenly I saw John stooping and looking in through the glass in the door. I screamed and ran to mother. He didn't like my screaming but followed me into the sitting room and upon seeing mother lying down said, "White lady sick ? ' ' Mother was on her feet in a moment. He sat down and after grumbling a while about my screaming he began to beg for a suit of clothes. Mother said, "John, you know well enough you are too large to wear my husband's clothes." Then he wanted something for his squaw and children. Finally mother gave him an old dress of hers. He looked it over critically and asked for goods to patch it where it was worn thin. Grabbing his blanket where it lay across his knees he shook it saying, "Wind, whew, whew." After recei\ing the patches, he wanted food but mother told him he could not have a thing more and for him to go. He started, but toward the closet he had seen her take the dress from. She said, "You know better than to go to that door. You go out the way you came in. ' ' He meek- ly obeyed. I had seen him many times before and saw him several times afterward but that was the only time I was fright- ened. EARLY DAYS IN PAWNEE COUNTY By Daniel B. Cropsey In March, 1868, I left Fairbury, Illinois, with my two brothers and a boy friend in a covered wagon drawn by two mules. We landed at Nebraska City after swimming the mules to get to the ferry on which we crossed the Big Muddy. We then drove to Lincoln the first week in April. My father had purchased a home there on the site where the Capital hotel now stands. Lincoln then was but a hamlet of a few hundred people. There were no sliade trees nor sidewalks and no railroad. Later father built a larger house, out a considerable distance in those days, but today it faces the capitol building. The house is a brick structure, and all the bricks were hauled from Nebraska City. Afterwards father sold the home to Chancellor Fairfield of the State University. The year before we came father had come to Nebraska and had bought a large body of land, about ten thousand acres, in Pawnee county. I being the oldest boy in our family, it de- volved upon me to go to Pawnee county to look after the land, which was upland and considered by the older inhabitants of little value; but the tract is now worth about a million dollars. Among other duties I superintended the opening up of the lines and plowing out fifty-two miles of hedge rows around and through this land. I am sorry to say that most of the money and labor were lost for prairie fires almost completely destroyed the hedge. I had many experiences during my two years' sojourn in Pawnee county. The work was hard and tedious. Shelter and drinking-water were scarce — we drank water from the buifalo wallows or went thirsty, and at times had to brave the storms in the open. The people were poor and many lived in sod houses or "dugouts," and the living was very plain. Meat and fruit were rarities. The good people I lived with did their best to provide, but they were up against it. Grasshoppers and the drouth were things they had to contend with. At times our 135 136 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES meals consisted of bread and butter and pumpkin, with pump- kin pie for Sunday dinner. The bam we usually carried with us. It consisited of a rope from sixty to a hundred feet long for each mule or horse and was called the lariat. I put the pony one night in the barn across the ravine, I well remember, and in the morning I found a river between the barn and me. A rain had fallen in the night and I had to wait nearly a day before I could get to the pony. Our only amusement was running down young deer and rab- bits and killing rattlesnakes. We often met the red man wdth his paint and feathers. He was ever ready to greet you with "How!" and also ready to trade ponies, and never backward about asking for "tobac. " As I was neither brave nor well acquainted with the Indians I was always ready to divide my "tobac. " Later I found out I was easy, for the boys told me whenever they met the beggar Indian they told him to "puckachee," which they said meant for him to move on. We had no banks, and we cashed our drafts with the mer- chants. David Butler was governor at that time. He was a merchant as well, and made his home in Pawnee, so he was my banker. On two occasions I had the pleasure of riding with him in his buggy from Pawnee to Lincoln. It was indeed a privi- lege to ride in a buggy, for we all rode ponies those days, and I think I was envied by most of the boys and girls of Pawnee. On one of my return trips with the governor my good mother had baked a nice cake for me to take with me, which I put under the seat along with a lot of wines of several kinds and grades which the governor's friends had given him. Of course mother didn 't know about the liquids. 1 11 never forget that trip. We grew very sociable and the Nemaha valley grew wider and wider as we drove along; and when we arrived at Pawnee the next day the cake was all gone, our faces were like full moons, and it was fully a week before I had any feeling in my flesh. I also well remember the first train which ran between Lincoln and Plattsmouth. That was a great day, and the Burlington excursion was made up of box cars and flat cars with ties for seats. Crowds of young people took advantage of the excursion and we enjoyed it much more than we would today in a well- equipped pulLman. EARLY EVENTS IN JEFFERSON COUNTY By George Cross Along in the seventies, when everyone was interested in the project of the erection of a United Brethren college in Fair- bury, the leading promoter of that enterprise held a revival in the Baptist church. The weather was warm and as his zeal in expounding the gospel increased he would remove his coat, vest, and coUar, keeping up meantime a vigorous chewing of tobacco. The house was usually crowded and among the late-comers one night was W. A. Gould, who was obliged to take a seat in front close to the pulpit. The next day some one offered congratula- tions at seeing him in church, as it was the first time he had ever been seen at such a place in Fairbury. "Yes," said Gould, "I used to attend church, but that was the first time I ever sat under the actual drippings of the sanctuary, for the minister spit all over me. " The most closely contested election ever held in Jefferson county was that in 1879 on the question of voting bonds to the Burlington and Missouri railroad to secure the passing through Fairbury of the line being built east from Red Cloud. The proposition was virtually to indirectly relieve the road from taxation for ten years. As bonding propositions were submitted in those days this was considered a very liberal one, as the taxes were supposed to offset the bonds and if the road was not built there would be neither bonds nor taxes. It required a two- thirds vote to carry the bonds and as the northern and southern portions of the county were always jealous of Fairbury the con- test was a bitter one. Some of the stakes of the old Brownville & Ft. Kearny survey were yet standing and some still hoped that road would be built. The people of Fairbury resorted to all kno^Ti devices to gain votes, some of which have not yet been revealed. It was long before the days of the Australian ballot and more or less bogus tickets were in circulation at every elec- tion. On this occasion a few tickets containing a double nega^ tive were secretly circulated in a precinct bitterly opposed to the 137 138 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES bonds. Several of these were found in the ballot box and of course rejected, which left on the face of the returns a majority of one in favor of the bonds. It has always been believed that Fairbury lost the road because the officials of the road, who also comprised the townsite company, thought they could make more by building up new towns of their own. }^^., .Jjj ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^V^^I^Ho^^^^i ^ 1 ^ _^_J^^^^^K 2: C3 .>^H^H 1 u^ EARLY DAYS OF FAIRBURY AND JEFFERSON COUNTY By George W, Hansen The first white settler in what is now Jefferson county was Daniel Patterson, who established a ranch in 1856 where the Overland, or Oregon trail crosses the Big Sandy. Newton Glenn located the same year at the trail crossing on Rock creek. The first government survey of land in this county was made in 1857, and the plat and field notes show the location of "Patter- son's Trading Post" on the southeast quarter of section 16, town 3 north, range 1 east. Early in May, 1859, D. C. Jenkins, disappointed in his search for gold at Pike's Peak, returned on foot pushing a wheelbarrow with all his possessions the entire distance. He stopped at the Big Sandy and established a ranch a short distance below Pat- terson's place. A few weeks later, on May 25, 1859, Joel Helvey and his family, enroute for Pike's Peak, discouraged by the re- ports of Mr. Jenkins and other returning gold hunters, settled on the Little Sandy at the crossing of the trail. About the same time came George Weisel, who now lives in Alexandria, James Blair, whose son Grant now lives near Powell, on the land where his father first located, and D. C. McCanles, who bought the Glenn ranch on Rock creek. The Helvey family have made this county their home ever since. One of Joel Helvey 's sons, Frank, then a boy of nineteen, is now living in Fairbury. He knew Daniel Patterson and D. C. McCanles, and with his brothers Thomas and Jasper, buried McCanles, Jim Woods, and Jim Gordon, Wild Bill's victims of the Rock creek tragedy of 1861. He drove the Overland stage, rode the pony express, was the first sheriff of this county, and forms a connecting link be- tween the days of Indian raids and the present. Alexander Majors, one of the proprietors of the Overland stage line, pre- sented each of the drivers with a bible, and Frank Helvey 's copy is now loaned to the Nebraska State Historical Society. Thomas Helvey and wife settled on Little Sandy, a short dis- tance above his father's ranch, and there on July 4, 1860, their 139 140 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES son Orlando, the first white child in the present limits of Jeffer- son and Thayer counties, was bom. During the civil war a number of families came, settling along the Little Blue and in the fertile valleys of Rose, Cub, and Swan creeks. In 1862 Ives Marks settled on Rose creek, near the present town of Reynolds, and built a small sawmill and church. He organized the first Sunday school at Big Sandy. The first election for county officers was held in 1863. D. L. Marks was elected county clerk, T. J. Holt, county treasurer, Ed. Farrell, county judge. In November, 1868, Ives Marks was elected county treasurer. If a person was unable to pay his en- tire ta>x, he would accept a part, issue a receipt, and take a note for the balance. Sometimes he would give the note back so that the party would know when it fell due. He drove around the county collecting taxes, and kept his funds in a candle box. He drove to Lincoln in his one-horse cart, telling everyone he met that he was Rev. Ives Marks, treasurer of Jefferson county, and that he had five hundred dollars in that box which he was tak- ing to the state treasurer. Fairbury was laid out in August, 1869, by W. G. McDowell and J. B. Mattingly. Immediately after the survey Sidney Ma- son built the first house upon the townsite of Fairbury, on the comer northwest of the public square, where now stands the U. S. postoffice. Mrs. Mason kept boarders, and advertised that her table was loaded with all the delicacies the market afforded, and I can testify from personal experience that the common food our market did afford was transformed into delicacies by the magic of her cooking. Mrs. Mason has lived in Fairbury ever since the towTi was staked out, and now (1915), in her ninety-sixth year, is keeping her own house and performing all the duties of the home cheerfully and happily. Mrs. Mason's grandson, Claibom L. Shader, son of Mr. and Mrs. A. L. Shader, now of Lincoln, was the first child born in Fairbury. One of the most vivid and pleasant memories that comes to me after the lapse of forty-five years is that of a boy, tired and foot- sore from a hundred-mile walk from the Missouri river, stand- ing on the hill where the traveler from the east first sees the valley of the Little Blue, looking down on a little group of about a dozen houses — the village of Fairbur>'. This was in FAIRBURY AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES 141 the summer of 1870, and was my first view of the town that was ever after to be my home. On the second floor of Thomas & Champlin's store I found George Cross and my brother, Harry Hansen, running off the Fairhury Gazette, alternating in inking the types with the old- \ . fashioned roller and yanking the lever of the old-fashioned hand ^ press. This was about the first issue of the Gazette entirely printed at home. The first issues were set up at home, hauled to Beatrice in a lumber wagon, and printed in the office of the Beatrice Express, until the press arrived in Fairbury. When subscriptions were mostly paid in wood, butter, squash, and turnips, you can imagine what a time Mr. Cross had in skirmishing around for cash to pay for paper and ink, and the wages of a printer; so he decided if the paper was to survive and build up the country, he must have a printer for a partner, and he sold a half interest in the Gazette to my brother and me. The principal source of our revenue was from printing the com- missioners' proceedings and the delinquent tax list, taking our pay in county warrants. These warrants drew ten per cent in- V teresit, were paid in a year, and we sold them to Editor Cramb's grandfather for seventy-five cents on the dollar. On that basis they yielded him forty per cent per annum — too low a rate, we thought, to justify holding. Prairie grass grew luxuriantly in the streets. There were not enough buildings around the public square to mark it. On the west side were three one-story buildings, the best one still stand- ing, now owned by Wm. Christian and used as a confectionery ; it was then the office of the county clerk and board of county commissioners. The second was the pioneer store of John Brown, his office as justice of the peace, and his home ; the third was a shanty covered with tarred paper, the office and home of Dr. Showalter, physician, surgeon, politician, and sometimes ex- horter; and a past master he was in them all. On the north side were two of the same class of buildings, one occupied by Mr. McCaffery, whose principal business was selling a vile brand of whiskey labeled Hostetter 's Bitters, and the other M^as Wesley Bailey's drug store and postoffice. George Cross had the honor of being postmaster, but Wes drew the entire salary of four dol- lars and sixteen cents per month, for services as deputy and rent for the office. On the east side there was but one building, 142 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES Thomas & Champlin's Farmers' store. On the south side there was nothing. On the south half of the square was our ball ground. Men were at work on the foundation of the Methodist church, the first church in Fairbury. We were short on church buildings but long on religious discussions. Where the city hall now stands were the ruins of the dugout in which Judge Boyle and family had lived the previous winter. He had built a more stately mansion of native cottonwood lum- ber — his home, law and real-estate office. M. H. Weeks had for sale a few loads of lumber in his yard on the comer northeast of the square, hauled from Waterville by team, a distance of forty-five miles. All supplies were hauled from Waterville, the nearest railroad station, and it took nearly a week to make the round trip. Judge Mattingly was running a sawmill near the river, cutting the native eottonwoods into dimension lumber and common boards. The Otoe Indians, whose reservation was on the east line of the county, camped on the public square going out on their an- nual buffalo hunts. The boys spent the evenings with them in their tents playing seven-up, penny a game, always letting the Indians win. They went out on their last hunt in the fall of 1874, and traveled four hundred miles before finding any buf- falo. The animals were scarce by reason of their indiscriminate slaughter by hunters, and the Otoes returned in February, 1875, with the "jerked" meat and hides of only fifteen buffalo. The Western Stage Company ran daily to and from Beatrice, connecting there by stage with Brownville and Nebraska City. The arrival of the stage was the great and exciting event of each day; it brought our mail and daily newspaper, an exchange to the Gazette ; and occasionally it brought a passenger. After resting from ray long walk I decided to go on to Re- public county, Kansas, and take a homestead. There were no roads on the prairie beyond Marks' mill, and I used a pocket compass to keep the general direction, and by the notches on the government stones determined my location. I found so much vacant government land that it was difficult to make a choice, and after two trips to the government land office at Junction City, located four miles east of the present town of Belleville. I built a dugout, and to prevent my claim being jumped, tacked a notice on the door, "Gone to hunt a wife." Returning to FAIRBURY AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES 143 Fairbury, I stopped over night with Rev. Ives Marks at Marks' mill. He put me to bed with a stranger, and in the morning when settling my bill, he said: "I'll charge you the regular price, fifteen cents a meal, but this other man must pay twenty cents, he was so lavish with the sugar." On this trip I walked four hundred and forty miles. Two years later I traded my homestead to Mr. Alfred Kelley for a shotgun, and at that time met his daughter Mary. Mary and I celebrated our fortieth, anniversary last May, with our children and grandchildren. The first schoolhouse in Fairbury was completed in Decem- ber, 1870, and for some time was used for church services, dances, and public gatherings. The first term of school began January 9, 1871, with P. L. Chapman for teacher. In December, 1871, I was employed to teach the winter and spring terms of school at a salary of fifty dollars a month, and taught in one room all the pupils of Fairbury and surrounding country. Mr. Cross announced in the Gazette that no town of its size in the state was so badly in need of a shoemaker as Fairbury, and he hoped some wandering son of St. Crispin would come this way. Just such a wandering shoemaker came in the person of Robert Christian, with all his clothes and tools in a satchel, and twenty-five cents in his pocket. He managed to get enough leather from worn-out boots given him to patch and halfsole others, and was soon prosperous. During the summer of 1871 C. F. Steele built a two-story building on the lot now occupied by the First National bank, the first floor for a furniture store, the second floor for a home. When nearly completed a hurricane demolished it and scattered the lumber over the prairie for two miles south. It was a hard blow on Mr. Steele. He gathered together the wind-swept boards and, undismayed, began again the building of his store and business. In the fall of 1871, William Allen and I built the Star hotel, a two-story building, on the east side, with accommodations for ten transient guests — large enough, we thought, for all time. In the early days of my hotel experience, I was offered some cabbages by a farmer boy — rather a reserved and studious look- ing lad. He raised good cabbages on his father's homestead a few miles north of town. After dickering awhile over the price, 144 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES I took his entire load. He afterwards said that I beat him down below cost of production, and then cleaned him out, while I in- sisted that he had a monopoly and the price of cabbages should have been regulated by law. Soon after, I M^as surprised to find him in my room taking an examination for a teacher's certificate, my room-mate being the county superintendent, and rather astonished, I said, ' ' What ! you teach school ? " — a remark he never forgot. He read law with Slocumb & Hambel, was some time afterwards elected county attorney and later judge of this district. Ten years ago he was elected one of the judges of the supreme court of the state of Nebraska, and this position he still fills with distinguished ability. I scarcely need to mention that this was Charles B. Letton. A celebration was held on July 4, 1871, at Mattingly's saw- mill, and enthusiasm and patriotism were greatly stimulated by the blowing of a steam whistle which had recently been installed in the mill. Colonel Thomas Harbine, vice-president of the St. Joseph & Denver City R. R. Co., now the St. Joseph & Grand Island railroad, made the principal address, his subject being "The railroad, the modem civilizer, may we hail its advent." The Otoe Indian, Jim Whitewater, got drunk at this celebration, and on his way to the reservation murdered two white men who were encamped near Rock creek. He was arrested by the In- dians, brought to Fairbury, and delivered to the authorities, after which chief Pipe Stem and chief Little Pipe visited the Gazette office and watched the setting of type and printing on the press with many a grunt of satisfaction. I was present at the trial of Whitewater the following spring. After the verdict of guilty was brought in, Judge 0. P. Mason asked him if he had anything to say why judgment should not be pronounced. Whitewater proceeded to make a lengthy speech, ridiculed the former sheriff, S. J. Alexander, and commenced criticizing the judge. The judge ordered him to sit down. A look of livid rage came over Whitewater's face, and he stooped slightly a^ though to spring. Then the judge turned pale, and in that rasping voice which all who knew him remember well, com- manded the sheriff to seat the prisoner, which was done. The spring of 1872 marked a new era in the life of Fairbury. On March 13th of tliat year the St. Joseph and Denver City rail- road built into and through our city. From the time the track- FAIRBURY AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES 145 layers struck Jenkin 's Mills, a crowd of us went down every day to see the locomotive and watch the progress of the work. One of our fondest dreams had come true. In the fall of 1873 Col. Thomas Harbine began the erection of the first bank building, a one-story frame structure on the east side of the square. George Cross was the bank's first customer, and purchased draft No. 1. Upon the death of Col. Harbine 's son John, in August, 1875, I became cashier, bookkeeper, teller, and janitor of the "Banking House of Thomais Harbine." In 1882 this bank incorporated under the state banking law as the "Harbine Bank of Fairbury," and I have been connected with it in various capacities ever since. We had our pleasures in those pioneer days, but had to make them ourselves. Theatrical troupes never visited us — we were not on the circuit — but we had a dramatic company of our own. Mr. Charles B. Slocumb, afterwards famous as the author of the Slocumb high license law, was the star actor in the club. A local critic commenting on our first play said: "Mr. Slocumb as a confirmed drunkard was a decided success. W. W. Watson as a temperance lecturer was eminently fitted for his part. G. W. Hansen as a hard-up student would have elicited applause on any stage." Election days in those "good old times" gave employment to an army of workers sent out by candidates to every precinct to make votes, and to see that those bought or promised were de- livered. John McT. Gibson of Gibson precinct, farmer, green- backer, and poet, read an original poem at a Fourth of July celebration forty years ago, one verse of which gives us an idea of the bitterness of feeling existing in the political parties of that time : "Unholy Mammon can unlock the doors Of congress haJls and legislative floors. Dictate decisions of its judges bought, And poison all the avenues of thought. Metes out to labor miseries untold. And grasps forever at a crown of gold." I do not care to live too much in the past ; but when the day 's work is done, I love to draw aside the curtain that hides the in- tervening years, and in memory live over again Fairbury 's 146 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES pioneer days of the early seventies. Grasshoppers and drouth brought real adversity then, for, unlike the present, we were un- prepared for the lean years. But we had hope and energy, and pulled together for the settlement of our county and the growth and prosperity of Fairbury. We dreamed then of the days to come — when bridges should span the streams, and farm houses and fields of grain and com should break the monotony of the silent, unending prairie. We were always working for better things to come — for the future. The delectable mountains were always ahead of us — would we ever reach them ? THE EARLIEST ROMANCE OF JEFFERSON COUNTY, NEBRASKA By George W. Hansen One hundred and three years ago Hannah Norton was born "away down east" in the state of Maine. Hannah married Jason Plummer, and in the year 1844, seized by the wanderlust, they decided to move west. One morning their little daughter Eleanor, four years old, stood outside the cabin door with her rag doll pressed tightly to her breast, and watched her parents load their household goods into the heavy, covered wagon, yoke up the oxen, and make preparations for a long journey. As little Eleanor clambered up the wheel and into the wagon, she felt none of the responsibilities of the long pioneer life that lay before her, nor did she know or care about her glorious an- cestry. Only a few decades previous her ancestor. Major Peter Nor- ton, who had fought gallantly in the war of the Revolution, had gone to his reward. His recompense on earth had been the con- sciousness of patriotic duty well performed in the cause of lib- erty and independence. A hero he was, but the Maine woods were full of Revolutionary heroes. He was not yet famous. It was reserved for Peter Norton's great-great-great-granddaugh- ters to perpetuate the story of his heroic deeds. One, Mrs. Auta Helvey Pursell, the daughter of our little Eleanor, is now a member of Quivera chapter, D. A. R., of Fairbury, Nebraska, and another, Lillian Norton, is better known to the world she has charmed with her song, as Madame Nordica. But little Eleanor was wholly unmindful of past or future on that morning long ago. She laughed and chattered as the wagon rolled slowly on its westward way. A long, slow, and painful journey through forests and over mountains, then down the Ohio river to Cincinnati was at last finished, and the family made that city their home. After sev- eral years the oxen were again yoked up and the family trav- eled to the West, out to the prairies of Iowa, where they re- 147 148 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES mained until 1863. Then, hearing of a still fairer eountiy where free homes could be taken in fertile valleys that needed no clearing, where wild game was abundant and chills and fever unknown, Jason, Hannah, and Eleanor again traveled westward. After a toilsome journey they settled in Swan creek valley, Nebraska teiTitory, near the present northern line of Jeffei*son county. Theirs were pioneer surroundings. The only residents were ranchei's scattered along the creeks at the crossings of the Ore- gon trail. A few immigrants came that year and settled in the valleys of the Sandys, Swan creek, Cub creek. Rose creek, and the Little Blue. No human habitation stood upon the upland prairies. The population was four-fifths male, and the young men traveled up and down the creeks for miles seeking partners for their dances, which were often given. But it was always necessary for a number of men to take the part of ladies. In such cases they wore a handkerchief around one arm to distin- guish them. The advent of a new family into the country was an important event, and especially when a beautiful young lady formed a part of it. The families of Joel Helvey and Jason Plummer became neighborly at once, visiting back and forth with the friendly intimacy characteristic of all pioneers. Paths were soon worn over the divide between Joel Helvey 's ranch on the Little Sandy and the Plummer home on Swan creek, and one of Joel's boys was accused of making clandestine rambles in that direction. Certain it was that many of the young men who asked Eleanor for her company to the dances were invariably told that Frank Helvey had already spoken. Their dejection was explained in the vernacular of the time — they had ' ' gotten the mitten. ' ' The music for the dances was furnished by the most energetic fiddlers in the land, and the art of playing "Fisher's Horn- pipe," "Devil's Dream," and "Arkansaw Traveler" in such lively, triumphant tones of the fiddle as played by Joe Bater and Hiram Helvey has been lost to the world. Sometimes dis- putes were settled either before or after the dance by an old- fashioned fist fight. In those days the accepted policy was that if you threshed your adversary soundly, the controversy was settled — there was no further argument about it. At one dance on the Little Sandy some "boys" from the Blue decided to ROMANCE OF JEFFERSON COUNTY 149 "clear out" the ranchers before the dance, and in the lively- melee that followed, Frank Helvey inadvertently got his thumb in his adversary's mouth; and he will show you yet a scar and cloven nail to prove this story. The ranchers more than held their own, and after the battle invited the defeated party to take part in the dance. The invitation was accepted and in the morning all parted good friends. On August 6, 1864, the Overland stage, which had been turned back on its way to the west, brought news that the Sioux and Cheyenne were on the war-path. They had massacred entire settlements on the Little Blue and along the trail a few miles west, and were planning to kill every white person west of Beatrice and MarysviUe. For some time the friendly old Indians had told Joel Helvey that the young men were chanting the old song; ' ' Some day we shall drive the whites back Across the great salt water Whence they came; Happy days for the Sioux When the whites go back." Little attention had been paid to these warnings, the Helvey family believing they could take care of themselves as they had during the past eighteen years in the Indian country. But the report brought by the stage was too alarming to be disregarded; and the women asked to be taken to a place of safety. At this time Mrs. Plummer and her daughter Eleanor were visiting at the home of Joel Helvey. They could not return to Swan creek, for news had come that all Swan creek settlers had gone to Beatrice. There was no time to be lost. The women and father Helvey, who was then in failing health, were placed in wagons, the boys mounted horses to drive the cattle, and all * ' struck out ' ' over the trail following the divide towards MarysviUe, where breastworks had been thrown up and stockades had been built. During the day Frank found many excuses to leave the cattle with his brothers while he rode close to the wagon in which Eleanor was seated. It was a time to try one's courage and he beguiled the anxious hours with tales of greater dangers than the impending one and assured her, with many a vow of love, 150 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES that he could protect her from any attack the Indians might make. The first night the party camped at the waterhole two miles northwest of the place where now an imposing monument marks the crossing of the Oregon trail and the Nebraska-Kansas line. Towards evening of the next day they halted on Horseshoe creek. In the morning it was decided to make this their per- manent camp. There was abundant grass for their stock, and here they would cut and stack their winter hay. A man in the distance saw the camp and ponies, and mistak- ing the party for Indians, hurried to Marysville and gave the alarm. Captain Hollenberg and a squad of militia came out and from a safe distance investigated with a spyglass. Finding the party were white people he came down and ordered them into Marysville. The captain said the Indians would kill them all and, inflamed by the bloodshed, would be more ferocious in their attack on the stockade. The Helveys preferred taking their chances with the Indians rather than leave their cattle to the mercies of the Kansas Jay- hawkers, and told the captain that when the Indians came they would get to Marysville first and give the alarm. Their camp was an ideal spot under the grateful shadow of noble trees. The songs of birds in the branches above them, the odor of prairie flowers and the new-mown hay about them, lent charm to the scene. Two of the party, at least, lived in an en- chanted land. After the blistering heat of an August day Frank and Eleanor walked together in the shadows and coolness of night and watched the moon rise through the trees. And here was told the old, old story, world old yet ever new. Here were laid the happy plans for future years. And yet through all these happy days there ran a thread of sorrow. Father Joel Helvey failed rapidly, and on September 3 he passed away. After he was laid to rest, the entire party returned to the ranch on Little Sandy. The day for the wedding, September 21, at last arrived. None of the officers qualified to perform marriage ceremonies having returned since the Indian raid, Frank and Eleanor, with Frank's sister as chaperon, drove to Beatrice. On arriving there they were delighted to meet Eleanor's father. His consent to the ROMANCE OF JEFFERSON COUNTY 151 marriage was obtained and he was asked to give away the bride. The marriage parity proceeded to Judge Towle's cabin on the Big Blue where the wedding ceremony was solemnly performed and *'Pap" Towle gave the bride the first kiss. And thus, just fifty years ago, the first courtship in Jefferson county was consummated. EXPERIENCES ON THE FRONTIER By Frank Helvey I was bom July 7, 1841, in Huntington county, Indiana. My father, Joel Helvey, decided in 1846 to try his fortune in the far West. Our family consisted of father, mother, three boys, and three girls. So two heavy wagons were fitted up to haul heavy goods, and a light wagon for mother and the girls. The wagons were the old-fashioned type, built very heavy, carrying the customary tar bucket on the rear axle. Nebraska was at this time in what was called the Indian country, and no one was allowed to settle in it. We stopped at old Fort Kearny — now Nebraska City. In a short time we pulled up stakes and housed in a log cabin on the Iowa side. Father, two brothers — Thomas and Whitman — and I con- structed a ferry to run across the Missouri river, getting consent of the commandant at the fort to move the family over on the Nebraska side ; but he said we would have to take our chances with the Indians. We broke a small patch of ground, planting pumpkins, melons, com, etc. The Indians were very glad to see us and very friendly — in fact, too much so. When our com and melons began to ripen, they would come in small bands, gather the com and fill their blankets. It did no good for us to protest, so we boys thought we would scare them away. We hid in the bushes close to the field. Soon they came and were filling their blankets. We shot over their heads, but the Indians didn 't scare — they came running straight toward us. They gave us a little of our own medicine and took a few shots at us. We didn't scare any more Indians. When word came in the fall of 1858 that gold had been dis^ covered in Pike's Peak by the wagonload, that settled it. We got the fever, and in April, 1859, we started for Pike's Peak. We went by the way of Beatrice, striking the Overland trail near the Big Sandy. An ex-soldier, Tim Taylor, told us he be- lieved the Little Sandy to be the best place in southern Ne- braska. We built a ranch house on the trail at the crossing of 152 EXPERIENCES ON THE FRONTIER 153 Little Sandy and engaged in freighting from, the Missouri river to the Rocky Mountains. This we did for several years, receiv- ing seven to eight cents per pound. We hauled seven thousand to eight thousand pounds on a wagon, and it required from seventy-five to eighty days to make a round trip with eight and ten yoke of oxen to a wagon. I spent about nine years freight- ing across the plains from Atchison, Leavenworth, St. Joseph, and Nebraska City to Denver, hauling government supplies to Fort Laramie. In 1863-64 I served as substitute stage driver, messenger, or pony express rider. I have met at some time or another nearly every noted character or ' ' bad man ' ' that passed up and down the trail. I met Wild Bill for the first time at Rock Creek ranch. I met him often after the killing of McCan- les, and helped bury the dead. I was well acquainted with McCanles. Wild Bill was a remarkable man, unexcelled as a shot, hard to get acquainted with. Lyman, or Jack, Slade was considered the worst man-killer on the plains. The Indians did not give ua much trouble until the closing year of the civil war. Our trains were held up several times, being forced to corral. We were fortunate not to lose a man. I ha.ve shot at hundreds of Indians. I cannot say positively that I ever killed one, although I was considered a crack shot. I can remember of twenty or more staying with us one night, stretching out on their blankets before the fireplace, and depart- ing in the morning without making a move out of the way. The Pawnees and Otoes were very bitter toward the Sioux and Cheyennes. In the summer of 1862 over five hundred Indians were engaged in an all-day fight on the Little Blue river south of Meridian. That night over a hundred warriors danced around a camp-fire with the scalps of their foes on a pole, catch- ing the bloody scalp with their teeth. How many were killed we never knew. My brothers and I went on one special buffalo hunt with three different tribes of Indians — Otoes, Omahas, and Pawnees — about one thousand in all, on Rose creek, about where the town of Hubbell is situated. We were gone about four days. The In- dians would do all the killing. When they got what they wanted, then we boys would get our meat. There was plenty for all. The prairies were covered with buffalo ; they were never out of sight. On the 4th of July, 1859, six of us with two 154 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES wagons, four yoke of oxen to a wagon, Avent over on the Repub- lican where there were always thousands of buffalo. We were out two weeks and killed what meat we wanted. We always had a guard out at night when we camped, keeping the wolves from our fresh meat. We came home to the ranch heavily load- ed. We sold some and dried some for our o"«ti use. I homesteaded, June 13, 1866, on the Little Blue, five miles northwest of Fairbury, and helped the settlers looking for home- steads locate their land. My father, Joel Helvey, entered forty acres where we had established our ranch on Little Sandy in 1861, the first year any land was entered in this county. I was the first sheriff of this county; served four years, 1867-1870. No sheriff had qualified or served before 1867. County business was done at Big Sandy and Meridian, and at the houses of the county officers. We carried the county records around from place to place in gunny sacks. I am glad I participated in the earliest happenings of this county, and am proud to be one of its citizens. Mrs. Ellz.vbeth C. Langwobthy Seventh State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American Revolution. 1905-1906 LOOKING BACKWARD By George E. Jenkins Looking backward forty years and more, I feel as Longfellow so beautifully expresses it, "You may build more splendid habitations. Fill your rooms with sculpture and with paintings, But you cannot buy with gold the old associations," for in that time I have seen Fairbury grow from a little hamlet to a city of the first class, surrounded by a country that we used to call ''the Indian country," considered unfit for agricultural purposes, but today it blossoms as the rose and no finer land lies anywhere. I have read with great interest of the happenings of ten, twenty, thirty years ago as published each week in our Fairbury papers, but am going to delve into ancient history a little deeper and tell you from personal experience of the interesting picture presented to me forty-odd years ago, I think in the year '70 or '71, for I distinctly remember the day I caught the first glimpse of Fairbury. It was a bright and sunshiny morning in July. We had been making the towns in western Kansas and had got- ten rather a late start from Concordia the day before ; a storm coming up suddenly compelled us to seek shelter for the night. My traveling companion was A, V. Whiting, selling shoes, and I was selling dry-goods, both from wholesale houses in St. Jo- seph, Missouri. Mr. Whiting is well and honorably known in Fairbury as he was afterwards in business there for many years. He has been a resident of Lincoln for twenty-three years. There were no railroads or automobiles in the country at that time and we had to depend on a good pair of horses and a cov- ered spring wagon. We found a place of shelter at Marks' mill, located on Rose creek fifteen miles southwest of Fairbury, and here we stayed all night. I shall always remember our in- troduction there, viz : as we drove up to the house I saw a large, portly old man coming in from the field on top of a load of hay, 155 V 156 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES and as I approached him I said, "My name is Jenkins, sir — " but before I could say more he answered in a deep bass voice, saying, ''My name is Clodhopper, sir," which he afterwards ex- plained was the name that preachers of the United Brethren church were known by at that time. This man, Marks, was one of the first county treasurers of Jefferson county, and it is re- lated of him that while he was treasurer he had occasion to go to Lincoln, the capital of the state, to pay the taxes of the county, and being on horseback he lost his way and meeting a horseman with a gun across his shoulder, he said to the stranger, "I am treasurer of Jefferson county. My saddle-bags are full of gold and I am on the way to Lincoln to pay the taxes of the county, but I have lost my way. Pleas© direct me." Returning to my story of stopping over night at Rose creek: we were most hospitably entertained and at breakfast next morning we were greatly surprised on being asked if we would have wild or tame sweetening in our coffee, as this was the first time in all our travels we had ever been asked that question. We were told that honey was wild sweetening and sugar the tame sweetening. I cannot refrain from telling a little incident that occurred at this time. When we had our team hitched up and our sample trunks aboard, we asked Mr. Marks for our bill and were told we could not pay anything for our entertainment, and just then Mrs. Marks appeared on the scene. She had in her hand a lot of five and ten cent war shinplasters, and as she hand- ed them to Mr. Marks he said, ' ' Mother and I have been talking the matter over and as we have not bought any goods from you we decided to give you a dollar to help you pay expenses else- where ' ' ; and on our refusing to take it he said, ' ' I want you to take it, for it is worth it for the example you have set to my children. ' ' Politely declining the money and thanking our host and hostess for their good opinion and splendid entertainment, we were soon on our way to pay our first visit to Fairbury, We arrived about noon and stopped at a little one-story hotel on the west side of the square, kept by a man by the name of Hurd. After dinner we went out to see the town and were told it was the county seat of Jefferson county. The courthouse was a little one-story frame building and is now located on the west side of the square and known as Christian's candy shop. There was one large general store kept by Champlin & McDow- LOOKING BACKWARD 157 ell, a drag store, a hardware store, lumber yard, blacksmith shop, a schoolhouse, church, and a few small buildings scattered around the squaTe. The residences were small and widely scat- tered. Primitive conditions prevailed everywhere, and we were told the population was one hundred and fifty but we doubted it. The old adage reads, "Big oaks from little acorns grow," and it has been my privilege and great pleasure to have seen Fairbury "climb the ladder round by mund" until today it has a population of fifty-five hundred. THE EASTER STORM OF 1873 By Charles B. Letton Spring opened very early in the year 1873. Farmers plowed and haiTOwed the ground and sowed their oats and spring wheat V in February and March. The grass began to grow early in April and by the middle of the month the small-grain fields were bright green with the new crops. Most of the settlers on the uplands of Jefferson county were still living in dugouts or sod houses. The stables and barns for the protection of their live stock were for the most part built by setting forked posts in the ground, putting rough poles and brush against the sides and on the roof, and eovenng them with straw, prairie grass, or manure. Sometimes the bank of a ravine was made perpen- dicular and used as one side. The covering of the walls and roof of these structures needed continual renewal as the winds loos- ened it or as the spring rains caused it to settle. Settlei*s became careless about this early in the spring, thinking that the winter was over. The prairies were still bare of hedges, fences, or trees to break the winds or catch the drifting snow. Easter Sunday occurred on the thirteenth of April. For days before, the weather had been mild and the air delightful. The WTiter was then living alone in a dugout seven miles north of Fairbury in what is now the rich aaid fertile farming com- munity known as Bower. The granary stood on the edge of a ravine a short distance from the dugout. The stable or barn was partly dug into the bank of this ravine; the long side was to the north, while the roof and the south side were built of poles and straw in the usual fashion of those days. On the afternoon of Easter Sunday it began to rain and blow fix)m the northwest. The next morning I had been awake for some time w^aiting for daylight when I finally realized that the dim light coming from the windows was due to the fact that they were covered with snow drifts. I could hear the noise of the wind but had no idea of the fury of the tempest until I undertook to go outside to feed the stock. As soon as I opened the door I 158 THE EASTER STORM OF 1873 159 found that the air was full of snow, driven by a tremendous gale from the north. The fury of the tempest was indescribable. The air appeared to be a mass of moving snow, and the wind howled like a pack of furies. I managed to get to the granary for some oats, but on looking into the ravine no stable was to be seen, only an immense snow drift which abnost filled it. At the point where the door to the stable should have been there ap- peared a hole in the drift where the snow was eddying. On crawling into this I found that during the night the snow had drifted in around the horses and cattle, which were tied to the manger. The animals had trampled it under their feet to such an extent that it had raised them so that in places their backs lifted the flimsy roof, and the wind canying much of the cover- ing away, had filled the stable with snow until some of them were almost and others wholly bui'ied, except where the remains of the roof protected them. Two animals died while I was tiying to extricate them and at night I was compelled to lead two or three others into the front room of the dugout and keep them there until the storm was over in order to save their lives. It was only by the most stren- uous efforts I was able to get to the house. My clothing was stiff. The wind had driven the snow into the fabric, as it had thawed it had frozen again, until it fonned an external coating of ice. I had nothing to eat all day, having gone out before break- fast, and when night came and I attempted to build a fire in the cook stove I found that the storm had blown away the joints of stovepipe which projected through the roof and had drifted the hole so full of snow that the snow wa.s in the stove itself. I went on the roof, cleared it out, built a fire, made some coffee and warmed some food, then went to bed utterly fatigued and, restlessly tossing, dreajned all night that I was still in the snow drift working as I had worked all day. Many other settlers took their cattle and horses into their houses or dugouts in order to save them. Every ravine and hollow that ran in an easterly or westerly direction was filled with snow from rim to rim. In other localities cattle were driven many miles by this stonn. Houses, or rather shacks, were unroofed and people in them frozen to death. Travelers caught in the blizzard, who attempted to take refuge in ravines, 160 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES perished and their stiffened bodies were found when the drifts melted weeks afterward. Stories were told of people who had undertaken to go from their houses to their outbuildings and who, being blinded by the snow, became lost and either perished or nearly lost their lives, and of others where the settler in order to reach his well or his outbuildings in safety fastened a rope to the door and went into the storm holding to the rope in order to insure his safe return. Deer, antelope, and other wild animals perished in the more sparsely settled districts. The storm lasted for three days, not always of the same intensity, and freezing weather followed for a day or two thereafter. In a few days the sun shone, the snow melted, and spring reap- peared; the melting drifts, that lay for weeks in some places, being the only reminder of the severity of the storm. To old settlers in Nebraska and northern Kansas this has ever since been known as "The Easter Storm." In the forty -six yeara that I have lived in Nebraska there has only been one other winter storm that measurably approached it in intensity. This was the blizzard of 1888 when several people lost their lives. At that time, however, people were living in comfort; trees, hedges, groves, stubble, and cornfields held the snow so that the drifts were insignificant in comparison. The cold was more severe but the duration of the storm was less and no such wide- spread suffering took place. BEGINNINGS OF FAIRBURY By Joseph B. McDowell In the fall of 1868 my brother, W. G. McDowell, and I started from Fairbury, Illinois, for Nebraska. Arriving at Brownville, we were compelled to take a stage for Beatrice, as the only rail- road in the state was the Union Pacific. Brownville was a little river village, and Tecumseh was the only town between Brownville and Beatrice. It probably had one hundred inhabitants. There was only one house between it and Beatrice. The trip from Brownville to Beatrice took two days with a night stop at Tecumseh. The scenery consisted of rolling prairie covered with buffalo grass, and a few trees along the banks of Rock creek. We stopped for dinner at a house a few miles northeasl; of the present site of Endioott, where the Oregon trail stages changed horses. On our arrival at Beatrice we found a little village of about three hundred inhabitants. The only hotel had three rooms: a reception room, one bedroom with four beds — one in each comer — and a combination dining-room and kitchen. There was a schoolhouse fourteen by sixteen feet, but there were no churches. We bought a few town lots, entered two or three sec- tions of land, and decided to build a stone hotel, as there was plenty of stone along the banks of the Blue river, and in the water. We then took a team and spring-wagon and started to find a location for a county-seat for Jefferson county. We found the land where Fairbury is now located was not entered, so we en- tered it with the intention of making it the county-seat. On our return to Beatrice we let the contract for the stone hotel, which still stands today. We returned to Illinois, but the following February of 1869 I came back to look after the build- ing of the hotel. I bought a farm with buildings on it, and be- gan farming and improving the land I had entered. In the summer of 1869 my brother came out again, and we drove over to lay out the county-seat of Jefferson county, which we named 161 162 NEBRASI^^ PIONEER REMINISCENCES after Fairbury, Illinois, with the sanction of the county commis^ sioners. We shipped the machinery for a sa^\Tnill to Waterville, Kansas, and hauled it to Fairbuiy with teams. Judge Mat- tingly bought it and sawed all the lumber that was used for building around Fairbury. Armstrong Brothers started a small store in a shack. About 1870, I came over from Beatrice and built the first store building, on the east side of the square, which was replaced a few yeai*s ago by the J. D. Davis building. The Fairbury Roller Mill was built in 1873 by Col. Andrew J. Cropsey. I bought his interest in 1874 and have had it ever since. In 1880 I came to make my home in Fairbury and have watched its steady growth from its beginning, to our present thriving and beautiful little city of 1915. EARLY EXPERIENCES IN NEBRASKA By Elizabeth Porter Seymour In the spring of 1872, we came from Waterioo, Iowa, to Plym- outh, Nebraska. My husband drove through, and upon his ar- rival I came by train with my young brother and baby daughter four months old. When my husband came the previous fall to buy land, there was no railroad south of Crete, and he drove across the coun- try, but the railroad had since been completed to Beatrice. There was a mixed train, with one coach, and I was the only lady passenger. There was one young girl, who could not speak any English, but who had a card hung on her neck telUng where she was to go. The trainmen held a consultation and decided that the people lived a short distance from the track, in the vicinity of Wilber, so they stopped the train and made inquiries. Finding these people expected someone, we waited until they came and got the girl. My husband met me at Beatrice, and the next morning we started on a fourteen-mile drive to Plym- outh, perched upon a load of necessaries and baggage. We had bought out a homesteader, so we had a shelter to go into. This consisted of a cottonwood house fourteen by sixteen feet, unplastered, and with a floor of rough boards. It was a dreary place, but in a few days I had transformed it. One car- pet was put on the floor and another stretched overhead on the joists. This made a place to store things, and gave the room a better appearance. Around the sides of the room were tacked sheets, etc., making a white wall. On this we hung a few pic- tures, and when the homesteader appeared at the door, he stood amazed at our fine appearance. A rude lean-to was built to hold the kitchen stove and work-table. Many times that summer a feeling of intense loneliness at the dreary condition came over me, but the baby Helen, always happy and smiUng, drove gloom away. Then, in August, came the terrible blow of losing our baby blossom. Cholera infantum was the complaint. A young mother's ignorance of remedies, 163 164 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES and the long distance from a doctor, caused a delay that was fatal. Before we came, the settlers had built a log schoolhouse, with sod roof and plank seats. In the spring of 1872, the Congrega- tional Home Missionary Society sent Rev. Henry Bat^s otf Illinois to the field, and he organized a Congregational church of about twenty-five members, my husband and myself being charter members. For a time we had service in the log school- house, but soon had a comfortable building for services. Most of the land about Plymouth was owned by a railroad company, and they laid out a townsite, put up a two-story school- house, and promised a railroad soon. After yeare of waiting, the railroad came, but the station was about two miles north. Business went with the railroad to the new town, and the dis- tinction was made between New Plymouth and Old Plymouth. Prairie chickens and quail w^ere quite abundant during the first years, and buffalo meat could often be bought, being shipped from the western part of the state. In the droves of cattle driven past our house to the Beatrice market, I have oc- casionally seen a buffalo. Deer and wolves were sometimes seen, and coyotes often made havoc with our fowls, digging through the sod chicken house to rob the roosts. Rattlesnakes were frequently killed and much dreaded, but deaths from the bite were very rare, though serious illness often resulted. Prairie fires caused the greatest terror, and the yearly losses were large. Everyone plowed fire guards and tried to be pre- pared, but, with tall grass and weeds and a strong wind, fire would be carried long distances and sweep everything before it with great rapidity, Indians frequently camped on Cub creek for a few days in their journey from one resen^ation to another to visit. They would come to the houses to beg for food, and, though they never harmed us, we were afraid of them. More than once I have heard a slight noise in my kitchen, and on going out, found Indians in possession; they never knocked. I was glad to give them food and hasten their departure. In the summer of 1873, quite a party of us went to the Otoe resei'vation to see just how the Indians lived. We had two cov- ered wagons and one provision wagon. We cooked our food by EARLY EXPERIENCES IN NEBRASKA 165 a camp-fire, slept out of doors, and had a jolly time. We spent nearly one day on the reservation, visiting the agent's house and the school and peering into the huts of the Indians. At the schoolhouse the pupils were studious, but several of them had to care for papooses while studying, and the Indians were peering into the doors and windows, watching proceedings. Most of the Indians wore only a blanket and breech cloth, but the teacher was evidently trying to induce the young pupils to wear clothes, and succeeded in a degree. One boy amused us very much by wearing flour sacks for trousers. The sacks were simply ripped open at the end, the stamps of the brand being still upon them, one sack being lettered in red and the other in blue. Preparations were going on for a visit to the Omahas by a number of braves and some squaws, and they were domiing paint and feathers. The agent had received some boxes of clothing from the East for them, which they were eager to wear on their trip. Not having enough to fit them out, one garment was given to each, and they at once put them on. It was very ludicrous to see them, one with a hat, another with a shirt, an- other with a vest, etc. At last they were ready and rode away on their ponies. As we drove away, an Indian and squaw, with papoose, were just ahead of us. A thunder storm came up, and the brave Indian took away from the squaw her parasol and held it over his head, leaving her unprotected. Although the settlers on the upland were widely scattered, they were kind and neighborly, as a rule — ready to help each other in all ways, especially in sickness and death. One Thanks- giving a large number of settlers brought their dinners to the church, and after morning services enjoyed a good dinner and social hour together. That church, so important a factor in the community in early days, was disbanded but a few years ago. Pioneer life has many privations, but there are also very many pleasant experiences. PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS By Mrs. C. F. Steele Calvin F. Steele came to Nebraska in March, 1871, staying for a little time in Beatrice. He heard of a new town just start- ing called Fairbiiry. Thinking this might be a good place for one wdth very little capital to start in business, he decided to go there and see what the prospects were. Nearly all of the thirty- three miles was unbroken prairie, with no landmarks to guide one. Mr. Steele had hii*ed a horse to ride. Late in the after- noon the sky was overcast and a storm came up. He saw some distance ahead of him a little rise of ground, and urging his horse fonvard he made for that, hoping he might be able to catch sight of the town he sought. To his surprise he found himself on top of a dugout. The man of the house came rushing out. Mr. Steele explained and asked directions, only to find he was not near Fairbury as he he hoped. He was kindly taken in for the night, and while all slept in the one room, that was so clean and comfortable, and the welcome so kindly, a friendship w'as started that night, a friendship that grew and strengthened with the years and lasted as long as E. D. Brickley, the man of the dugout, lived. I arrived in Fairbury the first day of May, 1871. The morn- ing after I came I counted every building in the town, including all outbuildings having a i"oof. Even so I could only bring the grand total up to thirty. That sununer proved a veiy hot one — no ice, and very few buildings had a cellar. We rented for the summer a little home of three rooms. The only trees in sight were a few eottonwoods along the ravine that ran through the town and on the banks of the Little Blue river. How to keep milk sweet or butter cool was a pi-oblem. At last I thought of our well, still without a pump. I would put the eatables in a washboiler, put the cover on, tie a rope thi-ough the handles, and let the boiler down into the well. In late September a lady told me as her husband was going away she would bring her work and sit with me. I per- 166 PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 167 suaded her to stay for supper. I intended to have cold meat, a kind of custard known as ' ' floating island ' ' ; these with milk and butter were put down the well. After preparing the table I went out and drew up my improvised refrigerator, and remov- ing the cover went in with milk and butter. Returning almost instantly, the door closed with a bang and frightened a stray dog doubtless attracted by the smell of meat. He started to run and was so entangled in the ropes that as far as I could see, dog, boiler, and contents were still going. The whole thing was so funny I laughed at the time, and still do when I recall that scene of so long ago. HOW THE SONS OP GEORGE WINSLOW FOUND THEIR FATHER'S GRAVE By Mrs. C. F. Steele and George W. Hansen Statement by Mrs. Steele I have been asked to tell the story of how the sons of George Winslow found their father's grave. In April, 1911, it was my pleasure and privilege to go to Washington to attend the national meeting of the Daughters of the American Revolution. I went in company with Mrs. C. B. Letton as well as a number of other delegates from different parts of the state. While passing around to cast our votes for president general, an eastern lady noticing our badges ex- changed greetings with some of our delegates and expressed a wish to meet some one from Fairbury. She was told that Fair- bury had a delegate and I was called up to meet Mrs. Henry Winslow of Meriden, Connecticut. She greeted me cordially, saying her husband's father was a "Forty-niner" and while on his way to California was taken sick, died, and was buried by the side of the Oregon trail. In February, 1891, a letter ap- peared in a Boston paper from Rev. S. Goldsmith of Fairbury, Nebraska, saying that he had seen a grave with the inscription "Geo. Winslow, Newton, Ms. AE. 25" cut on a crude head- stone, and that he was ready to correspond with any interested party as to the lone grave or its silent occupant. This letter came to the notice of the sons of George Winslow, and they placed Mr. Goldsmith in communication with David Staples, of San Francisco, California, who was a brother-in-law of George Winslow and a member of the same company on the overland journey to California. Mr. Staples WTote him about the organization of the company, which was called the "Boston and Newton Joint Stock Associa- tion," and the sickness and death of George Winslow; but after this they heard nothing further from the Nebraska man. Mrs. Winslow asked me if I knew anything of the grave. I 168 Mrs. Charles B. Letton Eighth State Eegent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American Revohition. 1907-1908 THE SONS OF GEORGE WINSLOW 169 did not, but promised to make inquiries regarding it on my re- turn home. Soon after reaching home, Judge and Mrs. Letton came down from Lincoln and as guests of Mr. and Mrs. G. W. Hansen we were all dining together. The conversation turned to the trip Mrs. Letton and I had enjoyed together, and we told the story of the talk with Mrs. Winslow. To my great surprise and pleas- ure Judge Letton said, "Why, Mrs. Steele, I remember seeing, many years ago, close by the Oregon trail, somewhere near the head of Whiskey Run, a grave marked with a red sandstone, and it is probably the grave you are searching for. I believe Mr. Hansen can find it." A few days after this Mr, Hansen reported the finding of the grave. He said the headstone had been knocked down by a mower and dragged several rods away, and that he had replaced it upon the grave; that the inscription on the stone was as dis- tinct as though freshly cut. I at once wrote to Mrs. Winslow, giving her the facts, and telling her Mr. Hansen would gladly answer any questions and give such further information as she might wish. The grateful letter I received in reply more than compensated me for what I had done. Statement hy Mr. Hansen Upon a beautiful swell of the prairie between the forks of Whiskey Run, overlooking the charming valley of the Little Blue river, in a quiet meadow, five miles north and one mile west of Fairbury, close to the "old legitimate trail of the Oregon emi- grants, " is a lone grave marked with a red sandstone slab, twen- ty inches in height, of equal width, and six inches thick, on which is carved "Geo. Winslow, Newton, Ms. AE. 25." Through this meadow untouched by the plow may still be seen the deep, grass-grown furrows of the Oregon trail; and when George Winslow 's companions laid him at rest by its side, they buried him in historic ground, upon earth's greatest highway. To the honor of George Winslow 's comrades be it said they loved him so well that in their grief the feverish haste to reach the gold fields was forgotten, and every member did what he could to give him Christian burial and perpetuate his memory. They dug his grave very deep so that neither vandals nor wolves 170 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES would disturb him. They searched the surrounding country and found, two miles away, a durable quality of sandstone, which they fashioned with their rude tools for his monument, his uncle Jesse Winslow carving with great care his name, home, and age, and on a footstone the figures 1849. This service of love ren- dered him that day gave to his sons their father's grave, and enabled us sixty-three years afterwards to obtain the story of his life, and the story of the journey of his company to Cali- fornia. Of all the thousands of men who were buried by the side of the old trail in 1849 and 1850, the monument of George Winslow alone remains. All the rest, buried in gi*aves unmarked or marked with wooden slabs, have passed into oblivion. In June, 1912, it was my pleasure to meet George Winslow 's sons, Greorge E. of Waltham, Massachusetts, and Henry 0. at the home of the latter in Meriden, Connecticut. They were in- tensely interested in the incident of their father's death and in the protection of his grave. It was planned that they should obtain a granite boulder from near their father's home in which the old red sandstone set up by his companions in 1849 might be preserved, and a bronze tablet fashioned by Henry 0. Wins- low's hands placed upon its face. This has been done, and the monument was unveiled on October 29, 1912, with appropriate ceremonies. I learned from them that Charles Gould, then in the eighty- ninth year, the last survivor of the party, lived at Lake City, Minnesota. Mr. Gould kept a record of each day's events from the time the Boston and Newton Joint Stock Association left Boston until it arrived at Sutter's Fort, California. A copy of this interesting diary and a copy of a daguerrotype of Mr, Gould taken in 1849 are now in the possession of the Nebraska State Historical Society. The original letter written by George Winslow to his wife Eliza from Independence, Missouri, May 12, 1849, and the letter of Brackett Lord written at Fort Kearny June 17, 1849, describing Winslow 's sickness, death, and burial, and a copy of a daguerrotype of George Winslow taken in 1849, were given me by Mr. Henry 0. Winslow to present to the Ne- braska State Historical Society. From the Winslow memorial published in 1877, we learn that George Winslow was descended from Kenelm Winslow of Dort- THE SONS OF GEORGE WINSLOW 171 witch., England, whose two sons Edward and Kenehn emigrated to Leyden, Holland, and joined the Pilgrim church there in 1617. Edward came to America with the first company of emigrants in the Mayflower, December, 1620, and was one of the committee of four who wrote the immortal compact or Magna Charta. He became governor of Plymouth colony in 1833. His brother Kenelm came to America in the Mayflower with the long hin- dered remainder of the Pilgrim church on a later voyage. His son Kenelm Winslow was born at Plymouth, Massachu- setts, in 1635. His son, Josiah Winslow, boni 1669, established the business of cloth dressing at Freetown, Massachusetts. His son James Winslow, born 1712, continued his father's business, and was a colonel in the second regiment Massachusetts militia. His son Shadrach Winslow, born 1750, graduated at Yale in 1771 and became an eminent physician. At the outbreak of the Revolutionary war, being a gentleman of independent fortune, he fitted out a warship or a privateer, and was commissioned to attack the enemy on the high seas. He was captured off the coast of Spain, and confined in a dismal prison ship where he suffered much. His son Eleazer Winslow, born 1786, took up his abode in the Catskill mountains wath a. view to his health and while there at Ramapo, New York, on August 11, 1823, his son George Winslow was bom. The family moved to Newton, Mass., now a suburb of Boston, where George learned his father's trade, that of machinist and molder. In the same shop and at the same time, David Staples and Brackett Lord, who afterwards became brothers-in-law, and Charles Gould were learning this trade George Winslow was married in 1845. His first son, George Edward, was born May 15, 1846. His second son Henry O., was bom May 16, 1849, the day the father left the frontier town of Independence, Missouri, for California. The Boston and Newton Joint Stock Association consisted of twenty-five picked young men from Newton and the vicinity of Boston, each member paying $300 into the treasury. The in- cidents along the journey we obtain from Mr. Gould's excellent journal. They left Boston, April 16, 1849, traveling by rail to Buffalo, taking the steamer Baltic for Sandusky, Ohio, and then by rail to Cincinnati, where they arrived April 20, at 9 :00 o'clock p. m. V 172 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES They left Cincinnati April 23rd, on the steamer Griffin Yeat- man for St. Louis, and arrived there April 27th, then by steamer Bay State, to Independence, Missouri. The boat was crowded principally with passengers bound for California. A set of gamblers seated around a table well supplied with liquor kept up their game all night. Religious services were held on board on the Sabbath, Rev. Mr. Haines preaching the sennon. The usual exciting steamboat race was had, their boat leaving the steamer Alton in the rear, where, Mr. Gould remarks "we think she will be obliged to stay." On May 3rd, they landed at Independence, Missouri, and began Y . preparations for the overland journey. In the letter written by George Winslow to his wife, he says: ' ' We have no further anxiety about forage ; millions of buffalo have feasted for ages on these vast prairies, and as their num- ber have been diminished by reason of hunters, it is absurd to think we will not have sufficient grass for our animals. . . "We have bought forty mules which cost us $50 apiece. I have been appointed teamster, and had the good luck to draw the best wagon. I never slept better in my life. I always find myself in the morning — or my bed, rather — flat as a pan cake. As the dam thing leaks just enough to land me on terra firma by morning, it saves me the trouble of pressing out the wind; so who cares. . . "Sunday morning, May 13, 1849. This is a glorious morning and having curried my mules and washed my clothes and bathed myself, I can recommence writing to you Eliza. . . "We engaged some Mexicans to break the mules. To harness them they tied their fore legs together and threw them down. The fellows then got on them and wrung their ears, which like a nigger's shin, is the tenderest part. By that time they were docile enough to take the harness. The animals in many re- spects resemble sheep, they are very timid and when frightened will kick like thunder. They got six harnessed into a team, when one of the leaders, feeling a little mulish, jumped right straight over the other one's back. One fellow offered to bet the liquor that he could ride an unbroken one he had bought; the bet was taken — but he had no sooner mounted the fool mule than he landed on his hands and feet in a very undigni- fied manner; a roar of laughter from the spectators was his THE SONS OF GEORGE WINSLOW 173 reward. I suppose by this time you have some idea of a mule. . . "I see by your letter that you have the blues a little in your anxiety for my welfare. I do not worry about myself, then why do you for me? I do not discover in your letter any anxie- ty on your owoi account; then let us for the future look on the bright side and indulge in no more useless anxiety. It effects nothing, and is almost universally the bugbear of the imagina- tion. . . The reports of the gold region here are as encourag- ing as they were in Massachusetts. Just imagine to yourself seeing me return with from $10,000 to $100,000. . ." On May 16th this company of intrepid men started out upon the long overland trail to California. They traveled up the Kansas river, delayed by frequent rains and mud hub deep, ^ reaching the lower ford of the Kansas on the 26th, having ac- complished about fifty miles in ten days. The wagons were driven on flatboats and poled across by five Indians. The road now becoming dry, they made rapid progress until the 29th, when George Winslow was suddenly taken violently sick with the cholera. Two others in the party were suffering with symp- toms of the disease. The company remained in camp three days and the patients having so far recovered, it was decided to pro- ceed. Winslow 's brothers-in-law, David Staples and Brackett Lord, or his uncle, Jesse Winslow, were with him every moment, giving him every care. As they journeyed on he continued to improve. On June 5th they camped on the Big Blue, and on the 6th, late in the afternoon, they reached the place where the trail crosses the present Nebraska-Kansas state line into Jefferson county, Nebraska. Mr. Gould writes: "About a half hour before sunset a terrific thunder shower arose, which baffles de- scription, the lightning flashes dazzling the eyes, and the thun- der deafening the ears, and the rain falling in torrents. It was altogether the grandest scene I have ever witnessed. When the rain ceased to fall the sun had set and darkness closed in. ' ' To this storm is attributed Greorge Winslow 's death. The next morning he appeared, as well as usual, but at 3 o'clock became worse, and the company encamped. He failed rapidly, and at 9 o 'clock a. m., the next day, the 8th of June, 1849, pain- lessly and without a struggle, he sank away as though going to sleep. He \vas taken to the center of the corral, where funeral 174 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES services were perfoniied, by reading from the scriptures by Mr. Burt, and prayer by Mr. Sweetser. He was then borne to the grave by eight bearers, and followed by the rest of the com- pany. Tears rolled do-w-n the cheeks of those strong men as each deposited a green sprig in the open grave. For him the trail ended here — in these green pastures. AU the rest of his company traveled the long old trail across plains, mountains, and deserts, and reached the fabled gardens and glittering sands of El Dorado, only to find them the ashes of their hopes. He alone of all that company was never disillu- sioned. EARLY DAYS IN JEFFERSON COUNTY By I^Irs. M. H. Weeks When I look upon the little city of Fairbuiy and see the beau- tiful trees, fine lawns, and comfortable homes, it is hard to real- ize the feelings I had in July, 1873, when as a bride, coming from the dear old Granite state, we came to our future home. I wanted to "go on" somewhere else, for everything that is usually green was so parched and dreary looking and desolate. The only trees were at the homes of L. C. Champlin and S. G. Thomas. We spent the night at the Purdy house, and the following day drove to our homestead ; and in fording the river where the Weeks bridge is now, the water poured into the express wagon (finest conveyance in town) driven by Will Hubbell. At least two of the party were much alarmed — our sister Mary Weeks and the writer. It was the first of many peculiar experiences, such as taking my Slewing and a rocking chair, on a hayrack, to the hay field, rather than stay home alone for fear of the Otoe Indians. The first intimation of their presence would be their faces pressed against the window glasis, and that would give one a creepy feel- ing. I have ridden to town many times on loads of sand, rock, and hay ; and when the ford was impassable with wagons, I would go on horseback, with arms around the neck of faithful Billy, and eyes closed for fear of tumbling off into the water. On the re- turn trip both of our horses would be laden with bags of pro- visions. In 1867 my husband M'^ent with a party of twenty-five on a buffalo hunt with a man by the name of Soules as guide. They secured plenty of elk, deer, and buffalo. The wagons were formed in a circle, to corral the horses and mules nights for fear of an attack by the Indians; each one taking turns as sentinel. The mules would always whistle if an Indian was anywhere near, so he felt secure even if he did sleep a little. They only saw the Indians at a distance as they were spearing the buffalo. All things have surely changed, and now we ride in autos in- stead of covered wagons. What will the next fifty years bring ? 175 LOCATION OF THE CAPITAL AT LINCOLN By John H. Ames By an act of the legislature, approved June 14, 1867, it was provided that the governor, secretary, and auditor of state, should be conimissioners for the purpose of locating the seat of government and public buildings of the state of Nebraska, and they were vested with the necessary powers and authority for proceeding, as soon as practicable, to effect that purpose, and re- quired on or before the fifteenth day of July in the same year, to select from among certain lands belonging to the state, and lying within the counties of Seward, Saunders, Butler, and Lancaster, "a suitable site, of not less than six hundred and forty acres lying in one body, for a town, due regard being had to its accesi- sibility from all portions of the state and its general fitness for a capital." The commissioners were also required, immediately upon such selections being made, to appoint a competent surveyor and pro- ceed to ' ' survey, lay off and stake out the said tract of land into lots, blocks, streets, alleys, and public squares or reservations for public buildings ' ' ; and the act declared that such town when so laid out and sui'veyed, should "be named and known as Lin- coln," and the same was thereby declared to be "the permanent seat of government of the state of Nebraska, at which all the public offices of the state should be kept, and at which all the ses- sions of the legislature thereof should be held. ' ' The act further provided that the lots in the alternate blocks, not reserved as aforesaid, in said town, should, after notice thereof had been given by advertisement for the time and in the manner therein prescribed, be offered for sale to the highest and best bidder ; and the commissioners were authorized, after having held the sale for five successive days, as therein provided, at Lincoln, Nebraska City, and Omaha, to adjourn the same to be held at such other place or places within or without the state, as they might see proper, provided that at such sales no lots should be sold for a less price than a minimum to be fixed on 176 LOCATION OF THE CAPITAL AT LINCOLN 177 each lot by the oommissioners, previous to the opening of the sales. All moneys received for the sale of said lots were de- clared to be a state building fund, and were directed to be de- posited in the state treasury and kept separate from all other funds for that purpose. Notice was directed to be issued im- mediately after the sale of lots, asking from architects plans and specifieutions for a building, the foundation of which should be of stone, and the superstructure of stone or brick, which should be suitable for the two houses of the legislature and the execu- tive offices of the state, and which might be designed as a por- tion of a larger edifice, but the cost of which should not exceed fifty thousand dollars. Provision was also made for the letting of the contract for its construction, and appointing a superin- tendent thereof, and also for the erection at Lincoln, as soon as sufficient funds therefor could be secured by the sale of public lands or otherwise, of a state university, agricultural college, and penitentiary; but no appropriation, other than of the state lands and lots as above described, was made for the aid of any of the enterprises herein mentioned. What was the result of sending three men fifty miles out into an unbroken, and at that time, almost unknown prairie, to speak into existence simply by the magic of their own unconquerable, though unaided, enterprise and perseverance, a city that should not only be suitable for the seat of government of the state, but should be able, almost as soon as its name was pronounced, to contribute from its own resources sufficient funds for the erec- tion of a state house and other necessary public state buildings, remains to be seen. It appears from the report of the commissioners, made to the senate and house of representatives at its first regular session, held in January, 1869, that, having provided themselves with an outfit, and employed Mr. Augustus F. Harvey, as surveyor, to ascertain the location of the lines of the proposed sites, they left Nebraska City on the afternoon of the 18th of July, 1867, for the purpose of making the selection required in the act. After having visited and examined the town sites of Saline City, or "Yankee Hill," and Lancaster, in Lancaster county, they proceeded to visit and examine the several proposed sites in each of the counties named in the act, in which occupations they were engaged until the twenty-ninth of the same month. 178 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES when they returned, and made a more thorough examination of the two sites above referred to, at which time the favorable im- pressions received of Lancaster on their first visit were con- firmed. Says the report: "We found a gently undulating surface, its principal eleva- tion being near the centre of the proposed new site. The village already established being in the midst of a thrifty and consider- able agricultural population; rock, timber, and water power available within short distances; the centre of the great saline region within two miles; and in addition to all other claims, the special advantage was that the location was at the centre of a circle, of about 110 miles in diameter, along or near the circum- ference of which are the Kansas state line directly south, the important towns of Pawnee City, Nebraska City, Plattsmouth, Omaha, Fremont, and Columbus. . . Under these circum- stances we entertained the proposition of the people residing in the vicinity of Lancaster, offering to convey to the state in fee simple the west half of the west half of section 25, the east half and the southwest quarter of section 26, which, with the north- west quarter of section 26 (the last named quarter being saline land), all in town 10, range 6 east; the whole embracing 800 acres, and upon which it was proposed to erect the new town. In addition, the trustees of the Lancaster Seminary Association proposed to convey to the state, for an addition to the site named in the foregoing proposition, the town site of Lancaster, reserv- ing, however, certain lots therein which had been disposed of in whole or in part to the purchasers thereof. ' ' After being satisfied of the sufficiency of the titles proposed to be conveyed to the state, and having carefully "considered all the circumstances of the condition of the saline lands, the ad- vantage of the situation, its central position, and the value of its surroundings over a district of over twelve tJiousand square miles of rich agricultural country, it was determined to accept the proposition made by the owners of the land. ' ' Accordingly on the afternoon of the 29th of July the commissioners as- sembled at the house of W. T. Donavan, in Lancaster, and by a unanimous vote formally declared the present site of the capital city of Lincoln, which action was first made public by a proc- lamation issued on the 14th day of August next following. On the 15th of August, Messrs. Harvey and Smith, engineers, with a corps of assistants, commenced the survey of the town. . LOCATION OF THE CAPITAL AT LINCOLN 179 the design being calculated for the making of a beautiful city. The streets are one hundred and twenty feet wide, and all ex- cept the business streets capable of being improved with a street park outside the curb line ; as, for instance : On the one hun- dred feet streets, pavements twelve feet wide and a park or double row of trees outside the pavement, and planted twelve feet apart so as to admit of a grass plat between, may be made on both sides the street. This will leave on the one hundred feet streets a roadway fifty-two feet wide ; with pavements as above, and parks fifteen feet wide, will leave a roadway on the one hundred and twenty feet streets of sixty feet ; while on the busi- ness streets a ninety-foot roadway was thought to be amply sufficient for the demands of trade. Reservations of about twelve acres each were made for the state house, state university, and a city park, these being at about equal distances from each other. Reservations of one block each were made for a courthouse for Lancaster county, for a city hall and market space, for a state historical and library association, and seven other squares in proper locations for public schools. Reservations were also made of three lots each in desirable locations for ten religious denominations, upon an understanding with the parties making the selections on behalf of the several denominations, that the legislature would require of them a condition that the property should only be used for religious purposes, and that some time would be fixed within which suitable houses of wor- ship, costing not less than some reasonable minimum amount, should be erected One lot each was al^ reserved for the use of the Independent Order of Good Templars, and Odd Fellows, and the order of Ancient Free and Accepted Masons. These reservations were afterwards confirmed by the legislature, with conditions recommended by the commissioners, and religious de- nominations were required to build on their reserved lots pre- vious to or during the summer of 1870. In anticipation of the completion of the survey, due adver- tisement thereof was made as pro\dded by law, and a sale of lots opened at Lincoln on the 17th day of September, for the purpose of raising the necessary funds for commencing the construction of the state house. Owing to the unpropitious state of the weather but few bid- 180 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES ders were present, and the results of the first day's sales were light and disheartening; during their continuation, however, circumstances were changed for the better, and at the end of five days $34,000 had been realized. Subsequent sales were held at Nebraska City and Omaha, which by the fourth day of Octo- ber had increased that amoimt to the sum of $53,000. Sales were subsequently held at Lincoln on the seventeenth of June and September, 1868, from which were realized the sum of $22,580. On the tenth of September, 1867, the commissioners issued their notice to architects, inviting, for a period of thirty days, plajis and specifications for a state house ; and upon the tenth of October, after having considered the merits of the several plans presented, they concluded to accept that of Prof. John Morris, of Chicago, whom they thereupon appointed superin- tendent of construction, and issued notice to builders, inviting proposals for a term of three months, for the erection of the work; Prof. Morris in the meantime commencing such prelim- inary work as excavations for foundations, delivery of material for foundation, and other arrangements as should tend to facil- itate the progress of the work aft^r the contract was let. On the tenth of November the superintendent caused the ground to be broken in the presence of a number of the citizens of Lancaster, the removal of the first earth being awarded to Master Frele Morton Donavan, the first child bom in, and the youngest child of the oldest settler of Lancaster county. On the eleventh of January, 1868, the bid of Mr. Joseph Ward, proposing to furnish the material and labor, and erect the building contemplated in the contract for the sum of $49,000, was accepted, and from that time forward the work steadily progressed, with the exception of a few unavoidable delays, un- til its couipletion. On account, however, of the increasing wants of the state, the difficulties attending, the changes of material and increased amount of work and additional accommodation found necessary and advisable, the commissionei's deemed it expedient to exceed the amount of expenditure contemplated in the statute; the ad- ditional expense being defrayed from the proceeds of the sales of lots and lands appropriated for that purpose. It was originally intended that the walls of the building should be built of red sandstone, and faced with blue limestone, LOCATION OF THE CAPITAL AT LINCOLN 181 but upon proceeding with the work the architect and builder found that the difficulties attending the procuration of the last named material would, unless the object was abandoned, result in an impossibility of the completion of the work at contract prices ; and in so far retarding its progress as to prevent its erec- tion in time for the use of the next siession of the legislature. Its use, therefore, was accordingly abandoned, and it was decided to substitute in lieu thereof the magnesian limestone of Beatrice, which the experience of the architect had proved to be of far better character for building purposes than the blue limestone, it being less liable to wear or damage from frost or fire or any other action of the elements. This change having been made, the work was pushed vigor- ously forward, and on the third day of December, 1868, was so far completed as to be ready for the occupancy of the state of- ficers, and the governor, therefore, on that day issued his proc- lamation announcing the removal of the seat of government from Omaha to Lincoln and ordering the transportation of the ar- chives of the state to the new eapitol. AN INCIDENT IN THE HISTORY OF LINCOLN By Ortha C. Bell On February 1, 1872, I arrived in Lincoln, the capital of the state. About the middle of January, 1875, the residents of Lin- coln were greatly startled at seeing- a man, shoeless and coatless, mounted on a horse without saddle or bridle, coming down Eleventh street at full speed, and crying at the top of his voice, "Mutiny at the pen!" The man proved to be a guard from the penitentiary heralding the news of this outbreak and calling for help. The prisoners had taken advantage of the absence of Warden Woodhurst, overpowered Deputy Warden C. J. Nobes, bound and gagged the guard. The leader, Quinn Bohanan, dis- robed the deputy warden, exchanged his own for the clothing and hat of the deputy, and produced the effect of a beard with charcoal. This disguise was all so complete that the guards did not detect the ruse when the prisoners were marched through the yards, supposed to be in charge of the deputy. When on the inside of the prison they used the warden's family as hostages and took possession of the arsenal, and were soon in command of the situation. The man on horseback had spread the news through the city in a very short time and soon hundreds of men with all kinds of guns had left their places of business and gone to the peniten- tiary, which they surrounded, holding the prisoners within the walls. The governor wired for a detail from the regulars, stationed at Fort Omaha, and with all possible haste they were rushed to the scene. They were soon in charge of the situation, and nego- tiations were begun for a restoration of normal conditions, which result was attained in three days' time. During all this time Warden Woodhurst was on the outside of the walls and his brave little wife, with their two small children, were on the inside. Mrs. Woodhurst used all the diplomacy at her command to save her own life and that of the two children. She and the children had served as shields to the prisoners, pro- 182 LOCATION OF THE CAPITAL AT LINCOLN 183 tecting them from the bullets of the soldiers on the firing line around the penitentiary. The incident closed without loss of life to citizen or prisoner, but has left a lasting impression on the minds of those who were present. LINCOLN IN THE EARLY SEVENTIES By (Mrs. O. C.) Minnie DeEtte Polley Bell In the spring of 1874 my father, Hiram Polley, came from Ohio to Lincoln, I being a young lady of nineteen years. To say that the new country with its vast prairies, so different from our beautiful timber country, produced homesickness, would be putting it mildly. My parents went on to a farm near what is now the town of Raymond, I remaining in Lincoln with an aunt, Mrs. Watie E. Gosper. My father built the bam as soon as possible and this was used for the house until after the crops were put in, then work was begun on the house that they might have it before cold weather. The first trouble that came was the devastating plague of grasshoppers which swept over this section of the country in the years 1874 and 1875. Not long after this a new trouble was upon us. The day dawned bright and fair, became hotter and more still, until presently in the distance there could be seen the effects of a slight breeze; this however was only the advance of a terrible windstorm. When the hurricane had passed, the barn, which only a few months before had served as the house, was in ruins. Undaunted, my father set about to rebuild the barn, M^hich still remains on the fann; the farm, however, is now owned by other parties. In the winter of 1875 there was quite a fall of snow, and one of the funny sights was a man driving down street with a horse hitched to a rocking chair. Everything that could be used for a sleigh was pressed into service. This was a strange sight to me, having come from Ohio where we had from three to four months of sleighing with beautiful sleighs and all that goes to make up a merry time. During this winter many were using corn for fuel and great quantities were piled on the ground, which of coui'se made rats very plentiful — so much so that when walking on the streets at dusk one would almost have to kick them out of the way or wait for them to pass. 184 LINCOLN IN THE EARLY SEVENTIES 185 In the course of time a young man appeared upon the scene, and on December 10, 1874, I was married to Ortha C. Bell. We were married in the house which now stands at the northeast comer of Twelfth and M streets, then the home of my aunt, Mrs. Gosper. Four children were born to us : the first, a daugh- ter, dying in infancy; the second, Jennie Bell-Ringer, of Lin- coln; the third, a son, Ray Hiram Bell, dying at the age of three; and the fourth, a daughter. Hazel Bell-Smith. Two grandchildren have come to brighten our lives, DeEtte Bell Smith and Edmund Burke Smith. Our home at 931 D street, which we built in 1886, is still occupied by us. A PIONEER BABY SHOW By (Mrs. Fr^vnk I.) Jennie Bell-Ringer I am a Nebraska product, having been bom in the city of Lincoln, just across the street from the state university, on R street, between Eleventh and Twelfth. When yet veiy young my proud mother entered me in an old- fashioned baby show which w^as held iin the old opera house, known as "The Hallo Opera House." This show was not con- ducted as the "Better Babies" contest of today is conducted, but rather along the line of a game of chance. The judges went around and talked and played with the various babies. The baby that made the best impression on the judges, or perhaps, more coiTectly speaking, the baby that was on its good behavior, was the one that made the best impression on the judges. To make a long story sliort, I evidently, at that tender age, knew when to put on my company manners, and when the prizes were awarded, I held the lucky number and rode away in a handsome baby bu^y, the firet prize. The second prize w^as awarded to John Dean Ringer, second son of Mr. and Mi*s. Bradford Ringer. The third prize was given to Hariy Hardenbui-g; and an impromptu fourth prize was awarded to a colored baby. The day I was married my newly acquired brother, in bestow- ing good wishes upon me, said there was only one fault he had to find with me, and upon inquiry as to what that might be, he answered, "You took tlie first prize away from me at tbe baby show. ' ' 186 o W d o W D O •* .® o 00 ^ r-t 0) ^ CO -t^ 3 cS fc>£) 3 ^ «< .2 .^ aT ^ jj "o s > 0; ■^ « O 5 sT 01 .2 w 2 Oi o =? "^ ^ Ph t3 rt M 03 cS • ^ ^H ^ 2 IB o Oj o -C <3; &I) J2 D -M cS ft ac C Ol ■ r-l ^ -M 03 ^ k> O ^ c ("^ e E o o « O W MARKING THE SITE OF THE LEWIS AND CLARK COUNCIL AT FORT CALHOUN By Mrs. Laura B. Pound Looking backward for thirteen years, it is difficult for me to realize that at the beginning of my fourth term as state regent, in 1902, there were as yet only two chapters of the Daughters of the American Revolution in Nebraska. From 1894 to 1902 there had been three other state regents besides myself; and it was surely through no lack of diligence or patriotism that the organization grew so slowly. Mrs. S. C. Langworthy had been appointed organizing regent at Seward in 1896 ; Mrs. J. A, Cline at Minden, and Mrs. Sarah G. Bates at Long Pine in 1897 ; and Miss Anna Day at Beatrice in 1899. The total membership in the state probably did not exceed two hundred and fifty, and these, with the exception of the regents already named, belonged to the Deborah Avery and the Omaha chapters. In 1899, Mrs. Eliza Towle reported to the president general and the national board of management that the Omaha chapter had decided to place a monument at Fort Calhoun — undoubt- edly at the suggestion of Mrs. Harriet S. MacMurphy, who was much interested in the early history of that place. As the hundredth anniversary of the acquisition of the Louis- iana territory approached, and interest began to center around the expedition of Lewis and Clark, it was found that the only point touched in Nebraska by these explorers which could be positively identified was old Council Bluff, near Fort Calhoun ; and here the Omaha chapter had decided to erect a monument. At a meeting of the Omalia chapter in 1901, the state regent directs the attention of the members to this fact, and it was voted to enlarge the scope of the undertaking, to make the mark- ing of the site a state affair, and to ask the cooperation of the Sons of the American Revolution and of the State Historical Society. This action was ratified at the first conference of the Daughtere of the American Revolution held in Nebraska, the meeting having been called especially for that purpose, in Octo- 187 188 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES ber, 1902. A committee in conjunction with the Sons of the American Revolution asked the state legislature of 1903 for a sum of five thousand dollars to buy the site of Fort Atkinson and to erect a suitable monument, under the auspices of the Sons and the Daughters of the American Revolution, the monument to be erected according to plans and specifications furnished by the two societies. Disappointed by the failure of the legislature to make the de- sired appropriation but in no way discouraged, the Daughters of the American Revolution at the second state conference, held in October, 1903, voted to observe the anniversary of the first official council held by Lewis and Clark with the Indians in the Louisiana territory, and to commemorate the event by placing a Nebraska boulder upon the site. As chairman of the commit- tee, it fell to my lot to raise the money and to find the boulder; and it is with pleasure that I record the ease with which the first part of my duty was accomplished. The Deborah Avery chapter gave seventy-five dollars, the Omaha chapter one hun- dred, and the two new chapters organized in 1902, Quivira of Fairbury and Lewis-Clark of Fremont, raised the sum to two hundred, each promising more if it was needed. To find a Nebraska boulder was more difficult ; and it was still more difficult to find a firm in Nebraska willing to undertake to raise it from its native bed and to carve upon it the insignia of the D. A. R., with a suitable inscription. Finally a boulder of Sioux Falls granite was found in the Marsden farm, north of Lincoln, and it was given to the society by the owner, who re- marked that he was "glad to be rid of it." Its dimensions were 7i/2x8i/^x3i/2 feet. Its weight was between seven and eight tons. The firm of Kimball Brothers of Lincoln took the contract for its removal and inscription. Through the assistance of Mr. A. E. Sheldon of the State Historical Society, the Burlington and Missouri railroad generously transported it to Fort Calhoun, where its placing was looked after by Mr. J. H. Daniels of the Sons of the American Revolution. As the project had drifted away from the original intention, and had become a memorial to commemorate an event rather than to mark a spot, the boulder was placed on the public school grounds at Fort Calhoun. At last, almost five years from the time of the broaching of the project, the wish of the society was accomplished. LEWIS AND CLARK COUNCIL 189 The following condenses an account of the unveiling of the boulder, and the program, from the report of IVIiss Anna Tribell Adams of the Omaha chapter for the American MontJily of Jan- uary, 1905: ' ' On August 3, 1904, the village of Fort Calhoun, fifteen miles above Omaha on the Missouri river, was the scene of the un- veiling of a boulder commemorating the first peace council be- tween the United States government and the chiefs of the Otoe and Missouri Indian tribes. The town as well as the school grounds were brave with bunting and fla^. Everyone wore with a small flag the souvenir button on which was a picture of the boulder with a suitable inscription. As a matter of history it is a pleasure to record that the button was designed by Mra. Elsie De Cou Troup of the Omaha chapter. One worn by one of the speakers is in the collection of the Deborah Avery chap- ter in the rooms of the State Historical Society at Lincoln. "Among those present were Brigadier General Theodore Wint, representing the United States government, Governor J. H. Mickey, Adjutant General and Mrs. J. H. Culver, Mr. J. A. Bar- rett and Mr. A. E. Sheldon of the State Historical Society, Sen- ator J. H. Millard, ex-Governor J. E. Boyd, and others. * * The Thirtieth Infantry band from Fort Calhoun opened the program. Then came a brief reproduction, in pageant-manner, by the Knights of Ak-Sar-Ben of Omaha, of the Council of 1804, enacting the Lewis and Clark treaty. Mr. Edward Rosewater of the Omaha Bee extended the welcome of the day, and brought to the attention of the audience the presence of Mr. Antoine Cabney, the first white child bom in Nebraska, whose birthplace, in 1827, was near the site of Fort Calhoun. The state regent, Mrs. Abraham AUee, introduced Governor Mickey, who spoke briefly. He was followed by J. A. Barrett of the State His- torical Society, who gave an account of the Lewis and Clark Council. Honorable W. F. Gurley of Omaha then delivered the address of the day. At the conclusion of the formal program the boulder was unveiled. In the presentation speech by Mrs. S. B. Pound of Lincoln, the boulder was committed formally, in the name of the Sons and the Daughters of the American Rev- olution and of the State Historical Society, to the care of the citizens of Fort Calhoun." EAELY HISTORY OF LINCOLN COUNTY By Major Lester Walker (Late captain Fifth U. S. Cavalry and brevet major U. S. Army) It is supposed that the first white men who visited Lincoln county were the Mallet brothers, who passed this way to Santa Fe in 1739, Pierre and Au^ste Chouteau were sent out from St. Louis to explore the northwestern country in 1762. In 1780 another expedition was sent to explore the country between the Alissouri river and the Rocky Mountains. After the expedition of Lewis and Clark, which followed up the Missouri river, the first government expedition was made in 1819, under Major Stephen H. Long, who traveled up the north side of the Platte and crossed just above the forks of the two rivers, then going up the valley between the two streams to the site of the present to^\'n of North Platte. Titian Peale, the naturalist of Philadelphia, was with this ex- pedition and the Peale family living at North Platte, are rela- tives of his. In 1835, Col. Henry Dodge visited this section of the country in the government employ to treat x^ith the Arikara Indians. In 1843. Col. John C. Fremont, making his expedition up the Platte, celebrated the Fourth of July of that year, in what is now Lincoln county. During the year 1844 travel up the Platte river became quite heavy and the first building in the county was erected by a Frenchman (name unknown) neai* the present residence of Mrs. Burke at Fort McPherson, and was used as a trading ranch, but was abandoned in 1848. In 1852, a man by the name of Brady settled on the south side of the island now kno\\Ti as Brady Island. Brady is sup- posed to have been killed some time during the following year by the Indians. In 1858, the first permanent settlement in the county was made at Cottonwood Springs and the first building was erected in the fall of the year by Boyer & Roubidoux. I. P. Boyer had charge of this ranch. In the same year another trading ranch 190 EARLY HISTORY OF LINCOLN COUNTY 191 was built at 'Fallon's Bluffs on the south side of the river. In 1859 Dick Darling erected the second building at Cottonwood Springs. This building was purchased by Charles McDonald for a store, and he stocked it with general merchandise. In 1860, Mr. McDonald brought his wife from Omaha, she being the first white woman to settle in Lincoln county. Mrs. McDonald lived here about three years before another white woman settled at Cottonwood Springs. Mr. McDonald is now living at North Platte, engaged in the banking business. Mrs. McDonald died in December, 1898, and is buried at North Platte. In the spring of 1860, J. A. Morrow built a ranch about twelve miles west fi-om Cottonwood, to accommodate the great rush to California. To give some idea of the extent of the freight and emigrant business along this route, it was no un- common thing to count from seven hundred to one thousand wagons passing in one day. During the year 1861, the Creighton telegraph line was com- pleted through the county. In June, 1861, the first white chUd was bom. His name is "W. H. McDonald, son of Chas. Mc- Donald, now of North Platte, Nebraska. In the spring of 1860, W. M. Hinman removed from Fort Laramie to Cottonwood Springs, and opened up a farm, trading with the emigrants and Indians. In November, 1863, Fort Mc- Pherson was established by the government at this settlement of Cottonwood Springs. This military post was first command- ed by Major George M. O'Brien. Fort McPherson was established none too soon, for it was in the following year, 1864, that the war with the Sioux and Chey- enne Indians commenced. This war continued for over five years and many emigrants and soldiers were killed. What is now known as Lincoln county, was first organized as a county under the territorial government of Nebraska in 1860. Cottonwood Springs M^as made the county-seat. The following officers were elected : County commissioners — I. P. Boyer, J. C. Oilman and J. A. Morrow ; judge — Charles McDonald ; treasurer — "W. M. Hinman. Instead of calling the county Lincoln, it was named * * Shorter. ' ' Nothing, however, was done under this organization. Judge McDonald qualified and the only business was the marriage ceremony. On September 3, 1866, a meeting was held and arrangementa 192 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES made to reorganize Shorter county under the name of Lincoln county. Under the reorganization, the following officers were elected: J. C. Gilman, W. M, Hinman, and J. A. Morrow were elected county commissioners; S. D. Fitchie, county judge; Wilton Baker, sheriff; and Charles McDonald, clerk. The coun- ty seat was at Cottonwood Springs. W. M. Hinman built a sawmill near Cottonwood Springs and did a large business. The Union Pacific rairoad was then being constructed through this county and the caiions south of the Platte abounded with cedar timber, furnishing an abundance of material. During November, 1866, the Union Pacific railroad was com- pleted to North Platte and a town was laid out by the railroad company. The plat of the town was filed with the clerk of the county on January 31, 1867; a military post was established, and a garrison of soldiei's was stationed here. In 1867 the Union Pacific railroad began the erection of shops and roundhouse, North Platte having been designated as a divi- sion station. During the year 1867, a freight train was wrecked by the Indians. Several of the trainmen were killed and the train plundered and burned. In September, 1867, the Indian chiefs were all called to assemble at North Platte, where they were met by the commissioners appointed by the government to treat with them. These commissioners were Greneral Shennan, General Harney, and John P. Sanbonie, and a treaty of peace was entered into. During the stay of these commissioners, they were w^ell entertained by the citizens of North Platte. The county-seat was moved from Cottonwood Springs to North Platte at an election held October 8, 1867. A total of twenty- one votes were cast. The officers elected were B. I. Hinman, representative; W. M. Hinman, county judge; Charles McDon- ald, clerk; 0. 0. Austin, sheriff; Hugh Morgan, treasurer, and A. J. Miller, county commissioner. There was no courthouse, and the records were kept at the home of W. M. Hinman, who had moved from his farm to North Platte. The first county warrant was issued in 1867. The first term of district court was held at North Platte in 1867, Judge Gantt then being the circuit judge for the entire state. July 1, 1867, the first levy on the Union Pacific railroad in Lincoln county was made on an assessed valuation of $49,000.00. During this year, there was an Indian scare and settlers EARLY HISTORY OF LINCOLN COUNTY 193 throughout the county thronged to the military parks at Mc- Pherson and North Platte, taking refuge in the railroad round- house at the latter place. The first money collected from fines was that paid into the county treasury on February 1, 1868, by R. C. Daugherty, a justice of the peace, who fined a man $21.50 for stealing an overcoat. The first school in the county was taught at North Platte during the summer of 1868. Theodore Clark was the first teacher. The next term of school began November 30, 1868, and was taught by Mary Hubbard, now Mrs. P. J. Gilman. The first Sunday school in the county was at North Platte, and was founded by Mrs. Keith, Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Cogswell, and Mrs, Kramph. There were only three children in attendance. During the year 1868, troubles with the Indians were on the increase. On one occasion, "Dutch" Frank, running an engine and coming round a curve with his train, saw a large body of Indians on each side of the road, while a number were crowded on the track. Knowing it would be certain death to stop, he increased the speed of his train and went through them, killing quite a number. In May, 1869, the Fifth U. S. Cavalry arrived at Fort McPher- son under General Carr. Eight companies were left here and four companies went to Sidney and Cheyenne. The government was surveying this county at that time and the troops were used to protect the surveyors. Large bands of Indians had left the reservation and were killing settlers and stealing horses. Dur- ing the summer of 1869 the order from General Auger, com- manding the department, was to clear the country of Indians between the Union Pacific and the Kansas Pacific. I was an officer of the Fifth U. S. Cavalry and was in command of the post at North Platte in 1869 and 1870, and was in all the Indian campaigns until I resigned in 1878. The first bank in North Platte was started in 1875 by Walker Brothers and was later sold to Charles McDonald. GRAY EAGLE, PAWNEE CHIEF By Millard S. Binney It is uot often that one sees a real Indian chief on the streets of FuUerton, but such happened in June, 1913, when the city was visited by David Gillingham, as he is known in the English tongue, or Gray Eagle, as his people call him. chief of the Pawnees. Gray Eagle is the son of White Eagle, whom, the early inhab- itants of Nance county will remember as chief of the Pawnees at the time the county was o^^•ned by that tribe. Gray Eagle was born about three miles this side of G^noa, in 1861. He spent his boyhood in the county and when white men began to build at the place that is now Genoa, he attended school there. When he was fourteen years of age he accom- panied his tribe to its new home at Pawnee City, Oklahoma, where he has since resided. The trip overland was made mostly on lioi*seback, and the memories of it are very interesting as in- terpi-eted to us by Chief Gray Eagle, and John Williamson, of Genoa., one of the few white men to make this long journey with the red men. Gray Eagle made one trip back here in 1879, vis- iting the s^iot that is now Fullerton — then only a few rude shacks. Uppermost in Gray Eagle's mind had always been the desire to return aaid see what changes civilization had brought. In 1913 he was sent to St. Louis as a delegate to the Baptist con- vention, after which he decided to visit the old scenes. From St. Louis he went to Chiciigo and from that city he came to Genoa. "I have always wanted to see if I could locate the exact spot of my birth." said Gray Eagle, in perfect English, as he t^ilked to us on this last visit, ' ' and I have been successful in my under- taking. I found it last week, three miles this side of Genoa. I was born in a littK\ round nnul-house, and although the house is long since gone. I discovered the circular mound that had been its foundation. I stood upon the veiy spot where I was 194 • GRAY EAGLE, PAWNEE CHIEF 195 born, and as I looked out over the slopes and valleys that had once been ours; at the corn and wheat growing upon the ground that had once been our hunting grounds ; at the quietly flowing streams that we had used so often for watering places in the days so long gone by; my heart was veiy sad. Yet I've found that spot and am satisfied. I can now go back to the South and feel that my greatest desire has been granted." When asked if the Indians of today followed many of the cus- toms of their ancestors, he answered that they did not. Oc- casionally the older Indians, in memory of the days of their supremacy, dressed themselves to correspond and acted as in other days, but the younger generation knows nothing of those things and is as the white man. In Oklahoma they go to school, later engage in farming or enter business. ''Civilization has done much for them," said Gray Eagle. "They are hard work- ers and have ambitions to accomplish great things and be better citizens. Only we old Indians, who remember the strenuous times of the early days, have the wild blood in our veins. The younger ones have never even seen a buffalo. ' ' Then he told of his early life in the county and related inter- esting stories of the past — Gray Eagle, the Indian chief, and John Williamson, the pioneer, talking together, at times, in a tongue that to us was strange, but to them an echo of a very real past. The Loup he called Potato Water, because of the many wild potatoes that formerly grew upon its banks. Horse creek he remembered as Skeleton Water, the Pawnees one time having fought a band of Sioux on its banks. They were victorious but lost many warriors. Their own dead they buried, leaving the bodies of their enemies to decay in the sun. Soon the banks of the creek were strewn with skeletons and ever after the creek was known to the Indians as Skeleton Water. The Cedar was known as Willow creek. Council creek as the Skidi, and the Beaver as the Sandburr. LOVERS' LEAP By Mrs. A. P. Jarvis I pause before I reach the verge And look, with chilling blood, below; Some dread attraction seems to urge Me nearer to the brink to go. The hunting red men used to force The buffalo o 'er this frightful steep ; They could not check their frantic course ; By following herds pressed down they leap, Then lie a bleeding, mangled mass Beside the little stream below. Their red blood stained the waving grass, The brook carnation used to flow. Yet a far more pathetic tale The Pawnees told the pioneer Of dusky maid and stripling pale Who found in death a refuge here. The youth had been a captive long. Yet failed to friendly favor find ; He oft was bound with cruel thong. Yet Noma to the lad was kind. She was the chieftain's only child, As gentle as the cooing dove. Pure was this daughter of the wild; The pale-face lad had won her love. Her father, angered at her choice. Had bid 'n her wed a chieftain brave ; She answered with a trembling voice, " I 'd rather lie within my grave. ' ' The day before the appointed eve When Wactah was to claim his bride. The maid was seen the camp to leave — The pale-face youth was by her side. 196 LOVER'S LEAP 197 She led him to this dangerous place That on the streamlet's glee doth frown; The sunlight, gleaming on her face, Her wild, dark beauty seemed to crown. "Dear youth," exclaimed the dusky maid, ' ' I 've brought thee here thy faith to prove : If thou of death art not afraid, "We'll sacrifice our lives to love." Hand linked in hand they looked below, Then, headlong, plunged adown the steep. The Pawnees from that hour of woe Have named the place The Lovers' Leap. EARLY INDIAN HISTORY By Mrs. Sarah Clapp lu 1843 ^Ir. and ^Irs. Lester "W. Piatt were fii*st ensraged in missionary work among the Pawnees, and in 1857 the govern- ment set aside a tract of land thirty miles by fifteen miles, in the rich prairie soil of Nance county, for their use; and when the Indian school was established at Greuoa, Mi-s. Piatt was made mati-on or superintendent. My mother taught in this school during the yeare 1866-67. She found the work interesting, learned much of the customs and legends of the Pawnees and grew very fond of that noble woman, ]\Ii*s. Piatt, who was able to tell thrilling stories of her experiences during her mission work among the members of that tribe. At the time my mother t