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COLLECTION OF
NEBRASKA PIONEER
REMINISCENCES
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
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
-I '^- men and women — the advance g-uard of our progress —
■' who, carrying the torch of civilization, had a vision of
the possibilities which now have become realities.
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
^*^*''-" . . 11 -^^^34
•N.^ "In her horizons, limitless and vast "^ "
rvK 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
S^".^ recall, and the real story of the beginning of our great
^ commonwealth must be told now.
V The memories of those pioneers, of their deeds of self-
N^ sacrifice and devotion, of their ideals which are our in-
P heritance, will inculcate patriotism in the children of the
future; for they should realize the courage that subdued
the wilderness. And "lest 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 CORRELL PeRBY
(Mrs. Warren Perry)
CONTENTS
Some First Things in the History op 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 Nebrask^v Teacher 30
By Mrs. Isabel Eoscoe
Experiences op a Pioneer Woman .... 32
By Mrs. Elise G. Everett
Recollections op 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 Aykes
Plum Creek (Lexington) 57
By William M. Bancroft, M. D.
Early Recollections 62
By C. Chabot
Recollections of the First Settler of Dawson County 64
By Mrs. Daniel Freeman '
Early Days in Dawson County 67
By Lucy B. Hewitt
Pioneer Justice 72
By B. F. Kriek
A Good Indian 74
By Mrs. CLiFroRD Weutakeb
4 CONTENTS
Fkom Missouri to Dawson County .... 75
By a. J. Pobteb
The Brickson Family 76
By Mrs. W. M. Stebbins
The Beginnings op Fremont 78
By Sadie Irene Mooke
A Grasshopper Story 82
By Margaret F. Kelly
Early Days in Fremont 84
By Mrs. Theron Nye
Pioneer Women of Omaha 90
By Mrs. Charles H. Fisette
A Pioneer Family 93
By Edith Erma Purviance
The Badger Family 97
The First "White Settler in Fillmore County . . 102
Pioneering in Fillmore County 107
By John H. MoCashland
Fillmore County in the Seventies .... 109
By William Spade
Early Days in Nebraska Ill
By J. A. Carpenter
Reminiscences op Gage County 112
By Albert L. Green
Ranching in Gage and Jefferson Counties . . 123
By Peter Jansen
Early Recollections of Gage County . . . 127
By Mrs. E. Johnson
Biography op Ford Lewis 129
By Mrs. (D. S.) H. Virginia Lewis Dalbey
A Buffalo Hunt 131
By W. H. Avery
A Grasshopper Raid 133
By Edna M. Boyle Allen
Early Days in Pawnee County 135
By Daniel B. Cropsey
Early Events in Jefferson County .... 137
By George Cross
Early Days of Fairbury and Jefferson County . 139
By George W. Hansen
The Earliest Romance of Jefferson County . . 147
By George W. Hansen
Experiences on the Frontier 152
By Frank Helvey
Looking Backward 155
By George E. Jenkins
CONTENTS 5
The Easter Storm op 1873 158
By Charles B. Letton
Beginntngs op Fairbuey 161
By Joseph B. McDowell
Early 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 by Mrs. C. F. Steele .... 168
Statement by George W. Hansen .... 169
Early Days in Jepperpon County .... 175
By Mrs. M. H. Weeks
Location op the Capit.Uj at Lincoln .... 176
By John H. Ames
An Incident in the History op Lincoln . . . 182
By Ortha C. Bell
Lincoln in the E.vrly 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 Majob Lester Walker
Grey Eagle, Pawnee Chief 194
By Millard S. Binney
Lover's Le.\p (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 Randall
Stirring Events along the Little Blue . . . 214
By Clarendon E. Adams
My Last Buffalo Hunt 219
By J. Sterling Morton
6 CONTENTS
How THE Pounder of Akbob Day created the most
FAMOUS Western Estate 235
By Paul Mokton
Early Reminiscences of Nebraska City — Social As-
pects 240
By Ellen Kinney Ware
Some Personal Incidents 242
By W. a. McAllister
A Buffalo Hunt 244
By Minnie Freeman Penny
Pioneer Life 246
By Mrs. James G. Eeeder
Early Days in Polk County 248
By Calmab McCune
Personal Reminiscences 252
By Mrs. Thyrza Keavis Roy
Two Seward County Celebrations .... 254
By Mrs. S. C. Langworthy
Seward County Reminiscences 255
Compiled by Margaret Holmes Chapter D. A. E.
Pioneering 263
By Grant Lee Shumway
Early Days in Stanton County 266
By Andrew J. BoTTORPr and Sven Johanson
Fred E. Roper, Pioneer 268
By Ernest E. Correll
The Lure of the Prairies 272
By Lucy L. Correll
Suffrage in Nebraska 275
Statement by Mrs. Gertrude M. McDoivcU . . 275
Statement by Lucy L. Correll . ... 277
An Indian Raid 279
By Ernest E. Correll
Reminiscences 281
By Mrs. E. A. Russell
Reminiscences op Fort Calhoun 284
By W. H. Allen
Reminiscences of Washington County . . . 286
By Mrs. Emily Bottorff Allen
Reminiscences of Pioneer Life at Fort Calhoun . 288
By Mrs. N. J. Frazier Brooks
Reminiscences of De Soto 289
By Oliver Bouvier
Reminiscences 290
By Thomas M. Carter
Fort Calhoun in the Late Fifties .... 293
By Mrs. E. H. Clark
CONTENTS
Some Items from Washington County
By Mrs. Mat Allen Lazure
County-seat of Washington County .
By Frank McNeelt
The Story of the Town op Fontenelle
By Mrs. Eda Mead
Thomas Wilkinson and Family .
NiKUMI
By Mrs. Harriett S. MacMurphy
The Heroine op the Jules Slade Tragedy
By Mrs. Harriett S. MacMurphy
The last romantic Buffalo Hunt on the
Nebraska
By John Lee Webster
Outline History op the Nebraska Society, D. A. R.
By Mrs. Chakles H. Adll
Plains op
295
299
305
307
322
326
333
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 P. Newman 22
Dedication op Monument commemorating the Oregon
Trail at Kearney, Nebraska 27
Mrs. Andrew K. Gault 50
Monument marking the Old Trails, Fremont, Ne-
braska 78
Mrs. Charlotte F. Palmer 90
Mrs. Prances Avery Haggard 127
Oregon Trail Monument ne.vr Pairbury, Nebraska . 139
Mrs. Elizabeth C. Langworthy 155
Mrs. Charles B. Letton 168
Boulder at Fort Calhoun, commemorating the Coun-
cil OP Lewis and Clark with the Otoe and Missouri
Indians 187
Mrs. Oreal S. Ward 203
Oregon Trail Monument on Kansas-Nebraska State
Line 240
Mrs. Charles Olwer Norton 252
Oregon Trail Monument near Hebron, Nebraska . 268
Mrs. Warren Perry 305
Mrs. Charles H. Aull 333
Monument marking the initlal point of the Cali-
fornia Trail, Riverside Park, Omaha . . . 337
California Trail Monument, Bemis P^vrk, 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 Fouts, 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 still living and now
has his home in Hastings, a hale, hearty man of seventy-five years
and respected by all. Marion J. Fouts, 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
where the trail leaves the Little Blue to the militaiy 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 ti-ail, 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 bui-ied 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 entiy, 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, tiled 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 Fouts, 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 and "Lila" or Eliza Warwick,
the ceremony being performed by the bride's father, Rev. J. W.
Warwdck. Prior to this, however, on October 18, 1871, Bben
Wright and Susan Gates, a young couple who had settled in the
county, were taken by Mr. Kress in his two-horse 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 Stutzman, who was killed by "William John
McBlroy, 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. MJr. 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 firet 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 floor 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 pi-obably 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, Eussell 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
constniction, 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 work 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 Powlie 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 Daily 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 running mixed trains as far west as School
Creek, now Sutton. "We rode to that point, then started to walk
to Juniata, arriving at Harvard in the evening. Harvard 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 bachelors.
"We arranged with Mr. 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 was
where they kept the horse feed.
The next morning we paid our lodging and resumed the jour-
ney west. Twelve miles from Harvard 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
moved 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
Oregon Trail Mon-
ument ON Nebraska-
Wyoming State Line
Erected by the Sons and
Daughters of the Ameri-
can Revolution 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 Revo-
lution at a cost of $100
i'M'LalL<,'4f'-^ '''
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 mUe 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 vnnd 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-
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 Pish 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 Mre. 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-
EAELY 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, black 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 luitil 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.
FRONTIER TOWNS
By Francis M. Broome
"With the first rush of settlers 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
Mrs. Angie P. Newman
Seconil Vice-President General from Nebraska, National Society, Daughters
of the American Revolution. 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 town. 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-for-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 ancestry 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 country 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
person for meals and lodging, but compelled the ones with money
to pay for them. Then there was Rushville, the supply station
for vast stores of goods for the Indian agency and reservation
near by; Hay Springs, the terminal point for settlers coming
into the then unsettled south country. 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 glory 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 country by an army post.
These affairs incident to the pioneer life of northwestern
Nebraska are now but reminiscences, supplanted by a civiliza-
tion inspired by all of the modern and higher ideals of life.
HISTORICAL SKETCH OP BOX BUTTE COUNTY
By Iba 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 was 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-Pargo express, and later
the United States mail. The big freighting outfits conveyed
mining machinery, 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 miners 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 offenders
were lynched, and the great, seething, hui'rying 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
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 ofScially 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.
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 Lake City, Utah. At Florence, Nebraska, on the Missouri
river a few miles above the 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 repairs, 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 Huntsman's
Eclw). 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 down his
fence and destroyed his garden and flowei-s, 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 Mr. Johnson contained no seasoned wood
suitable for an axle and so from 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
River 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 state 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 com, 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 'U 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 by 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
tui-ns 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
A PIONEEE 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 dollars 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. Edise 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 Pritt'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 smaU 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 finaUy
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
EXPERIENCES OF A PIONEER WOMAN 33
liberty, the horses unhooked, and with some difiBculty 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 suiSeiently to
catch a few winks 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. Josiah
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 Prank 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 Decatur, but we were not aware that they had already ar-
rived at Josiah 's. The wagons we had seen were those of B. 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 already 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 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
man, the other a much-bedeeked 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 informed 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 wok 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.
1171181
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 com 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. Prom
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.
RECOLLECTIONS 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 destroyed, 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
make 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 first coat of any kind he had had since his home was
invaded by the red men.
An explanation of the purpose 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 born at Rock Bluffs in 1860. We moved to
Weeping Water in 1862 when four or five dwellings and the little
old mill 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, maxiy 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 fim 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
taJie 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,
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 riunors of the fight.
Bearing flaming, flickering torches
Soon were wandei'ing 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 b^gan 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 Glenwood, 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 Indiana
42 NEBEASKA PIONEEE EEMINISCENCES
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 aud 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 born 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
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 in 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.
William 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 modem improvements and refined society.
REMINISCENCES OF CUSTER COUNTY
By Mbs. J. J. Douglas
In July, 1888, I amved 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
EEMINISCENCES 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-
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 way 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 was 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 dismis.sed school and
stood watching the pupils starting out in various directions for
their homes, my attention was called to a path that led down
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 cruelest 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 trust 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 firet 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
postoffiee. 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 comer 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 awaiened by the steaithy 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
ce-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 banding 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 with 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 throbhing 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 Atres
Prairie 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-ear
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 cars 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 aU
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
LIFE ON THE FRONTIER 55
boiler. The engineer and the fireman were killed. The engine
ran off the track, but the cara 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
was 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 eared
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 uutil 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 P. 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 restavirant, 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 ear, 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 desei"ves 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 demonstration. It then became necessary
to get the trade from the Republican VaUey, 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, EUeck 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 :
Mi-s. 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 fiU 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
storm 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 back 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 affair
built of pine boards. This we cut up and used for fuel and
slept on the dirt fioor. The storm was so terrific 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 Doe 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 was 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 and
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, amving 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 yeai-s 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 passengers stand-
ing. Everybody was eager to see the great prairie country.
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 wonders of the great Union Pacific
railroad and the country between Omaha and Ogden. I saw
him two years later in Dawson county, playing the violin at a
country 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 town," he replied,
"but I will go with you." On arriving at the comer of what
is now Main and Depot streets we entered a building which I
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 Freem.vn
I came from Canada to Leavenworth, Kansas. Mr. Freeman
was a freighter to Pike's Peak, hut was not always successful.
He spent $4,000 on one train and came hack with only a team
of oxen and a team of ponies. The next spring, 1862, I hought
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 buifalo 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 with 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 after 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 eam.e
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 tUe
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 eared 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. Bi-igham 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 Plum 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 comity 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 Porreston, lULuois, 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
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
EAKLY 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 mUe 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 haU
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 modern 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 very 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.
PIONEER JUSTICE
Bt B. F. Kriee
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,
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 boss."
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. MacCoU 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. MaeColl, 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. Mae-
Coll understand that he coiild 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. MaeColl 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. MaeColl could stand alone, and in a week he could
walk.
This incident was told to me in 1910 by the sister, Laura Mac-
Coll.
FROM MISSOURI TO DAWSON COUNTY IN 1872
By a. J. PORTEE
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 Fillmore county and bought the southwest
quarter of section eleven in Madison township, which place we
now own.
THE E.RICKSON 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
was abandoned. The old poles were of red cedar taken from
the eaiions 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 cations 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 canons; Conroy from Conroy's ranch, Jeffrie
from Jeffrie's ranch, Oilman from Oilman's ranch, and Hiles
from Hiles' ranch. An exception to the above is the Dan
Smith caiion 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 oificers 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 surroimded 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 Cafion 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 first 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 Elkhom
seven miles northeast of Fremont. The Marvin home was a
mile and a quarter west of Fremont and this house was the
rendezvous of the parties who laid out Fremont. Mr. Marvin
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. 6. 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 Mrs. 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 traders 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 was held in a building
Monument at Fremont, NEBRA^;KA, marking the Overland
Emigrant Trails or California Ro.u)
Erected by Lewis-Clark Chapter, Daughters of the American Revolution
THE BEGINNINGS OF FEEMONT 79
owned by the Congregational chureli 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 Mrs. Reynolds, reached the few dwellings
then comprising Fremont, after an eighteen or nineteen days
trip in mo^^ng wagons from Racine, Wisconsin. They first
stopped at the house of Robert Kittle, comer 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.
Syrup 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 eveiyone
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 fires 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 P. 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 "hoppers" were working
and they could hear their mandibles working on the wheat.
When they flew it sounded like a train of ears in motion.
Horses would not face them unless compelled. One year I had
an eighty acre fleld of com 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 California came in 1876. On the way to the farm a
thunder storm came up and we stopped at a friend's until it
was over. My brother said, "I would not go through the ex-
A GRASSHOPPER STORY 83
perienee 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 feU 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 V " 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
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 satisfactoi-y, 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 scnibbing 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 fry 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
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
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 flour 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
was a necessity. Biscuits were made of flour, using a little corn
meal for shortening and saleratus for raising. Much of the
corn 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 winter 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
states and made their claims along the old military and Cali-
fornia trail were independent. Many of the emigrants became
discouraged and turned their faees 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
EAELY 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 wiU be to
the coming generation like forgotten dreams.
PIONEER WOMEN OF OMAHA
By Mrs. Chaeles H. Pisette
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 intervals 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 Ai
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, who 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. Mrs. Cuming was very popular in the little gatherings
which wex-e 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 away 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 aftei-wards 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
firsl; 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. Thomaa
0 '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 fii-st 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. Geo. 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. Washin^on 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
both 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 children.
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 PIONEEE 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 bam 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 PIONEER FAMILY 95
Mrs. Wiley bought a parlor set of walnut furniture, upholstered
in green.
General 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, with 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. Wiley 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 emigi-ant 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 postofSce in the dugout. He
received his commission from Postmaster General Creswell.
The postofBce 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 reservations.
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 com 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
satisfactoiy 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
was 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 construction. 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 BADGER 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 corn 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 settlers. 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, Poncas, 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 oif 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 Mi*s. 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 SETTLEE 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 January 9, 1869, was the flrst white
FIRST SETTLER IN FILLMORE COUNTY 103
child bom 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 befoi-e 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,
104 NEBEASKA PIONEER EEMINISCENCES
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
' ' In the year 1868, the first year that we had any crops plant-
ed, it almost forgot to rain at all. The barley 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 rainy 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.
Realizing 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
Indiajis, 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 sei-vice 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 feU over the bluff into the river and it feU 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 NEBRASKA 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 all 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. MeCashland 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. MeCashland 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. McCasUand 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 Bast
a few years ago I decided that I would not trade my quarter
section in Fillmore county for several times that much eastern
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 is 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 Jvme, 1877, I took a foolish notion to make a fortune and
109
110 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
in company with 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 aU 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 was plentiful. Wild turkeys and prairie
chickens could be had by going a short distance 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
Brownville, 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 progre^ that it has made in these few years.
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 visdted 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 aa
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 squaw-s 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 11.5
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 Gage 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 every 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 Pilley'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 halfbreed named Jim Whitewater. Jim was just
returning from a buffalo hunt and had secured a supply of
whiskey from a man named Wehn, at Pairbury. 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
REMINISCENCES 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 Jeflferson county aud 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 writer 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 neariy 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 moming_
for Pawnee City, where prison accommodations could be had.
Shortly after leaving Fairbury the interpreter told the Indians
that evidently the Great Spirit had heard their appeal, to which
they all vociferously assented. Jim was kept at Pawnee City
until his trial, which took place at Fairbury before Judge 0. 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 interpreters.
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 impri^ned 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 vn-iter 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 informed 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 Missourias as being
very 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 care 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
aa 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-
lowera met. Old Eagle was 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
srtumbling-block 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 Gage
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 po^bly 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
REMINISCENCES 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 preser^nng 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 ae-
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 vdthin 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 NEBEASKA 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
Eoper'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 $1,000.
It was regarded as a public improvement of very great impor-
tance to the town.
RANCHING IN GAGE AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES
By Peter Jansen
I came to Beatrice, Nebraska, in 1874, after having been
through Minnesota, 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 j\ist 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 store 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 house
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
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 would 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 waa known as "Star" chewing tobacco. Next
morning I stai-ted 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 aU 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
first 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 us home, and you may believe the barking of the shep-
herd dogs sounded very musical to me as we neared the barn.
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 srtick 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 success, 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. Prances Avery Haggard
Third State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American
Revolution. 1898
EARLY RECOLLECTIONS OP 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 my 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>
ofSce 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 place. 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 oft«n the
Indians would pass going from the Omaha reservation to the
Otoe reservation at Barnston; 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 Seott 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 HiU," which is sho^vn on old time maps
of the state.
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128 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
One of the curiosities of the early times was a cow with a
wooden 1^, running with a herd of cattle. The hind leg waa
off at the knee joint. She was furnishing milk for the family
of her owner, a Mr. Scott living on Mud creek, near the town
of Filley.
Mr. Scott often told of pounding their com to pulverize it.
The nearest mill 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 aud secured medicine, the doctor not being able to go.
The next day Dr. Bc^gs, 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 so 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, modem houses, and well
equipped educational institutions.
BIOGRAPHY OF FORD LEWIS
By (Mrs. D. S.) H. Virginia Lewis Dalbet
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 esta,te, 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 ownere 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,
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 from 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 farmers to keep their land,
which is now the 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 adAdce now "rise up and call him
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. Lewis married Miss Elizabeth Davis of Jerseyville, Illi-
nois, in 1864. She was the first girl baby bom in that town,
her parents being among the earliest pioneers there from New
Jersey; so her childhood memories of bears, 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. Aveey
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 Whiteroek, Kansas, we were joined by another
party of four men with "Old Martin Fisher," an early White-
rock settler, aa oiBcial 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 One 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 "buUet" 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 theuL
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 ajid suddenly drew his revolver
and shot Fisher 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 grass-
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 com, tomatoes, cab-
bage, etc., and that year it was especially fine.
One day he came rushing home from his office saying, "The
grasshoppers 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 sunbonnet of which I was very
proud, and went out to watch my parents gather the garden
truck 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
grasshoppers 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
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 coueh
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 receiving 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.
EABLY 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 shade 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 waa upland and considered by the older inbabitants 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 buffalo
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 consdsted of bread and butter and pumpkin, with pump-
kin pie for Sunday dinner. The bam we usually carried with
us. It consisted 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 bam across the ravine, I well remember,
and in the morning I found a river between the bam an,d 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 mnning down young deer and rab-
bits and killing rattlesnakes.
We often met the red man with 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 Pa\vnee 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. Ill 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 collar, 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 axid if the road was not built
there would be neither bonds nor taxes. It required a two-
thirds vote to cari-y 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 Fairbui-y resorted to
all known 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 secretlj^ circulated in a precinct bitterly opposed to the
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.
EARLY DAYS OP 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 SaJidy 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 liak 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
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. Parrell, county judge. In November, 1868, Ives Marks was
elected county treasurer. If a person was unable to pay his en-
tire tax, 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 Mar
son built the first house upon the tosvnsite 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 town 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 aud 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 whei'e 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 Fairbury. This was in
FAIRBURY AND JEFFERSON COUNTIES 141
the siunmer 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
Greorge Cross and my brother, Harry Hansen, running off the
Pairhury 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 ofSce 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-
terest, 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. McCaifery, whose principal business was selling a vile brand
of whiskey labeled Hostetter's Bitters, and the other was 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 & Champ lin's Fanners' 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
ix)und trip. Judge Mattingly was running a sawmill near the
river, cutting the native cottonwoods 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 my 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 detennined my location. I found so much
vacant government land that it was difficult to malie 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 wdth 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
eountrj'.
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, M'ith 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 bj^ 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 resei^ved 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 was 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 as
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 that 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 Thomas 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 pleasiires 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
Sloeumb high license law, was the star actor in the club. A
local critic commenting on our first play said : ' ' Mr. Slocumb
as a confirmed di-unkard 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 dooi*s
Of congress halls 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 bom
"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 ox 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 a^ain 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 country
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 territory, near the present northern line of Jefferson
county.
Theirs were pioneer surroundings. The only residents were
ranchers 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 Prank
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 Baker
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 soimdly, 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 ranchei-s 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 Marysville.
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
Marysville, 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 party 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 JefEerson
county was consummated.
EXPERIENCES ON THE FRONTIER
By Prank Helvey
I was born 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, corn, 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 tilling 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
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
Port Lai-amie. 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 dovm 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 us 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 have shot at hundreds of Indians. I cannot say positively
that I ever killed one, although 1 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, went 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 own use.
I homesteaded, June 13, 1866, on the Little Blue, five miles
northwest of Pairbury, 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 ofiScers. 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. Elizabeth C. Langworthy
Seventh State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the A
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,
Pill 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 hoi-ses 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
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. Please 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 vdld 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 drug store, a hardware store, lumber yard, blacksmith
shop, a schoolhouse, church, and a few small buildings scattered
around the square. 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 aeoms grow,"
and it has been my privilege and great pleasure to have seen
Fairbury ' ' climb the ladder round by round ' ' 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 harrowed the ground and sowed their oats and spring wheat
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 li^^ng 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
alid on the roof, and covering 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. Settlers 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
writer was then living alone m a dugout seven miles north of
Fairbury in what is now the rich and 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 from the
northwest. The next morning I had been awake for some time
waiting 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 almost 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
crawUng 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 carrying much of the cover-
ing away, had fiJled the stable with snow until some of them
were almost and others wholly buried, except where the remains
of the roof protected them.
Two animals died while I was trying 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 formed 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 was 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, dreamed 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 storm. 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
years 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, lUinois, 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 northeast of the present site of Endieott, 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
hot«l, 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 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
after Fairbury, Illinois, with the sanction of the county commit-
sioners. We shipped the machinery for a sawmill to "Waterville,
Kansas, and hauled it to Fairbury 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 squai-e, which was replaced a
few years 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 Waterloo, 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 telling 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 eottonwood 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.
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 Bates 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 years 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 were quite abundant during the
first years, and buffalo meat could often be bought, being
shipped from the western part of the stat€. 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 reservation 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
reservation to see just how the Indians lived. We had two cov-
ered wagons and one provision wagon. We cooked our food by
EAELY 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 doore 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 donning
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 Mks. 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 Fairbury. Thinking this might be a good place for
one with 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 hired 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 forward 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 inishing 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 M^elcome so kindly, a friendship was started that night, a
friendship that grew and strengthened with the years and lasted
as long as E. D. Briekley, 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 roof. Even so I could only bring the
grand total up to thirty.
That Slimmer proved a very 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 problem. At last I thought of our well, stiU without a
pump. I would put the eatables in a washboiler, put the cover
on, tie a rope through 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 wdth 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 OF GEORGE WINSLOW FOUND THEIR
FATHER'S GRAVE
By Mks. C. F. Steele and George W. Hansen
Statement by Mrs.
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 east 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 CaUfomia 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 wrote 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
Alls ( II M
Eighth State Regent \eljnskj
Revolution 1007 19(IS
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 ta.lk 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 graves unmarked or
marked with wooden slabs, have passed into oblivion.
In June, 1912, it was my pleasure to meet George Winslow 's
sons, George 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 presei-ved, 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 firet company of emigrants
in the Majrflower, 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, bom 1669, established
the business of cloth dressing at Freetown, Massachusetts. His
son James Winslow, bom 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, bom 1786, took up
his abode in the Catskill mountains with 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 bom May 15, 1846. His second son Henry 0.,
was bora 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.
172 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
They left Cincinnati April 23rd, on the steamer GrifSn 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 sermon. 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
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 own 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 29tli,
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 George 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, paiur
lessly and without a struggle, he sank away as though going to
sleep. He was taken to the center of the corral, where funeral
174 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
services were performed, 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 down 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. All
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.
EAELY DAYS IN JEFFERSON COUNTY
By Mrs. M. H. Weeks
When I look upon the little city of Fairbury 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 sta.te, we came to our future home.
I wanted to "go on" somewhere else, for eveiything 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 sewing 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 glass, 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 oif into the water. On the re-
turn trip both of our horses would be laden with bags of pro-
visions.
In 1867 my husband went 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 con-al 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 yeai-s bring?
175
LOCATION OP 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 commissioners for the purpose of locating the seat of
government and public buildings of the state of Nebi-aska, 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 accea-
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 surveyed, 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 ofiices 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 ha\ang
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 pui^pose. Notice was directed to be issued im-
mediately after the sale of lots, asking from architects plans and
specifications 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 imknown 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 tovm 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 thousand 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 also 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 provided 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 EEMINISCENCES
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 amount 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 commissaoners issued
their notice to architects, inviting, for a period of thirty days,
plans 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 after 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 completion.
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 commissioners 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 session 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 capitol.
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
aJid 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-
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. 0. C.) MiN>riE DeEtte Polley Bell
In the spring of 1874 my father, Hiram PoUey, 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, which still remains on the farm ; 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 0 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 course 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.
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. Grosper. 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. Frank I.) Jennie Bell-Binger
I am a Nebraska product, having been bom in the city of
Lincohi, just across the street from the state university, on R
street, between Eleventh and Twelfth.
When yet very young my proud mother entered me in an old-
fashioned baby show which was held itn 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 correctly 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 short, I evidently, at that tender age,
knew when to put on my company manners, and when the prizes
were awarded, I held the lucky niunber and rode away in a
handsome baby buggy, the first prize.
The second prize was awarded to John Dean Ringer, second
son of Mr. and Mrs. Bradford Ringer. The third prize was
given to Harry Hardenburg; 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 the first prize away from me at the baby
MAJIKING 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 repoi-ted 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 Omaba chapter had decided to erect a monument.
At a meeting of the Omaha chapter in 1901, the state regent
directed 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
Daughters of the American Revolution held in Nebraska, the
meeting having been called especially for that purpose, in Octo-
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 7%x8i4x3i4 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 Miss Anna Tribell
Adams of the Omaha chapter for the American Monthly of Jan-
uary, 1905 :
' ' On August 3, 1904, the village of Fort Calhoun, fifteen miles
above Omaha on the Missouri river, vs^as 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 flags. Everyone wore
with a small flag the souvenir button on which was a picture of
tlie boulder with a suitable inscription. As a matter of history
it is a pleasure to record that the button was designed by Mrs.
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 Eind 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 Stat-e Historical Society, to the care of the
citizens of Fort Calhoun."
EARLY HISTORY OF LINCOLN COUNTY
By Major Lestee 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 Auguste 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
Missouri 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 town 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 with 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) near 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 known 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 0 '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 Omaba, 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 from 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 telegi-aph line was com-
pleted through the county. In June, 1861, the first white child
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 Port
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 was made the coimty-seat. The following
officers were elected: County commissioners — I. P. Boyer, J.
C. Gilman 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 arrangements
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. Oilman, 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 cafions 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 soldiers 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 as^mble at North Platte, where they
were met by the commissioners appointed by the government to
treat with them. These commissioners were Greneral Sherman,
General Haraey, and John P. Sanbome, and a treaty of peace
was entered into. During the stay of these commissioners, they
were well 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 fii-st 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 treasuiy 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
Indiana 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 Noi-th 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 Millabd S. Binnet
It is not often that one sees a real Indian chief on the streets
of Pullerton, but such happened in June, 1913, when the city
was visited by David Gillingham, as he is known in the English
tongne, 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^vned by that tribe.
Gray Eagle was bom about three miles this side of Genoa, 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 horseback, and the memories of it are very interesting as in-
terpreted 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 spot that is now FuUerton — then only a few rude
shacks.
Uppermost in Gray Eagle's mind had always been the desire
to return and 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. Prom
St. Louis he went to Chicago 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 talked
to us on this last visit, ' ' and 1 have been successful in my under-
taking. I found it last week, three miles this side of Genoa. I
was bom in a little, round mud-house, and although the house
is long since gone, I discovered the circular mound that had
been its foimdation. I stood upon the very 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 com 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 buif alo. ' '
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 Mes. a. p. Jarvis
I paiise 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 moi-e 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.
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. Saeah Clapp
In 1843 Mr. and Mrs. Lester W. Piatt were first engaged 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 Genoa, Mrs. Piatt was made
matron or superintendent.
My mother taught in this school during the years 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, Mrs. 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 taught in the Genoa school, the Sioux,
who were the greatest enemies of the Pawnees, on account of
wanting to hunt in the same territory, were supposed to be
friendly with the settlers, but drove away their horses and cattle
and stole everything in sight, furnishing much excitement.
My father. Captain S. E. Gushing, accompanied my uncle.
Major Frank North, on a number of expeditions against the
hostile Indians, during the years 1869 until 1877. He was with
Major North at the time of the famous charge on the village of
the Cheyennes, when the notorious chief, TaU Bull, was killed
by my uncle.
In 1856. when Frank North came to Nebraska, a young boy,
he mingled fearlessly with the Indians along the Missouri in the
region of Omaha, where our family first settled, learning their
mode of warfare and living, and their language, which he spoke
as fluently as his mother tongue. In 1861 he took a position as
clerk and interpreter at the Pawnee reservation and by 1863 he
had become known as a daring scout.
The next year the building of the Union Pacific railroad was
started, and as the work progressed westward the fierce Arapa-
hoes, Cheyennes, and Sioux began attacking the laborers, until
198
EARLY INDIAN HISTORY 199
it seemed deadly peril to venture outside the camps. It was use-
less to call on the regular troops for help as the government
needed them all to hold in check the armies of Lee and John-
ston. A clipping from the Washington Sunday Herald, on this
subject, states that "a happy thought occurred to Mr. Oakes
Ames," the main spirit of the work. He sent a trusty agent to
hunt up Frank North, who was then twenty-four years old.
"What can be done to protect our working parties, Mr. North?"
said Mr. Ames. "I have an idea," Mr. North answered. "If
the authorities at Washington will allow me to organize a bat-
talion of Pawnees and mount and equip them, I will undertake
to picket your entire line and keep off other Indians.
"The Pawnees are the natural enemies of all the tribes that
are giving you so much trouble, and a little encouragement and
drill will make them the best irregular horse you could desire. ' '
This plan was new but looked feasible. Accordingly Mr. Ames
went to Washington, and, after some effort, succeeded in getting
permission to organize a battalion of four hundred Pawnee war-
riors, who should be armed as were the U. S. cavalry and drilled
in such simple tactics as the service required, and my uncle was
commissioned a major of volunteers and ordered to command
them. The newspaper clipping also says : "It would be difficult
to estimate the service of Major North in money value." Gen-
eral Crook once said, in spesiking of him, "Millions of govern-
ment property and hundreds of lives were saved by him on the
line of the Union Pacific railroad, and on the Nebraska, Wyo-
ming, and Montana frontiers."
There is much to be said in his praise, but I did not intend
writing a eulogy, rather to tell of the stories which have come
down to me, with which he and my other relatives were so
closely connected.
During the many skirmishes and battles fought by the Paw-
nees, under Major North, he never lost a man ; moreover, on sev-
eral different occasions he passed through such hair-breadth
escapes that the Pawnees thought him invulnerable. In one in-
stance, while pursuing the retreating enemy, he discovered that
his command had fallen back and he was sepai-ated from them
by over a mile. The enemy, discovering his plight, turned on
him. He dismounted, being fully armed, and by using his horse
as a breastwork he managed to reach his troops again, though
200 NEBEASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
his faithful horse was killed. This and many like experiences
caused the Pawnees to believe that their revered leader led a
charmed life. He never deceived them, and they loved to call
him "Little Pawnee Le-Sharo" (Pawnee Chief), and so he was
known as the White Chief of the Pawnees.
The coming of the railroad through the state, bringing thou-
sands of settlers with household furnishings and machinery for
tilling the soil, was of the greatest importance. It was concern-
ing the guarding of that right of way that a writer for the
Horse World has some interesting memories and devotes an
article in a number in February, 1896, to the stories of Colonel
W. F. Cody, Major Frank North, Captain Charles Morse, Cap-
tain Luther North, Captain Fred Mathews, and my father. Cap-
tain S. B. Gushing. The correspondent was under my father,
in Company B, during one of the scouting expeditions, when the
company was sent to guard 0 'Fallon 's Bluffs, west of Fort Mc-
Pherson on the Union Pacific. He tells much more of camp
activities and of his initiation into border life than of the skir-
mishes or scouting trips. He was fond of horses and tells of a
memorable raee in which a horse of Buffalo Bill 's was beaten by
my father's horse "Jack."
My uncle, Captain Luther North, who also commanded a com-
pany of scouts at that time, now resides in Omaha.
While yet a boy he freighted between Omaha and Colvunbus
and carried the mail, by pony, during a period when my grand-
mother felt that when she bade him good-bye in the morning she
might never see him again, so unsettled was the feeling about
the Indians. He was intimately acquainted with every phase of
Indian life. He knew their pastimes and games, work of the
medicine men and magicians, and especially was he familiar with
many of their legends. I am happy to have been one of the
children who often gathered 'round him to listen to the tales of
his own experiences or stories told him by the red men.
One personal experience in the family happened before the
building of the railroad, probably in sixty-one or sixty-two. A
number of men, accompanied by the wives of two of them, went
to put up hay for the government, on land located between
Genoa and Monroe. One night the Indians surrounded their
camp, presumably to drive away their stock. Naturally the
party rebelled, and during the melee which followed Adam
EARLY INDIAN HISTORY 201
Smith and another man were killed and one of the women, Mrs.
Murray, was wounded but saved herself by crawling away
through the tall grass. The recital of this trouble grew in mag-
nitude the farther it traveled, until people grew frantic with
fear, believing it to mean an uprising of the Sioux. The settlers
from Shell creek and all directions, bringing horses, cattle, and
•even their fowls, together with personal belongings, flocked into
the village of Columbus for mutual protection. My mother,
then a young girl, describes the first night as one of much con-
fusion.
Some of the fugitives were sheltered with friends, others
camped in the open. Animals, feeling as strange as did their
masters, were bawling or screeching, and no one could sleep, as
the greatest excitement prevailed.
' ' They built a stockade of upright posts about eight feet high,
around the town," says my uncle Luther, thinking that as the
Indiana usually fought on horseback, this would be a great help
if not a first-class fort.
They organized a militia company and men were detailed for
guard duty and stationed at different points along the stockade,
so serious seemed the situation. One night Luther North and
two other young men were sent on picket duty outside the stock-
ade. They took their horses and blankets and went up west of
town about half a mile, to keep an eye on the surrounding coun-
try. A Mr. Needham had gone up to his farm (now the John
Dawson farm) that day, and did not return until it was getting
dark. The guards thought it would be great fun to give him a
little scare, so as he approached they wrapped themselves in
their blankets, mounted, and rode down under a bank. Just as
he passed they came up in sight and gave the Indian war whoop
and started after him. He whipped his team into a run; they
chased him, yelling at every step, but stopped a reasonable dis-
tance from the stockade and then went back. Mr. Needham
gave graphic description of how the Indians had chased him,
which so upset the entire population that sleep was out of the
question that night. Moreover he cautioned his wife in this
wise: "Now, Christina, if the Indians come, it is everybody
for himself, and you will have to skulk." This remark made by
Mr. Needham became a byword, and even down into the next
generation was a favorite saying and always provoked a smile.
202 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
The young guards had no fear whatever of marauding Indians,
and, blissfully unaware of the commotion they had aroused,
went back up the road to a melon patch, ate a sufficient amount
of the luscious fruit, picketed their horses, wrapped themselves
in their blankets, and lay them down to pleasant dreams. The
next morning they rode into town and reported no red men in
sight. After a few weeks, when there was no further evidence
of trouble from the savages, the people gradually dispersed to
their homes and farms which were, by that time, much in need
of attention.
Mes. Okeal S. Ward
Ninth State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American
Revolution. 1909-1910
THE BLIZZARD OP 1888
By Minnie Freeman Penney
On January 12, 1888, the states of Nebraska and South Dakota
were visited by a blizzard so fierce and cruel and death-dealing
that residents of those sections cannot speak of it even now with-
out an involuntary shudder.
The storm burst with great suddenness and fury, and many
there were who did not live to tell the story of their suffering.
And none suffered more keenly than did the occupants of the
prairie schoolhouses. Teachers and pupils lost their lives or
were terribly maimed. The great storm indicated most impres-
sively the measure of danger and trial that must be endured by
the country school teacher in the isolated places on the frontier.
Three Nebraska country school teachers — Loie Royee of
Plainfield, Etta Shattuck of Holt county, and Minnie Freeman
of Mira Valley, were the subjects of much newspaper writing.
Miss Royce had nine pupils. Six went home for luncheon and
remained on account of the storm. The three remaining pupils
with the teacher stayed in the schoolhouse until three o'clock.
Their fuel gave out, and as her boarding house was but fifteen
rods away, the teacher decided to take the children home with
her.
In the fury of the storm they wandered and were lost. Dark-
ness came, and vrith it death. One little boy sank into the
eternal silence. The brave little teacher stretched herself out
on the cold ground and cuddled the two remaining ones closer.
Then the other little boy died and at daylight the spirit of the
little girl, aged seven, fluttered away, leaving the young teacher
frozen and dumb with agony. Loie Royce ' ' hath done what she
could ; angels can do no better. ' ' Miss Royce lost both feet by
amputation.
Etta Shattuck, after sending her children home (all living
near) tried to go to her home. Losing her way, she took refuge
in a haystack, where she remained, helpless and hungry Friday,
204 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
Saturday, and Sunday, suffering intensely and not able to move.
She lived but a short time after her terrible experience.
Minnie Freeman was teaching in Mira Valley, Valley county.
She had in her charge seventeen pupils. Finding it impossible
to remain in the schoolhouse, she took the children with her to
her boarding place almost a mile from the schoolhouse.
Words are useless in the effort to portray that journey to the
safe shelter of the farmhouse, with the touching obedience of
the children to every word of direction — rather felt than heard,
in that fierce winding-sheet of ice and snow. How it cut and
almost blinded them ! It was terrible on their eyes. They beat
their way onward, groping blindly in the darkness, with the
visions of life and death ever before the young teacher respon-
sible for the destiny of seventeen souls.
All reached the farmhouse and were given a nice warm supper
prepared by the hostess and the teacher, and comfortable beds
provided.
Minnie Freeman was unconscious of anything heroic or un-
usual. Doing it in the simple line of duty to those placed in
her care, she still maintains that it was the trust placed in the
Great Spirit who guides and cares for His own which led the
little band —
"Through the desert and illimitable air.
Lone wandering, but not lost. ' '
AN ACROSTIC
Written to Miss Minnie Freeman in 1888 hy Mrs. Ellis of St.
Paul, Nebraska. Mrs. Ellis was then seventy-eight
years old — now deceased
'Midst driving winds and blinding snows.
Impending dangers round her close;
No shelter from the blast and sleet.
No earthly help to guide her feet.
In God alone she puts her trust,
Ever to guide the brave and just.
Fierce and loud the awful storm,
Backing now her slender form.
Eager to save the little band
THE BLIZZARD OF 1888 205
Entrusted to her guiding hand.
Marshalled her host, see, forth she goes
And falters not while tempest blows;
Now God alone can help, she knows.
See them falling as they go ;
Angry winds around them blow.
Is there none to hear their cry?
Now her strength will almost fail;
Tranquil, she braves the fearful gale.
Preeminent her name shall stand,
A beacon light o'er all the land,
Unrivalled on the page of time ;
Let song and story swell the chime.
EARLY DAYS IN NANCE COUNTY
By Mrs. Ellen Saunders Walton
In 1872, after passing through a great sorrow, a longing came
to me to enter the missionary field among the Indians. At that
time the Pawnee tribe was located on their reservation, now
Nance county, and I was sent to work among them. It was in-
teresting, at the same time sad and depressing, to wit-
ness the degeneration and savagery of tribal life; and ofttimes
it was seemingly hopeless to civilize and christianize them.
In 1874 the Pawnees were removed by the government to In-
dian territory, now Oklahoma, and the reservation was thrown
on the market. This became Nance county, and a new order of
things followed. Settlers came to the little hamlet of Genoa,
that had been first settled by the Mormons in 1857, and though
later given over to the Indians, it was one of the oldest towns
in Nebraska,
A church was established under the care of the New England
Congregational Mission and Rev. Charles Starbuck was put in
charge. A small farmhouse where travelers could be accommo-
dated, and a few homes of those who had bought land, com-
prised the village life. This freedom from restraint was indeed
new to one accustomed to the rush of busy life in New York.
Daily rides over the prairie on my pony were a delight.
It was wonderful how many cultured people drifted into the
almost unknown western country. It was not infrequent to see
in humble sod houses shelves filled with standard books and
writings of the best authors. This was the second wave of pop-
ulation, and though many things had to be sacrificed that in the
old life were considered necessary to comfort, pioneer life had
its happy features. One especially was the kindly expression of
helpfulness in time of sickness or sorrow. The discomforts and
self denials and the longing for dear ones far away grow dim
and faded! only memories of pleasant hours remain. Then
came the third wave of men and women settling all around.
EAELY DAYS IN NANCE COUNTY 207
bringing fashion and refining influences, and entertainment of
various kinds. Churches, elevators, banks, and business houses
were built and Nance county began to show the march of civil-
ization and progress. Where first we knew the flower-gemmed
prairie, modem homes spring up and good roads follow the
trails of the Indian and the hunter.
THE PAWNEE CHIEF'S FAREWELL
By Chauncey Livingston Wiltse
Aa I strolled alone, when the day had flown,
Through the once Pawnee reserve,
Where the memories keep of the brave asleep
By the winding Cedar's curve —
Methought the leaves of the old oak trees
'Neath the sheltering hill-range spoke.
And they said : "It's here that hearts knew no fear,
Where arose the Pawnee smoke!
' In the eventide, when all cares subside.
Is the hour the tribe liked best;
When the gold of day crossed the hills away,
And, like those who tried, found rest.
O'er this Lovers' Leap, where now shadows creep.
Strode the chief, in thought, alone —
And he said : ' Trees true, and all stars in view,
And you very winds my own !
' I soon shall pass, like the blades of grass,
Where the wandering shadows go;
Only leaves wdll tell what my tribe did well —
But you Hearts of Oak — you know !
To those Hunting Grounds that are never found
Shall my tribe, in time, depart;
Then it wiU be you to tell who were true,
With the dawn-song in their heart!
'You will sing a song, with the winds along.
How the Pawnee loved these hills!
Here he loved to stray, all the wind-glad day —
In his heart the wind sings still !
You will whisper, too, how he braved the Sioux,
How life 's days he did his part ;
THE PAWNEE CHIEF'S FAEEWELL 209
Though not understood, how he wished hut good,
With but love within his heart !
'The White Father's call reaches us, and all
To his South Wind land we fly,
Yet we fain would stay with you hills alway —
It is hard to say good-bye!
You, our fatherland, we could once command,
We are driven from, so fast;
But you hills alway in our hearts will stay
And be with us at the last !
'Here we took our stand for our fatherland.
Here our sons to manhood grew ;
Here their loves were found, where these hills surround —
Here the winds sang to them, too !
By this Cedar's side, where the waters glide,
We went forth to hunt and dream;
Here we felt the speU of you oaks as well,
And felt all that love may seem!
'Here we felt the pang of the hot wind tang,
Here we felt the blizzard's breath;
Here we faced the foe, as the stars aU know —
Here we saw the face of Death!
Here we braved the wrath of the lightning's path.
Here we dared starvation's worst;
Here tonight we stand, for our fatherland,
Banished from what was ours — first !
' Bravely we obey, and will go away ;
The White Father wills it so ;
But our thoughts will roam to this dawntime home
Where our fathers sleep, below!
And some shining day, beyond white men's sway.
We will meet our long-lost own —
Where you singing winds and the dawn begins,
One will say, "Come in — come home!"
'Just beyond you hills, the Rest Land still
Is waiting for us all ;
210 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
At earth's sunset hour One will wake each flower,
And us home will softly call !
Trees and stream, good-bye! Now our parting's nigh ;
Know you memory's sweet to me!
Though our footsteps go, you may always know
You've the heart of each Pawnee!'
"As the chief passed by, stars filled the sky.
And the moonlight softest fell —
But the night winds said, 'Peace is overhead!'
And the hills said, 'All is well!' "
MY TRIP WEST IN 1861
By Sarah Schooley Randall
In 1857 my brother, Charles A. Schooley, landed at Brown-
villa and soon after purchased several tracts of land near there,
one being the old home of Church Howe and adjoining the pres-
ent site of the village of Howe. Incidentally, my husband's
father, N. G. Randall, three years later purchased land within
three miles — known later as Bedford.
In 1860, while my brother was visiting his old home. White
Deer Valley, near Williamsport, Pennsylvania, the smoldering
flames of adventure were kindled in my mind which nothing but
a trip west could quench. On March 1, 1861, we left Williams-
port by train from Pittsburgh and on arriving there went to the
Monongahela hotel, then a magnificent building. Abe Lincoln
had just left the hotel, much to our disappointment. After a
few days we engaged passage on the Argonaut to St. Louis via
the Monongahela, the Ohio, and the Mississippi rivers. Our
experiences were varied and exciting enough to meet my expec-
tations. During one night we stood tied to a tree and another
night the pumps were kept going to keep us from sinking.
Small consolation we got from the captain's remark that this
was "the last trip for this old hulk." We had ample time for
seeing all the important cities along the shore — Cincinnati,
Louisville, etc.
Arriving at St. Louis we took passage on a new boat, Smv-
shdne, and set sail upstream. Perhaps we felt a few pangs of
fear as we neared the real pioneer life. We changed boats again
at St. Joe and then our trip continued, now up the treacherous
Missouri. Every now and then we struck a snag which sent the
dishes scurrying from the table. I am reminded that this trip
was typical of our lives: floating downstream is easy but up-
stream is where we strike the snags.
Of our valued acquaintances met on the trip were Rev. and Mrs.
Barrette, the former a Presbyterian minister comiag to Brown-
ville, and our friendship continued after reaching our destination.
211
212 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
Arriving in Brownville, we went to the McPherson hotel, where
we continued to hear disturbing rumors about the coining civil
war.
After a few days we took a carriage and went west ten miles
over the beautiful rolling prairies to our ranch. I was charmed
with the scene, which was vastly different from the mountains
and narrow winding valleys of Pennsylvania, and was deter-
mined to stay, though my brother had lost his enthusiasm and
gave me two weeks to change my mind. Many a homesick spell
I had when I would have very quickly returned to my father's
home of peace and plenty, but the danger of travel detained me.
I assured my brother that if he would only stay I would be very
brave and economical. I only wanted five small rooms plainly
furnished and a horse and carriage. When the place was ready
we left Brownville in a big wagon, drawn by oxen, and fortified
by a load of provisions. When we came in sight of our bunga-
low it proved to be a one-room, unpainted and unplastered edi-
fice, but I soon overcame that defect by the use of curtains, and
as all lived alike then, we were content with our surroundings.
Our first callers were three hundred Indians on an expedition.
I had been reading extensively about Indians, so knew when I
saw their squaws and papooses with them that they were friend-
ly — in fact, rather too familiar.
My brother fenced his land and planted it in com and all
kinds of vegetables. The season being favorable there was an
abundant crop, both cultivated and wild. The timber abounded
with grapes, plums, nuts, etc., and strawberries on the prairiesi
We had a well of fine water, a good cellar or cave, and a genu-
ine "creampot" cow. Instead of a carriage I had a fine saddle
horse (afterwards sold to a captain in the army), and how we
did gallop over the prairies! One of my escapades was to a
neighbor's home ten miles away for ripe tomatoes. In lieu of a
sack we tied together the neck and sleeves of a calico wrapper,
filled it with the tomatoes, then tied the bottom and balanced it
astride the horse in front of me. Going through the tall slough
grass in one place near Sheridan, now Auburn, the horse became
frantic with heat and flies and attempted to run away. The
strings gave way and the tomatoes scattered. Finally the saddle
turned and the well-trained horse stopped. An inventory re-
vealed one sleeve fuU of tomatoes remaining.
MY TEIP WEST IN 1861 213
Among our near neighbors were Mr. and Mrs. Milo Gates and
family, and Mr. and Mrs. Engle. Mrs. Gates's cheerful op-
timism made this pioneer life not only possible but enjoyable.
After five months, my brother joined the army and went south
as a captain ; was several times promoted, and stayed all through
the war. A year after I went back to Brownville to stay untU
the war was over, and there made many valued acquaintances:
Senator Tipton's sister, Mrs. Atkinson, Judge Wheeler, H. C.
Lett, the McCrearys, Hackers, Whitneys, Carsons, Dr. Guin,
Pumas, Johnson, etc. About this time the citizens gave a party
for the boys who enlisted, and there I met E. J. Randall, whom
I married soon after he returned from the army. Of the four
Randall brothers who enlisted one was killed, one wounded, and
one taken prisoner. Two of them still live. Dr. H. L. Randall
of Aurora, forty-seven years a practicing physician in Nebraska
and at one time surgeon at the Soldiers' Home, Grand Island;
and A. D. Randall of Chapman, Nebraska, who enlisted at the
age of sixteen and served all through the war.
After a college course of four years my husband entered the
ministry and sei-ved for twenty-five years in Nebraska, except
for one year of mission work at Cheyenne, "Wyoming. The
itinerant life is not unlike the pioneer life and brought with it
the bitter and sweet as well, but the bitter was soon forgotten
and blessed memories remain of the dear friends scattered all
over the state of Nebraska, and indeed to the ends of the earth.
Dr. Wharton said when paying his tribute to my departed
husband, "He still lives on in the lives of those to whom he has
ministered." Our children are Charles H. Randall of Los An-
geles, California, member of congress, and Mrs. Anna Randall
Pope of Lincoln, Nebraska.
STIRRING EVENTS ALONG THE LITTLE BLUE
By Clakendon E. Adams
Painting a Buffalo
The following narrative of Albert Bierstadt's visit to what is
now Nuckolls county. Nebraska, was told to me by Mr. E. S.
Comstock, a pioneer of the county. Mr. Comstoek made his first
settlement in this county at Oak Grove, in 1858, and was ia
charge of the Oak Grove ranch when this incident took place.
In 1863 Mr. Bierstadt returned from the Pacific coast via the
Overland stage route, which was then conducted by Russell,
Majors & Waddell, the pioneer stage and pony expressmen of the
plains. Arriving at Oak Grove ranch, Mr. Bierstadt and his
traveling companion, a Mr. Dunlap, correspondent of the New
York Post, decided to stop a few days and have a buffalo hunt.
In company with E. S. Comstock, his son George, and a neigh-
bor by the name of Eubanks, who was killed by the Indians the
next year, they proceeded to the Republican Valley and camped
the first night in the grove on Lost creek, now known as Lincoln
Park. The following morning the party proceeded up the river
to the farm now owned by Frank Schmeling. Here they discov-
ered a large herd of buffalo grazing along the creek to the west
and covering the prairies to the north for several miles. Mr.
Comstock says that it was one of the largest herds of buffalo he
had ever encountered and that Mr. Bierstadt became greatly
excited and said, "Now, boys, is our time for fun. I want to
see an enraged wounded buffalo. I want to see him so mad that
he will bellow and tear up the ground." Mr. Comstock said
they arranged for the affray : Mr. Bierstadt was to take his posi-
tion on a small knoll to the east of the herd, fix himself with his
easel so that he could sketch the landscape and the grazing
bison, and when this was done the wounding of one of the buf-
falo bulls was to take place.
Bierstadt was stationed on a small knoll in plain view of the
herd; Mr. Eubanks was stationed in a draw near Bierstadt, in
214
EVENTS ALONG LITTLE BLUE 215
order to protect him from the charges of the buffalo, if neces-
sary. George Comstock was to select a buffalo bull from the
herd and wound him and then tantalize him by shaking a red
blanket at him until he was thoroughly enraged, then he was to
give him another wound from his rifle and lead out in the direc-
tion of Mr. Bierstadt.
The wounded buffalo became furious and charged Comstock 's
horse repeatedly, but Comstock, being an expert horseman,
evaded the fierce charges and was all the time coming nearer to
Bierstadt. When within about three hundred yards Comstock
whirled his horse to the side of the maddened monster. As a
buffalo does not see well out of the side of his eyes on account
of the long shaggy hair about the face, Comstock was lost to
his view. The infuriated animal tossed his head high in air and
the only thing he saw was Bierstadt. Onward he rushed toward
the artist, pawing the ground and liellowing furiously. Bier-
stadt called for help and took to his heels. The buffalo struck
the easel and sent it in splinters through the air. Onward he
rushed after the fleeing artist, who was making the best time of
his life. Mr. Comstock said he was running so fast that his coat
tails stuck so straight out that you could have played a game of
euchre on them. The buffalo was gaining at every jump.
At this point in his story Mr. Comstock became greatly ex-
cited. He was standing on the identical spot telling me the
story, and was living the exciting scene over again. "Why,"
he said, "I thought Eubanks never would shoot. I was scared.
The buffalo nearly had his horns under Bierstadt 's coat tail. He
was snorting froth and blood all over him, but the gun cracked
and the buffalo fell and Bierstadt was so overcome he fell at the
same time entii-ely exhausted, but saved from a fearful death."
When he recovered sufSciently to talk, he said, ' ' That 's enough ;
no more wounded buffalo for me." Mr. Bierstadt was several
days recovering from his fearful experience, but while he was
recovering, he was painting the picture. "Mr. Dunlap, the cor-
respondent, wrote a graphic and vivid pen picture of the excit-
ing scene," said Mr. Comstock; "but when Mr. Bierstadt fin-
ished his picture of the infuriated charging buffalo and the
chase, the pen picture was not in it."
This was the painting that brought Bierstadt into prominence
as an artist. It was exhibited at the first Chicago exhibition and
216 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
was sold for $75,000. I saw the picture in Chicago before I
heard Mr. Comstock's narrative, and as I was one of the owners
of El Capitan Eancho, the landscape of the famous painting, I
fixed his story vividly upon my memory. Mr. Mike Woerner
now owns a portion of El Capitan Rancho, the landscape of this
famous painting. A portion of this original painting is em-
braced in Mr. Bierstadt's masterpiece, "The Last of the Buf-
falo. ' '
An Indian Raid
The settlement of the section now included in Nuckolls county
was attended with more privation and suffering from Indian
raids and depredations than any other county in the state of
Nebraska. The great Indian raids of August 7, 1864, extended
from Denver, Colorado, to Gage county, Nebraska, at which
time every stage station and settlement along the entire line of
the Overland trail was included in that skilfully planned at-
tack. A certain number of warriors were assigned to each place
and the attack was simultaneous along the line for four hundred
miles in extent.
The Oak Grove ranch was among the most formidable in forti-
fications and a band of forty well-armed braves was sent to cap-
ture and destroy it. On the day of the attack G. S. Comstock,
owner of Oak Grove ranch, was away from home; but besides
his family there were five men at the stockade. The Indians
came to the ranch about midday in a friendly attitude. They
had left their ponies about a quarter of a mile away. They
asked for something to eat and were permitted to come into the
house with their guns and bows and arrows on their persons.
They finished their dinner and each received a portion of to-
bacco and some matches. Then without any warning they turned
upon the inmates of the ranch yelling and shooting like demons,
and only for the quickness and great presence of mind of one of
the Comstock boys the whites would all have been killed or taken
away captives to submit to the cruelty of the savage foe.
A Mr. Kelly, from Beatrice, was there and was the first to fall
pierced with an arrow. He had a navy revolver in his belt.
The Indians rushed for it but young Comstock was too quick
for them and seized the revolver first and shot down the leader
of the braves. Seeing the fate of their leader, the Indians
rushed to the door in great fright. The revolver was in skilful
EVENTS ALONG LITTLE BLUE 217
hands and three more of the braves went down under the un-
erring aim of young Comstoek. Kelly and Butler were both
killed outright. Two men by the name of Ostrander and a boy
were wounded. All the other occupants of the ranch had their
clothes pierced with arrows or bullets.
The Indians ran to their ponies, and while they were away
planning another attack, the wounded were cared for as best
they could. The doors were securely barred and the living were
stationed in the most advantageous places for defense. The
friendly game of the Indians had not worked as they expected,
but they were not daunted and soon they encircled the house,
riding, shooting, and yelling. This fiendish warfare they kept
up aU the afternoon. They tried several times to set the build-
ings on fire but shots from experienced marksmen, both men and
women, kept them at bay.
The new leader of the Indians rode a white pony and seemed
at times to work his warriors up to great desperation, and young
Comstoek made up his mind to shoot him the next time that he
appeared. It was now too dark to distinguish one man from
another. Mr. Comstoek, senior, was mounted on a white horse
and he was enroute home about the time the Indians were ex-
pected to return. The vigilant son raised his gun, took aim, and
was about to shoot, when one of the girls, remembering that her
father rode a white horse, caUed out, ' ' Father, is it you 1" An
affirmative answer came back just in time to prevent the fatal
shot which would have followed in an istant more. Mr. Corn-
stock had ridden through the Indian lines, while returning to his
ranch, umnolested. He said to me he believed the Indians
spared his life that evening on account of favors he had always
granted them.
Five miles east of the Comstoek ranch that day a boy eighteen
years old by the name of Ulig was met by two Indians. One of
them shook hands with him while the other pierced his body with
a spear and then scalped him and left him writhing in the broil-
ing sun to die on the prairie. This savage and brutal act was
followed by others unparalleled even in savage warfare. Pour
miles above Oak G-rove at a place called the Narrows on the
Little Blue river, lived a family of ten persons by the name of
Eubanks. They were from the East and knew nothing of In-
dians' cruel warfare and when they were attacked they left
218 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
their cabin and ran for the trees and brush along the river banks.
Nine of them were murdered in the most brutal manner : scalped
and stripped of their clothing. Two of the women, Mrs. Eubanks,
with a young babe in her arms, and Laura Roper, a school teach-
er who was there on a visit, were the only ones who arrived at a
place of concealment and would have escaped had not the babe
from heat and fright cried out. The practiced ear of the In-
dians caught the sound and they were made captives and sub-
jected to the most inhuman and beastly treatment by the hor-
rible savages. After the mother was made a captive the baby
cried from hunger. The mother wa.s so famished she could not
nourish the babe but held it fondly in her arms trying to soothe
it; and one of the merciless savages stepped up and brained it
with his tomahawk. No pen or brush can tell the horrors of
this diabolical deed.
The two women were subjected to six months of bondage im-
possible to describe. I was telling this story one day to the late
Captain Henry E. Palmer of Omaha, and learned from him that
he and his command of soldiers and Pawnee scouts- followed
these inhuman wretches over the plains trying to bring them to
bay, and finally down on the Solomon river in Kansas captured
some of the Indian chiefs and succeeded in exchanging them for
the two women captives.
This is one of the terrible chapters in the early settlement of
Nuckolls county and was graphically detailed to me by Mr.
Comstock soon after I settled in the county.
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT
By J. Sterling Morton
(Read before the Nebraska State Historical Society, January
10, 1899)
Among all the glowing and glorious autumns of the forty-odd
which I have enjoyed in clear-skied Nebraska, the most delicious,
dreamy, and tranquil was that of 1861. The first day of Octo-
ber in that year surpassed in purity of air, clouds, and coloring
all the other October days in my whole life. The prairies were
not a somber brown, but a gorgeous old-gold; and there drifted
in the dry, crisp atmosphere lace-like fragments of opalescent
clouds which later in the afternoon gave the horizon the look of
a far-away ocean upon which one could see fairy ships, and
upon its farther-away shores splendid castles, their minarets and
towers tipped with gold. The indolence of savagery saturated
every inhalation, and all physical exertion except in the hunt
or chase seemed repellant, irksome, and unendurable.
Then it was that — like an evolution from environment —
the desire and impulse to go upon a buffalo hunt seized upon
and held and encompassed and dominated every fibre of my
physical, every ambition and aspiration of my mental, make-up.
Controlled by this spontaneous reincarnation of the barbaric
tastes and habits of some nomadic ancestor of a prehistoric gen-
eration, arrangements for an excursion to Fort Kearny on the
Platte (Colonel Alexander, of the regular army, then in com-
mand) were completed. With food rations, tent and camping
furniture, and arms and ammunition, and pipes and tobacco,
and a few drops of distilled rye (to be used only when snake-
bitten), a light one-horse wagon drawn by a well-bred horse
which was driven by the writer, was early the next morning
leaving Arbor Lodge, and briskly speeding westward on the
"Overland Trail" leading to California. And what rare roads
there were in those buoyant days of the pioneers! All the
prairies, clear across the plains from the Missouri river to the
mountains, were perfectly paved with solid, tough, but elastic
219
220 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
sod. And no asphalt or block-paved avenue or well-worked pike
can give the responsive pressure to the touch of a human foot
or a horse-hoof that came always from those smooth and comely
trails. Especially in riding on horseback were the felicities of
those primitive prairie roads emphasized and accentuated. Upon
them one felt the magnetism and life of his horse ; they animated
and electrified him mth the vigor and spirit of the animal until
in elation, the rider became, at least emotionally, a centaur — a
semi-horse human. The invigoration and exaltation of career-
ing over undulating prairies on a beautiful, speedy, and spirited
horse thrilled every sense and satisfied, as to exhilaration, by
physical exercise, the entire mental personality. Nature's roads
in Nebraska are unequaled by any of their successors.
This excursion was in a wagon without springs; and after
driving alone, as far as the Weeping Water crossing, I overtook
an ox train loaded with goods and supplies for Oilman's ranch
on the Platte away beyond Fort Kearny.
One of the proprietors, Mr. Jed Oilman, was in command of
the outfit, and by his cordial and hospitable invitation I became
his willing and voracious guest for the noonday meal. With a
township for a dining room over which arched the turquoise-
colored sky, like a vaulted ceiling, frescoed with clouds of fleecy
white, we sat down upon our buffalo robes to partake of a hearty
meal. There was no white settler within miles of our camp.
The cry of "Dinner is now ready in the next car" had never
been heard west of the Mississippi river nor even dreamed of in
the East. The bill of fare was substantial: bacon fried, hot
bread, strong coffee, stronger raw onions, and roasted potatoes.
And the appetite which made all exquisitely palatable and de-
licious descended to us out of the pure air and the exhilaration
of perfect health. And then came the post-prandial pipe — how
fragrant and solacing its fumes — from Virginia natural leaf,
compared to which the exhalations from a perfecto cigar are
today a disagreeable stench. There was then the leisure to
smoke, the liberty and impulse to sing, to whoop, and to general-
ly simulate the savages into whose hunting grounds we were
making an excursion. Life lengthened out before us like the
Overland route to the Pacific in undulations of continuously
rising hillocks and from the summit of each one scaled we saw a
similarly attractive one beyond in a seemingly never-ending
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT 221
pathway of pleasure, ambition, and satisfaction. The gold of
the Pacific coast was not more real then than the invisible pos-
sibilities of life, prosperity, success, and contentment which were
to teem, thrive, and abound upon these prairies which seemed
only farms asleep or like thoughts unuttered — books unopened.
But the smoke over, the oxen again yoked to the wagons and
the train, like a file of huge white beetles, lumbered along to the
songs, swearing, and whip-craekinga of the drivers toward the
crossing of Salt creek. However, by my persuasive insistence,
Mr. Gilman left his wagon boss in charge and getting into my
wagon accompanied me. Together we traveled briskly until
quite late at night when we made camp at a point near where
the town of "Wahoo now stands. There was a rough ranch cabin
there, and we remained until the following morning, when we
struck out at a brisk trot toward Fort Kearny, entering the
Platte Valley at McCabe's ranch. The day aud the road were
perfect. We made good time. At night we were entertained
at Warfield's, on the Platte. The water in the well there was
too highly flavored to be refreshing. Nine skunks had been
lifted out of it the day of our arrival and only Platte river water
could be had, which we found rather stale for having been
hauled some distance in an old sorghum cask. But fatigue and a
square meal are an innocent opiate and we were soon fast asleep
under the open sky with the moon and stars only to hear how
loudly a big ranchman can snore in a bedroom of a million or
more acres. In the morning of our third day out, we were up,
breakfasted with the sunrise, and drove on over the then untried
railroad bed of the Platte Valley at a rattling gait. The stanch
and speedy animal over which the reins were drawn, a splendid
bay of gentle birth, had courage and endurance by heredity, and
thus we made time. Ranches were from twenty to thirty miles
apart. And the night of the third day found us at Mabin 's.
This was a hotel, feed bam, dry goods establishment, and sa-
loon all under one roof, about thirty miles from Poi-t Kearny.
After a reasonably edible supper, Mr. Gilman and I were es-
corted to the saloon and informed that we could repose and pos-
sibly sleep in the aisle which divided it from the granary which
was filled with oats. Our blankets and buffalo robes were soon
spread out in this narrow pathway. On our right were about
two hundred bushels of oats in bulk, and on our left the counter
222 NEBEASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
which stood before variously shaped bottles containing alleged
gin, supposed whiskey, and probable brandy. We had not been
long in a recumbent position before — instead of sleep gently
creeping over us — we experienced that we were race courses
and grazing grounds for innumerable myriads of sand fleas.
Immediately Gilmau insisted that we should change our apart-
ment and go out on the prairies near a haystack; but I stub-
bornly insisted that, as the fleas had not bitten me, I would con-
tinue indoors. Thereupon Gilman incontinently left, and then
the fleas with vicious vigor and voracity assaulted me. The
bites were sharp, they were incisive and decisive. They came in
volleys. Then in wrath I too arose from that lowly but lively
couch between the oats and the bar and sullenly went out under
the starlit sky to find Mr. Gilman energetically whipping his
shirt over a wagon wheel to disinfest it from fleas. But the
sand fleas of the Platte are not easily discharged or diverted,
from a fair and juicy victim. They have a wonderful tenacity
of purpose. They trotted and hopped and skipped along behind
us to the haystack. They affectionately and fervidly abided
with us on the prairie; and it is safe to say that there never
were two human beings more thoroughly perforated, more per-
sistently punctured with flea bites than were the two guests at
Mabins's ranch during all that long and agonizing night. How-
ever, there came an end to the darkness and the attempt at
sleep, and after an early breakfast we resumed the Fort Kearny
journey to arrive at its end in the late afternoon of the fourth
day.
There I found Colonel Alexander, of the regular army, in
command. John Heth, of Virginia, was the sutler for the post
and after some consultation and advisement it was determined
that we might without much danger from Indians go south to
the Republican river for a buffalo hunt. At that time the
Cheyennes, who were a bloodthirsty tribe, were in arms against
the white people and yearning for their scalps wherever found.
But to avoid or mitigate dangers Colonel Alexander consider-
ately detailed Lieutenant Bush with twelve enlisted men, all
soldiers of experience in the Indian country, to go with us to the
Republican Valley as an escort or guard — in military parlance,
on detached service. Thus our party moved southward with
ample force of arms for its defense.
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT 223
The four hunters of the expedition were Lieutenant Bush,
John Heth, John Talbot (who had been honorably discharged
from the regular army after some years of service) and myself.
The excursion was massed and ready for departure at 8 o'clock
on the bright morning of October 6, 1861. The course taken
was nearly due south from the present site of Kearney city in
Buffalo county. The expedition consisted of two large army
wagons, four mules attached to each wagon, a light, two-hors«
spring wagon, and four trained riding hoi*ses experienced in the
chase, together with twelve soldiers of the regular U. S. army
and the gentlemen already named. It had not traveled more
than twenty-five miles south of Fort Kearny before it came in
view of an immense and seemingly uncountable herd of buffalo.
My first sight of these primitive beeves of the plains I shall
never forget. They were so distant that I could not make out
their individual fonus and I at once jumped to the conclusion
that they were only an innumerable lot of crows sitting about
upon the knobs and hillocks of the prairies. But in a few mo-
ments, when we came nearer, they materialized and were, sure
enough, real bellowing, snorting, wallo^nng buffaloes. At first
they appeared to give no heed to our outfit, but after we saddled
and mounted our horses and rode into their midst they began to
scatter and to form into small bands, single file. The herd sep-
arated into long, black swaying strings and each string was head-
ed by the best meat among its numbers. The leading animal
was generally a three-year-old cow. Each of these strings, or
single-file bands, ran in a general southeast direction and each
of the four hunters — Bush, Heth, Talbot, and the writer —
selected a string and went for the preeminent animal with
enthusiasm, zeal, and impulsive foolhardiness.
In the beginning of the pell-mell, hurrj'-scurry race it seemed
that it would be vei-y easy to speedily overtake the desired indi-
vidual buffalo that we intended to shoot and kill. The whole
band seemed to run leisurely. They made a sort of sidewise
gait, a movement such as one often sees in a dog running ahead
of a wagon on a counti-y road. Upon the level prairie we made
very perceptible gains upon them, but when a declivity was
reached and we made a down hill gallop we were obliged to rein
in and hold up the horses, or take the chances of a broken leg
or neck by being ditched in a badger or wolf hole. But the
224 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
buffaloea with their heavy shoulders and huge hair-matted heads
lumbered along down the incline with great celerity, gaining so
much upon ua that every now and then one of them would drop
out from the line upon reaching an attractive depression, roU
over two or three times in his "wallow," jump up and join his
fleeing fellows before we could reach him.
But finally after swinging and swaying hither and thither with
the band or line as it swayed and swung, the lead animal was
reached and with much exultation and six very nervous shots
put to death. My trophy proved to be a buffalo cow of two or
three years of age ; and after she had dropped to the ground, a
nimble calf, about three months old, evidently her progeny, began
making circles around and around the dead mother and bleating
pitifully, enlarging the circle each time, until at last it went out
of sight onto the prairie and alone, all the other parts of the
herd having scattered beyond the rising bluffs and far away.
That afternoon was fuller of tense excitement, savage en-
thusiasms, zeal and barbaric ambition than any other that could
be assorted from my life of more than sixty years. There was a
certain amount of ancestral heathenism aroused in every man,
spurring a horse to greater swiftness, in that chase for large
game. And there was imperial exultation of the primitive bar-
baric instinct when the game fell dead and its whooping captors
surrounded its breathless carcass.
But the wastefulness of the buffalo hunter of those days was
wicked beyond description and, because of its utter recklessness
of the future, wholly unpardonable. Only the hump, ribs, the
tongue, and perhaps now and then one hind-quarter were saved
for use from each animal. The average number of pounds of
meat saved from each buffalo killed between the years 1860 and
1870 would not exceed twenty. In truth, thousands of buffaloes
were killed merely to get their tongues and pelts. The inex-
cusable and unnecessary extermination of those beef-producing
and very valuable fur-bearing animals only illustrates the ex-
travagance of thoughtlessness and mental nearsightedness in the
American people when dealing with practical and far-reaching
questions. It also demonstrates, in some degree, the incapacity
of the ordinary every-day law-makers of the United States.
Game laws have seldom been enacted in any of the states before
the virtual extinction of the game they purposed to protect.
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT 225
Here in Nebraska among big game were many hundreds of thous-
ands of buffaloes, tens of thousands of elk and deer and ante-
lope, while among smaller game the wild turkey and the prairie
chicken were innumerable. But today Nebraska game is prac-
tically extinct. Even the prairie chicken and the wild turkey
axe seldom found auywhere along the Missouri bluffs in the
southern and eastern part of the commonwealth.
Looking back: what might have been accomplished for the
conservation of game in the trans-Missouri country is suggested
so forcibly that one wonders at the stupendous stupidity which
indolently pei-mitted its destruction.
The fii-st night outward and southeastward from Fort Kearny
we came to Turkey creek which empties into the Republican
river. There, after dark, tents were pitched at a point near the
place where the government in previous years established kilns
and burned lime for the use of soldiers in building quarters for
themselves and the officers at Fort Kearny which was construct-
ed in 1847 by Stewart L. Van Vliet, now a retired brigadier
general and the oldest living graduate of West Point. After a
sumptuous feast of buffalo steak, a strong pint of black coffee
and a few pipes of good tobacco, our party retired; sleep came
with celerity and the camp was peacefully at rest, with the ex-
ception of two regular soldiers who stood guard until 12 o'clock,
and were then relieved by two others who kept vigil until sun-
rise. At intervals I awoke during the night and listened to the
industrious beavers building dams on the creek. They were
shoveling mud with their trowel-shaped tails into the crevices of
their dams with a constantly-resounding slapping and splashing
all night. The architecture of the beaver is not unlike that
which follows him and exalts itself in the chinked and daubed
cabins of the pioneers.
■ The darkness was followed by a dawn of beauty and breakfast
came soon thereafter, and for the first time my eyes looked out
upon the attractive, fertile and beautiful valley of the Republi-
can river. All that delightful and invigorating day we zealous-
ly hunted. We found occasionally small bands of buffaloes
here and there among the bluffs and hills along the valley of
the Republican. But these animals were generally aged and
of inferior quality. Besides such hunting, we found a great
quantity of blue-winged and green-winged teal in the waters of
226 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
the Republican and bagged not a few of them. There is no
water- fowl, in my judgment, not even the redheaded duck and
canvasback duck, which excels in delicate tissue and flavor the
delicious teal.
Just a little before sundown, on the third day of our encamp-
ment, by the bluffs land of the Republican, Lieutenant Bush
and Mr. Heth in one party, and John Talbot axid I in another,
were exploring the steep, wooded bluffs which skirted the valley.
The timber growing at that time on the sides of these bluffs
was, much of it, of very good size and I shall never forget going
down a precipitous path along the face of a hill and suddenly
coming upon a strange and ghastly sight among the top limbs
and branches of an oak tree which sprang from the rich soU of
a lower level. The weird object which then impressed itself
upon my memory forever was a dead Indian sitting upright in a
sort of wicker-work coffin which was secured by thongs to the
main trunk of the tree. The robe with which he had been
clothed had been torn away by buzzards and only the denuded
skeleton sat there. The bleached skull leered and grinned at me
as though the savage instinct to repulse an intruder from their
hunting grounds still lingered in the fleshless head. Perfectly
I recall the long scalp-lock, floating in the wind, aad the sense
of dread and repellant fear which, for the startled moment, took
possession of me in the presence of this arborially interred In-
dian whose remains had been stored away in a tree-top instead
of having been buried in the ground.
Not long after this incident we four came together again down
in the valley at a great plum orchard. The plum trees covered
an area of several acres; they stood exceedingly close together.
The frosts had been just severe enough to drop the fruit onto
the ground. Never before nor since have my eyes beheld or
my palate tasted as luscious fruit as those large yellow and red
plums which were found that afternoon lying in bushels in the
valley of the Republican. While we were all seated upon the
ground eating plums and praising their succulence and flavor
we heard the click-cluck of a turkey. Immediately we laid our-
selves flat upon the earth and in the course of ten minutes be-
held a procession of at least seventy-five wild turkeys feeding
upon plums. We remained moveless and noiseless until those
turkeys had flowTi up into the tall eottonwood trees standing
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT 227
thereabouts and gone to roost. Then after darkness had set-
tled dowTi upon the face of the earth we faintly discerned the
black forms or hummocks of fat turkeys all through the large
and leafless limbs of the eottonwoods which had been nearly
defoliated by the early frosts of October. It required no deft
markmanship or superior skill to bring down forty of those
birds in a single evening. That number we took into camp.
In quick time we had turkey roasted, turkey grilled, turkey
broiled ; and never have I since eaten any turkey so well flavored,
so juicy and rich, as that fattened upon the wild plums of the
Republican Valley in the year 1861.
At last, surfeited with hunting and its successes, we set out
on our return to Fort Kearny. When about half way across the
divide, a sergeant, one of the most experienced soldiers and
plainsmen of the party, declared that he saw a small curl of
smoke in the hazy distance and a little to the west and south
of us. To my untrained eye the smoke was at flrst invisible, but
with a field glass I ultimately discerned a delicate little blue
thread hanging in the sky, which the soldiers pronounced smoke
ascending from an Indian camp. Readjusting the glasses I soon
made out to see three Indians stretched by the fire seemingly
asleep, while two were sitting by the embers apparently cooking,
eating and drinking. Very soon, however, the two feasters
espied our wagons and party. Immediately they came running
on foot to meet us; the other three, awaking, followed them;
speedily they were in our midst. They proved, however, to be
peaceful Pawnees. Mr. John Heth spoke the language of that
tribe and I shall never forget the coolness with which these
representatives of that nomadic race informed him that Mrs.
Heth and his Little two-years-of-age daughter, Minnie, were in
good health in their wigwam at Fort Kearny ; they were sure of
it because they had looked into the window of the Heth home the
day before and saw them eating and drinking their noonday
meal.
These Indians then expressed a wish for some turkey feathers.
They were told to help themselves. Immediately they pulled
out a vast number of the large feathers of the wings and tails
and decorated their own heads with them. The leader of the
aboriginal expedition, in conversation with Mr. Heth, informed
him that although they were on foot they carried the lariats
228 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
which we saw hanging from their arms for the purpose of hitch-
ing onto and annexing some Cheyenne ponies which they were
going south to steal. They walked away from home, but intend-
ed to ride back. The barbaric commander in charge of this
larcenous expedition was named "The Fox," and when ques-
tioned by Mr. Heth as to the danger of the enterprise, and in-
formed that he might probably lose his life and get no ponies at
all, Captain Pox smiled and said grimly that he knew he should
ride back to the Pawnee village on the Loup the owner of good
horses; that only a year or two before that time he had been
alone down into the Cheyenne village and got a great many
horses safely out and up onto the Loup fork among the Pawnees
without losing a single one. "The Fox" admitted, however,
that even in an expedition so successful as the one which he
recalled there were a great many courage-testing inconveniencea
and annoyances. But he dwelt particularly upon the fact that
the Cheyennes always kept their ponies in a corral which was
in the very center of their village. The huts, habitations, tipis,
and wigwams of the owners of the ponies were all constructed
around their communal corral in a sort of a circle, but "The
Fox" said that he nevertheless, in his individual excursion of
which he proudly boasted, crawled during the middle of the
night in among the ponies and was about to slip a lariat on the
bell-mare without her stirring, when she gave a little jump, and
the bell on her neck rang out pretty loudly. Then he laid down
in the center of the herd and kept still, very still, while the
horses walked over him and tramped upon him until he found
it very unpleasant. But very soon he saw and heard some of
the Cheyennes come out and look and walk about to see if any-
thing was wrong. Then he said he had to stay still and silent
under the horses' hoofs and make no noise, or die and surely be
scalped. At last, however, the Cheyennes, one after another,
all went back into their wigwams to sleep, and then he very
slowly and without a sound took the bell off from the mare, put
his lariat on her neck quietly, led her out and all the herd of
Cheyenne ponies followed. He never stopped until he was safe
up north of the Platte river and had all his equine spoils safe
in the valley of the Loup fork going towards the Pawnee village
where Genoa now stands.
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT 229
The Fox was an "expajisionist" and an annexationist out of
sympathy for the oppressed ponies of the Cheyennes.
"The Fox" declared that the number of horaes he made requis-
ition for at that time on the stables of the Cheyennes was three
hundred. At this statement some incredulity was shown by
Mr. Heth, myself, and some others present. Immediately "The
Fox" threw back his woolen blanket which was ornamented on
the inside with more than two hundred small decorative designs
of horses. Among the Pawnees, and likewise, if I remember
rightly, among the Otoes and Omahas, robes and blankets were
thus embellished and so made to pass current as real certificates
of a choice brand of character for their wearers. Each horse
depicted on the robe was notice that the owner and wearer had
stolen such horse. Finally, after expressions of friendship and
good will, the expedition in charge of "The Fox" bade us
adieu and briskly walked southward on their mission for getting
horses away from their traditional enemies.
It is perhaps worth while to mention that, it being in the au-
tumn of the year, all these Indians were carefully and deftly
arrayed in autumn-colored costumes. Their blankets, head-gear
and everything else were the color of dead and dried prairie
grass. This disguise was for the purpose of making themselves
as nearly indistinguishable as possible on the brown surface of
the far-stretching plains. For then the weeds and grasses had
all been bleached by the fall frosts. We were given an exhibi-
tion of the nearly perfect invisibleness of "The Fox" by his
taking a position near a badger hole around which a lot of tall
weeds had grovm upon the prairie, and really the almost exact
similitude of coloring which he had cunningly reproduced in his
raiment made him even at a short distance indistinguishable
among the faded weeds and grasses by which he was surrounded.
In due time we reached Fort Kearny and after a pleasant
and most agreeable visit with Mr. Heth and his family, Colonel
Alexander and Lieutenant Bush, I pushed on alone for the
Missouri river, by the North Platte route, bringing home with
me two or three turkeys and a quarter of buffalo meat.
About the second evening, as I remember it, I arrived at the
agency of the four bands of the Pawnee on the Loup fork of
the Platte river, near where the village of Genoa in Nance county
230 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
now stands. Judge Gillis of Pennsylvania was the U. S. gov-
ernment agent then in charge of that tribe, and Mr. AUis was
his interpreter. There I experienced the satisfaction of going
leisurely and observingly through the villages of the four bands
of Pawnees, which there made their habitation. The names of
the four confederate bands of Pawnee Indians were Grand
Pawnee, Wolf Pawnee, Republican Pawnee, and Tapage Pawnee.
At that time they all together numbered between four thousand
and five thousand.
Distinguished among them for fearlessness and impetuous
courage and constant success in war was an Indian who had been
bom with his left hand so shrunken and shriveled that it looked
like the contracted claw of a bird. He was celebrated among all
the tribes of the plains as ' ' Crooked Hand, the Fighter. ' ' Hear-
ing me expre^ a wish for making the acquaintance of this
famous warrior and scalp accumulator. Judge Gillis and Mr.
AlUs kindly volunteered to escort me to his domicile and form-
ally introduce me. We took the traU which lay across Beaver
creek up into the village. This village was composed of very
large, earthen, mound-like wigwams. From a distance they
looked Like a number of great kettles turned wrong side up on
the prairie. Finally we came to the entrance of the abode of
Crooked Hand. He was at home. I was presented to him by
the interpreter, Mr. Allis. Through him, addressing the tawny
hero who stood before me, I said :
It has come to my ears that you are and always have been a
very brave man in battle. Therefore I have made a long jour-
ney to see you and to shake the hand of a great warrior.
This seemed to suit his bellicose eminence and to appeal to his
barbaric vanity. Consequently I continued, saying: I hear
that you have skilfully killed a great many Sioux and that you
have kept the scalp of each warrior slain by you. If this be
true, I wish you would show me these trophies of your courage
and victories?
Immediately Crooked Hand reached under a sort of rude set-
tee and pulled out a very cheap traveling trunk, which was
locked. Then taking a string from around his neck he found
the key thereunto attached, inserted it in the lock, turned it,
and with gloating satisfaction threw back the lid of the trunk.
It is fair to state that, notwithstanding Mr. Crooked Hand's per-
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT 231
sonal adornments in the way of paint, earrings, and battle me-
mentoes, he was evidently not a man of much pei-sonal property,
for the trunk contained not one other portable thing except a
string of thirteen scalps. This he lifted out with his right hand
and held up before me as a connoisseur would exhibit a beautiful
cameo — with intense satisfaction and self-praise expressed in
his features.
The scalps were not large, averaging not much more in cir-
cumference than a silver dollar (before the crime of 1873).
Each scalp was big enough to firmly and gracefully retain the
scalplock which its original possessor had nourished. Each
scalp was neatly lined with flaming red flannel and encircled by
and stitched to a willow twig just as boys so stretch and pre-
serve squirrel skins. Then there was a strong twine which ran
through the center of each of the thirteen scalps leaving a space
of something like three or four inches between each two.
After looking at these ghastly certificates of prowess in In-
dian warfare I said to the possessor: "Do you still like to go
into fights with the Sioux ? " He replied hesitatingly :
"Yes, 1 go into the fights with the Sioux but I stay only until
I can kill one man, get his scalp and get out of the battle."
Then I asked: "Why do you do this way now, and so act
differently from the fighting plans of your earlier years when
you remained to the end of the conflict?" Instantly he replied
and gave me this aboriginal explanation :
' ' You see, my friend, I have only one life. To me death must
come only once. But I have taken thirteen lives. And now
when I go into battle there are thirteen chances of my being
killed to one of my coming out of the fight alive. ' '
This aboriginal application of the doctrine of chance is equally
as reasonable as some of the propositions relating to chances
found in "Hedges' Logic," which I studied in the regular col-
lege course. There is more excuse for a savage faith in chance
than can be made for the superstitious belief in it which is held
by some civilized people.
My last buffalo hunt was finished and its trophies and its
choicest memories safely stored for exhibition or reminiscence at
Arbor Lodge. More than thirty-seven years afterwards I am
permitted this evening by your indulgence and consideration to
attempt faintly to portray the country and its primitive condi-
232 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
tion at that time in that particular section of Nebraska which is
now Franklin county.
But in concluding this discursive and desultory narrative I
cannot refrain from referring to and briefly descanting on an-
other and an earlier and larger expedition into the valley of the
Republican which set out from Mexico in the year 1540 under
the command of Coronado.
That explorer was undoubtedly the first white man to visit Ne-
braska. In his report to the Spanish government is a descrip-
tion of buffalo which for graphic minuteness and correctness
has never been excelled. Thus it pictures them as they appeared
to him and his followers more than three hundred and fifty yeara
ago:
"These oxen are of the bigness and color of our bulls, but
their horns are not so great. They have a great bunch upon
their foreshoulders, and more hair upon their fore-part than on
their hinder-part; and it is like wool. They have, as it were, a
horse mane upon their back bone, and much hair, and very
long from the knees downward. They have great tufts of hair
hanging down their foreheads, and it seemeth they have beards,
because of the great store of hair hanging down at their chins
and throats. The males have very long tails, and a great knob
or flock at the end, so that in some respects they resemble the
lion, and in some other the camel. They push with their horns,
they run, they overtake and kill a horse when they are in their
rage and anger. Finally, it is a fierce beast of countenance and
form of body. The horses fled from them, either because of
their deformed shape, or because they had never seen them
before. Their masters [meaning no doubt the Indians] have no
other riches or substance; of them they eat, they drink, they
apparel, they shoe themselves; and of their hides they make
many things, as houses, shoes, apparel and robes ; of their bones
they make bodkins; of their sinews and hair, thread; of their
horns, maws and bladders, vessels; of their dung, fire; and of
their calf skins, budgets, wherein they draw and keep water.
To be short, they make so many things of them as they have
need of, or as may suffice them in the use of this life. ' '
It is perhaps a work of supererogation for me after the lapse
of three and a half centuries to endorse and verify the accuracy
of that word picture of the buffalo. A photograph of the great
MY LAST BUFFALO HUNT 233
terd which I rode into during my hunt could hardly better
convey to the mind the images of buffalo. The hundreds of
years intervening between my own excursion into the valley of
the Republican and the invasion of Coronado had neither im-
paired, improved, nor perceptibly changed either the buffalo or
the soil of that fertile section now comprising the county of
Franklin in the state of Nebraska. Of that immediate pro-
pinquity Coronado said: "The place I have reached is in the
fortieth degree of latitude. The earth is the best possible for aU
kinds of productions of Spain, for while it is very strong and
black, it is very well watered by brooks, springs and rivers. I
found prunes" [wild plums, no doubt, just as my party and the
wild turkeys were feasting upon in October, 1861] "like those
of Spain, some of which are black; also some excellent grapes
and mulberries."
And Jaramillo, who was with Coronado, says: "This coun-
try has a superb appearance, and such that I have not seen
better in all Spain, neither in Italy nor Prance, nor in any other
country where I have been in the service of your majesty. It
is not a country of mountains; there are only some hills, some
plains and some streams of very fine water. It satisfies me com-
pletely. I presiime that it is very fertile and favorable for the
cultivation of all kinds of fruits."
And this land whence the Coronado expedition upon foot re-
traced its march to Old Mexico, a distance, by the trail he made,
of 3,230 miles, was in latitude forty degrees and distant west-
ward from the Missouri about one hundred and forty miles.
Geographically, topographically, and in every other way, the de-
scription of Franklin and the neighborhood of Riverton in that
county.
Here then in Franklin county it is recorded that the last
horse belonging to Coronado and his band of precious-metal
hunters died. At that time all the horses on this continent had
been imported. The loss of this animal that day at that place
was like the loss today of a man-of-war for Spain in a great
naval conflict with the United States. It was discouraging and
overwhelming and resulted in the relinquishment of further ex-
ploration for the land of Quivera — the home of gold and silver
— and the return to Old Mexico. There was no use for saddles,
bridles and other equestrian trappings, for with no horse to
234 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
ride even stirrups were thrown away, and it has been the good
fortune of Nebraska to have them exhumed aft€r a sequestration
of more than three centuries.
And thus, after so many years of delay, I give you the story
of the first buifalo hunt and the last buffalo hunt in the Republi-
can Valley concerning which I am competent to make statement.
HOW THE FOUNDER OF ARBOR DAY CREATED THE
MOST FAMOUS WESTERN ESTATE
By Paul Moeton
"The memories that live and bloom in trees, that whisper of
the loved and lost in summer leaves, are as imperishable as the
seasons of the year — immortal as the love of a mother." — J.
Sterling Moeton.
I suppose the story of a successful pioneer will always interest
and encourage people. The narrative of a strong, far-sighted
man who makes something out of nothing seems to put heart
into the average worker. That is why I am telling the story of
how my father, J. Sterling Morton, and his young wife, set
their faces toward the West, one October day in 1854, and built
them a home on the prairies.
Arbor Lodge as it stands today, with its classic porticoes, its
gardens, and its arboretum, the present country home of my
brother, Mr. Joy Morton, is not the home that I remember as a
boy. That was a much more modest edifice. Yet even that
house was a palace compared with the first one, which was a
little log-cabin standing on the lonely prairie, exposed to bliz-
zards and Indians, and with scarcely a tree in sight.
My father was a young newspaper man in Detroit, only re-
cently out of college, when he took his bride, two years his
junior, out to the little-known frontier. Attracted by the in-
formation about the new country brought out by Douglas and
others in the Kansas-Nebraska debates in congress, he conceived
and acted on the idea that here were fortunes to be made. Tak-
ing such household goods as they could, they traveled to the
new land, making the last stage up the Missouri river by boat.
Nebraska at that time was the Indian's own country. There
were not over 1,500 white people in the entire state. All the
country west of the Missouri was called in the geographies the
Great American Desert, and it took a good deal of faith to be-
lieve that anything could be made to grow where annual fires
destroyed even the prairie grass and the fringes of cottonwoods
235
236 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
and scrub-oaks along the rivers. Today this section, within a
radius of some two hundred miles, includes perhaps the most
fertile soil in the world and has become a center of industry,
agriculture, and horticulture for the middle west. There was
then no political organization, no laws; men went about fully
armed. There were no roads and no bridges to speak of in the
entire state; it was "waste land."
This was part of the land of the Louisiana Purchase, and my
father bought a quarter section (160 acres) from the man who
preempted it from the government. The price paid was $1.25
an acre. Today the estate comprises about 1,000 acres, and the
land is readily saleable at a hundred times this price.
On the spot where Arbor Lodge now stands, my father built
his first log-cabin. This was soon replaced by a modest frame
house; there was not then another frame house between it and
the Rocky Mountains, six hundred miles away. On the same
place two succeeding houses were built by my father, the present,
and fifth. Arbor Lodge having been built by his sons after his
death. My father called these first four houses, "seed, bud,
blossom, and fruit."
The first winter was a mild one, fortunately, but there were
plenty of hardships for the young people. There were no very
near neighbors, the village of Kearny Heights, now Nebraska
City, being then over two miles away. The Indians formed
the greatest danger. I can remember a day in my boyhood
when we had everything packed up, ready to flee across the
Missouri to Iowa from the murderous Pawnees and Cheyennes,
who, fortunately, did not come that time. A part of that first
winter my father and mother spent ia Bellevue.
When spring came they set about building their home. Later
on they had young trees sent to them from the East, including
some excellent varieties of apples, peaches, cherries, pears, etc.
Things grew fast; it was only the prairie fires that had kept
the land a desert so long, and year by year these fires had en-
riched the soil.
The farm was located on the Overland trail, the favorite
route to Pike's Peak and the El Dorado. Many of the Mormon
emigrants crossed the river at that place. I can remember the
big trains of ox and mule teams passing the house.
MOST FAMOUS WESTERN ESTATE 237
My father's interests were always inseparably joined with
those of the community; he was in public life from the start,
and Nebraska's fortunes were his. His neighbors all had the
same experiences, and many a farmer who started with nothing
is now wealthy. The farmers had to bring in from Missouri
and Iowa all the food for themselves and their horses and cattle
the first year. They were living on faith. During the first
spring and summer the anxiety was great, but they were re-
warded by a good harvest in the fall. The success of that har-
vest settled the Nebraska question forever. It was a land that
could support its inhabitants.
But the end was not yet. The "get-rich-quiek" fever struck
the community. Immigration was over-stimulated, and town
lots were manufactured at a great rate. In a few months they
increased in price from $300 to $3,000 apiece. Banks were
created and money was made plenty by legislation. My father
never caught this fever, being always a sound-money man and
believing in wealth based on the soil.
At the end of the second summer the crop of town lots and
Nebraska bank-notes was greater than the crop of com. But
the lesson was not learned until the panic of 1857 drove out
the speculators and left the farmers in possession of the terri-
tory. With the spring of 1858 sanity came to rule once more,
and there was less bank making and more prairie breaking.
The citizens had learned that agriculture was to be the salva-
tion of the new country. In 1857, two dollars a bushel had been
paid for imported com, but in 1859 the same steamers that had
brought it in bore thousands of bushels south at forty cents a
bushel, bringing more money into the territory than all the
sales of town lots for a year.
The first teiTitorial fair was held in Nebraska City in 1859,
and on that occasion my father made a speech in which he
reviewed the history of the new territory up to that time. I
speak of these things because my father was always a man of
public interests, and his fortunes were wrapped up in those of
the territory. His hardships came when the community went
era^y, and his fortune grew when sanity was once more restored.
I know of nothing that better illustrates my father's private
character than an editorial which he wrote and published in
238 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
The Conservative a short time before the untimely death of my
brother Carl. The fact that both the author and the two loved
ones of whom he so tenderly wrote have passed to the Great
Beyond, imparts to this beautiful passage a most exquisite
pathos :
"It was a bright, balmy morning in April more than a quai*-
ter of a century ago. The sun was nursing the young grass
into verdure, and the prairie was just beginning to put off its
winter coat of somber colorings. Tranquil skies and morning
mists were redolent at Arbor Lodge of the coming resurrection
of the foliage and flowers that died the autumn before. All
about the cottage home there was hope and peace; and every-
where the signs of woman's watchful love and tidy care, when,
suddenly, toned with affectionate solicitude, rang out: 'Carl,
Carl!' but no answer came. Downstairs, upstairs, at the bam,
even in the well, everywhere, the mother's voice called anxious-
ly, again and again. But the silence, menacing and frighten-
ing, was unbroken by an answer from the lost boy. At last,
however, he was found behind a smokehouse, busily digging
in the ground with a small spade, though only five years of age,
and he said : ' I 'm too busy to talk. I 'm planting an orchard, '
and sure enough, he had set out a seedling apple tree, a small
Cottonwood, and a little elm.
"The delighted mother clasped him in her arms, kissed him,
and said: 'This orchard must not be destroyed.'
' ' And so now
" 'I hear the muffled tramp of years
Come stealing up the slopes of Time ;
They bear a train of smiles and tears
Of burning hopes and dreams sublime. '
"The child's orchard is more than thirty years of age. The
Cottonwood is a giant now, and its vibrant foliage talks, sum-
mer after summer, in the evening breeze with humanlike voice,
and tells its life story to the graceful, swaying elm near by,
while the gnarled and scrubby little apple tree, shaped, as to
its head, like a despondent toadstool, stands in dual shade, and
bears small sweet apples, year after year, in all humility. But
that orchard must not be destroyed. It was established by the
youngest treeplanter who ever planted in this tree planter's
MOST FAMOUS WESTERN ESTATE 239
state, and for his sake and the memory of the sweet soul who
nursed and loved him, it lives and grows, one cottonwood, one
apple tree, one elm.
' ' ' But 0, for the touch of a vanished hand.
And the sound of a voice that is still. '
"The memories that live and bloom in trees, that whisper of
the loved and lost in summer leaves, are as imperishable as the
seasons of the year — immortal as the love of a mother. ' '
EARLY REMINISCENCES OF NEBRASKA CITY
By Ellen Kinney "Wake
Social Aspects
As a girl graduate I came to Nebraska City from Virginia,
at an early day. It seemed to me that I was leaving everything
attractive socially and intellectually, behind me, but I was mis-
taken. On arriving here, I expected to see quite a town, was
disappointed, for two large brick hotels, and a few scattered
houses comprised the place. Among my first acquaintances was
the family of Grovernor Black, consisting of his daughter about
my own age, his wife, and himself. He was not only bright and
clever, but a wit as well, and famous as a story-teller. Alas a
sad fate awaited him. For leaving here to take command of a
Pennsylvania regiment, he was killed early in the civil war.
Those were freighting days and Russell, Majors and "Waddell,
government freighters, made this their headquarters. Alex-
ander Majors brought his family here adding much socially to
the town. Major Martin, an army officer, was stationed here.
He was a charming gentleman and had a lovely wife. Dancing
was the principal amusement Muth the young people. Informal
dances at private homes and occasionally on a steamboat when
it arrived, brilliantly lighted and having a band of music on
board. At the ' ' Outfit " as it was called, where the supplies for
the freighting company were kept, dwelt a family. Raisin by
name, who were exceedingly hospitable, not only entertaining
frequently, but often sending an ambulance for their guests.
At these parties no round dancing was indulged in, just simple
quadrilles and the lancers. Mr. and Mrs. J. Sterling Morton,
who lived on a country place, a short distance from town, which
has since become widely known as Arbor Lodge, were among the
most active entertainers, dispensing that delightful hospitality
for which in later times they were so well known.
And so we lived without railroads, without telephones, auto-
mobiles, or theaters. But I believe that our social enjoyment
was greater than it is now. Instead of railroads, we had steam-
Oregon Trail Monument, located at the
POINT WHERE THE UNE BETWEEN JePFERSON
AND Gage Counties iNTERgBCTs the Kansas-
Nebraska State Line
Dedicated May 12, 1914. Cost $350. Trail crosses state
line 1,986 feet east, and crosses Jefferson-Gage county
line 2,286 feet nortli of tliis point. Erected by the citi-
zens of Gage and Jefferson counties, Nebraska, Wash-
ington county, Kansas, and Elizabetli Montague Chapter,
Daughters of the American Revolution
REMINISCENCES OF NEBRASKA CITY 241
boats arriving almost daily from St. Louis, St. Joseph, and other
towns. In carriages we drove to Omaha and back, and the
social intercourse of the two towns was much greater than it is
now.
Amateur theatricals took the place of the theater, and often
brilliant, undreamed of talent was shown. Literature also was
not neglected, many highly educated men and women were
among our pioneers and literary societies were a prominent part
of our social life. "We played chess in those days, but not cards.
This alone might be taken as an index of how much less frivol-
ous that day was than the present.
In 1860 Bishop Talbot aiTived here from Indianapolis and
made this his home, adding greatly socially and intellectually
to the life of the community. In his family was the Rev. Isaac
Hager, beloved and revered by all who knew him, a most thor-
ough musician, as well as a fine preacher.
Remembering old times we sometimes ask ourselves, where
now are the men and women, equal to the ones we knew in those
days, certainly there are none superior to them, in intellect,
manners, wit, and true nobility.
"Oh brave hearts journeyed to the west.
When this old town was new!"
SOME PERSONAL INCIDENTS
By W. a. McAllister
My father and family came to Nebraska in 1858, living two
years at Genoa. At this time the government assigned what is
now Nance county, to the Pawnee Indians, as a reservation.
When the white settlers sought other homes our family located
eight miles east of Columbus, at McAllister's lake. Every fall
my father hired about sixty squaws to husk out his crop of com.
Only one buck ever came to work, and he was always known as
"Squaw Charlie" after that. He spoke English quite well.
They were slow workers, husking about twenty bushels per day.
They were very gluttonous at meals, eating much bread, with
meat soup containing potatoes and other vegetables, cooked in
large twenty gallon camp kettles. This was supplemented by
watermelons by the wagonJoad. It required a week or ten days
to harvest the corn crop. The Indians were very thievish, steal-
ing almost as much as their wages amounted to. During these
years I often witnessed their "Medicine Dances."
When fifteen years old I enlisted in Company B, Second Ne-
braska Cavalry, and went to Fort Kearny. Our company re-
lieved the Tenth Infantry, which went to the front. In less
than twenty days this company was nearly annihilated at the
battle of Fredericksburg.
While at the fort a buffalo hunt was organized by the oflBcers,
and I had an opportunity to go. Our party went south to the
valley of the Republican. The first night We camped at the
head of the Big Blue, and the second day I noticed south of us,
about eight miles distant, a dark line along the horizon extending
as far east and west as the eye could reach. I inquired what it
was and an old hunter replied ' ' buffaloes. ' ' I could not believe
him, but in a few hours found he was right, for we were sur-
rounded by millions of them. They were hurrying to the east
with a roaring like distant thunder. Our sportsmen moved in a
body through the herd looking for calves, not caring to carry
back the meat of the old specimens. Strange to say this tre-
SOME PERSONAL INCIDENTS 243
mendous herd seemed to be composed of males, for the cows
were still on the Oklahoma ranges caring for their calves, until
strong enough to tramp north again. We noticed an old fellow
making good progress on three legs, one foot having been injured.
One of the party wished to dispose of him, but his wooly fore-
head covered with sand, turned every bullet. Finally the hunt-
er asked me to attract his attention, while he placed a bullet in
his heart. In doing this, he almost succeeded in goring my pony,
but I turned a second too quickly for him. I was near enough
to see the fire flashing from his angry eyes. In a few minutes
he fell with a thud.
Several years after the war being over, I worked for the
Union Pacific railroad company. At Kearney, in 1869, we met
the Buck sui-veying party, who had come west to lay out, for the
government, the lands of the Republican Valley. In this com-
pany was a young maiL from Pontiac, Illinois, named Harry Mc-
Gregor. He left a home of plenty to hunt buffalo and Indians,
but found among other privations, he could not have all the
sugar he wished, so at Kearney he decided to leave the party
and work with us. This decision saved his life, for the rest of
the surveyors, about ten in all, after starting south next morning,
were never seen again. They were surprised and killed by the
Indians. Their skeletons were found several years later, bleach-
ing on the Nebraska prairie.
MAJOR NORTH'S BUFFALO HUNT
By Minnie Freeman Penny
A party under the direction of Major Frank North set out
with six wagon teams and four buffalo horses on November 13,
1871, to engage in a buffalo hunt. The other men were Luther
North, C. Stanley, Hopkins Brown, Charles Freeman, W. E.
Freeman, W. E. Freeman, Jr., and Messrs. Bonesteel, Wasson,
and Cook. They camped the first night at James Gushing 's
ranch, eighteen miles out; the second night at Jason Parker's
home at Lone Tree, now Central City, and the third night ar-
rived at Grand Island. On the way to Grand Island one of the
party accidentally started a prairie fire six miles east of Grand
Island. A hard fight was made and the flames subdued just
in time to save a settler's stable.
Leaving Grand Island on the sixteenth they crossed the Platte
river and camped on the West Blue. From this point in the
journey the party suffered incredible hardships until their re-
turn.
About midnight the wind changed to the north, bringing rain
and sleet, and inside of an hour a blizzard was raging on the
open prairie. The horses were covered with snow and ice and
there was no fuel for the fires. The men went out as far as
they dared to go for wood, being unsuccessful. It was decided
to try to follow the Indian trail south — made by the Pawnee
scouts under Major North. Little progress could be made and
they soon ' ' struck camp ' ' near some willows that afforded a little
protection to their horses and a ' ' windbreak ' ' was made for man
and beast. This camp was at the head of the Big Sandy, called
by this party the "Big Smoky" for the men suffered agonies
from the smoke in the little tipi.
For two days the storm continued in all its terrible force.
The vrind blew and the air was so full of snow that it was blind-
ing. The cold was intense. The men finally determined to find
some habitation at any price and in groups of two and three
left camp following the creek where they were sure some one
244
MAJOR NORTH'S BUFFALO HUNT 245
had settled. A sod house was found occupied by two English
families who received the party most hospitably. Charles Free-
man, older than the other men of the party, suffered a collapse
and remained at this home. During the night the storm abated
and next morning, finding all the ravines choked with heavy
snow drifts, it was decided by vote to abandon the hunt. They
dug out their belongings from under many feet of snow, sold
their corn to the English families to lighten their load and start-
ed back. The journey home was full of accidents, bad roads,
and drifted ravines. Reaching the Union Pacific railroad at
Grand Island Major North and Mr. Bonesteel returned to Col-
umbus by rail, also Mr. Stanley from Lone Tree. The rest of
the party returned by team, arriving on November 24.
Major North admitted that of all his experiences on the prai-
rie— not excepting his years with the Pawnee scouts — this
"beat them all" as hazardous and perplexing.
The foregoing is taken from my father's diary.
PIONEER LIFE
By Mrs. James 6. Reeder
It is almost impossible for people of the present day to realize
the hardships and privations that the first settlers in Nebraska
underwent. Imagine coming to a place where there was nothing
but what you had brought with you in wagons. Add to the dis-
comfort of being without things which in your former home had
seemed necessities, the pests which abound in a new country:
the rattlesnake, the coyote, the skunk, the weasel, and last — but
not least — the flea.
My father, Samuel C. Smith, held the post of "trader" for
the Pawnee Indians under Major Wheeler in 1865-66. We lived
in a house provided by the government, near the Indian school
at Genoa, or "The Reservation," as it was commonly called. I
was only a few weeks old, and in order to keep me away from
the fleas, a torture to everyone, they kept me in a shallow basket
of Indian weave, suspended from the ceiling by broad bands of
webbing, far enough from the floor and wall to insure safety.
I have heard my mother tell of how the Indians would walk
right into the house without knocking, or press their faces
against a window and peer in. They were usually respectful;
they simply knew no better. Sometimes in cold weather three or
four big men would walk into the kitchen and insist upon stay-
ing by the fire, and mother would have hard work to drive them
out.
The next year my father moved his family to a homestead two
miles east of Genoa where he had built a large log house and
stables surrounded by a high tight fence, which was built for
protection against the unfriendly Indians who frequently came
to make war on the Pawnees. The government at times kept a
company of soldiers stationed just north of us, and when there
would be an "Indian scare," the officers' wives as well as our
few neighbors would come to our place for safety. Major Noyes
was at one time stationed there. Firearms of all sorts were al-
246
PIONEER LIFE 247
ways kept handy, and my mother could use them as skilfully
as my father.
One night my father's barn was robbed of eight horses by the
Sioux and the same band took ten head from Mr. 6en-ard, who
lived four miles east of us. E. A. Gerrard, Luther North, and
my father followed their trail to the Missouri river opposite
Yankton, South Dakota, and did not see a white man while they
were gone. They did not recover the horses, but twenty years
after the government paid the original cost of the horses with-
out interest. The loss of these horses and the accidental death
of a brother of mine so discouraged my father that he moved to
Columbus in 1870.
One of the delights of my childhood were the nights in early
autumn when all the neighborhood would go out to burn the
grass from the prairie north of us for protection against "prairie
fires, ' ' as gi'eat a foe as was the unfriendly Indian of a few years
before.
In the sujnmer of 1874, which in Nebraska history is known
as "the grasshopper year," my grandmother, Mrs. William
Boone, accompanied by her daughter, Mrs. Mary Hemphill, and
granddaughter, Ada Hemphill, came to make us a visit. For
their entertainment we drove in a three-seated platform spring
wagon or carryall to see the Indians in their village near Genoa.
Their lodges were made of earth in a circular form with a long
narrow entrance extending out like the handle of a frying pan.
As we neared the village we came upon an ordinaiy looking In-
dian walking in the road, and to our surprise my father greeted
him very cordially and introduced him to us. It was Petalesharo,
chief of the Pawnees, but without the feathers and war-paint
that I imagined a chief would always wear. He invited us to
his lodge and we drove to the entrance, but my grandmother
and aunt could not be persuaded to leave the siirrey. My cousin,
being more venturesome, started in with my father, but had
gone only a few steps when she gathered up her skirts and cried,
' ' Oh, look at the fleas ! Just see them hop ! ' ' and came running
back to the rig, assuring us she had seen enough. The Indians
must have taken the fleas with them when they moved to Okla-
homa, for we seldom see one now.
EARLY DAYS IN POLK COUNTY
By Cakmar McCune
In the early history of the county, county warrants were
thicker than the leaves on the trees (for trees were scarce then),
and of money in the pockets of most people there was none.
Those were the days when that genial plutocrat, William H.
Waters, relieved the necessities of the needy by buying up
county warrants for seventy-five cents on the dollar. Don't
understand this as a reflection on the benevolent intentions of
Mr. Waters, for he paid as high a price as anybody else offered ;
I mention it only to illustrate the financial condition of the
people and the body politic.
Henry Mahan was postmaster and general merchant. The
combined postoffice and store which, with a blacksmith shop, con-
stituted the business part of the town of Osceola, was located on
the west side of the square. It was a one and one-half story
frame and on the second floor was The Homesteader (now the
Osceola Record). Here H. T. Arnold, W. F. Kimmel, Frank
Burgess, the writer, and Stephen Fleharty exercised their gray
matter by grinding out of their exuberant and sometimes lurid
imaginations original local items and weighty editorials. In
those days if a top buggy was seen out on the open, treeless
prairie, the entire business population turned out to watch it and
soon there were bets as to whether it came from Columbus or
Seward, for then there was not a top buggy in Polk county. The
first drug store was opened by John Beltzer, a country black-
smith who suddenly blossomed from the anvil into a full-fledged
pharmacist. Doctor Stone compounded the important prescrip-
tions for a while.
I need not try to describe the grasshopper raid of 1874 for
the old-timers remember it and I could not picture the tragedy
so that others could see it. To see the sun 's rays dimmed by the
flying agents of destruction; to witness the disappearance of
every vestige of green vegetation — the result of a year's labor,
which was to most of the inhabitants the only resource against
EAELY DAYS IN POLK COUNTY 249
actual want, to see this I say, one must live through it. Many
of the early settlers were young people newly married, who had
left their homes in the East with all their earthly possessions in
a covered wagon, or "prairie schooner" as it was called, and
making the trip overland, had landed with barely enough money
to exist until the first crop was harvested. Added to the loss
and privation entailed by the visitation of the winged host was
the constant dread that the next season would bring a like
scourge.
On Sunday afternoon, April 13, 1873, I left the farm home
of James Bell in Valley precinct for Columbus, expecting to
take the train there Monday morning for Omaha. The season
was well advanced, the treeless prairie being covered with ver-
dure. It was a balmy sunshiny spring day, as nearly ideal as
even Nebraska can produce.
As I left the Clother hotel that evening to attend the Congre-
gational church I noticed that the clouds were banking heavily
in the northwest. There was a roll of distant thunder, a flash
of lightning, and a series of gentle spring showers followed and
it was raining when I went to bed at my hotel. Next morning
when I looked out of my window I could not see half-way across
the street. The wind was blowing a gale, which drove large
masses of large, heavy snow-flakes southward. Already where
obstructions were met the huge drifts were forming. This con-
tinued without cessation of either snow or wind all day Monday
and until late Tuesday night. Wednesday about noon the snow
plow came, followed by the Monday train, which I boarded for
Omaha. As the train neared Fremont I could see the green
knolls peeping up through the snow, and at Omaha the snow
had disappeared. There they had had mainly rain instead of
snow. I may say that the storm area was not over two hundred
miles wide with Clarks as about the center, the volume gradu-
ally diminishing each way from that point. It should be borne
in mind that the farmers raised mainly spring wheat and oats.
These grains had been sown several weeks before the storm and
were all up, but the storm did not injure them in the least.
On leaving Omaha a few days later I went to Grand Island.
At Gardner's Siding, between Columbus and Clarks, a creek
passed under the track. This had filled bank high with snow
which now melting, formed a lake. The track being bad the
250 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
train ran so slowly that I had time to count fifty floating car-
casses of cattle upon the surface of the water. This was the
fate of many thousands of head of stock.
Nobody dared to venture out into that storm for no human
being could face it and live. The great flakes driven by a fifty-
mile gale would soon plaster shut eyes, nose and mouth — in
fact, so swift was the gale that no headway could be made
against it.
In those days merchants hauled their goods from Columbus or
Seward and all the grain marketed went to the same points.
Wheat only was hauled, corn being used for feed or fuel.
A trip to Columbus and return the same day meant something.
A start while the stars still twinkled; the mercury ten, twenty,
or even thirty degrees below, was not a pleasure trip, to the
driver on a load of wheat. But the driver was soon compelled
to drop from the seat, and trudge along slapping his hands and
arms against his body to keep from freezing. Leaving home at
three or four o'clock in the morning he w-as lucky if he got
home again, half frozen and very weary, several hours after
dark. Speaking of exposure to wintry blasts, reminds me of a
trip on foot I made shortly after my arrival in Polk county.
December 24, 1872, I started to walk from the Milsap neighbor-
hood in Hamilton county, several miles west of where Polk now
stands, to the home of William Stevens, near the schoolhouse
of District No. 5. It was a clear, bitter cold morning, the wind
blowing strongly from the northwest, the ground coated with a
hard crust of snow. I kept my bearings as best I could, for it
should be remembered that there were no roads or landmarks
and I was traveling purely by guess. Along about mid-day I
stumbled upon a little dugout, somewhere north of where
Stromsburg now stands — the first house I had seen. On enter-
ing I found a young couple who smiled me a welcome, which was
the best they could do, for, as I sa.w from the inscriptions on a
couple of boxes, they were recent arrivals from Sweden. The
young lady gave me some coffee and rusks, and I am bound to
say that I never tasted better food than that coffee and those
msks. I did not see another house until I reached the bluffs,
where, about sunset, I was gladdened by the sight of the Stevens
house in the valley, a couple of miles distant. When I finally
EARLY DAYS IN POLK COUNTY 251
reached this hospitable home the fingers of both hands were
frozen and my nose and ears badly frosted.
In the early days we traveled from point to point by the
nearest and most direct route, for while the land was being rap-
idly taJjen up, there were no section line roads. Whenever the
contour of the land permitted, we angled, being cai*eful to avoid
the patches of cultivated land. There were no trees, no fences,
and very few buildings, so, on the level prairie, nothing ob-
structed the view as far as the eye could carry. The sod houses
and stables were a godsend, for lumber was very expensive and
most of the settlers brought with them lean purses. It required
no high-priced, skilled labor to build a "soddy," and properly
built they were quite comfortable.
When I grow reminiscent and allow my mind to go back to
those pioneer days, the span of time between then and now seems
very brief, but when I think longer and compare the then with
the no-w, it seems as though that sod house-treeless-ox driving
period must have been at least one hundred years ago. It is a
far cry from the ox team to the automobile.
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES
By Mrs. Thybza Reavis Roy
In March, 1865, my husband, George Roy, and I started from
our home in Avon, Illinois, to Nebraska territory. The railroad
extended to St. Joseph, Missouri. There they told us we would
have to take a steamboat up the Missouri river to Rulo, forty
miles from St. Joseph. We took passage on a small steamboat,
but the ice was breaking up and the boat ran only four miles up
the river. They said it was too dangerous to go farther so told
us we would have to go back or land and get some one to drive
us to Rulo, or the Missouri side of the river across from Rulo.
We decided to land, and hired a man to drive us across country
in an old wagon. It was very cold and when we reached the
place where we would have to cross the Missouri, the ice was
ninning in immense blocks. It was sunset, we were forty miles
from a house on that side of the river. There was a man on
the other side of the river in a small skiff. Mr. Roy waved to
him and he crossed and took us in. Every moment it seemed
those cakes of ice would crush the little skiff, but the man was
an expert dodger and after a perilous ride he let us off at Rulo.
By that time it was dark. We went to a roughly boarded up
shanty they called a tavern. It snowed that night and the snow
beat in on our bed. The next morning we hired a man to take
us to Falls City, ten miles from Rulo. Palls City was a hamlet
of scarcely three hundred souls. There was a log cabin on the
square; one tiny schoolhouse, used for school, Sunday school,
and church. As far as the eye could reach, it was virgin prairie.
There was very little rain for two years after we came. All
provisions, grain, and lumber were shipped on boats to Rulo.
There was only an Indian trail between Rulo and Palls City.
Everything was hauled over that trail.
After the drouth came the grasshoppers, and for two years
they took all we had. The cattle barely lived grazing in the
Nemeha valley. All grain was shipped in from Missouri.
The people had no amusements in the winter. In the summer
252
Mrs. Charles Oliver Norton
Tenth State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES 253
they had picnics and a Methodist camp-meeting, on the Muddy
river north of Falls City.
Over the Nemaha river two and one-half miles southwest of
Falls City, on a high hill above the falls from which the town
was named, was an Indian village. The Sac and Foxes and
Iowa Indiana occupied the village. Each spring and fall they
went visiting other tribes, or other tribes visited them. They
would march through the one street of Falls City with their
ponies in single file. The tipi poles were strapped on each side
of the ponies and their belongings and presents, for the tribe
they were going to visit, piled on the poles. The men, women,
and children walked beside the ponies, and the dogs brought up
the rear. Sometimes, when the Indians had visitors, they would
have a war-dance at night and the white people would go out to
view it. Their bright fires, their scouts bringing in the news of
hostile Indians in sight, and the hurried preparations to meet
them, were quite exciting. The Indians were great beggars, and
not very honest. "We had to keep things under lock and key.
They would walk right into the houses and say "Eat!" The
women were all afraid of them and would give them provisions.
If there was any food left after they had finished their eating,
they would take it away with them.
Their burying-ground was very near the village. They buried
their dead with all accoutrements, in a sitting posture in a grave
about five feet deep, without covering.
The Indians cultivated small patches of land and raised com,
beans, pumpkins, etc. A man named Fisher now owns the land
on which the Indians lived when I reached the country.
The people were very sociable. It was a healthy country, and
we had health if very little else. We were young and the hard-
ships did not seem so great as they do in looking backward fifty
years.
Note — Thyrza Reavis Roy was born August 7, 1834, in Cass
county, Illinois, the daughter of Isham Reavis and Mahala Beck
Reavis. Her great-grandfather, Isham Reavis, fought in the
war of the Revolution. Her grandfather, Charles Reavis, and
her own father, Isham Reavis, fought in the war of 1812. She
is a real daughter of the war of 1812. She is a member of the
U. S. Daughters of 1812, a member of the Deborah Avery Chap-
ter D. A. R. of Lincoln, and a member of the Territorial Pio-
neers Association of Nebraska. Her husband, George Roy, died
at Falls City March 2, 1903.
TWO SEWARD COUNTY CELEBRATIONS
By Mrs. S. C. Langwobthy
I recall one reminiscence of my early life in Nebraska which
occurred in 1876, when we first located in Seward. We could
have gone no ftirther, even had we wished, as Seward was then
the terminus of the Billings line of the Burlington railroad.
We soon learned that a county celebration was to be held on
the fourth of July, and I naturally felt a great curiosity to know
how a crowd of people would look to whom we had been sending
boxes of clothing and bedding in response to appeals from the
grasshopper sufferers. My surprise cannot be imagined when I
saw people clothed as well as elsewhere and with baskets filled
■v^ath an abundance of good things for a picnic dinner.
The same pretty grove in which this gathering occurred thirty-
nine years ago is now our beautiful city park, where during the
summer of 1914 our commercial club gave an old-time barbecue
costing the members twelve hundred dollars. They secured the
state band and fine speakere, and served a bounteous dinner to
about fifteen thousand people. Everything was free to all who
came, and a happier crowd can not be imagined. I speak of this
because in the years to come it will be a pleasant reminiscence to
many who may have been present.
Note — Elizabeth C. (Bennett) Langworthy, fourth state re-
gent of the Nebraska Society D. A. R., is a daughter of Jacob
and Caroline (Valentine) Bennett. Her paternal grandfather
was also Jacob Bennett, a soldier in the Revolutionary war. He
was taken prisoner and held in an English ship off the coast of
Quebec for some time. Mrs. Langworthy was bom in Orleans
county. New York, in 1837. The family moved to Wisconsin in
1849, and the daughter finished her education at Hamline Uni-
versity, then located at Red Wing, Minnesota. In 1858 she was
married to Stephen C. Langworthy, and in 1876 became a resi-
dent of Seward, Nebraska. Mr. Langworthy died March 3, 1904.
Mrs. Langworthy has been active and prominent in club work,
and is widely known. She served for five years as a member of
the school board at Seward, and organized the History and Art
Club of Seward of which she was president for several years.
She was the first secretary of the State Federation of Woman's
Clubs, and was elected president in 1898. Mre. Langworthy is
the mother of six children.
254
SEWARD COUNTY REMINISCENCES
Compiled by Margaret Holmes Chapter D. A. R.
Seward county shared with, other counties all of the privations
and experiences of pioneer life, though it seems to have had less
trouble with hostile Indians than many localities in the state.
The struggles of pioneer settlers in the same country must
necessarily be similar, though of course differing in detail. The
first settlers deemed it important to locate on a stream where
firewood could be obtained, and they were subject to high waters,
prairie fires, constant fear of the Indian, and lack of provisions.
At one time the little band of settlers near the present site of
Seward was reduced to one pan of corn, though they were not
quite as reduced as their historic Pilgrim forefathers, when a
load of provisions arrived that had been storm-bound.
Reminiscences are best at first hand, and the following lettei-s,
taken from the Eistory of Seward County by W. W. Cox, re-
count some of the incidents of early pioneer life by those who
really lived it.
Mrs. Sarah P. Andei-son writes as follows:
"At the time of the great Indian scare of 1864, my father's
family was one of the families which the Nebraska City people
had heard were killed. It had been rumored throughout the
little settlement that there were bands of hostile Indians ap-
proaching, and that they were committing great depredations
as they went.
"One Sunday morning my uncle and Thomas Shields started
down the river on a scouting expedition. After an all-day
search, just at nightfall, they came suddenly upon an Indian
camp. The men thought their time had come, but the redskins
were equally scared. There was no chance to back out, and they
resolved to know whether the Indians were friendly or hostile.
As they bravely approached the camp, the Indians began to
halloo, 'Heap good Omaha!' The men then concluded to camp
over night with them, and they partook of a real Indian supper.
265
256 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
The next morning they went home satisfied that there were no
hostile Indians in the country.
"A day or two after this, my father (William Imlay) and his
brothers were on upper Plum creek haying, when grandfather
Imlay became frightened and hastened to our house and said the
Indians were coming upon the settlement. He then hurried
home to protect his own family. About three o'clock in the
afternoon we saw a band of them approaching. They were
about where the B. & M. depot now stands. We were living
about eighty rods above the present iron bridge. My mother,
thinking to escape them, locked the cabin door, and took all the
children across the creek to the spring where she kept the milk.
To kill time, she commenced churning. Very soon, four Indiana
(great, big, ugly creatures) came riding up to the spring and
told mother that she was wanted over to the house. She said,
'No, I can't go; I am at work.' But they insisted in such a
menacing manner that she felt obliged to yield and go. They
said, ' Come, come, ' in a most determined manner. The children
all clinging to her, she started, and those great sneaking braves
guarded her by one riding on each side, one before, and one be-
hind. Poor mother and we four children had a slim show to
escape. They watched our every movement, step by step. When
we reached the cabin, there sat sixteen burly Indians in a circle
around the door. When we came up, they all arose and saluted
mother, then sat down again. They had a young Indian inter-
preter. As they thought they had the family all thoroughly
frightened, the young Indian began in good shape to tell just
what they wanted. They would like to have two cows, two sacks
of flour, and some meat. Mother saw that she must guard the
provisions with desperation, as they had cost such great effort,
having been hauled from the Missouri river. The Indians said,
'The Sioux are coming and will take all away, and we want
some. ' ' No, ' said mother, ' we will take our cattle and provisions
and go to Plattsmouth. ' 'But,' said the Indian, 'they will be
here tonight and you can't get away.' Mother at this point be-
gan to be as much angry as frightened. 'I will not give you
anything. You are lying to me. If the Sioux were so close,
you would all be running yourselves.' At this point another
brave, who had been pacing the yard, seeing mother grow so
warm, picked up our axe and marched straight up to her and
SEWARD COUNTY REMINISCENCES 257
threw it down at her feet. She picked it up and stood it beside
her. Mother said afterward that her every hair stood on end,
but knowing that Indians respect bravery, she resolved to show
no cowardice. We could all see that the whole river bend was
swarming with Indians. Mother said with emphasis, 'I now
want you to take your Indians and be gone at once. ' Then they
said, 'You are a brave scjuaw,' and the old chief motioned to his
braves and they marched off to camp. The next day our family
all went over to Plum creek and remained until things became
settled.
"The following winter father was at Omaha attending the
legislature; and I am sure that over a thousand Indians passed
our place during the winter. It required pluck to withstand the
thievish beggars. Sometimes they would sneak up and peep in
at the window. Then others would beg for hours to get into the
house.
"A great amount of snow had fallen, and shortly after father's
return home, a heavy winter rain inundated all the bottom lands.
We all came pretty near being drowned but succeeded in crawl-
ing out of the cabin at the rear window at midnight. Our only
refuge was a haystack, where we remained several daysi entirely
surrounded by water, with no possible means of escape. Mr.
Cox made several attempts to rescue us. First he tried to cross
the river in a molasses pan, and narrowly escaped being
drowned, as the wind was high and the stream filled with float-
ing ice. The next day he made a raft and tried to cross, but the
current was so rapid he could not manage it. It drifted against
a tree where the water was ten feet deep, and the jar threw him
off his balance, and the upper edge of the raft sank, so that the
rapid current caught the raft and turned it on edge against the
tree. Mr. Cox caught hold of a limb of the tree and saved him-
self from drowning. A desperate struggle ensued but he finally
kicked and stamped until the got the raft on top of the water
again, but it was wrong side up. We then gave up all hopes of
getting help until the water subsided. The fourth day, tall trees
were chopped by father on one side and by Mr. Cox on the other,
and their branches interlocked, and we made our escape to his
friendly cabin, where we found a kindly greeting, rest, food,
and fire."
258 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
The following from the pen of Addison E. Sheldon is recorded
in the same History of Seward County :
"My recollections of early Seward county life do not go back
as far as the author's. They begin with one wind-blown day
in September, 1869, when I, a small urchin from Minnesota,
crossed the Seward county line near Pleasant Dale on my way
with my mother and step-father (R. J. MeCall), to the new
home on the southeast quarter of section 18, town 9, range 2
east — about three miles southeast of the present Beaver Cross-
ing. Looked back upon now, through all the intervening years,
it seems to me there never was an autumn more supremely joy-
ous, a prairie more entrancing, a woodland belt more alluring,
a life more captivating than that which welcomed the new boy
to the frontier in the beautiful West Blue valley. The upland
'divides' as I remember them were entirely destitute of settle-
ment, and even along the streams, stretches of two, three, and
five miles lay between nearest neighbors.
"What has become of the Nebraska wind of those days? I
have sought it since far and wide in the Sand Hills and on the
table lands of western Nebraska — that wind which blew cease-
lessly, month after month, never pausing but to pucker its lips
for a stronger blast! Where are the seas of rosin- weed, with
their yellow summer parasols, which covered the prairie in those
days? I have sought them too, and along gravelly ridges or
some old ditch yet found a few degenerate descendants of the
old-time host.
' ' Mention of merely a few incidents seeming to hold the drama
and poetry of frontier life at that time: 'Pittsburgh, the city
of vision, at the junction of Walnut creek and the West Blue,
inhabited by a population of 20,000 people, -nath a glass factory,
a paper factory, a brick factory, oil wells, a peat factory, woolen
mills, junction of three railway lines, metropolis of the Blue
Valley.' All this and so much more that I dare not attempt to
picture it ; a real existence in the brain of Christopher Lezenby
in the years of 1871-72. What unwritten dramas sleep almost
forgotten in the memories of early settlers ! When Mr. Lezenby
began to build his metropolis with the assistance of Attorney
Boyd of Lincoln and a few other disinterested speculators, he
was the possessor of several hundred acres of land, some hun-
dreds of cattle, and other hundreds of hogs, and a fair, unmar-
SEWARD COUNTY REMINISCENCES 259
ried daughter. What pathetic memories of the old man, month
after month, surveying off his beautiful farm into city lots for
the new metropolis, while his cattle disappeared from the prai-
ries and his swine from the oak thickets along the Walnut ; with
sublime and childish simplicity repeating day after day the con-
fession of his faith that 'next week' work would begin; 'next
week' the foundation for the factories would be laid; 'next
week' the railway surveyors would set the grade stakes. And
this real rural tragedy lasted through several yeara, ending in
the loss of all his property, the marriage of his daughter to
Irwin Stall, and the wandering forth of the old man until he
died of a broken heart in California.
"One monument yet remains to mark the site and perpetuate
the memory of Pittsburgh, a flowing well, found I think at the
depth of twenty-eight feet in the year 1874 and continuously
flowing since that. Strange that no one was wise enough to
take the hint and that it was twenty years later before the sec-
ond flowing well was struck at Beaver Crossing, leading to the
systematic search for them which dotted the entire valley with
their fountains.
"There were no high water bridges across the West Blue in
those days. I remember acting as mail carrier for a number of
families on the south bank of the Blue during the high waters
of two or three summers, bringing the mail from the city of
Pittsburgh postoffice on the north bank. A torn shirt and a pair
of short-legged blue overalls — my entire wardrobe of those
days — were twisted into a turban about my head, and plunging
into the raging flood of the Blue which covered all the lower
bottoms, five minutes' vigorous swimming carried me through
the froth and foam and driftwood to the other side where I once
more resumed my society clothes and, after securing the mail,
upon my return to the river bank, tied it tightly in the turban
and crossed the river as before.
"I remember my first lessons in political economy, the fierce
fight between the northern and the southern parts of the county
upon the question of voting bonds to the Midland Pacific rail-
way during the years 1871-72. It was a sectional fight in fact,
but in theory and in debate it was a contest over some first
principles of government. The question of the people versus
the corporation, since grown to such great proportions, was then
260 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
first discussed to my childish ears. One incident of that con-
test is forever photographed on my brain — a crowd of one hun-
dred farmers and villagers lounging in the shadow of T. H.
Tisdale's old store. A yellow-.skinned, emaciated lawyer from
Lincoln who looked, to my boyish vision, like a Chinese chief-
tain from Manchuria, was speaking with fluent imaginative
words in favor of the benefits the people of Seward county
might secure by voting the bonds. This was H. W. Sommer-
lad, registrar of Lincoln land office. A short Saxon opponent,
Rev. W. Gr. Keen of Walnut creek, was picked from the crowd
by acclamation to reply to the Lincoln lawyer. The impression
of his fiery words denouncing the aggressions of capital and
appealing to the memories of the civil war and the Revolu-
tionary fathers to arouse the people's independence is with me
yet.
"Next in the economic vista is the old Brisbin sod school-
house east of Walnut creek where a grange was organized. Here
a lyceum was held through several winters in which the debates
were strongly tinctured with the rising anti-monopoly sentiment
of those hard times. George Michael and Charley Hunter, lead-
ers of the boyish dare-deviltry of those days, were chosen as
judges upon the debates in order to insure their good behavior,
and they gravely decided for the negative or affirmative many
deep discussions of doubtful themes.
"Beaver Crossing in the early days was remarkable for the
great number of boys in its surrounding population, and I have
observed in these later years when visiting there, that the custom
of having boy babies in the family does not appear to have en-
tirely gone out of fashion. That great swarm of restless boy
population which gathered, sometimes two hundred strong, Sat-
urday afternoons on the Common! What 'sleights of art and
feats of strength' went round! What struggles of natural se-
lection to secure a place upon the 'First Nine' of the baseball
team! For years Beaver Crossing had the best baseball club
in three or four counties, and some of her players won high
laurels on distant diamonds.
"One custom which obtained in those frontier days seems to
have been peculiar to the time, for I have not found it since in
other frontier communities. It was the custom of 'calling off'
the mail upon its arrival at the postoffice. The postmaster, old
SEWARD COUNTY REMINISCENCES 261
Tom Tisdale — a genuine facsimile of Petroleum V. Nasby —
would dump the sacks of mail, brought overland on a buckboard,
into a capacious box upon the counter of his store, then pick up
piece by piece, and read the inscriptions thereon in a sonorous
voice to the crowd, sometimes consisting of one or two hundred
people. Each claimant would cry out 'Here!' when his name
was called. Sometimes two-thirds of the mail was distributed in
this way, saving a large amount of manual labor in pigeon-
holing the same. Nasby had a happy and caustic freedom in
commenting upon the mail during the performance, not always
contemplated, I believe, by the United States postal regulations.
A woman's handwriting upon a letter addressed to a young man
was almost certain to receive some public notice from his sharp
tongue, to the great enjojonent of the crowd and sometimes the
visible annoyance of the young man. At one time he delib-
erately turned over a postal card written by a well-known young
woman of Beaver Crossing who was away at school, and on ob-
serving that the message was wTitten both horizontally and
across, commented, 'From the holy mother, in Dutch.' If I
should ever meet on the mystic other shore, which poets and
philosophers have tried to picture for us, old Tom Tisdale, I
would expect to see him with his spectacles pushed back from
his nose, 'calling off' the mail to the assembled spirits, the while
entertaining them with pungent personal epigrams.
' ' One startling picture arises from the past, framed as Brown-
ing writes 'in a sheet of flame' — the picture of the great praii-ie
fire of October, 1871, which swept Seward county from south
to north, leaving hardly a quarter section of continuous unburnt
sod. A heavy wind, increasing to a hurricane, drove this fire
down the West Blue valley. It jumped the Blue river in a
dozen places as easily as a jack rabbit jumps a road. It left a
great broad trail of cindered haystacks and smoking stables and
houses. A neighbor of ours who was burnt out remarked that
he had ' been through hell in one night, ' and had ' no fear of the
devil hereafter.'
' ' At the other end of the scale of temperature are recollections
of the 'Great Storm' of April 13, 14, 15, 1873. There burst
from a June atmosphere the worst blizzard in the history of the
state. For three days it blew thick, freezing sleet, changing to
snow so close and dense and dark that a man in a wagon vainly
262 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
looked for the horses hitched to it through the storm. Men who
were away from home lost their lives over the state. Stock was
frozen to death. In sod houses, dugouts, and log cabins settlers
huddled close about the hearth, burning enormous baskets of
ten-cent com to keep from freezing.
"In these later years of life. Fate has called me to make
minute study of many historical periods and places. Yet my
heart always turns to review the early scenes of settlement and
civilization in Seward county with a peculiar thrill of personal
emotion and special joy in the risen and rising fortunes of those
who there built the foundations of a great commonwealth. No
land can be dearer than the land of one's childhood and none
can ever draw my thoughts further over plain or ocean than the
happy valley upon West Blue whose waters spring spontaneously
from beneath the soil to water her fortunate acres. ' '
PIONEERING
By Grant Lee Shumway
On September 15, 1885, I crossed the Missouri river at Omaha,
and came west through Lincoln. The state fair was in full blast
but our party did not stop, as we were bound for Benkleman,
Parks, and Haigler, Nebraska.
After looking over Dundy county, Nebraska, and Cheyenne
county, Kansas, the rest of the party returned to Illinois.
I went to Indianola, and wnth Mr. Palraatier, I started for the
Medicine. He carried the mail to Stockville and Medicine,
which were newly established postoffices in the interior to the
north, and his conveyance was the hind wheels of an ordinary
wagon, to which he had fashioned a pair of thills. He said that
he was using such a vehicle because it enabled him to cut off
several miles in the very rough country through which we
The jolting was something fierce, but being young and used
to riding in lumber wagons, I did not mind. I was very much
interested in everything, but the things that linger most clearly
in my mind after all these years are the bushy whiskered, hope-
ful faces of the men who greeted us from dugouts and sod cab-
ins. The men's eyes were alight with enthusiasm and candor,
but I do not remember of having seen a woman or child upon
the trip.
It seems that men can drop back into the primitive so much
more easily than women: not perhaps with all the brutality of
the First Men, but they can adjust themselves to the environ-
ment of the wilderness, and the rusticity of the frontier, with
comparative ease.
I stopped for the night in Hay canon, a branch of Lake caiion,
at Hawkins brothers ' hay camp, and I remember when they told
me that they had three hundred tons of hay in the stack, that it
seemed almost an inconceivable quantity. On our old Illinois
farm twenty-five or thirty tons seemed a large amount, but three
hundred tons was beyond our range of reasoning. However,
264 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
we now stack that much on eighty acres in the Scottsbluff
country.
In due time I went on over the great tableland to the city of
North Platte, and going down the canon on the south side of the
south river, I killed my first jack rabbit, an event which seemed
to make me feel more of a westerner than any circumstance up
to that time.
My first impression of North Platte, with its twelve saloons,
was not of the best. And my conception of Buffalo Bill dropped
several notches in esteem when I saw the Wild "West saloon.
But in the light of years, I am less puritanical in my views of
the first people of the plains. In subsequent years I rode the
range as a cowboy, and drove twenty-mule teams mth a single
line and a blaeksnake, and while always I remained an abstainer
and occasionally found others that did likewise, I learned to tol-
erate, and then enjoy, the witticisms and foolishness of those
that did indulge. Sometimes the boys in their cups would
"smoke up" the little cities of the plains, but they never felt
any resentment if one of their number did not participate in
their drinking and festive sports.
I spent the winter of 1885 on the ranch of Hall & Evans, near
North Platte, and one of the pleasantest acquaintanceships of
my life has been that of John Evans, now registrar of the land
office at North Platte.
In the spring of '86 the constant stream of emigrant wagons
going west gave one an impression that in a Little time the entire
West would be filled, and I grew impatient to be upon my way
and secure selections. In May I arrived at Sidney and from
there rode in a box ear to Cheyenne. When we topped the
divide east of Cheyenne, I saw the snow-capped peaks of the
Rockies for the first time.
During the summer I "skinned mules," aiding in the con-
struction of the Cheyenne & Northern, now a part of the Hill
system that connects Denver with the Big Horn basin and Puget
sound.
Returning to Sidney in the autumn, I fell in with George
Hendricks, who had been in the mines for twenty years and
finally gave it up. We shoveled coal for the Union Pacific until
we had a grub stake for the winter. I purchased a broncho, and
upon him we packed our belongings — beds, blankets, tarpaulin,
PIONEERING 265
provisions, cooking utensils, tools, and clothing, and started
north over the divide for ' ' Pumpkin creek, ' ' our promised land.
In a little over a day's travel, one leading the horse and the
other walking behind to prod it along, we reached Hackberry
canon, and here, in a grove by a spring, we built our first cabin.
Three sides were log, the cracks filled with small pieces of
wood and plastered with mud from the spring, and the back of
the cabin was against a rock, and up this rock we improvised a
fireplace, with loose stones and mud.
When we had rigged a bunk of native red cedar along the
side of this nide shelter, and the fire was burning in our fire-
place, the coffee steaming, the bread baking in the skillet, the
odor of bacon frying, and the wind whistling through the tree-
tops, that cabin seemed a mighty cozy place.
We could sometimes hear the coyotes and the grey wolves howl
at night, but a sense of security prevailed, and our sleep was
sound. Out of the elements at hand, we had made the rudiments
of a home on land that was to become ours — our very own —
forever.
EARLY DAYS IN STANTON COUNTY
Statement by Andrew J. Bottorff
I came to Nebraska at the close of the civil war, having
served during the entire campaign with the Seventeenth Indiana
regiment. I came west with oxen and wagon in the fall of
1866, bringing my family. "We wintered at Rockport, but as
soon as spring opened went to Stanton county, where I took a
homestead. Here we had few neighbors and our share of hard-
ships, but thrived and were happy.
One day I heard my dogs barking and found them down in a
ravine, near the Elkhorn river, with an elk at bay, and killed
him with my axe.
The first year I was appointed county surveyor. Having no
instruments at hand, I walked to Omaha, over a hundred mUes
distant, and led a fat cow to market there. I sold the cow but
found no instruments. I was told of a man at Port Calhoun who
had an outfit I might get, so wended my way there. I found
E. H. Clark, who would sell me the necessary supplies, and I
bought them ; then carried them, with some other home necessi-
ties obtained in Omaha, back to Stanton, as I had come, on foot.
I am now seventy-five years old, and have raised a large fam-
ily; yet wife and I are as happy and spry as if we had never
worked, and are enjoying life in sunny California, where we
have lived for the last ten years.
Statement by Sven Johanson
"With my wife and two small children I reached Omaha, Ne-
braska, June 26, 1868. "We came direct from Norway, having
crossed the stormy Atlantic in a small sailboat, the voyage tak-
ing eight weeks.
A brother who had settled in Stanton county, 107 miles from
Omaha, had planned to meet us in that city. After being there
a few days this brother, together with two other men, arrived
and we were very happy. "With two yoke of oxen and one team
of horses, each hitched to a load of lumber, we journeyed from
266
EARLY DAYS IN STANTON COUNTY 267
Omaha to Stanton county. Arriving there, we found shelter in
a small dugout with our brother and family, where we remained
until we filed on a homestead and had built a dugout of our
own.
We had plenty of clothing, a good lot of linens and homespun
materials, but these and ten dollars in money were all we pos-
The land office was at Omaha and it was necessary for me to
walk there to make a filing. I had to stop along the way wher-
ever I could secure work, and in that way got some food, and
occasionally earned a few cents, and this enabled me to to pur-
chase groceries to carry back to my family. There were no
bridges across rivers or creeks and we were compelled to swim;
at one time in particular I was very thankful I was a good
swimmer. A brother-in-law and myself had gone to Fremont,
Nebraska, for employment, and on oiu- return we found the Elk-
horn river almost out of its banks. This frightened my com-
panion, who could not swim, but I told him to be calm, we would
come to no harm. I took our few groceries and our clothing and
swam across, then going back for my companion, who was a very
large man, I took him on my back and swam safely to the other
shore.
While I was away, my family would be holding down our
claim and taking care of our one cow. We were surrounded by
Indians, and there were no white people west of where we lived.
In the fall of 1869 we secured a yoke of oxen, and the follow-
ing spring hauled home logs from along the river and creek and
soon had a comfortable log house erected.
Thus we labored and saved little by little until we were able
to erect a frame house, not hewn by hand, but made from real
lumber, and by this time we felt well repaid for the many hard-
ships we had endured. The old "homestead" is still our home,
but the dear, faithful, loving mother who so bravely bore all the
hardships of early days was called to her rich reward January
28, 1912. She was born June 15, 1844, and I was born October
14, 1837.
FRED E. ROPER, PIONEER
By Ernest E. Cobrell
Fred E. Roper, a pioneer of Hebron, Nebraska, was eighty-
years old on October 10, 1915. Sixty-one years ago Mr. Roper
"crossed the plains," going from New York state to California.
Eleven years more than a half-century — and to look back
upon the then barren stretch of the country in comparison with
the present fertile region of prosperous homes and populous
cities, takes a vivid stretch of imagination to realize the dream-
like transformation. At that time San Francisco was a village
of about five hundred persons living in adobe huts surrounded
by a mud wall for a fortified protection from the marauding
Indians.
Fred E. Roper was born in Candor HiU, New York, October
10, 1835. When three years old he moved with his parents to
Canton, Bradford county, Pennsylvania, and later moved with
his brother to Baraboo, Wisconsin. Then he shipped as a
"hand" on a raft going down the Wisconsin and Mississippi
rivers to St. Louis, getting one dollar a day and board. He re-
turned north on a steamer, stopping at Burlington, Iowa, where
his sister resided.
In 1854, when he was nineteen years of age, Mr. Roper ' ' start-
ed west." His sister walked to the edge of the town with him
as he led his one-homed cow, which was to furnish milk for
coffee on the camp-out trip, which was to last three months,
enroute to the Pacific coast.
There were three outfits — a horse train, mule train, and ox
train. Mr. Roper traveled in an ox train of twenty-five teams.
The travelers elected officers from among those who had made
the trip before, and military discipline prevailed.
At nights the men took turns at guard duty in relays — from
dark to midnight and from midnight to dawn, when the herder
was called to turn the cattle out to browse. One man herded
them until breakfast was ready, and another man herded them
until time to yoke up. This overland train was never molested
Oregon Trail Monument, two miles north op Hebron
Erected by the citizens of Hebron and Thayer county, and Oregon Trail
Chapter, Daughters of t)ie American Revolution, dedicated May 24, 1915.
Cost $400
FRED E. ROPER, PIONEER 269
by the Indians, although one night some spying Cheyennes were
made prisoners under guard over night until the oxen were
yoked up and ready to start.
The prospectors crossed the Missouri river at Omaha, which
at that time had no residences or business buildings. Enroute
to Salt Lake City, the South Platte route was followed, aver-
aging about twenty miles a day. Enough provisions were car-
ried to last through the journey and as they had some provisions
left when they reached Salt Lake City, they were sold to the
half -starved Mormons at big prices.
Some perplexing difficulties were encountered on the journey.
At one point in the mountains, beyond Salt Lake City, the trail
was so narrow that the oxen were unhitched and led single file
around the cliff, while the wagons were taken apart and lowered
down the precipice with ropes.
When crossing the desert, additional M'ater had to be carried
in extra kegs and canteens. When the tired cattle got near
enough to the river to smell the fresh water, they pricked up
their ears, stiffened their necks, and made a rush for the stream,
so the men had to stand in front of them until the chains were
loosened to prevent their cra2;ily dashing into the water with
the wagons.
Mr. Roper worked by the day for three months in the mines
northeast of San Francisco. While placer mining, he one day
picked up a gold nugget, from which his engagement ring was
made by a jeweler in San Francisco, and worn by Mrs. Roper
until her death, October 28, 1908. The ring was engraved with
two hearts with the initials M. E. R., and is now in the posses-
sion of their son Maun, whose initials are the same.
Mr. Roper was one of a company of three men who worked a
claim that had been once worked over, on a report that there was
a crevasse that had not been bottomed. The first workers did
not have "quicksilver," which is necessary to catch fine gold,
but Mr. Roper's company had a jug shipped from San Fran-
cisco. Nothing less than a fifty-pound jug of quicksilver would
be sold, at fifty cents a pound. This was used in sluice-boxes a^
"quicksilver riiBes," to catch the fine float gold, when it would
instantly sink to the bottom of the quicksilver, while the dirt and
stones would wash over; the coarse rock would be first tossed out
with a sluice-fork (similar to a flat-tined pitchfork). In three
270 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
years the three men worked the mine out, making about fifteen
hundred dollars apiece.
With his share carried in buckskin sacks belted around his
waist under his clothes, Mr. Roper started in a sailing vessel up
north along the coast on a trip, hunting for richer diggings.
Then he went on a steamer to the Isthmus of Panama, which he
crossed with a hired horse team, then by steamer to New York
and by railroad to Philadelphia to get his gold minted.
After his marriage in 1861 Mr. Roper returned to the West
and in '64 ran a hotel at Beatrice called "Pat's Cabin." When
Nebraska voted on the question of admission to statehood, Mr.
Roper's ballot was vote No. 3.
Desiring to get a home of his own, Fred Roper came on west
into what is now Thayer county, and about six miles northwest
of the present site of Hebron up the Little Blue, he bought out
the preemption rights of Bill and Walt Hackney, who had
' ' squatted ' ' there with the expectation of paying the government
the customary $1.25 per acre. In certain localities those claims
afterwards doubled to $2.50 per acre. Mr. Roper paid only the
value of the log cabin and log stables, and came into possession
of the eighty acres, which he homesteaded, and later bought ad-
joining land for $1.25 per acre.
Occasionally he made trips to St. Joe and Nebraska City for
supplies, which he freighted overland to Hackney ranch. At
that time Mr. Roper knew every man on the trail from the Mis-
souri river to Kearney. On these trips he used to stop with Bill
McCandles, who was shot with three other victims by "Wild
Bill" on Rock creek in Jefferson county.
The first house at Hackney ranch was burned by the Chey-
enne Indians in their great raid of 1864, at which time Miss
Laura Roper (daughter of Joe B. Roper) and Mrs. Bubanks
were captui-ed by the Indians near Fox Ford in Nuckolls county
and kept in captivity until ransomed by Colonel Wyncoop of
the U. S. army for $1,000. Si Alexander of Meridian (south-
east of the present town of Alexandria), was with the govern-
ment troops at the time of Miss Roper's release near Denver.
Her parents, believing her dead, had meanwhile moved back to
New York state. (Laura Roper is still alive, being now Mrs.
Laura Vance, at Skiatook, Oklahoma.) At the time of the
above-mentioned raid, the Indians at Hackney ranch threw the
FRED E. ROPER, PIONEER 271
charred cottonwood logs of the house into the well, to prevent
travelers from getting water. Fred Roper was then at Beatrice,
having just a few days before sold Hackney ranch to an over-
land traveler. After the raid the new owner deserted the place,
in the fall of 1869, and in a few months Mr. Roper returned
from Beatrice and again preempted the same place.
In 1876 Mr. and Mrs. Roper moved to Meridian and ran a
tavern for about a year, then moved back to Hackney, where
they resided until the fall of 1893, when they moved into He-
bron to make their pei-manent home. Mr. Roper was postmaster
at Hebron for four yeare under Cleveland's last administration.
THE LURE OP THE PRAIRIES
By Lucy L. Correll
The memories of the long hot days of August, 1874, are burned
into the seared recollection of the pioneers of Nebraska. For
weeks the sun had poured its relentless rays upon the hopeful,
patient people, until the very atmosphere seemed vibrant with
the pulsing heat waves.
One day a young attorney of Hebron was called to Nuckolls
county to "try a case" before a justice of the peace, near a
postoffice known as Henrietta. Having a light spring wagon
and two ponies he invited his wife and little baby to accompany
him for the drive of twenty-five miles. Anything was better
than the monotony of staying at home, and the boundless free-
dom of the prairies was always enticing. An hour's di'ive and
the heat of the sun became oppressively intense. The barren
distance far ahead was unbroken by tree, or house, or field.
There was no sound but the steady patter of the ponies' feet
over the prairie grass ; no moving object but an occasional flying
hawk; no road but a trail through the rich prairie grass, and
one seemed lost in a wilderness of unvarying green. The heat-
waves seemed to rise from the ground and quiver in the air.
Soon a wind, soft at first, came from the southwest, but ere long
became a hot blast, and reminded one of the heated air from an
opened oven door. Added to other inconveniences came the in-
tense thirst produced from the sun and dry atmosphere — and
one might have cried ' ' My kingdom for a drink ! " — but there
was no "kingdom."
After riding about nine miles there came into view the home-
stead of Teddy McGovem — the only evidence of life seen on
that long day's drive. Here was a deep well of cold water.
Cheery words of greeting and hearty handclasps evidenced that
aU were neighbors in those days. Again turning westward a
comer of the homestead was passed where were several little
graves among young growing trees — "Heartache comer" it
272
THE LUEE OF THE PRAIRIES 273
might have been called. The sun shone as relentless there as
upon all Nebraska, that scorching summer.
As the afternoon wore on, looking across the prairies the heat-
waves seemed to pulse and beckon us on ; the lure of the prairies
was upon us, and had we chosen we could not but have obeyed.
Only the pioneers knew how to endure, to close their eyes to ex-
clude the burning light, and close the lips to the withering heat.
At last our destination was reached at the homestead of the
justice of the peace. We were gladly seated to a good supper
with the host and family of growing boys. After the meal the
"Justice Court" was held out of doors in the shade of the east
side of the house, there being more room and "more air" out-
side. The constable, the offender, the witness and attorney and
a few neighbors constituted the prairie court, and doubtless the
decisions were as legal and as lasting as those of more imposing
surroimdings of later days.
But the joy of the day had only just begun, for as the sun
went down, so did even the hot wind, leaving the air so heavy
and motionless and oppressive one felt his lungs closing up.
The boys of the family sought sleep out of doors, the others
under the low roof of a two-roomed log house. Sleep was im-
possible, rest unknown until about midnight, when mighty peals
of thunder and brilliant lightning majestically announced the
oncoming Nebraska storm. No lights were needed, as nature's
electricity was iHuminatingly sufficient. The very logs quivered
with the thunder's reverberations, and soon a terrific wind load-
ed with hail beat against the little house until one wondered
whether it were better to be roasted alive by nature 's consuming
heat, or torn asunder by the warring elements. But the storm
beat out its fury, and with daylight Old Sol peeped over the
prairies with a drenched but smiling face.
Adieus were made and the party started homeward. After a
few miles' travel the unusual number of grasshoppers was com-
mented upon, and soon the air was filled with their white bodies
and beating wings; then the alarming fact dawned upon the
travelers that this was a grasshopper raid. The pioneers had
lived through the terrors of Indian raids, but this assault from
an enemy outside of the human realm was a new experience.
The ponies were urged eastward, but the hoppers cheerfully
kept pace and were seen to be outdistancing the travelers. They
274 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
filled the air and sky and obliterated even the horizon. Heat,
thirst, distance were all submerged in the appalling dread of
what awaited.
As the sun went down the myriads of grasshoppers "went to
roost." Every vegetable, every weed and blade of grass bore its
burden. On the clothes-line the hoppers were seated two and
three deep ; and upon the windlass rope which drew the bucket
from the well they clung and entwined their bodies.
The following morning the hungry millions raised in the air,
saluted the barren landscape and proceeded to set an emulating
pace for even the busy bee. They flew and beat about, impu-
dently slapping their wings against the upturned, anxious faces,
and weary eyes, trying to penetrate through the apparent snow-
storm — the air filled with the white bodies of the ravenous
hordes. This appalling sight furnished diversion sufficient to
the inhabitants of th^ little community for that day.
People moved quietly about, in subdued tones wondering what
the outcome would be. How long would the hoppers remain?
Would they deposit their eggs to hatch the following spring and
thus perpetuate their species? Would the old progenitors re-
turn?
But, true to the old Persian proverb, ' ' this too, passed away. ' '
The unwelcome intruders departed leaving us with an occasional
old boot-leg, or leather strap, or dried rubber, from which the
cormorants had sucked the "juice."
The opening of the next spring was cold and rainy. Not
many of the grasshopper eggs hatched. Beautiful Nebraska
was herself again and ' ' blossomed as the rose. ' '
SUFFRAGE IN NEBRASKA
Statement by Mrs. Gertrude M. McDowell
When I was requested to write a short article in regard to
woman's suffrage in Nebraska I thought it would be an easy
task. As the days passed and my thoughts became confusedly
spread over the whole question from its incipiency, it proved to
be not an easy task but a most difficult one. There was so much
of interest that one hardly knew where to begin and what to
This question has been of life-long interest to me and I have
always been in full sympathy with the movement. "When the
legislature in 1882 submitted the suffrage amendment to the
people of the state of Nebraska for their decision, we were ex-
ceedingly anxious concerning the outcome.
A state suffrage association was formed. Mrs. Brooks of
Omaha was elected president; Mrs. Bittenbender of Lincoln,
recording secretary; Gertrude M. McDowell of Fairbury, cor-
responding secretary.
There were many enthusiastic workers throughout the state.
Among them, I remember Mrs. Clara Bewick Colby, of Beatrice,
whom we considered our general; Mrs. Lucinda RusseU and
Mrs. Mary Holmes of Teeumseh, Mrs. Annie M. Steele of Fair-
bury, Mrs. A. J. Sawyer, Mrs. A. J. Caldwell, and Mrs. Deborah
King of Lincoln, Mrs. E. M. Correll of Hebron and many more
that I do not now recall.
There were many enthusiastic men over the state who gave the
cause ardent support. Senator E. M. Correll of Hebron was
ever on the alert to aid in convention work and to speak a word
which might carry conviction to some unbeliever.
Some years previous to our campaign, Elizabeth Cady Stanton
and Lucy Stone on one of their lecture tours in the West were
so impressed with the enthusiasm and good work of Hon. E. M.
Correll that they elected him president of the National Suffrage
Association, for one year. I also recall Judge Ben S. Baker,
now of Omaha, and C. F. Steele of Fairbury, as staunch sup-
275
276 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
porters of the measure. During the campaign, many national
workers were sent into the state, among them Susan B. Anthony,
Phoebe Couzens, Elizabeth Saxon of New Orleans, and others.
They directed and did valiant work in the cause. We failed to
carry the measure in the state, but we are glad to note that it
carried in our own town of Pairbury.
Thanks to the indomitable personality of our Nebraska women,
they began immediately to plan for another campaign. In 1914,
our legislature again submitted an amendment and it was a^ain
defeated. Since then I have been more than ever in favor of
making the amendment a national one, President Wilson to the
contrary notwithstanding — not because we think the educa-
tional work is being entirely lost, but because so much time and
money are being wasted on account of our foreign population
and their attitude towards reform. It is a grave and a great
question. One thing we are assured of, viz: that we will never
give up our belief in the final triumph of our great cause.
It is a far cry from the first woman's suffrage convention in
1850, brought about by the women who were excluded from act-
ing as delegates at the anti-slavery convention in London in
1840.
Thus a missionary work was begun then and there for the
emancipation of women in "the land of the free and the home
of the brave." We can never be grateful enough to Lucretia
Mott, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, and other
noble, self-sacrificing women who did so much pioneer work in
order to bring about better laws for women and in order to
change the moth-eaten thought of the world.
Many felt somewhat discouraged when the election returns
from New Jersey, Massachusetts, and New York announced the
defeat of the measure, but really when we remember the long
list of states that have equal suffrage we have reason to rejoice
and to take new courage. We now have Wyoming, Kansas,
Utah, Idaho, Colorado, California, Oregon, Washington, Nevada,
Montana, Arizona, New Mexico, Alaska, and Illinois, besides the
countries of Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Iceland, Finland, New
Zealand, Australia, Nova Scotia, and some parts of England.
In the future when the cobwebs have all been swept from the
mind of the world and everyone is enjoying the new atmosphere
of equal rights only a very few will realize the struggle these
SUFFRAGE IN NEBRASKA 277
brave women endured in order to bring about better conditions
for the world.
Statement by Lucy L. Correll
Hebron, Thayer county, Nebraska, was the cradle of the Ne-
braska woman suffrage movement, as this was the first com-
munity in the state to organize a permanent woman's suffrage
association.
Previous to this organization the subject had been agitated
through editorials in the Hebron Journal, and by a band of pro-
gressive, thinking women. Upon their request the editor of the
Journal, E. M. CorreU, prepared an address upon "Woman and
Citizenship." Enthusiasm was aroused, and a column of the
Journal was devoted to the interests of women, and was ably
edited by the coterie of ladies having the advancement of the
legal status of women at heart.
Through the efforts of Mr. Correll, Susan B. Anthony was in-
duced to come to Hebron and give her lecture on ' ' Bread versus
the Ballot," on October 30, 1877. Previous to this time many
self-satisfied women believed they had all the "rights" they
wanted, but they were soon awakened to a new consciousness of
their true status wherein they discovered their "rights" were
only ' ' privileges. ' '
On April 15, 1879, Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, upon invita-
tion, lectured in Hebron and organized the Thayer County
Woman's Suffrage Association. This society grew from fifteen,
the number at organization, to about seventy-five, many leading
business men becoming members.
Other organizations in the state followed, and at the convening
of the Nebraska legislature of 1881, a joint resolution providing
for the submission to the electors of this state an amendment to
section 1, article VII, of the constitution, was presented by
Representative E. M. Correll, and mainly through his efforts
passed the house by the necessary three-fifths majority, and the
senate by twenty-two to eight, but was defeated at the polls.
During that memorable campaign of 1881-82, Lucy Stone
Blackwell, and many other talented women of note, from the
eastern states, lectured in Nebraska for the advancement of
women, leaving the impress of the nobility of their characters
upon the women of the middle West.
278 NEBEASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
The Thayer County Woman's Suffrage Association was highly
honored, as several of its members held positions of trust in the
state association, and one of its members, Hon. E. M. Correll,
who was publishing the Woman's Journal, at Lincoln, at the
time of the annual conference of the American Woman's Suf-
frage Association, at Louisville, Kentucky, in October, 1881,
was elected to the important position of president of that na-
tional organization, in recognition of the work he had performed
for the advancement of the cause of "Equality before the Law."
This association served its time and purpose and after many
years was instrumental in organizing the Hebron Library Asso-
ciation.
The constitution and by-laws of this first woman's suffrage
association of the state are still well preserved. The first of-
ficers were: Susan E. Ferguson, president; Harriet G. Huse,
vice president; Barbara J. Thompson, secretary; Lucy L. Cor-
rell, treasurer; A. Martha Vermillion, corresponding secretary.
Of these first officers only one is now living.
AN INDIAN RAID
By Ernest E. Correll
In 1869, Fayette Kingsley and family resided on the Haney
homestead at the southeast comer of Hebron, where Mr. Haney
had been brutally murdered in the presence of his three daugh-
ters in 1867, the daughters escaping and eventually reaching
their home, ' ' back east. ' '
On May 26, 1869, "Old Daddy" Marks, accompanied by a
young man for protection, drove over from Rose creek to warn
Kingsley 's that the Indians were on a raid. While they were
talking, Mr. Kingsley heard the pit-pat of the Indian hoi-ses on
the wet prairie. Prom the west were riding thirty-six Indians,
led by a white man, whose hat and fine boots attracted attention
in contrast to the bareheaded Indians wearing moccasins.
In the house were enough guns and revolvers to shoot sixty
rounds without loading. When Mrs. Kingsley saw the Indians
approaching she scattered the arms and ammunition on the table
where the men could get them. There were two Spencer car-
bines, a double-barreled shotgun, and two navy revolvers, besides
other firearms.
Mr. Kingsley and Charlie Miller (a young man from the East
who was boarding with them) went into the house, got the guns,
and leveled them on the Indians, who had come within 250 yards
of the log-house, but who veered off on seeing the guns. One of
the party at the house exclaimed, "The Indians are going past
and turning off ! " Mr. Marks then said, ' ' Then for God 's sake,
don 't shoot ! ' '
The Indians went on down the river and drove away eleven
of King Fisher's horses. Two of Fisher's boys lay concealed in
the grass and saw the white leader of the Indians remove his
hat, showing his close-cut hair. He talked the Indian language
and ordered the redskins to drive up a pony, which proved to
be lame and was not taken. The Indians continued their raid
nearly to Meridian.
Meanwhile at Kingsley 's preparations were made for a hurried
flight. Mr. Marks said he must go home to protect his own
family on Rose creek, but the young man accompanying him in-
sisted that he cross the river and return by way of Alexander's
279
280 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
ranch on the Big Sandy, as otherwise they would be following
the Indians. Mr. Kingsley, with his wife and three children,
went with them to Alexander's ranch, staying there two weeks
until Governor Butler formed a company of militia composed
of the settlers, to protect the frontier. A company of the Sec-
ond U. S. Cavalry was sent here and stationed west of Hackney,
later that summer. The Indians killed a man and his son, and
took their horses, less than two miles from the soldiers' camp.
On returning to the homestead, two cows and two yoke of
oxen were found all right. Before the flight, Mr. Kingsley had
torn down the pen, letting out a calf and a pig. Sixty days
later, on recovering the pig, Mr. Kingsley noticed a sore spot on
its back, and he pulled out an arrow point about three inches
long.
The Indians had taken aU the bedding and eatables, even
taking fresh baked bread out of the oven. They tore open the
feather-bed and scattered the contents about — whether for
amusement or in search of hidden treasures is not known. They
found a good pair of boots, and cut out the fine leather tops
(perhaps for moccasins) but left the heavy soles. From a new
harness they also took all the fine straps and left the tugs and
heavy leather. They had such a load that at the woodpile they
discarded Mr. Kingsley 's double-barreled shotgun, which had
been loaded with buckshot for them.
Captain Wilson, a lawyer who boarded with Mr. Kingsley,
had gone to warn King Fisher, leaving several greenbacks inside
a copy of the Nebraska statutes. These the Indians found and
appropriated — perhaps their white leader was a renegade law-
yer accustomed to getting money out of the statutes.
In 1877 Mr. Kingsley 's family had a narrow escape from
death in a peculiar manner. After a heavy rain the walls of his
basement caved in. His children occupied two beds standing
end to end and filling the end of the basement. When the rocks
from the wall caved in, both beds were crushed to the floor and
a little pet dog on one of the beds was killed, but the children
had no bones broken. Presumably the bedding protected them
and the breaking of the bedsteads broke the jar of the rocks on
their bodies.
Mr. Kingsley has a deeply religious nature, and believes that
Divine protection has been with him through life.
REMINISCENCES
By Mes. E. a. Russell
In September, 1884, Rev. E. A. Russell was transferred by the
American Baptist Publication Society from his work in the East
to Nebraska, and settled on an eighty-acre ranch near Ord. Mr.
Russell had held pastorates for twenty-six years in New Hamp-
shire, New York, and Indiana, but desired to come west for im-
provement in health. He was accompanied by his family of
seven. Western life was strange and exciting with always the
possibility of an Indian raid, and dangerous prairie fires. It
was the custom to plow a wide furrow around the home build-
ings as a precaution against the latt«r.
The first year in Nebraska, our oldest daughter, Alice M. Rus-
sell, was principal of the Ord school, and Edith taught in the
primary grade.
On the fifth of August, 1885, late in the afternoon, a terrific
hail-storm swept over the country. All crops were destroyed;
even the grass was beaten into the earth, so there was little left
as past^jre for cattle. Pigs and poultry were killed by dozens
and the plea of a tender-hearted girl, that a poor calf, beaten
down by hailstones, might be brought "right into the kitchen,"
was long remembered. Not a window in our house remained
unbroken. The floor was covered with rain and broken glass
and ice ; and our new, white, hard-finished walls and ceilings
were bespattered and disfigured.
This hail-storm was a general calamity. The whole country
suffered and many families returned, disheartened, to friends in
the East.
The Baptist church was so shattered that, for its few mem-
bers, it was no easy task to repair it. But they soon put it in
good condition, only to see it utterly wrecked by a small cyclone
the following October.
The income that year from a forty-acre cornfield was one small
"nubbin" less than tliree inches in length.
All these things served to emphasize the heart-rending stories
281
282 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
we kad heard of sufferings of early pioneers. The nervous shock
sustained by the writer was so great that a year elapsed before
she was able to see clearly, or to read. As she was engaged on
the four years' post-graduate course of the Chautauqua Literary
and Scientific Circle, her eldest son read aloud to her during
that year and her work was completed at the same time as he
and his younger sister graduated with the class of 1887.
Some time later the writer organized a Chautauqua Circle,
Ord 's first literary society. Its president was a Mr. King and its
secretary E. J. Clements, now of Lincoln, Nebraska.
During our second winter in Nebraska the writer did not see
a woman to speak to after her daughters went to their schools in
Lincoln, where one was teaching and the other a University
pupil.
Of the "Minnie Freeman Storm" in January, 1888, all our
readers have doubtless heard. Our two youngest boys were at
school a mile away ; but fortunately we lived south of town and
they reached home in safety.
In 1881 Fort Hartsuff, twelve miles away, had been aban-
doned. The building of this fort had been the salvation of pio-
neers, giving them work and wages after the terrible scourge of
locusts in 1874. It was still the pride of those who had been
enabled to remain in the desolated countiy and we heard much
about it. So, when a brother came from New England to visit
an only sister on the "Great American Desert," we took an
early start one morning and visited ' ' The Fort. ' ' The buildings,
at that time, were in fairly good condition. Officers' quarters,
barracks, commissary buildings, stables, and other structures
were of concrete, so arranged as to form a hollow square; and,
near by on a hill, was a circular stockade, which was said to be
connected with the fort by an underground passage.
A prominent figure in Ord in 1884 was an attractive young
lady who later married Dr. F. D. Haldeman. In 1904 Mrs.
Haldeman organized Coronado chapter, Daughtei-s of the Amer-
ican Revolution. Her sister. Dr. Minerva Newbeeker, has prac-
ticed medicine in Ord for many years. Another sister, Clara
Newbeeker, has long been a teacher in the public schools of Chi-
cago. These three sisters, who descended from Lieutenant Philip
Newbeeker, of Revolutionary fame, and Mrs. Nellie Coombs, are
the only living charter members of Coronado chapter. The
REMINISCENCES 283
chapter was named in honor of that governor of New Galicia in
Mexico who is supposed to have passed through some portion of
our territory in 1540 when he fitted out an expedition to seek
and christianize the people of that wonderful region where
"golden bells and dishes of solid gold" hung thick upon the
trees.
About all that is definitely known is that he set up a cross at
the big river, with the inscription: "Thus far came Francisco
de Coronado, General of an expedition."
And now, in 1915, the family of seven, by one marriage after
another, has dwindled to a lonely — two.
The head of our household, with recovered health, served his
denomination twenty years in this great field, comprising Ne-
braska, Upper Colorado, and Wyoming. He retired in 1904 to
the sanctuary of a quiet home.
EEMINISCENCES OF FORT CALHOUN
By W. H. Allen
I reached Fort Calhoun in May, 1856, with my friends, Mr.
and Mrs. John Allen ; coming with team and wagon from Edgar
county, Illinois. I was then eleven years old. Fort Calhoun had
no soldiers, but some of the Fort Atkinson buildings ware still
standing. I remember the liberty pole, the magazine, the old
brick-yard, at which places we children played and picked up
trinkets. There was one general store then, kept by Pink Allen
and Jascoby, and but few settlers. Among those I remember
were, my uncle, Thomas Allen ; E. H. Clark, a land agent ; Col.
Geo. Stevens and family, who started a hotel in 1856, and Orrin
Rhoades, whose family lived on a claim five miles west of town.
That summer my father took a claim near Rhoades', building a
log house and bam at the edge of the woods. "We moved there
in the fall, and laid in a good supply of wood for the huge fire-
place, used for cooking as well as heating. Our rations were
scanty, consisting of wild game for meat, com bread, potatoes and
beans purchased at Fort Calhoun. The next spring we cleared
some small patches for garden and com, which we planted and
tended with a hoe. There were no houses between ours and Fort
Calhoun, nor any bridges. Rhoades' house and ours were the
only ones between Fontenelle and Fort Calhoun. Members of
the Quincy colony at Fontenelle went to Council Bluffs for flour
and used our place as a half-way house, stopping each way over
night. How we children did enjoy their company, and stories
of the Indians. We were never molested by the red men, only
that they would come begging food occasionally.
I had no schooling until 1860 when I worked for my board
in Fort Cahoun at E. H. Clark's and attended public school a
few months. The next two years I did likewise, boarding at
Alex. Reed's.
From 1866 to 1869 inclusive I cut cord-wood and railroad ties
which I hauled to Omaha for use in the building of the Union
REMINISCENCES OF FT. CALHOUN 285
Pacific railroad. I received from $8.00 to $15.00 per cord for
my wood, and $1.00 each for ties.
Deer were plentiful and once when returning from Omaha I
saw an old deer and fawn. Unhitching my team I jumped on
one horse and chased the young one down, caught and tamed it.
I put a bell on its neck and let it run about at will. It came
to its sleeping place every night until the next spring when it
left, never to be seen by us again.
In the fall of 1864 I was engaged by Edward Creighton to
freight with a wagon train to Denver, carrying flour and tele-
graph supplies. The cattle were corralled and broke at Cole's
creek, west of Omaha known then as "Robber's Roost," and I
thought it great fun to yoke and break those wild cattle. We
started in October with forty wagons, seven yoke of oxen to each
wagon. I went as far as Port Cottonwood, one hundred miles
beyond Port Kearny, reaching there about November 20. There
about a dozen of us grew tired of the trip and turned back with
a wagon and one ox team. On our return, at Plum creek, thirty-
fives miles west of Port Kearny we saw where a train had been
attacked by Indians, oxen killed, wagons robbed and abandoned.
We waded the rivers, Loup Pork and Platte, which was a cold
bath at that time of year.
I lived at this same place in the woods until I took a home-
stead three miles farther west in 1868.
My father's home was famous at that time, also years after-
ward, as a beautiful spot, in which to hold Pourth of July cele-
brations, school picnics, etc., and the hospitality and good cook-
ing of my mother, "Aunt Polly Allen" as she was familiarly
called, was known to all the early settlers in this section of the
country.
REMINISCENCES OP WASHINGTON COUNTY
By Mrs. Emily Bottorpp Allen
I came to Washington county, Nebraska, with my parents in
the fail of 1865, by ox team from Indiana. We stopped at
Rockport, where father and brothers got work at wood chopping.
They built a house by digging into a hUl and using logs to finish
the front. The weather was delightful, and autumn's golden
tints in the foliage were beautiful.
We gathered ha^el nuts and wild grapes, often searing a deer
from the underbrush. Our neighbors were the Shipleys, who
were very hospitable, and shared their garden products with us.
During the winter father bought John Frazier's homestead,
but our home was still in a dugout, in which we were comfort-
able. We obtained all needed supplies from Port Calhoun or
Omaha.
In the spring Amasa Warrick, from Cuming City, came to our
home in search of a teacher and offered me the position, which
I accepted. Elam Clark of Fort Calhoun endorsed my teacher's
certificate. I soon commenced teaching at Ciuning City, and
pupils came for miles around. I boarded at George A. Brig-
ham's. Mr. Brigham was county surveyor, postmaster, music
teacher, as well as land agent, and a very fine man.
One day, while busy with my classes, the door opened and
three large Indians stole in, seating themselves near the stove.
I was greatly alarmed and whispered to one of my pupils to
hasten to the nearest neighbor for assistance. As soon as the
lad left, one Indian went to the window and asked "Where boy
go?" I said, "I don't know." The three Indians chattered
together a moment, and then the spokesman said, "I kill you
sure, ' ' but seeing a man coming in the distance with a gun, they
all hurried out and ran over the hill.
I taught at Cuming City until the school fund was exhausted,
and by that time the small schoolhouse on Long creek was com-
pleted. Allen Craig and Thomas McDonald were directors. I
boarded at home and taught the first school in this district, with
WASHINGTON COUNTY 287
fourteen pupils enrolled. At this time Judge Bowen of Omaha
was county superintendent, and I went there to have my certi-
ficate renewed.
When all the public money in the Long Creek district was
used up, I went back to Cuming City to teach. The population
of this district had increased to such an extent that I needed an
assistant, and I was authorized to appoint one of ray best pupils
to the position. I selected Vienna Cooper, daughter of Dr. P. J.
Cooper. I boarded at the Lippincott home, known as the ' ' Half-
way House" on the stage line between Omaha and Decatur. It
was a stage station where horses were changed and drivers and
passengers stopped over night.
At the close of our summer term we held a picnic and enter-
tainment on the Methodist church grounds, using the lumber
for the new church for our platform and seats. This entertain-
ment was pronounced the gi-andest affair ever held in the West.
The school funds of the Cuming City district being again ex-
hausted, I returned to Long Creek district in the fall of 1867,
and ta.ught as long as there was any money in the treasury. By
that time the village of Blair had sprung up, absorbing Cuming
City and De Soto, and I was employed to teach in their new
log schoolhouse. T. M. Carter was director of the Blair district.
Orrin Colby of Bell Creek, was county superintendent, and he
visited the schools of the county, making the rounds on foot. I
taught at Blair until April, 1869, when I was married to William
Henry Allen, a pioneer of Port Calhoun. Our license was issued
by Judge Stilts of Fort Calhoun, where we were married by Dr.
Andrews. We raised our family in the Long Creek district, and
still reside where we settled in those pioneer days.
REMINISCENCES OP PIONEER LIPE AT PORT
CALHOUN
By Mrs. N. J. Prazier Brooks
I came to Nebraska in the spring of 1857 from Edgar county,
Illinois, with my husband, Thomas Prazier, and small daughter,
Mary. We traveled in a wagon drawn by oxen, took a claim
one and one-half miles south of Port Calhoun and thought we
were settling near what would be Nebraska's metropolis. My
husband purchased slabs at the saw mill at Calhoun and built our
shanty of one room with a deck roof. For our two yoke of oxen
he made a shed of poles and grass and we all were comfortable
and happy in our new home. In the spring Mr. Prazier broke
prairie, put in the most extensive crops hereabouts, for my hus-
band was young and ambitious. We had brought enough money
with us to buy everything obtainable in this new country, but
he would often say, "I'd hate to have the home folks see how
you and Mary have to live." Deer were a common sight and
we ate much venison ; wild turkeys were also plentiful. They
could be heard every morning and my husband would often go
in our woods and get one for our meat.
In 1859 he went to Boone county, Iowa, and bought a cow,
hauling her home in a wagon. She soon had a heifer calf and
we felt that our herd was well started. The following winter was
so severe that during one storm we brought the cow in our house
to save her. The spring of 1860 opened up fine and as we had
prospered and were now making money from our crops we built
us a frame house, bought a driving team, cows, built fences, etc.
I still own this fii-st claim, and although my visions of Port Cal-
houn were never realized I know of no better place in which to
live and my old neighbors, some few of whom are still here,
proved to be everlasting friends.
REMINISCENCES OF DE SOTO IN 1855
By Oliver Bouvier
Mother Bouvier, a kind old soul, who settled in De Soto in
the summer of 1855, had many hardships. Just above her log
house, on the ridge, was the regular Indian trail and the Indians
made it a point to stop at our house regularly, as they went to
Fort Calhoun or to Omaha. She befriended them many times and
they always treated her kindly. "Omaha Mary," who was often
a caller at our house was always at the head of her band. She
was educated and could talk French well to us. What she said
was law with all the Indians. Our creek was thick with beavers
and as a small boy I could not trap them, but she could, and had
her traps there and collected many skins from our place. I
wanted her to show me the trick of it, but she would never allow
me to follow her. At one time I sneaked along and she caught
me in the act and grabbed me by the collar and with a switch
in her hand, gave me a severe warming. This same squaw was
an expert with bow and arrow, and I have seen her speedily
cross the Missouri river in a canoe with but one oar. Our wall
was always black and greasy by the Indians sitting against it
while they ate the plates of mush and sorghum my mother served
them. I have caught many buffalo calves out on the prairies,
and one I brought to our De Soto home and tamed it. My sister
Adeline and myself tried to break it to drive with an ox hitched
to a sled, but never succeeded to any great extent. One day
Joseph La Flesche came along and offered us $50.00 for it and
we sold it to him but he found he could not separate it from
our herd, so bought a heifer, which it would follow and Mr.
Joseph Boucha and myself took them up to the reservation for
him. He entertained us warmly at his Indian quarters for two
or three days. I have cured many buffalo steak (by the Indian
method) and we used the meat on our table.
REMINISCENCES
By Thomas M. Carter
In the spring of 1855, with my brother, Alex Carter, E. P. and
D. D. Stout, I left the beautiful hills and valleys of Ohio, to seek
a home in the west. After four weeks of travel by steamboat
and stage, horseback and afoot, we reached the town of Omaha,
then only a small village. It took us fourteen days to make the
trip from St. Louis to Omaha.
While waiting at Kanesville or Council Bluffs as it is now
called, we ascended the hills back of the town and gazed across
to the Nebraska side. I thought of Daniel Boone as he wan-
dered westward on the Kentucky hills looking into Ohio. ' ' Fair
was the scene that lay before the little band, that paused upon
its toilsome way, to view the new found land."
At St. Mary we met Peter A. Sarpy. He greeted us all warm-
ly and invited all to get out of the stage and have a drink at
his expense. As an inducement to settle in Omaha, we were
each offered a lot anywhere on the townsite, if we would build
on it, but we had started for De Soto, "Washington county, and
no ordinary offer could induce us to change our purpose.
We thought that with such an excellent steamboat landing and
quantities of timber in the vicinity, De Soto had as good a
chance as Omaha to become the metropolis. We reached De
Soto May 14, 1855, and found one log house finished and another
under way. Zaremba Jackson, a newspaper man, and Dr. Fin-
ney occupied the log cabin and we boarded with them until we
had located a claim and built a cabin upon the laud we subse-
quently entered and upon which the city of Blair is now built.
After I had built my cabin of peeled willow poles the Cuming
City Claim Club warned me by writing on the willow poles of
my cabin that if I did not abandon that claim before June 15,
1855, I would be treated to a free bath in Fish creek and free
transportation across the Missouri river. This however proved
to be merely a bluff. I organized and was superintendent of the
first Sunday school in Washington county in the spring of 1856.
290
EEMINISCENCES 291
The first board of trustees of the Methodist church in the
county was appointed by Rev. A. G. White, on June 1, 1866, and
conaisted of the following members, Alex Carter, L. D. Cameron,
James Van Horn, M. B. Wilds, and myself. The board met and
resolved itself into a building committee and appointed me as
chairman. We then proceeded to devise means to provide for a
church building at Cuming City, by each member of the board
subscribing fifty dollars. At the second meeting it was discov-
ered that this was inadequate and it was deemed necessary for
this subscription to be doubled. The church was built, the mem-
bers of the committee hewing logs of elm, walnut, and oak for
sills and hauling with ox teams. The church was not completely
finished but was used for a place of worship. This building
was moved under the supervision of Rev. Jacob Adriance and
by his financial support from Cuming City to Blair in 1870.
Later it was sold to the Christian church, moved off and re-
modeled and is still doing service as a church building in Blair.
Jacob Adriance was the first regular Methodist pastor to be
assigned to the mission extending from De Soto to Decatur.
His first service was held at De Soto on May 3, 1857, at the home
of my brother, Jacob Carter, a Baptist. The congregation con-
sisted of Jacob Carter, his family of five, Alex Carter, myself
and wife.
The winter before Rev. Adriance came Isaac Collins was con-
ducting protracted meetings in De Soto and so much interest
was being aroused that some of the ruifians decided to break up
the meetings. One night they tlirew a dead dog through a win-
dow hitting the minister in the back, knocking over the candles
and leaving us in darkness. The minister straightened up and
declared, "The devil isn't dead in De Soto yet."
I was present at the Calhoun claim fight at which Mr. Goss
was killed and Purple and Smith were wounded.
The first little log school was erected on the townsite of Blair,
the patrons cutting and hauling the lumber. I was the first
director and Mrs. William Allen nee Emily Bottorff, first teacher.
I served as worthy patriarch of the First Sons of Temperance
organization in the county and lived in De Soto long enough to
see the last of the whiskey traffic banished from that township.
I have served many years in Washington county as school
director, justice of the peace, and member of the county board.
1:
292 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES |
In October, 1862, I joined the Second Nebraska cavalry for ;
service on the frontier. Our regiment lost a few scalps and
buried a number of Indians. "We bivouacked on the plains,
wrapped in our blankets, while the skies smiled propitiously-
over us and we dreamed of home and the girls we left behind
us, until reveille called to find the drapery of our couch during
the night had been reinforced by winding sheets of drifting snow.
FORT CALHOUN IN THE LATER FIFTIES
By Mrs. E. H. Clark
E. H. Clark came from Indiana in March, 1855, with Judge
James Bradley, and was clerk of the district court in Nebraska
under him. He became interested in Fort Calhoun, then the
county-seat of Washington county. The town company em-
ployed him to survey it into towTi lots, plat the same, and ad-
vertise it. New settlers landed here that spring and lots were
readily sold. In June, 1855, Mr. Clark contracted with the pro-
prietore to put up a building on the townsite for a hotel; said
building to be 24x48 feet, two stories high, with a wing of the
same dimensions; the structure to be of hewn logs and put up
in good style. For this he was to receive one-ninth interest in
the town. Immediately he commenced getting out timber, board-
ing in the meantime with Major Arnold's family, and laboring
under many disadvantages for want of skilled labor and teams,
there being but one span of horses and seven yoke of cattle in
the entire precinct at this time. What lumber was necessary
for the building had to be obtained from Omaha at sixty dollars
per thousand and hauled a circuitous route by the old Mormon
trail. As an additional incident to his trials, one morning at
breakfast Mr. Clark was told by Mrs. Arnold that the last mouth-
ful was on the table. Major Arnold was absent for supplies and
delayed, supposedly for lack of conveyance; whereupon Mr.
Clark procured two yoke of oxen and started at once for Oma-
ha for provisions and lumber. Never having driven oxen before
he met with many mishaps. By traveling all night through
rain and mud he reached sight of home next day at sunrise,
when the oxen ran away upsetting the lumber and scattering
groceries all over the prairies. Little was recovered except some
bacon and a barrel of flour.
Finally the hotel was ready for occupancy and Col. George
Stevens with his family took up their residence there. It was
the best hostelry in the west. Mr. Stevens was appointed post-
master and gave up one room to the office. The Stevens family
were very popular everywhere.
Mr. and Mrs. John B. Kuony were married at the Douglas
house, Omaha, about 1855 and came to the new hotel as cooks ;
but soon afterward started a small store which in due time made
293
294 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
them a fortune. This couple were also popular in business, as
well as socially.
In March, 1856, my husband sent to Indiana for me. I went
to St. Louis by train, then by boat to Omaha. I was three weeks
on the boat, and had my gold watch and chain stolen from my
cabin enroute. I brought a set of china dishes which were a
family heirloom, clothes and bedding. The boxes containing
these things we afterward used for table and lounge. My hus^
band had a small log cabin ready on my arrival.
I was met at Omaha by Thomas J. Allen with a wagon and
ox team. He hauled building material and provisions and I sat
on a nail keg all the way out. He drove through prairie grass
as high as the oxen 's back. I asked him how he ever learned the
road. When a boat would come up the river every one would
rush to buy furniture and provisions; I got a rocking chair in
1857, the first one in the town. It was loaned out to sick folks
and proved a treasure. In 1858 we bought a clock of John
Bauman of Omaha, paying $45.00 for it, and it is still a perfect
time piece.
My father, Dr. J. P. Andrews, came in the spring of 1857 and
was a practicing physician, also a minister for many years here.
He was the first Sunday school superintendent here and held
that office continually until 1880 when he moved to Blair.
In 1858 the Vanier brothers started a steam grist mill which
was a great convenience for early settlers. In 1861 Elam Clark
took it on a mortgage and ran it for many years. Mr. Clark
also carried on a large fur trade with the Indians, and they
would go east to the bottoms to hunt and camp for two or three
weeks.
At one time I had planned a dinner party and invited all my
lady friends. I prepared the best meal possible for those days,
with my china set all in place and was very proud to see it all
spread, and when just ready to invite my guests to the table, a
big Indian appeared in the doorway and said, "hungry" in
broken accents. I said, "Yes I get you some" and started to
the stove but he said, ' ' No, ' ' and pointed to the table. I brought
a generous helping in a plate but he walked out doors, gave a
shrill yell which brought several others of his tribe and they
at once sat down, ate everything in sight, while the guests
looked on in fear and trembling; having finished they left in
great glee.
SOME ITEMS FROM WASHINGTON COUNTY
By Mrs. May Allen Lazube
Alfred D. Jones, the first postmaster of Omaha, tells in the
Pioneer Record of the first Fourth of July celebration in Ne-
braska.
"On July 4, 1854, I was employed in the work of surveying
the townsite of Omaha. At this time there were only two
cabins on the townsite, my postofiice building and the company
claim house. The latter was used as our boarding house. Inas-
much as the Fourth would be a holiday, I concluded it would be
a novelty to hold a celebration on Nebraska soil. I therefore
announced that we would hold a celebration and invited the
people of Council Bluffs, by inserting a notice in the Council
Bluffs paper, and requested that those who would participate
should prepare a lunch for the occasion.
"We got forked stakes and poles along the river, borrowed
bolts of sheeting from the store of James A. Jackson ; and thus
equipped we erected an awning to shelter from the sun those
who attended. Anvils were procured, powder purchased and
placed in charge of cautious gunners, to make a noise for the
crowd. The celebration was held on the present high school
grounds.
"The picnickers came with their baskets, and the gunner dis-
charged his duty nobly. A stranger, in our midst, was intro-
duced as Mr. Sawyer, an ex-congressman from Ohio."
I had a life-long acquaintance with one of those early pie-
nickers, Mrs. Rhoda Craig, a daughter of Thomas Allen, who
built the first house in Omaha. Mi-s. Craig was the first white
girl to live on the site of Omaha. She often told the story of
that Fourth of July in Omaha. Their fear of the Indians was so
great that as soon as dinner was over, they hurried to their
boats and rowed across to Council Bluffs for safety.
Another pioneer woman was Aimee Taggart Kenny, who came
to Fontenelle with her parents when a small child. Her father
was a Baptist missionary in Nebraska, and his earliest work was
296 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
with the Quincy colony. I have heard her tell the following
experience :
' ' On several occasions we were warned that the Indians were
about to attack us. In great fear, we gathered in the school-
house and watched all night, the men all well armed. But we
were never molested. Another time mother was alone Math us
children. Seeing the Indians approaching we locked the doors,
went into the attic by means of an outside ladder and looked
out through a crack. "We saw the red men try the door, peep
in at the windows, and then busy themselves chewing up
mother's home-made hop-yeast, which had been spread out to
dry. They made it into balls and tossed it all away."
John T. Bell of Newberg, Oregon, contributed the following:
"I have a pleasant recollection of your grandfather Allen.
My father's and mother's people were all southerners and there
was a kindliness about Mr. and Mrs. Allen that reminded me of
our own folks back in Illinois. I often stopped to see them
when going to and from the Calhoun mill.
"I was also well acquainted with Mrs. E. H. Clark, and Rev.
Mr. Taggart and his family were among the most highly es-
teemed residents of our little settlement of Fontenelle. Mr.
Taggart was a man of fine humor. It was the custom in those
early days for the entire community to get together on New
Year's day and have a dinner at 'The College.' There would
be speeehmaking, and I remember that on one of these occasions
Mr. Taggart said that no doubt the time would come when we
would all know each others' real names and why we left the
"The experiences of the Bell family in the early Nebraska
days were ones of privation. We came to Nebraska in 1856
quite well equipped with stock, four good horses, and four young
cows which we had driven behind the wagon from western II-
inois. The previous winter had been very mild and none of the
settlers were prepared for the dreadful snow storm which came
on the last day of November and continued for three days and
nights. Our horses and cows were in a stable made by squaring
up the head of a small gulch and covering the structure with
slough grass. At the end of the storm when father could get out
to look after the stock there was no sign of the stable. The low
ground it occupied was levelled off by many feet of snow. He
ITEMS FROM WASHINGTON COUNTY 297
finally located the roof and found the stock alive and that was
about all. The animals suffered greatly that winter and when
spring came we had left only one horse and no cows. That lone
horse was picking the early grass when he was bitten in the nose
by a rattlesnake and died from the effects. One of those horses,
'Old Fox,' was a noble character. "We had owned him as long
as I could remember, and when he died we children all cried.
I have since owned a good many horses but not one equalled Old
Fox in the qualities that go to make up a perfect creature.
"After the civil war my brother Will and I were the only
members of our family left in Nebraska. We served with Grant
and Sherman and then went back to Fontenelle, soon afterward
beginning the improvement of our farm on Bell creek in the
western part of the county. By that time conditions had so im-
proved in Nebraska that hardships were not so common. I was
interested in tree planting even as a boy and one of the distinct
recollections of our first summer in Nebraska was getting so se-
verely poisoned in the woods on the Elkhom when digging up
young sprouts, that I was entirely blind. A colored man living
in Fontenelle told father that white paint would cure me and so
I was painted wherever there was a breaking out, with satisfac-
tory results.
"Later the planting of cottonwood, box elder, maple, and
other trees became a general industry in Nebraska and I am
confident that I planted twenty thousand trees, chiefly cotton-
wood. To J. Sterling Morton, one of Nebraska's earliest and
most useful citizens, Nebraska owes a debt of gratitude. He
was persistent in advocating the planting of trees. In his office
hung a picture of an oak tree; on his personal cards was a pic-
ture of an oak tree with the legend 'Plant Trees'; on his letter-
heads, on his envelopes was borne the same injunction and the
picture of an oak tree. On the marble doorstep of his home
was cut a picture of an oak tree and the words 'Plant Trees';
on the ground-glass of the entrance door was the same emblem.
I went to a theater he had built and on the drop curtain was a
picture of an oak tree and the words 'Plant Trees.' Today the
body of this useful citizen lies buried under the trees he planted
in Wyuka cemetery, near Nebraska City."
COUNTY SEAT OF WASHINGTON COUNTY
By Frank McNeely
In 1855 an act was passed by the territorial legislature reor-
ganizing Washington county and designating Port Calhoun as
the county-seat.
De Soto, a small village five miles north of Fort Calhoun,
wished the county-seat to be moved there. In the winter of
1858 a crowd of De Soto citizens organized and with arms went
to Fort Calhoun to take the county-seat by force. Fort Calhoun
citizens barricaded themselves in the log courthouse and held off
the De Soto band until the afternoon of the second day, when
by compromise, the county-seat was turned over to De Soto.
One man was killed in this contest, in which I was a participant.
The county-seat remained in De Soto until an election in the
fall of 1866 when the vote of the people relocated it at Fort
Calhoun, where it remained until 1869. An election in the lat-
ter year made Blair the county seat.
A courthouse was built in Blair, the present county-seat of
Washington county, in 1889, at a cost of $50,000.
Note — In the early days every new town, and they were all
new, was ambitious to become the county-seat and many of them
hopefully sought the honor of becoming the capital of the terri-
tory. Washington county had its full share of aspiring towns
and most of them really got beyond the paper stage. There
were De Soto, Fort Calhoun, Rockport, Cuming City, and last but
not least — Fontenelle, then in Washington county, now a ' ' de-
serted village" in Dodge county. Of these only Fort Calhoun
remains more than a memory. De Soto was founded by Potter
C. Sullivan and others in 1854, and in 1857 had about five hun-
dred population. It began to go down in 1859, and when the
city of Blair was started its decline was rapid. Rockport, which
was in the vicinity of the fur trading establishments of early
days, was a steamboat landing of some importance and had at
one time a population of half a hundred or more. Now only the
beautiful landscape remains. Cuming City, like De Soto, re-
ceived its death blow when Blair was founded, and now the
townsite is given over to agricultural purposes.
THE STORY OF THE TOWN OP FONTENELLE
By Mes. Eda Mead
When Nebraska was first organized as a territory, a party of
people in Quincy, Illinois, conceived the idea of starting a city
in the new territory and thus making their fortune. They ac-
cordingly sent out a party of men to select a site.
These men reached Omaiia in 1854. There they met Logan
Fontenelle, chief of the Omahas, who held the land along the
Platte and Elkhom rivers. He agreed to direct them to a place
favorable for a town. Upon reaching the spot, where the pres-
ent village is now situated, they were so pleased that they did
not look farther, but paid the chief one hundred dollars for the
right to claim and locate twenty square miles of land. This con-
sisted of land adjoining the Elkhom river, then ascending a high
bluff, a tableland ideal for the location of the town.
These men thought the Elkhorn was navigable and that they
could ship their goods from Quincy by way of the Missouri,
Platte, and Elkhorn rivers.
Early in the spring of 1855 a number of the colonists, bring-
ing their household goods, left Quincy on a small boat, the
' ' Mary Cole, ' ' expecting to reach Fontenelle by way of the Elk-
horn ; and then use the boat as a packet to points on the Platte
and Elkhom rivers.
But the boat struck a snag in the Missouri and, with a part of
the cargo, was lost. The colonists then took what was saved
overland to Fontenelle.
By the first of May, 1855, there were sufficient colonists on
the site to hold the claims. Then each of the fifty members
drew by lot for the eighteen lots each one was to hold. The first
choice fell to W. H. Davis. He chose the land along the river,
fully convinced of its superior situation as a steamboat landing.
The colonists then built houses of cottonwood timber, and a
store and hotel were started. Thus the little town of about two
hundred inhabitants was started with great hopes of soon be-
coming a large city.
300 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
Land on the edge of the bluff had been set aside for a college
building. This was called Collegeview. Here a building was
begun in 1856 and completed in 1859. This was the first ad-
vanced educational institution to be chartered west of the Mis-
souri river.
In 1865 this building was burned. Another building was im-
mediately erected, but after a few years' struggle for patronage,
they fouud it was doomed to die, so negotiated with the people
of Crete, Nebraska, and the Congregational organizations (for
it was built by the Congregationalists) in Nebraska. It there-
fore became the nucleus of what is now Doane College.
The bell of the old building is still in use in the little village.
The first religious services were held by the Congregational-
ists. The church was first organized by Rev. Reuben Gaylord,
who also organized the First Congregational church in Omaha.
In Fontenelle the Congregationalists did not have a building
but worshiped in the college. This church has long since ceased
to exist, but strange as it may seem after so many years, the last
regular pastor was the same man, Rev. Reuben Graylord, who or-
ganized it.
There was a little band of fifteen Methodists; this was called
the Fontenelle Mission. In 1857 an evangelist, Jerome Spill-
man, was sent to take charge of this little mission. He soon
had a membership of about three score people. A church was
organized and a building and parsonage completed. This pros-
pered with the town, but as the village began to lose ground the
church was doomed to die. The building stood vacant for a
niunber of years but was finally moved to Arlington.
The settlers found the first winter of 1855-56 mild and agree-
able. They thought that this was a sample of the regular win-
ter climate; so when the cold, blizzardy, deep-snow winter of
1856-57 came it found the majority ill prepared. Many were
living in log cabins which had been built only for temporary
use. The roofs were full of holes and just the dirt for floors.
On awaking in the morning after the first blizzard many
found their homes drifted full of snow ; even the beds were cov-
ered. The snow lay four or five feet deep on the level and the
temperature was far below zero.
Most of the settlers lost all of their stock. Food was scarce,
but wild game was plentiful. Mr. Sam Francis would take his
STORY OF THE TOWN OF FONTENELLE 301
horse and gun and hunt along the river. The settlers say he
might be seen many times that winter coming into the village
with two deer tied to his horse's tail trailing in the snow. By
this means, he saved many of the colonists from starvation.
Provisions were very high priced. Potatoes brought four and
five dollars a bushel; bacon and pork could not be had at any
price. One settler is said to have sold a small hog for forty-five
dollars; with this he bought eighty acres of land, which is today
worth almost one hundred eighty dollars an acre.
A sack of flour cost from ten to fifteen dollars.
At this time many who had come just for speculation left,
thus only the homebuilders or those who had spent their all and
could not return, remained.
Then came trouble with the Indians. In the year 1859 the
Pawnees were not paid by the government, for some reason.
They became desperate and began stealing cattle from the set-
tlers along the Elkhom around Fontenelle. The settlers of
Pontenelle formed a company known as the "Fontenelle Mount-
ed Rangers, ' ' and together with a company sent out by Governor
Black from Omaha with one piece of light artillery, started after
the Pawnees who were traveling west and north.
They captured six prisoners and held them bound. While
thej' were camped for rest, a squaw in some way gave a knife to
one of the prisoners. He pretended to kill himself by cutting
his breast and mouth so that he bled freely. He then dropped
as if dead. Amidst the confusion the other five, whose ropes
had been cut, supposedly by this same squaw, escaped.
As the settlers were breaking camp to still pursue the fleeing
tribe, they wondered what to do with the dead Indian. Some-
one expressed doubt as to his really being dead. Then one of
the settlers raised his gun and said he would soon make sure.
No sooner had the gun been aimed than the Indian jumped to
his feet and said, ' ' Whoof ! Me no sick ! ' ' They then journeyed
on to attack the main tribe. When near their camp the settlers
formed a semi-circle on a hill, with the artillery in the center.
As soon as the Indians saw the settlers, they came riding as
SAviftly as possible to make an attack, but when within a short
distance and before the leader of the settlers could call ' ' Fire ! ' '
they retreated. They advanced and retreated in this way three
times. The settlers were at a loss to understand just what the
302 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
Indians intended to do; but decided that they did not know of
the artillery until near enough to see it, then were afraid to
make the attack, so tried to scare the settlers, but failing to do
this they finally advanced with a white rag tied to a stick.
The Indians agreed to be peaceable and stop the thieving if the
settlers would pay for a pony which had been accidentally killed,
and give them medicine for the sick and wounded.
Some of the men who took part in this fight say that if the
leader had ordered the settlers to fire on the fii^st advance of the
Indians every settler would have been killed. There were twice
as many Indians in the first place and the settlers afterwards
found that not more than one-third of their guns would work;
and after they had fired once, while they were reloading, the
Indians with their bows and arrows would have exterminated
them. They consider it was the one piece of light artilleiy that
saved them, as the Indians were very much afraid of a cannon.
This ended any serious Indian trouble, but the housewives had
to be ever on the alert for many years.
Each spring either the Omahaa or Pawnees passed through the
village on their way to visit some other tribe, and then returned
in the fall. Then through the winter stray bands would appear
who had been hunting or fishing along the river.
As they were seen approaching everything that could be was
put under lock, and the doors of the houses were securely fas-
tened. The Indians would wash and comb their hair at the water
troughs, then gather everything about the yard that took their
fancy. If by any chance they got into a house they would help
themselves to eatables and if they could not find enough they
would demand more. They made a queer procession as they
passed along the street. The bucks on the horses or ponies led
the way, then would follow the pack ^ponies, with long poles
fastened to each side and trailing along behind loaded with the
baggage, then came the squaws, with their babies fastened to
their backs, trudging along behind.
One early settler tells of her first experience with the Indians.
She had just come from the far East, and was all alone in the
house, when the door opened and three Indians entered, a buck
and two squaws. They closed the door and placed their guns
behind it, to show her that they would not harm her. They then
went to the stove and seated themselves, making signs to her that
STORY OF THE TOWN OF FONTENELLE 303
they wanted more fire. She made a very hot fire in the cook
stove.
The old fellow examined the stove until he found the oven
door; this he opened and took three frozen fish from under his
blanket and placed them upon the gi'ate. While the fish were
cooking, he made signs for something to eat. The lady said she
only had bread and sorghum in the house. This she gave them,
but the Indian was not satisfied ; he made a fuss until she finally
found that he wanted butter on his bread. She had to show
him that the sorghum was all she had. They then took up the
fish and went out of doors by the side of the house to eat it.
After they were gone she went out to see what they had left.
She said they must have eaten every bit of the fish except the
hard bone in the head, that was all that was left and that was
picked clean.
Among the first settlers who came in 1855 was a young Ger-
man who was an orphan and had had a hard life in America up
to this time.
He took a claim and worked hard for a few years. He then
went back to Quincy and persuaded a number of his own coun-
trymen to come out to this new place and take claims, he help-
ing them out, but they were to pay him back as they could.
Years passed ; they each and all became very prosperous. But
this first pioneer prospered perhaps to the greatest degree. The
early settlers moved away one by one ; as they left he would buy
their homes.
The houses were torn down or moved away, the trees and
shrubs were uprooted, until now this one man, or his heire —
for he has gone to his reward — owns almost the whole of the
once prosperous little village, and vast fields of grain have taken
the place of the homes and streets.
It is hard to stand in the streets of the little village which now
has about one hundred fifty inhabitants and believe that at one
time it was the county seat of Dodge county, and that it lacked
only one vote of becoming the capital of the state. There are
left only two or three of the first buildings. A short distance
south of this village on a high bluff overlooking the river valley,
and covered with oaks and evergreens, these early pioneers
started a city which has grown for many years, and which will
continue to grow for years to come. In this city of the dead we
304 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
find many of the people who did much for the little village
which failed, but who have taken up their abode in this beauti-
ful spot, there to remain until the end of time.
This story of Fontenelle has been gathered from my early
recollections of the place and what I have learned through
grandparents, parents, and other relatives and friends.
My mother was raised in Fontenelle, coming there with her
parents in 1856. She received her education in that first college.
My father was the son of one of the first Congregational mis-
sionaries to be sent there. I received my first schooling in the
little village school.
Mrs. Warren Perry
Eleventh State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of tlie A
Revolution. 1913-1914
THOMAS WILKINSON AND FAMILY
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Wilkinson, early Nebraska settlers,
were of English birth, and came to America when very young.
They met in Illinois and were married in 1859 at Barrington.
They moved to Louisiana, remaining there until the outbreak of
the civil war, when they returned to Illinois for a short time,
and then emigrated to the West, traveling in a covered wagon
and crossing the Missouri river on the ferry. They passed
through Omaha, and arrived at Elk City, Nebraska, July 27,
1864, with their two children, Ida and Emma, who at the pres-
ent time are married and live in Omaha.
Soon after arriving in Elk City, Mr. Wilkinson lost one of
his horses, which at that time was a great misfortune. He pur-
chased another from the United States government, which they
called "Sam" and which remained in the family for many
years.
At one time provisions were so high Mr. Wilkinson traded his
watch for a bushel of potatoes.
At that time land was very cheap and could be bought for from
two to five dollars per acre. The same land is now being held at
two hundred dollars per acre. Labor was scarce, with the excep-
tion of that which could be obtained from the Indians. There
were a large number of Indians in that part of the country, and
the settlers often hired the squaws to shuck corn and cut fire-
wood.
Mrs. Wilkinson has often told of the Indians coming to her
door and demanding com meal or beef. They always wanted
beef and would not accept pork. They would come at night,
look in at the windows, and call for firewater, tobacco, and pro-
visions. Their visits were so frequent that Mrs. Wilkinson soon
mastered much of their language and was able to talk to them
in their own tongue.
Mr. and Mrs. Wilkinson first settled about twenty-five miles
from Omaha on the old military road. During the early days of
their life there, Mrs. Wilkinson made large quantities of butter
305
306 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
for regnlar customers in Omaha. They often arose at three
o'clock, hitched up the lumber wagon, and started for town,
there to dispose of her butter and eggs and return with a supply
of provisions.
As a rule the winters were extremely severe and Mrs. Wilkin-
son has often told of the terrible snow storms which would fill
the chimneys so full of snow it would be impossible to start a
fire, and she would have to bundle the children up in the bed-
clothes and take them to the nearest house to keep from freezing.
During their second year in Nebraska they went farther west
and located at " Timberville, " which is now known as Ames.
There they kept a "ranch house" and often one hundred teams
arrived at one time to remain over night. They would turn
their wagons into an immense corral, build their camp fires, and
rest their stock. These were the "freighters" of the early days,
and generally got their own meals.
During their residence at Elk City, two more children were
born, Nettie and Will.
They continued to live on the farm until the year 1887, when
they moved to Blair, Nebraska, there to rest in their old age.
Mr. Wilkinson died July 18, 1912. He is survived by his
wife, Mrs. Lucy Wilkinson, a son, Wm. W. Wilkinson, and two
daughters, Mrs. J. Fred Smith and Mrs. Herman Shields. Mrs.
George B. Dyball, another daughter, died May 13, 1914.
NIKUMI
By Mrs. Harriet S. MacMurphy
He glanced from the letter in his hand to the Indian woman
sitting in the door of the skin tipi, and the papoose on the
ground beside her, then down the river, his eyes moving on, like
the waters, and seeing some vision of his brain, far distant.
After a time his gaze came back and rested upon the woman and
her babe again.
"If I could take the child," he murmured.
The squaw watched him furtively while she drew the deer
sinew through the pieces of skin from which she was fashioning
a moccasin. She understood, although spoken in English, the
words he was scarce conscious of uttering, and, startled out of
her Indian instinct of assumed inattention, looked at him with
wide-opened eyes, trying to fathom a matter hardly compre-
hended but of great moment to her.
"Take the child" — where, and for what? Was he going to
leave and sail down the great river to the St. Louis whence came
all traders and the soldiers on the boats? Going away again as
he had come to her many seasons ago? "Take the child," her
child and his? Her mouth closed firmly, her eyes darkened and
narrowed, as she stooped suddenly and lifted the child to her
lap; ajid the Indian mother's cunning and watchfulness were
aroused and pitted against the white father's love of his child.
Port Atkinson was the most western post of the line estab-
lished by President Monroe in 1819, after the Louisiana Pur-
chase, to maintain the authority of the United States against
Indian turbulence and British aggression, and had been in ex-
istence about four years before our story opens.
Here had been stationed the Sixth U. S. Infantry, who had
wearily tramped for two months the banks of the Missouri river
and dragged their boats after them, a distance of nearly a thou-
sand miles of river travel to reach this post in the wilderness.
Not a white man then occupied what is now the state of Iowa,
except Julien Dubuque and a score or so of French traders.
307
308 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
Not a road was to be foiind nor a vehicle to traverse it. But
one or two boats other than keel boats and barges had ever over-
come the swift cun-ent of the great Missouri thus far.
The Santa Fe trail, that wound over the hills west of the fort,
connected them with the Mexican Spanish civilization of the
Southwest, and the great rivers with their unsettled land far
away on the Atlantic seaboard.
Seventy-five years ago these soldiers dropped the ropes with
which they had dragged the barges and keel boats and them-
selves thither, and picking up spade and shovel, dug founda-
tions, molded and burned brick, cut down trees, and built bar-
racks for themselves and the three detachments of artillery who
terrified the red-men with the mysterious shells which dropped
down amongst them and burst in such a frightful manner.
They numbered about twelve hundred men, and the bricks
they molded and the cellars they dug still remain to tell of the
Fort Atkinson that was, beside whose ruins now stands the little
village of Fort Calhoun, sixteen miles north of Omaha on the
Missouri river.
Dr. Gale, whom we have thus seen considering a question of
great importance both to himself and to the Indian woman with
whom he seems to have some relation, was the surgeon of the
Sixth Infantry, an Englishman, short, thick-set, and evidently
of good birth, although the marks of his rough life and rather
dissolute habits obscured it in some degree.
The point where Fort Atkinson was built was the noted
"Council Bluff" at which Lewis and Clark held the Indian
council famous in the first annals of western explorations, and
it still remains a rendezvous for the various tribes of Indians,
the "Ottoes, Pawnees, 'Mahas, Ayeaways, and Sioux," attracted
thither by the soldiers and the trading posts, and secure from
each others' attacks on this neutral ground.
Shortly after the troops were located here an Ayeaway (Iowa)
chief and his band pitched their tents near the fort. The daugh-
ter of this chief was named Nikumi ; she was young and had not
been inured to the hard tasks which usually fell to the squaws,
so her figure was straight, her eyes bright, and her manner
showed somewhat the dignity of her position.
Not a white woman was there within a radius of five hundred
miles except a few mai-ried ones belonging to the fort ; was it
NIKUMI 309
strange that Dr. Gale, the younger son of an English family
who had left civilization for a life of adventure in the New
World, and who seemed destined to dwell away from all women
of his own race, should woo this Indian princess and make her
his wife? He had chosen the best of her race, for all who re-
member her in after years speak of her dignified carriage, her
well-formed profile, and her strength of will and purpose, so
remarkable among Indian women.
For four years she had been his wife, and the child she had
just seized and held in her arms as if she would never let her
go, was their child, little Maiy, as her father named her, perhaps
from his own name, Marion.
But now this union, which her unknowing mind had never
surmised might not be for all time, and his, alas, too knowing
one had carelessly assumed while it should be his pleasure, was
about to be severed.
A boat had come up the river and brought mail from Chariton
or La Charette, as the Frenchmen originally named it, several
hundred miles below, and the point to which mail for this fort
was sent.
These uncertain arrivals of news from the outside world made
important epochs in the life of the past. The few papers and
letters were handled as if they had been gold, and the contents
were read and reread until almost worn out. For Dr. Gale
came a bulky letter or package of lettei"s tied together and sealed
over the string with a circle of red wax. There was no envelope,
as we have now, but each letter was written so as to leave a
blank space after folding for the superscription, and the postage
was at least tM'enty-five cents on the three letters so tied to-
gether. The postmark of the outer one was New York City ; it
was from a law firm and infonned Dr. Marion F. Gale, sur-
geon of the Sixth Infantry, stationed at Fort Atkinson, the
"camp on the Missouri river," that the accompanying letters
had been received by them from a firm of London solicitors,
and begging to call his attention to the same. His attention
being most effectually called thereto elicited fii-st that Messrs.
Shadwell & Fitch of London desired them to ascertain the where-
abouts of Marion F. Gale, late of Ipswich, England, and now
supposed to be serving in the U. S. army in the capacity of
surgeon, and convey to him the accompanying information, being
310 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
still further to the effect that by a sudden death of James Bur-
ton Gale, who died without male issue, he, Marion P. Gale, being
next of kin, was heir to the estate of Burton Towers, Ipswich,
England. Last came a letter from the widow of his brother,
telling him the particulars of his brother's death.
Ten years before he had left home with a hundred pounds in
his pocket and his profession, to make himself a career in the
new country.
There were two brothers older than he, one of them married,
and there seemed little prospect that he would ever become pro-
prietor of Burton Towers; but they, who lived apparently in
security, were gone, and he who had traversed the riverway of
an unknown and unsettled country, among Indians and wild
animals, was alive and well to take their place.
He thought of the change, back to the quiet life of an English
country squire, after these ten years of the free life of the plains,
and the soldiers and the Indians. The hunting of the buffalo,
the bear, and the elk exchanged for the tame brush after a wild
fox, or the shooting of a few partridges.
But the family instinct was strong, after all, and his eye
gleamed as he saw the old stone house, with its gables and tow-
ers, its glorious lawns and broad driveway with the elms meeting
overhead. Oh, it would satisfy that part of his nature well to
go back as its master. This vision it was that had filled his eyes
as they looked so far away. But then they came back again and
rested on Nikmni and the child.
A certain kind of love had been begotten in his heart for the
Indian maiden by her devotion to him, although he had taken
her without a scruple at the thought of leaving her when cir-
cumstances called him away. But now he felt a faint twinge
of the heart as he realized that the time had come, and a stronger
one when he thought that he must part with the child. "But
why need I do it?" he soliloquized. "I can take the child with
me and have her educated in a manner to fit her for my daugh-
ter ; if she is as bright as her mother, education and environment
will fit her to fill any position in Life, but with Nikumi it is too
late to begin, and she has no white blood to temper the wildness
of the Indian. I will take the child."
Not a care for the mother love and rights. ' ' Only a squaw. ' '
What rights had she compared with this English gentleman who
NIKUMI 311
had taken her from her tribe, and now would cast her back again
and take away her child? But ah, my English gentleman, you
reckoned without your ordinary sagacity when you settled that
point without taking into consideration the mother love and the
Indian cunning and watchfulness, their heritage from genera-
tions of warfare with each other.
"What have you got?" she asked in the flowing syllables of
the Indian tongue, for like the majority of Indians, though she
understood much English she never, to the end of her days,
deigned to speak it.
"Some words from my friends in the far-away country over
the waters, Nikumi," he answered. "My brother is dead."
"Ah, and you are sad. You will go there to that land?" she
said.
"I don't know, Nikumi; I may have to go over, for there is
much land and houses and fields to be cared for. I am going
down to see Sarpy, now. He came up on the boat today."
She watched him as he strode off down past the cattle station
towards the fort. In the summer time her love of her native life
asserted itself, and she left the log quarters which Dr. Gale pro-
vided for her, and occupied a tipi, or tent of skins, down among
the cottonwoods and willows of the bottom lands where portions
of her tribe were generally to be found. When he passed out
of sight she took her baby and went to a tipi a short distance
from hers, where a stalwart buck lay on a shaggy buffalo robe
on the shady side, smoking a pipe of kinnikiniek, and playing
with some young dogs. She spoke with him a few minutes.
He ceased playing with the dogs, sat up and listened, and finally
with a nod of assent to some request of hers started off towards
the fort. She followed shortly after and glided about from the
post store to the laundresses' quarters, stopping here and there
where groups of soldiers were gathered, and listening attentively
to their talk about the news that had come by the boats.
She learned that these boats were to be loaded with furs from
Sarpy's trading post and go back to St. Louis in a few days.
In the meantime the young buck, who was her brother, had gone
by her directions to Sarpy's trading post, just below the fort.
She had told him what she knew and surmised ; that the ' ' pale-
faced medicine man," as the Indians called him, had received
a paper from his friends across the great waters towards the
312 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
rising suu which told his brother was dead, and that he might
have to go there to care for the houses and lands his brother had
left; that she had heard him say "If I could take the child,"
and she feared he might take her papoose away ; ' ' and he shall
not," she said passionately. "I must know what he will do.
Go you and listen if the medicine man talks with Sarpy ; watch
him closely and find out all. ' '
He had followed the Indian trail which skirted along the edge
of the high bluffs on the eastern boundary of the fort., and
reached the trading post from the north. Going in he uttered
the single word ' ' tobac, ' ' and while the clerk was handing it out
to him he glanced around in the aimless, stolid Indian manner, as
if looking over the blankets and skins hung against the logs.
Back at the further, or southwest, corner of the store, near a
window, and partially screened by a rude desk made of a box
set upon a table and partitioned into piegon-holes, sat two men.
One of them was Dr. Gale, the other, Peter A. Sarpy.
To the ears of most readers the name will convey no particu-
lar impression ; if a resident of Nebraska it would call to mind
the fact that a county in that state was named Sarpy, and the
reader might have a hazy consciousness that an early settler had
borne that name; but in the days of this story and for thirty
years later it meant power and fame. The agent of the Ameri-
can Fur Company in that section, Peter A. Sarpy's word was
law ; to him belonged the trading posts, or so it was believed ; he
commanded the voyageurs who cordelled the boats and they
obeyed. Every winter he went down the great river before it
was frozen over, to St. Louis, and every spring his boats came up
after the ice had broken up, and before the great mountain rise
came on in June, with new goods that were anxiously looked for,
and eagerly seized in exchange for the buffalo robes, the beaver,
mink, otter, and deer skins that had been collected through the
winter. He was of French parentage, a small man, with the
nervous activity of his race ; the brightest of black eyes ; careful
of his dress, even in the \\ilds; the polish of the gentleman al-
ways apparent in his punctilious greeting to everyone; but mak-
ing the air blue with his ejaculations if his orders were dis-
obeyed or his ire aroused. Famous the length of the river for
his bravery and determination, he was a man well fitted to push
NIKUMI 313
actively the interests of the company of which he was the agent
as well as a member.
The Indiaxi passed noiselessly out and going around to the
side of the building seated himself upon the ground, and pulling
his long pipe from the folds of his blanket, filled it with the
"tobac," rested it on the ground, and leisurely began to smoke.
It was no unusual thing for the Indians thus to sit round the
post, and no one took any notice of him, nor in fact that he was
very near the open window, just out of the range of vision of
the two men sitting within.
"So upon me devolves the succession of the estate of Burton
Towers," Gale was saying to Sarpy, "and ray sister-in-law
writes that some one is imperatively needed to look after the
estate as there is no male member of the family left in Eng-
land."
"And you will leave your wild life of the prairies to go back
to the tame existence of rural English life? Egad, I don't be-
lieve I could stand it even to be master of the beautiful de-
mesnes which belong to my family. Power is sweet, but Mon
Dieu, the narrowness, the conventionalities, the tameness of ex-
istence ! ' '
"No worse than the tameness of this cursed fort for the last
year or two. It was very well at first when the country was new
to us and the Indians showed some fight that gave us a little
excitement, but now we've exhausted all the resources, and an
English squire, even, wall be a great improvement. You've some
change, you know. St. Louis in winter gives you a variety. ' '
"What are you going to do with Nikumi and Mary?"
"That's what I want to talk to you about. I find I'm fonder
of the child than I thought, and indeed it gives my heartstrings
a bit of a wrench to leave Nikumi behind ; but to take her is out
of the question. Mary, however, I can educate; she is bright
enough to profit by it, and young enough to make an English
woman of. I believe I shall try to get her away quietly, and
take her with me."
"You ought to have lived here long enough to have some
knowledge of the Indians, but I'm damned if I think you are
smart enough to get that child away from its mother," said
Sarpy.
314 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
"Well, I'll try it, anyway. The worst trouble I apprehend
is getting away myself at so short notice. When do your boats
go down again?"
"In about a week."
' ' To leave the troops without any surgeon is rather risky, but
they're pretty healthy at this sea.son, and young Carver has been
studying with me considerably, and can take my place for a
short time. If I succeed in getting leave of absence to go on to
Washington, Atkinson will probably send some one up from St.
Louis as soon as possible. I shall have to get leave of absence
from Leavenworth here, and then again from Atkinson at St.
Louis. Then I can send in my resignation after I ari-ive at
Philadelphia. All this beside the intermediate hardships and
delays in reaching there."
To the Indian outside much of this was unintelligible, but he
heard and understood perfectly "I think I shall try to get her
away from her mother and take her with me," and later the
reply that the boats would go down in about a week.
That was sufiBcient for him, and he arose, gathered up his
blanket that had dropped down from his shoulders, slipped the
pipe into his belt which held it around his waist, and then his
moccasined feet trod the narrow trail, one over the other, the
great toe straight in a line with the instep, giving the peculiar
gait for which the Indian is famous.
He found Nikumi back at her tipi; the kettle was hung from
the tripod of three sticks over the fire, and a savory smell arose
which he sniffed with pleasure as he approached, for Nikumi
was favored above her tribe in the supplies which she received
from the camp, and which included great luxuries to the In-
dians. Nikumi was very generous to her relatives and friends,
and often shared with them the pot which she had vai-ied
from the original Indian dish of similar origin by diligently ob-
serving the methods of the camp cooks.
She had learned to use dishes, too, and bringing forth two
bowls, some spoons, and a tin cup, ladled some of the savory
mixture into them, for she had evidently learned the same lesson
as her white sisters: when you would get the best service from
a man, feed him well.
On the present site of Fort Atkinson may be found, wherever
the ground is plowed over or the piles of bricks and depressions
NIKUMI 315
that mark the cellars of the buildings are overhauled, a pro-
fusion of old buttons, fragments of firearms, cannon balls and
shells, and many pieces of delf. A quaint old antiquarian who
lives there has a large collection of them which he shows with
delight.
"Who knows but that some of the fragments are piecesi of
Nikumi's bowl, for as her brother told her of Gale's words to
Sarpy, her face added to its bronze hue an indescribable grayish
tinge, and starting suddenly, the bowl fell from her hand, strik-
ing the stones which formed a circle for the fire, and broke into
fragments. She forgot to eat, and a rapid flow of words from
her lips was accompanied by gestures that almost spoke. They
should keep strict watch of the loading of the boats, she said,
and of the voyageurs in charge of them, and when they saw signs
of departure of them, she would take the child and go — and
she pointed, but spoke no word. He must make a little cave in
the hillside, and cover it with trees and boughs, and she would
provide food. When the white medicine man had gone he could
tell her by a strip of red tied in the branch of a tree like a bird,
which could be seen down the ravine from her hiding place, and
she would be found again in her tipi as if she had never been
absent. He grunted assent at well as satisfaction at the innu-
merable bowls of soup, and then stretched himself comfortably
and pulled out his pipe.
Meanwhile little Mary, the heroine of this intrigue, was eat-
ing soup and sucking a bone contentedly. Would she be an In-
dian or an English maiden? She was an Indian one now, and
happy, too. And Nikumi ? She had come to her white husband
and remained with him contented and happy. He had been
good to her in the main, although he swore at her and abused
her sometimes when he got drunk or played at cards too long,
but he was better than the braves were to their squaws, and she
did not have to work as they did; she had wood and food and
she could buy at the trading post the blankets and the stroud-
ing, and the gay red cloths, and the beads with which the squaws
delighted to adorn their necks and to stitch with deer sinew into
their moccasins. She had lived each day unconscious that there
might not be a tomorrow like it. But it had dropped from the
skies, this sudden knowledge that had changed everything.
Had she had no child she would doubtless have mourned si-
316 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
lently for the man who had come and taken her life to be lived
beside his and then left her worse than alone; but the greater
blow had deadened the force of the lesser, and only her outraged
mother love cried out.
She sat on the buffalo robe inside the tipi and watched the
child rolling about outside with the little fat puppy, hugging it
one moment, savagely spatting it over the eyes the next. She
had no right to rebel; an Indian did what he would with his
squaw, how much more a white man, and to any decree concern-
ing herself she would doubtless have submitted silently, but to
lose her child — that she would not do, and she knew how to
save it.
All unconscious of this intrigue, Gale made his preparations
for departure, and it was soon known through the camp that he
was about to go to the ' ' states. ' '
He had taken pains to conceal the fact of his intended final
departure for England.
He secretly made arrangements with the man who acted as
cook for the boats to take charge of little Mary until they got to
St. Louis, where they could get a servant, and going down the
river would take but a few days.
Gale's condition of mind was not to be envied during the in-
terval before he started. He scarcely felt the injustice to Ni-
kumi in thus leaving her, but he could not quite reconcile with
even his weak sense of her rights that he should take the child
away from her, and yet he fully intended to do so. He spent
much of the time with Nikumi at her summer residence, the
tipi, and she treated him with the same gentle deference and
quiet submissiveness that were usual to her, so completely de-
ceiving him that he did not once surmise she knew anything of
his plans. The last two or three days he occupied himself in
packing a case of articles of various kinds that he had accumu-
lated : an Indian pipe of the famous red pipestone of the Sioux
country, with its long flat stem of wood cut out in various de-
signs and decorated with feathers and bits of metal; moccasins
of deer skin, handsomely beaded and trimmed with fringes,
some of them made by Nikumi 's own hands; specimens of the
strange Mexican cloths woven from the plumage of birds, brought
by the trading Mexicans up the Santa Fe trail ; a pair of their
beautiful blankets, one robe, a few very fine furs, among them a
NIKUMI 317
black bear skin of immense size, a little mat woven of the per-
fumed grasses, which the Indians could find but the white man
never, some of the nose and ear rings worn by the squaws.
Nikumi came to his quarters while he was taking these things
down from the walls and shelves where she had always cared for
them with so much pride. In answer to her inquiring gaze he
said: "I go Nikumi, to the far eastern land, and these I shall
take with me to show my friends what we had that is beautiful
in the land of the Indian and the buffalo, that they wish to know
all about. " " And when will you return to Nikumi and Mary ? ' '
' ' I can not tell ; I hope before many moons ; will you grieve to
have me go Nikumi?" "Nikumi will look every day to the
rising sun and ask the Great Spirit to send her pale-faced medi-
cine man back safely to her and the child." He put his arms
about her with a strange spasm of heart relenting, realizing for
a moment the wrong he was purposing to commit. But ah, the
stronger taking advantage of the weaker. The strong race using
for their own pleasure the weak one. "Ye that are strong
ought to help the weak. ' ' He also prepared at Sarpy 's trading
post, and by his advice, a smaller package of such things as
would be desirable for little Mary's welfare and comfort.
It was greatly lacking in the articles we should consider neces-
sary these times, but when we realize that every piece of mer-
chandise which reached this far away post had to be transported
thousands of miles by river it is matter of wonder how much
there was.
The morning of the day before the boats were to start he oc-
cupied himself with some last preparations, giving Nikumi a
number of articles that she had used around his quarters to take
to her tipi, and telling her he would leave money with Sarpy
so that she might get what was necessary for herself and Mary.
In the afternoon he went down to the post and did not return
to the quarters until late, where he supped at the mess table and
then went in the direction of Nikumi 's tent. He had devised,
he thought, a cunning plan to get Nikumi to go the next morn-
ing for some fresh leaves of a shrub which she often procured
for him to mix in his tobacco, and of which he was very fond;
and after her departure he would make for the boat and embark
hastily with little Mary, whom he would keep. Resolving the
broaching of his plan as he approached the tipi, he did not notice
318 NEBRASKA PIONEER BEMINISCENCES
that it failed to show the usual signs of habitation until he drew
uear when he observed that the kettle hanging from the tripod
over the circle of stones had no fire beneath it, and no steam
issuing from it, no dogs were playing about, and there was no
sign of Nikumi and little Mary. He began to look about for
them; the flap of skin usually fastened up to form a doorway
was dropped down ; he put it up and stooping, entered the tipi.
It was almost entirely empty; the skins which had formed the
beds were gone; the dishes seemed to be there, but the food of
which he knew she always kept a supply, was all gone, and
there were no signs of the articles of clothing belonging to them.
Sarpy's words come to him, "I'm damned if I think you are
smart enough to get the child away from its mother," and he
knew that Nikumi had outwitted him. He should never see
mother or child again.
He turned and traced angrily the narrow trail to Sarpy's.
Striding in and down the low, dingy, fur odorous room to the
rear where Sarpy sat lazily smoking his pipe he exclaimed,
"You were right, Sarpy, Nikumi has gone with the child."
Sarpy took his pipe from his mouth slowly, "Well I'm sorry
you are disappointed, but it will be better for you and the child,
too; she would have grieved herself to death, and worried you
almost to the verge of lunacy first, and you would have had the
burden on your conscience of Nikumi unhappy, and all for no
good." "But I'll not give her up. I had set my heart on it;
I shall start a search party for her at once. " " And much good
it will do you. There isn't a soldier in your camp that can find
what an Indian chooses to hide, if it is not more than six feet
away from him. You will only inform the camp of your design
and of the fact that a squaw has outwitted you. ' '
Gale knew too well the truth of his statement, but he paced
up and down the building angrily for some time, determining
at each turn towards the door to start out at the head of a search
party, but turning again with an oath toward the rear as the
futility of it all was forced upon him.
Sarpy regarded him quietly, a half smile in his eyes. He
understood the conflict of feelings, the pain at leaving Nikumi,
not very great, but enough to cause him some discomfort; the
now added pain of separation from the child, also ; the chagrin
at being outwitted by a squaw, and one who had always seemed
NIKUMI 319
so submissive, and whom he had not dreamed possessed so much
aeuteness; the English obstinacy aroused by antagonism, all
struggling against his knowledge that he could do nothing.
Sarpy in his place would have invoked all the spirits of the
darker regions, but he probably would never have put himself
in a like predicament. To his class, seekers of fortunes in the
New World, the Indian was simply a source of revenue and
pleasure, treated fairly well to be sure, because that was the
better policy ; while it suited their convenience to use them they
did so ; when the need was supplied they cast them off ; possibly
Gale, if he analyzed the situation at all, thought the same, but
under the present circumstances, a different set of emotions
dominated him. Nikumi, superior to her tribe, had inspired
inconveniently deep feelings, and he found his fatherly love a
factor he had not counted on.
At last he approached Sarpy, and throwing himself in a chair,
took out one of the two great soothers of man's woes, his pipe,
lighted it and proceeded to mingle its smoke with that of Sar-
py 's. "I suppose I shall have to give it up, but I 'm damned if
I can submit to it with equanimity, yet ; outwitted by an ap-
parently innocent and submissive squaw, I suppose two months
from now I'll be thanking my lucky stars that I'm not saddled
with a brat of an Indian, and at intervals thereafter shall be
falling upon my knees, and repeating the operation. But I'm
blessed if I can see it so now."
"Yes it will be better for you as well as the others, and as
soon aa you get away from here you will view it very differ-
ently," said Sarpy.
And Nikumi in her cave dug into the bluff, held her baby
tight in her arms, and listened to every sound, while she watched
by aid of the rude but cunningly devised dark lantern, the
reptiles and insects which crawled about, moving only to dis-
patch a snake or two that were venomous.
Could Gale have seen her would he have relented and left the
child to her? Has it been the history of the union of the strong-
er and weaker races that the stronger have given up their de-
sires ?
"You will have to look out for Mary, too. Sai-py, as you have
promised to do for Nikiimi. I haven 't any more money to leave
with you at present, but I vdU send you some from England.
320 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
I don't want her to grow up without any education at all, and
have to slave and toil as squaws do generally, nor Nikumi eith-
er." "I '11 see to them, ' ' said Sarpy, briefly, ' ' there isn 't much
chance for education unless they keep up the post here and she
be permitted to learn with the white children ; for I don 't sup-
pose Nikumi will ever let her go away to school as Pontenelle
sends his boys, but she shall have what education she can get
and Nikumi shall not be obliged to go back to her tribe for sup-
port as long as I am here," and the smoke of the Frenchman's
and Englishman's pipes ascended to ratify this compact.
The next day at sunrise the boats dropped swiftly down the
river. A figure at the stem of one of them watched until the
last sign of the landing place faded in the early morning light.
Dr. Gale had played a brief part in the settlement of a new
country from which he now disappeared as if he had never
been.
In after yeare only the few who belonged to that early set-
tlement remembered that Mary was his child, and told of it
sometimes, when they recounted the adventuroiis life of those
early days. A young man listened to these reminiscences from
the lips of the strange, irascible, but warm hearted Frenchman,
and treasured them in memory. Hence this true tale. Nikumi
released from her reptile inhabited cave by the little red bird in
the tree down the ravine, came back to her tipi. She had kept
her child but she had lost her lover and her life. How should
she take it up again? She had been always quiet and little
given to the chatter and laughter of the young squaws; she was
only a little more quiet now, and Mary's lot was decided; she
would always be an Indian woman.
One day Sarpy came to her and told her that Gale had left
money for her and she was to come to the fort for what she
wished. And after a time it came to pass that Sarpy took
her to wife as Gale had done. Perhaps that was in his mind
when he looked at Gale with a smile in his eyes; but Nikumi
would not listen to him till she had waited long, and until Sarpy
told her and she heard from others that Gale would never come
again. And she was his faithful wife for many years, occupy-
ing always, because of her inherent dignity and real womanliness,
a position high in the estimation both of the white and the red
men. Many tales are told of her life with Sarpy, how at one
NIKUMI 321
time she carried him miles on her back when he was stricken
with fever in the mountains, until she brought him to aid and
safety. Another time when he had given orders that no more
goods should be given her from the post (she was always very
liberal to her relatives and he wished to check it) she quietly
picked up two or three bolts of calico, and walking to the river
bank, threw them in ; a second armful followed, and then the
enemy capitulated. And still another time when Sarpy had
bought a beautiful black mare, "Starlight," to minister to the
pleasure of a designing English widow, she one day quietly ap-
peared when the horse was driven round by Sarpy's black ser-
vant, and ordered it taken to the stable, and enforced the or-
der, too. But this is another story.
In later years, as Sarpy's dominion ceased with the gradual
decline of the fur company, and he spent much of his time
in St. Louis, Nikumi lived with Mary, who had married an In-
dian like herself, with a mixture of white blood in his veins,
although he was French, and who occupied a prominent posi-
tion in one of the tribes to whom was given a distinct reserva-
tion. Prom this mixture of English, French, and Indian bloods
has arisen a family which stands at the head of their tribe, and
one member who is known throughout this country. It is worthy
of notice, too, that with one exception it has been the women
of the family who have shown the qualities which gave them
preeminence.
Nikumi died March 23, 1888, at the home of her daughter
Mary ; but her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren
live to show that sometimes the mixture of races tends to develop-
ment of the virtues, and not, as has been so often said, of the
vices of both races.
THE HEROINE OF THE JULES-SLADE TRAGEDY
By Mks. Haeriet S. MacMurphy
Our two weeks ' ride over Iowa prairies was ended and we had
reached our new home in Nebraska. I sat in the buggy, a child
of twelve, with my three-year-old brother beside me, on the
eastern bank of the Missouri river, while father went down
where the ferry boat lay, to make ready for our crossing.
In the doorway of a log cabin near by stood a young girl two
or three years older than I. We gazed at each other shyly. She
M^as bare-headed and bare-footed, her cheeks tanned, and her
abundant black hair roughened with the wind, but her eyes were
dark and her figure had the grace of untrammeled out door
life. To my girl's standard she did not appeal, and I had not
then the faintest conception of the romance and tragedy of
which she was the heroine.
We gazed at each other until father gave the signal for me to
drive down on the clumsy raft-like boat behind the covered
half-wagon half-carriage that held the other members of our
family, which I did in fear and trembling that did not cease
until we had swung in and out as the boat strained at the rope
to which it was attached, the waters of the "Old Muddy," the
like of which I had never seen before, straining and drawing it
down with the current, and a fresh spasm of fear was added
as we reached the far shore and dropped off the boat with a
thud down into the soft bank. We had reached Decatur, our
future Nebraska home, adjoining the Indian reservation with
its thousand Omahas.
For a long time I did not know anything further of the girl
of the log cabin by the river side, only that they told us the
family were named Keyou and the men were boatmen and fish-
ermen and ran the ferry. This first chapter of my little story
opened in the spring of 1863.
Six years later my girlhood's romance brought marriage with
my home-coming soldier, who in his first days in the territory
of Nebraska had passed through many of the romantic events
. HEROINE OF JULES-SLADE TRAGEDY 323
that a life among the Indians would bring, among them clerk-
ing in a trading post with one "Billy" Becksted, now the hus-
band of my maiden of the riverside log cabin. And Billy and
John always continued the comradeship of the free, happy,
prairie hunting life, riding the "buckskin" ponies with which
they began life together, although they came together from
very different walks of life.
And I learned of my husband that "Addie," as we had
learned to call her, young as she was when first I saw her, had
been the wife of a Frenchman named Jules, after whom the town
of Julesburg (Colorado) is named, and his dreadful death at
the hands of one Slade was one of the stock stories of the plains
well known to every early settler.
Billy and Addie after a time drifted away from Decatur down
the river and we lost sight of them.
We, too, left the home town and became residents of Platts-
mouth.
One day my husband, returning from a trip in the country
said, "I ran across Billy and Addie Becksted today and they
were so glad to see me that Addie put her arms round me and
kissed me, with tears in her eyes. ' ' Later we learned with sor-
row that Billy was drinking and then that he had come down
to Plattsmouth and tried to find my husband, who was out of
town and had gone back home and when almost there had taken
a dose of morphine, and they had found him unconscious and
dying near their log cabin under the bluffs half a mile above
the Bellevue station. And my husband really mourned that he
had not been at home, perhaps to have kept good-hearted Billy
from his woeful fate. After a time Addie married Elton, a
brother of Billy's, and one Sunday I persuaded my husband to
go down to them in their cabin under the bluffs.
"I have always wanted to get Addie to tell me her story of
her life with Jules," I said.
"I don't believe you can get her to talk about it," said Mac,
"she never speaks of it, Elton says."
We went, and they were delighted to see us, killed the fatted
chicken and gathered for us some of the wild berries that grew
in the bluffs, and then as we sat under the trees with the bluff
towering above us, I asked her for the story of her girlhood's
days out on the plains, when only a single house that sheltered
324 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
three or four people was her home, and not another for many
miles.
"I was just a child," she said, "and Jules was more like my
father than my husband. But there were few women in the
country in those days and Jules said to my parents that he
would take good care of me, and so they gave me to him, and
they went on to Denver. He had a man and his wife to take care
of the place and do the work, and I just did whatever I wanted
to. "We were on the great trail to California and Pike's Peak
and trains would come by and purchase supplies from us, so I
did not get lonesome. Jules had had some trouble with a man
named Slade a few years before and had shot Slade, but had
taken him to Denver and put him in a hospital and paid to have
him cared for and Slade and he had made it all up, my husband
thought. Slade 's ranch was further west and on the other side
of his ranch Jules had another ranch with cattle on, and one
day he started oflf with two or three men to bring some of the
cattle back. He had been told that Slade had threatened to
kill him but he did not believe it, although he went armed and
with good men, he thought. This time he did not take me
along as he had the cattle to drive. When he got near Slade 's
place Slade and his gang came down on Jules and his men,
shouting and shooting, drove off Jules' men, took him and car-
ried him to Slade 's ranch. One of Jules' men followed them
and saw them tie Jules up to a great box and then Slade stood
a ways off with his rifle and shot at Jules, just missing his
ear or his neck or his hand that was stretched out and tied;
sometimes hitting him just enough to draw the blood. He kept
this up all the rest of the day and then towards night he fired
a shot that killed him. The boys who were with Jules came
back to us and told us what had been done. We were so fright-
ened we did not know what to do at first, for we expected every
minute that Slade and his gang would come and kill us. They
did come the next day and carried off a lot of the stuff we had
in the trading post but did not do any harm to us. The man
and his wife that were with us and the boys then got a team
together and put enough stuff into the wagon to do us until we
could get to Denver. All the rest and the cattle I guess Slade
got. Jules had money in some bank in Denver, he had always
said, but we never could find it. I found my folks and after a
HEROINE OF JULES-SLADE TRAGEDY 325
while we came back here where we had lived before we went to
Denver. ' '
She told her story in the simplest commonplace manner, but
it did not need any addition of word or gesture to paint on my
memory for all time the pathos beneath.
A girl of fourteen, happy and eare-free under the protection
of her father husband one day, putting him in the place of
father, and mother, trusting to him, and suddenly standing be-
side the rude trading post way out on the treeless spaces of the
trail that seemed to come from solitude and lead away to it
again, and listening to the story of the frightened cow-boy on his
broncho whose almost unintelligible words finally made her un-
derstand that her protector, the kind man she had learned to
love, had died a death so horrible it would make the strongest
man shudder. And with only three or four frightened, irre-
sponsible people to save her, perhaps from a similar or worse
fate? But the women of the plains had but little childhood,
and must act the part that came to them no matter what it
might be.
Afterward she told me more of her strange life with Jules, of
his fatherly, protecting care of her, of his good heart, of the
trouble with Slade, which was Slade's fault in the first place,
and it was plain to see the ideal that had always been cherished
way down in her subconsciousness of the man who played such
an eventful but brief part in her life. It was a wrong, perhaps,
but natural feeling to have when I found by after reading of
annals of the plains that Slade died the death that such a fiend-
ish nature should have suffered.
Addie Becksted still lives in a little cabin down among the
hills about Bellevue, her children and grandchildren about her,
and still bears traces of the beauty that was hers as a girl. She
is only about ten miles distant from Omaha but has not visited
it for years.
When I go to see her, as I do occasionally, she puts her arms
about me and kisses me on the cheek. And her still bright
brown eyes look the affection of all the years and events that we
have known together.
It is well worth while to have these humble friends who have
lived through the pioneer days with us.
THE LAST ROaiANTIC BUFFALO HUNT ON THE
PLAINS OF NEBRASKA
By John Lee Webstek
In the autumn of 1872 a group of men, some of whom were
then prominent in Nebraska history, Judge Elmer S. Dundy and
Colonel Watson B. Smith, and one who afterward achieved
national fame as an American explorer, Lieutenant Frederick
Schwatka, and another who has since become known throughout
Europe and America as a picturesque character and showman,
Colonel Wm. F. Cody, participated in what proved to be the
last romantic buffalo hunt upon the western plains of the state
of Nebraska.
Elmer S. Dundy was a pioneer who had come to Nebraska in
1857. He had been a member of the territorial legislature for
two successive terms; he was appointed a territorial judge in
1863, and became the first United States district judge after the
admission of the state into the union. Colonel Watson B. Smith
at that time held the office of clerk of the United States district
and circuit courts for the district of Nebraska. Some years
afterward he met a tragic death by being shot (accidentally or
by assassination) in the corridors of the federal building in the
city of Omaha. Colonel Smith was a lovable man, of the highest
unimpeachable integrity and a most efficient public officer. There
was also among the number James Neville, who at that time held
the office of United States attorney and who afterward became
a judge of the district court of Douglas county. He added
zest, vim, and spirit by reason of some personal peculiarities to
be mentioned later on.
These men, with the writer of this sketch, were anxious to
have the experience and the enjoyment of the stimulating ex-
citement of participating in a buffalo hunt before those native
wild animals of the plans should become entirely extinct. To
them it was to be a romantic incident in their lives and long to
be remembered as an event of pioneer days. They enjoyed the
luxury of a pullman car from Omaha to North Platte, which at
LAST EOMANTIC BUFFALO HUNT 327
that time was little more than a railway station at a division
point upon the Union Pacific, and where was also located a mili-
tary post occupied by a battalion of United States cavalry.
Lieutenant Frederick Schwatka, a regular army officer and
American explorer, at one time commanded an arctic expedition
in search of traces of the remains of Dr. Franklin. At another
time he was in command of an exploring expedition of the Yu-
kon river. At another time he commanded an expedition into
the northernmost regions of Alaska in the interest of the New
York Times. He also became a writer and the author of three
quite well known books: Along Alaska's Great River, Nimrod
in the North, and Children of the Cold.
At the time of which we are speaking Lieutenant Schwatka
was stationed at the military post at North Platte. He fur-
nished us with the necessary army horses and equipment for the
hunting expedition, and he himself went along in command of a
squad of cavalry which acted as an escort to protect us if need
be when we should get into the frontier regions where the In-
dians were at times still engaged in the quest of game and some-
times in unfriendly raids.
William F. Cody, familiarly knowni as "Buffalo Bill," who
had already achieved a reputation as a guide and hunter and
who has since won a world reputation as a showman, went along
with us as courier and chief hunter. He went on similar expedi-
tions into the wilder regions of Wyoming with General Phil
Sheridan, the Grand Duke Alexis, and othei-s quite equally cele-
brated.
This Omaha group of amateur buffalo hunters, led by Buffalo
Bill and escorted by Lieutenant Schwatka and his squad of cav-
alry, rode on the afternoon of the first day from North Platte
to Fort MePherson and there camped for the night with the
bare earth and a blanket for a bed and a small army tent for
shelter and cover.
On the next morning after a nide army breakfast, eaten while
we sat about upon the ground, and without the luxury of a bath
or a change of wearing apparel, this cavalcade renewed its jour-
ney in a southwesterly direction expecting ultimately to reach
the valley of the Republican. We consumed the entire day in
traveling over what seemed almost a barren waste of undulating
prairie, except where here and there it was broken by a higher
328 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
upland and now and then crossed by a ravine and occasionally
by a small stream of running water, along the banks of which
might be found a small growth of timber. The visible area of
the landscape was so great that it seemed boundless — an im-
mense wilderness of space, and the altitude added to the invig-
orating and stimulating effect of the atmosphere.
We amateurs were constantly in anticipation of seeing either
wild animals or Indians that might add to the spirit and zest of
the expedition. There were no habitations, no fields, no farms.
There was the vast expanse of plain in front of us ascending
gradually westward toward the mountains with the blue sky and
sunshine overhead. I do not recollect of seeing more than one
little cabin or one little pioneer ranch during that whole day's
ride. I do know that as the afternoon wore on those of us who
were amateur horsemen were pleased to take our turns as the
opportunity offered of riding in the army wagon which carried
our supplies, and leading our horses.
When the shades of night of the second day had come we had
seen many antelope and now and then heard the cry of the
coyote and the wolf but we had not seen any sign of buffalo, but
we did receive information from some cattlemen or plain wan-
derers that there was a band of roving Indians in that vicinity
which created in us a feeling of some anxiety — not so much
for our personal safety as that our horses might be stolen and
we be left in these remote regions without the necessai-y facili-
ties for traveling homeward.
Our camp for the night was made upon a spot of low ground
near the bank of a small creek which was bordered by hills on
either side and sheltered by a smaU grove of timber near at
hand. The surrounding hills would cut off the sight of the
evening camp fires, and the timber would obscure the ascending
columns of smoke as they spread into space through the branches
of the trees.
The horses were picketed near the camp around the commis-
sary wagon and Lieutenant Schwatka placed the cavalrymen
upon sentinel duty. The night was spent with some restlessness
and sleep was somewhat disturbed in anticipation of a possible
danger, and I believe that all of us rather anxiously awaited
the coming of the morning with the eastern sunlight that we
might be restored to that feeling of security that would come
LAST ROMANTIC BUFFALO HUNT 329
with freedom of action and the opportunity for ' ' preparedness. ' '
When morning did come we had the pleasure of greeting each
other with pleasant smiles and a feeling of happy contentment.
We had not been molested by the Indians and our military sen-
tinels had not seen them.
On the afternoon of the third day of our march into the wil-
derness we reached the farther margin of a high upland of the
rim of a plain, where we had an opportunity of looking down
over a large area of bottomland covered by vegetation and where
there appeared to be signs of water. Prom this point of van-
tage we discovered a small herd of browsing buffalo but so far
away from us as to be beyond rifle range. These animals were
apparently so far away from civilization or human habitation of
any kind that their animal instinct gave them a feeling of safety
and security.
We well knew that these animals could seent the approach
of men and horses even when beyond the line of vision. We
must study the currents of the air and plan our maneuvei-s with
the utmost caution if we expected to be able to approach within
any reasonable distance without being first discovered by them.
We intrusted ourselves to the guidance of Buffalo Bill, whose
experience added to his good judgment, and so skilfully did he
conduct our maneuvers around the hills and up and down ra-
vines that within an hour we were within a reasonable distance
of these wild animals before they discovered us, and then the
chase began. It was a part of the plan that we should surround
them but we were prudently cautioned by Mr. Cody that a
buffalo could run faster for a short distance than our horses.
Therefore we must keep far enough away so that if the buffalo
should turn toward any of us we could immediately turn and
flee in the opposite direction as fast as our horses could carry us.
I must stop for a moment to recite a romantic incident which
made this buffalo chase especially picturesque and amusing.
Judge Neville had been in the habit of wearing in Omaha a high
silk hat and a full dress coat (in common parlance a spiketail).
He started out on this expedition wearing this suit of clothes
and without any change of garments to wear on the hunt. So it
came about that when this group of amateur buffalo huntsmen
went riding pell-mell over the prairies after the buffalo, and like-
wise when pursued by them in turn, Judge Neville sat astride
330 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
his running war-liorse wearing his high silk hat and the long
flaps of his spiketail coat floating out behind him on the breeze
as if waving a farewell adieu to all his companions. He pre-
sented a picture against the horizon that does not have its par-
allel in all pioneer history.
It was entirely impossible for us inexperienced buffalo hunters
while riding galloping horses across the plains to fire our rifles
with any degree of accuracy. Suffice it to say we did not suc-
ceed in shooting any buffalo and I don't now even know that
we tried to do so. We were too much taken up with the excite-
ment of the chase and of being chased in turn. At one time
we were the pursuers and at another time we wei*e being pur-
sued, but the excitement was so intense that there was no limit
to our enjoyment or enthusiasm.
Buffalo Bill furnished us the unusual and soul-stirring
amusement of that afternoon. He took it upon himself individ-
ually to lasso the largest bull buffalo of the herd while the rest
of us did but little more than to direct the course of the flight
of these wild animals, or perhaps, more correctly expressed —
to keep out of their way. It did not take Buffalo Bill very long
to lasso the large bull buffalo as his fleet blooded horse circled
around the startled wild animal. When evening came we left
the lassoed buffalo out on the plains solitary and alone, lariated
to a stake driven into the ground so firmly that we felt quite
sure he could not escape. It is my impression that we captured
a young buffalo out of the small herd, which we placed in a
corral found in that vicinity.
On the following morning we went out upon the plains to get
the lassoed buffalo and found that in his efforts to break away
he had broken one of his legs. We were confronted with the
question whether we should let the animal loose upon the prai-
ries in his crippled condition or whether it would be a more
merciful thing to shoot him and put him out of his pain and suf-
fering. Buffalo Bill solved the vexatious problem by concluding
to lead the crippled animal over to the ranchman's house and
there he obtained such instruments as he could, including a
butcher knife, a hand-saw, and a bar of iron. He amputated
the limb of the buffalo above the point of the break in the bone
and seared it over with a hot iron to close the artery and pre-
vent the animal from bleeding to death. The surgical operation
LAST ROMANTIC BUFFALO HUNT 331
thus rudely performed upon this big, robust wild animal of the
prairie seemed to be quite well and successfully performed. The
buffalo was then left in the ranchman's corral with the under-
standing that he would see it was well fed and watered.
We were now quite a way from civilization and near the
Colorado border line, and notwithstanding our subsequent rid-
ing over the hills and uplands during the following day we did
not discover any other buffalo and those which had gotten away
from us on the preceding day could not be found. During that
day we turned northward, and I can remember that about noon
we came to a cattleman's ranch where for the first time since
our start on the journey we sat do-«Ti to a wooden table in a log
cabin for our noonday meal. During the afternoon we traveled
northward as rapidly as our horses could carry us but night
came on when we were twenty miles or more southwest of Fort
McPherson and we found it again necessary to go into camp
for the night, sleeping in the little army tents which we carried
along with us in the commissary wagon.
Colonel Cody on this journey had been riding his own private
horse — a beautiful animal, capable of great speed. I can re-
member quite well that Mr. Cody said that he never slept out at
night when within twenty miles of his own home. He declined
to go into camp with us but turned his horse to the northward
and gave him the full rein and started off at a rapid gallop over
the plains, expecting to reach his home before the hour of mid-
night. It seemed to us that it would be a desolate, dreary, lone-
some and perilous ride over the solitude of that waste of countiy,
without roads, without lights, without sign boards or guides, but
Buffalo Bill said he knew the direction from the stars and that
he would trust his good horse to safely carry him over depres-
sions and ravines notwithstanding the darkness of the night. So
on he sped northward toward his home.
On the next day we amateur buffalo hunters rode on to Port
McPherson and thence to North Platte where we returned our
army horses to the military post with a debt of gratitude to
Lieutenant Schwatka, who at all times had been generous, cour-
teous, and polite to us, as well as an interesting social companion.
So ended the last romantic and rather unsuccessful buffalo
hunt over the western plains of the state of Nebraska — a region
332 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
then desolate, arid, barren, and almost totally uninhabited, but
today a wealthy and productive part of our state.
The story of the buffalo hunt in and of itself is not an inci-
dent of much importance but it furnishes the material for a
most remarkable contrast of development within a period of a
generation. The wild buffalo has gone. The aboriginal red
man of the plains has disappeared. The white man with the
new civilization has stepped into their places. It all seems to
have been a part of Nature's great plan. Out of the desolation
of the past there has come the new life with the new civilization,
just aa new worlds and their satellites have been created out of
the dust of dead worlds.
There was a glory of the wilderness but it has gone. There
was a mystery that haunted all those barren plains but that too
has gone. Now there are fields and houses and schools and
groves of forest trees and villages and towns, all prosperous
under the same warm sunshine as of a generation ago when the
buffalo grazed on the meadow lands and the aboriginal Indians
hunted over the plains.
Mrs. Charles H. Aull
Twelftli State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of tlie American
Revolution. 1915-1916
OUTLINE HISTORY OP THE NEBRASKA SOCIETY,
DAUGHTERS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION
By Mes. Charles H. Aull, State Regent
The National Society of the Daughters of the American Rev-
olution was organized in Washington, District of Columbia,
October 11, 1890, and incorporated under the laws of Congress,
June 8, 1891. Its charter membership numbered 818. Its de-
clared object was:
"To perpetuate the memory of the spirit of the men and
women who achieved American Independence by the acquisition
and protection of historical spots, and the erection of monu-
ments; by the encouragement of historical research in relation
to the Revolution and the publication of its results ; by the pres-
ervation of documents and relics, and of the records of the in-
dividual services of revolutionary soldiers and patriots, and by
the promotion of celebrations of all patriotic anniversaries.
"To carry out the injunction of Washington in liis farewell
address to the American people, 'to promote, as an object of pri-
mary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowl-
edge, ' thus developing an enlightened public opinion, and afford-
ing to young and old such advantages as shall develop in them
the largest capacity for performing the duties of American
citizens.
"To cherish, maintain, and extend the institutions of Ameri-
can freedom, to foster true patriotism and love of country, and
to aid in securing for mankind all the blessings of liberty. ' '
Although there were previously some "members at large" in
Nebraska, no chapter had been organized until the formation of
Deborah Avery chapter in 1896. At present (1916) there are
thirty-three chapters with a membership of fifteen hundred, and
a well organized state society actively engaged in historical, edu-
cational, and patriotic work. Each chapter pays to the state
society a per capita tax of twenty-five cents. A conference is
held annually to plan the state work and promote the purposes
of the national society.
Mrs. Charlotte F. Palmer of Omaha was appointed by the
national society as organizing regent for Nebraska, June 7, 1894.
334 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
She -was reappointed in February, 1895, and again in February,
1896.
No chapters were formed until in 1896, when Mary M. A.
Stevens of Lincoln was admitted to membership in the national
society, January 8, and was made organizing regent by Mrs.
Philip Hichbom, vice-president general in charge of organiza-
tion. Under the direction of Miss Stevens, Deborah Avery
chapter was formed May 15, 1896, and chartered June 17 fol-
lowing.
In May, 1896, Mrs. Laura B. Pound of Lincoln was appointed
state regent to succeed Mrs. Palmer and the real work of organ-
ization was begun.
Omaha chapter was formed June 29, 1896, and approved by
the national society October 1, 1896. In December, 1896, Mrs.
Elizabeth C. Langworthy was appointed organizing regent at
Seward but a chapter was not completed there until nine years
later. In February, 1897, Mary M. A. Stevens of Deborah
Avery chapter and Mrs. Henry L. Jaynes of Omaha chapter
were delegates to the continental congress at Washington. Miss
Stevens nominated Mrs. Pound for state regent and Mrs. Jaynes
nominated Mrs. John M. Thurston of Omaha for vice-president
general from Nebraska. Their election followed. Mrs. Thurston
died March 14, 1898, and her sister-in-law, Mrs. Angie Thurston
Newman of Lincoln was elected at the following congress to
succeed her. No new chapters were perfected in 1897 but Min-
nie Shedd Cline of Minden and Mrs. Sarah G. Bates of "Valen-
tine were appointed organizing regents.
Mrs. Frances Avery Haggard of Lincoln was elected state re-
gent by the* continental congress in February, 1898. She de-
voted her energies to raising money and supplies for the relief
work undertaken by the Daughters during the Spanish-Ameri-
can war. At the close of her first term Mrs. Haggard declined
a renomination.
The third state regent was Mrs. Elizabeth Towle of Omaha,
who was first elected in 1899 and reelected in 1900. Miss Anna
Day of Beatrice was appointed organizing regent by Mrs. Towle.
In 1901 Mrs. Laura B. Pound was again elected state regent
and served two terms. The national society having made pro-
vision for state vice-regents, Mrs. Mildred L. Allee of Omaha
was elected to that office. Mrs. Annie Strickland Steele was ap-
HISTORY OF NEBRASKA SOCIETY 335
pointed organizing regent at Fairbury, Mrs. Janet K. Hollen-
beek at Fremont, and Mi-s. Olive A. Haldeman at Ord. In her
last report as state regent Mrs. Pound recorded two new chap-
ters, Quivira chapter at Fairbury, organized December 3, 1902,
and Lewis-Clark chapter at Fremont, January 17, 1903, with
chapters at Beatrice and Ord in process of formation. Quivira
chapter was chartered February 3, 1903, and Lewis-Clark chap-
ter was chartered February 13, 1903.
The first state conference was called by Mrs. Pound in Octo-
ber, 1902, and was held in Lincoln at the home of the late Mrs.
Addison S. Tibbetts. This conference was called to nominate
a state regent and plan for observing the centennial of the Lewis
and Clark expedition. This event was celebrated August 3,
1904, the anniversary of the council of Lewis and Clark with
the Otoe and Missouri Indians. On this date a Nebraska boulder
was dedicated at Port Calhoun with appropriate exercises, par-
ticipated in by the Sons of the American Revolution and the
Nebraska State Historical Society. This was the first historical
event commemorated by the Daughters in Nebraska.
Mrs. Mildred L. AUee of Omaha was nominated for state re-
gent at the conference in 1902, and Mrs. Emma Kellogg of Lin-
coln for vice-regent. These nominations were approved at the
continental congress in 1903 and both nominees were elected,
and reelected in 1904.
Coronado chapter at Ord was organized January 25, 1904,
and Elizabeth Montague chapter at Beatrice June 17, 1904.
The former was chartered September 30, 1904, and the latter
June 21, 1905.
On October 20, 1903, the second annual state conference was
held in Omaha. Mrs. Charles Warren Fairbanks, president gen-
eral of the national society, was the guest of honor and delivered
an address upon the subject, "The Mission of the Daughters of
the American Revolution."
The third annual state conference assembled in Lincoln, Octo-
ber 19, 1904, for a two days' session. Mrs. Elizabeth C. Lang-
worthy of Seward was chosen for state regent and Mrs. Janet K.
Hollenbeck of Fremont was the choice of the conference fol* vice-
regent. Both were elected, and both were renominated at- the
fourth state conference held at Fairbury in October, 1905.
336 NEBRASICA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
Mrs. Langworthy organized the Margaret Holmes chapter at
Seward April 10, 1905, and Nikumi chapter at Blair, February
23, 1906.
Lincoln entertained the fifth annual state conference October
29-30, 1906, Mrs. Donald McLean, president general, being the
guest of honor. At this conference a state organization was
perfected and by-laws adopted providing that nominations for
state regent and vice-regent should be made by the state board
of management and submitted to the continental congress for
election. Other officers for the state organization were to be
elected at the annual conference. This system was followed
until 1910, when the by-laws of the national society were changed
to permit each state organization to elect its own regent and
vice-regent.
Mrs. Charles B. Letton of Quivira chapter, Fairbury, was
nominated for state regent and Mrs. Janet K. HoUenbeck for
vice-regent at the meeting of the board of management in the
spring of 1907, and were elected at the national congress imme-
diately following. Mrs. Letton waa reelected in 1908 and Mrs.
S. D. Barkalow of Omaha was elected vice-regent.
The sixth annual state conference was held in Omaha October
22-23, 1907. Mrs. Letton appointed three organizing regents,
one at Aurora, where no chapter has yet been formed; Mrs.
Arthur E. Allyn at Hastings, and Mrs. Charles Oliver Norton at
Kearney. On May 16, 1908, she organized the Fort Kearney
chapter at Kearney, which was chartered October 27, 1908, with
Mrs. Norton as its first regent.
Mrs. Richard C. Hoyt presented the following resolution to
the sixth annual conference and moved its adoption, the motion
being seconded by Mrs. Henrietta M. Rees :
"Therefore, be it resolved that the D. A. R. of Nebraska co-
operate with the State Historical Society in taking some steps
toward marking the old Oregon trail in Nebraska and that a
committee be appointed to act in unison with the Historical
Society. ' '
The resolution was adopted. Members of the Omaha chapter
who were interested in this matter at the time, say that the idea
was suggested by Dr. George L. Miller of Omaha, then president
of the State Historical Society. In accordance with the fore-
going resolution Mrs. Letton, state regent, appointed the follow-
M<j^a'MENT Located in
Bemis Park, Omaha, on
THE California Trail or
Military Road
Erected by Omaha Chapter,
Daughters of the American
Revohition
Monument in Riverside
Park, Omaha, m.vbking the
Initial Point op the Cali-
fornia Trail
Erected bj' Omaha Chapter, Daugh-
ters of the American Revolution
HISTORY OF NEBRASKA SOCIETY 337
ing committee: Mrs. John J. Stubbs, Omaha; Mrs. George H.
Brash, Beatrice; and Mrs. Stephen B. Pound, Lincoln.
The seventh annual conference was held at Fremont October
29-30, 1908. At this conference Mrs. Letton urged that plans
be made for marking the Oregon trail across Nebraska, and
called upon Mrs. Charles Oliver Norton who had been appointed
chairman of the Oregon trail committee to present the subject
to the conference.
In April, 1909, Mrs. Oreal S. Ward of Lincoln was elected
state regent and Mrs. S. D. Barkalow of Omaha was reelected
vice-regent. In 1910 Mrs. Ward was reelected state regent with
Mrs. Charles Oliver Norton as vice-regent.
The eighth state conference was held at Beatrice October
28-29, 1909. At this conference it was voted to present two mar-
ble pedestals to Memorial Continental Hall. It was resolved to
vigorously prosecute the efforts to secure an appropriation from
the legislature for the marking of the Oregon trail. Mrs. Charles
B. Letton, during her last term as state regent, had endeavored to
have the legislature of 1909 appropriate money for marking this
trail, but no action was taken by that body until the session of
1911, when, through the efforts of Mrs. Oreal S. Ward, who had
been elected state regent, $2,000 was appropriated ' ' for the pur-
pose of assisting in the procuring of suitable monuments to mark
the Oregon trail in the state of Nebraska. ' ' This money was to be
expended under the direction of a commission composed of "the
state surveyor of Nebraska, the state regent of the Daughters of
the American Revolution in the state of Nebraska, and the secre-
tary of the Nebraska State Historical Society." This act was
approved April 7, 1911. On April 10th following, the above-
named commissioners met and organized as the "Oregon Trail
Memorial Commission," with Robert Harvey president, Mrs.
Oreal S. Ward vice-president, and Clarence S. Paine secretary-
treasurer.
During Mrs. Ward's term as state regent she organized four
chapters, St. Leger Cowley chapter, Lincoln, December 3, 1909 ;
Niobrara chapter, Hastings, October 12, 1910 ; Otoe chapter, Ne-
braska City, February 15, 1911 ; Major Isaac Sadler chapter,
Omaha, March 1, 1911.
The ninth annual state conference was held in Seward, Octo-
338 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
ber 19-20, 1910, and Mrs. Charles Oliver Norton of Kearney was
elected state regent, and Mrs. Warren Perry of Fairbury vice-
regent. They were reelected at the tenth state conference, held
at Kearney, October 23-25, 1911. The following eleven chapters
were organized during Mrs. Norton 's administration :
Platte chapter, Columbus, October 20, 1911.
Keavis-Ashley chapter, Palls City, January 5, 1912.
Superior chapter, Superior, January 12, 1912.
Thirty-seventh Star chapter, MeCook, February 21, 1912.
David City chapter, David City, March 5, 1912.
Pawnee chapter, Fullerton, March 28, 1912.
David Conklin chapter, Callaway, February 22, 1913.
Josiah Everett chapter, Lyons, February 26, 1913.
BonneviUe chapter, Lexington, February 26, 1913.
Nancy Gary chapter, Norfolk, February 27, 1913.
Stephen Bennett chapter, Fairmont, February 28, 1913.
Mrs. Norton attended the third meeting of the Oregon Trail
Commission, held May 2, 1911, and was elected vice-president in
place of Mrs. Oreal S. "Ward whom she had succeeded as state re-
gent. During her term Mrs. Norton vigorously prosecuted the
work of marking the Oregon trail, with the assistance of Mrs.
Charles B. Letton, whom she had appointed as chairman of the
Oregon trail committee. During her administration the contract
was made for regulation markers to be used in marking the trail,
and several were erected. There were also several special monu-
ments erected ranging in cost from $100 to $350. The first
monument to be planned for during this period was the one on
the Kansas-Nebraska state line, to cost $350, which, however,
was not dedicated until later, and the last monument to be dedi-
cated during Mrs. Norton's term was the one on the Nebraska-
Wyoming line, costing $200, for which Mrs. Norton raised the
money from the Sons and Daughters of the American Revolu-
tion in Nebraska and Wyoming. During this time there was
also a very careful survey made of the trail and sites for monu-
ments were selected.
In April, 1910, Mrs. Andrew K. Gault of Omaha was elected
vice-president general from Nebraska at the national congress
and reelected in 1912, serving, in all, four years.
The eleventh annual conference was held in Lincoln, October
HISTORY OF NEBRASKA SOCIETY 339
22-24, 1912. Mrs. Mathew T. Scott, president general, was the
honor guest. Amendmenta to the by-laws were adopted in har-
mony with the by-laws of the national organization and the date
of the state conference was changed from October to March.
It was provided that all state officers should serve for one term
of two years, and the per capita tax was raised from ten cents to
twenty-five cents. Mrs. Warren Perry of Fairbury was elected
state regent and Mrs. Charles H. Aull of Omaha vice-regent.
The twelfth annual state conference convened at Fairbury,
March 17-19, 1914. During Mrs. Perry's term of office there
were organized the following chapters:
Oregon Trail chapter, Hebron, October 20, 1913.
Jonathan Cass chapter. Weeping Water, January 23, 1914.
Elijah Gove chapter, Stromsburg, February 16, 1914.
Fontenelle chapter, Plattsmouth, April 21, 1914.
Reverend Reuben Pickett chapter, Chadron, March 4, 1915.
At the close of her administration twelve organizing regents
were at work : Mrs. Eleanor Murphey Smith, Crete ; Mrs. Cap-
itola Skiles Tulley, Alliance; Mrs. Mabel Raymond, Scottsbluff;
Miss Jessie Kellogg, Red Cloud ; Mrs. Alice Dilworth, Holdrege ;
Mrs. Clara King Jones, Wayne; Mrs. C. M. Wallace, Shelton;
Mrs. Charles Brown, Sutton; Mrs. Margaret Orr, Clay Center;
Mrs. Viola Romigh, Gothenburg; Mrs. Leona A. Craft, Morrill;
Dr. Anna Cross, Crawford.
The most important work to engage the attention of the state
society during the administration of Mrs. Perry was the erection
of monuments on the Oregon trail, and the accumulation of
material for the present volume of reminiscences. A large num-
ber of the regulation markers on the Oregon trail were erected
during this time; several special monuments dedicated and
others arranged for.
The thirteenth state conference was held in Omaha, March
17-19, 1915. Mrs. Charles H. Aull of Omaha was elected state
regent, and Mrs. E. G. Drake of Beatrice vice-regent. Three
chapters have been organized under the present administration :
Capt. Christopher Robinson chapter, Crawford, June 16, 1915.
Butler-Johnson chapter, Sutton, June 17, 1915.
Three Trails chapter, Gothenburg, December 31, 1915.
At the present time plans are being formulated for marking
340 NEBRASKA PIONEER REMINISCENCES
the California trail from Omaha and Florence along the north
side of the Platte river to the Wyoming line. This work will
be carried forward by the Daughters, through the agency of the
Nebraska Memorial Association of which the state regent is
vice-president.
FINIS
"The moving Finger writes, and having writ,
Moves on : nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it. ' '
— Omar Khayyam
INDEX
INDEX
Abel, Anton, 60
Adams, Anna Tribell, 189
Adams, Clarendon K., Stirring
Eve7its along the Little Blue, 214
Adams County Gazette, 17
Adams county, historical sketch of,
11, 18
Adriance, Eev. Jacob, 291
Akers, William H., 14
Ak-Sar-Ben, Knights of, 189
Alexander, Colonel, 219, 222, 229
Alexander, S. J,. 144, 270
Alexander's ranch, 279
Alexandria, Nebraska, 139, 270
Alexis of Russia, Grand Duke, 327
AUee, Mildred L. (Mrs. Abraham),
189, 334, 335
AUen, Edna M. Boyle, A Grasshop-
per Said, 133
Allen, Edwin M., 16
Allen, Mrs. Emily BottorfE, Bem-
iniscences of Washington County,
286
Allen, Mr. and Mrs. John, 284
Allen, Pink, 284
Allen, Thomas, 284, 295
AUen, Thomas J., 299
Allen, William, 143
Allen, William Henry, Eeminiscen-
ces of Fort Calhoun, 284, 287
Allen, Mrs. WUliam Henry, 291
Alliance, Nebraska, 339
Allis, Samuel, 230
Allyn, Mrs. Arthur E., 336
American Baptist Publication So-
ciety, 281
American Fur Company, 312
American Monthly magazine, 189
American Woman's Suffrage Asso-
ciation, 278
Ames, John H., Location of the
Capital at Lincoln, 176
Ames, Nebraska, 306
Ames, Oakes, 199
Anderson, Mrs. Sarah F., 255
Andrews, Dr. J. P., 287, 294
Anthony, Susan B., 276, 277
Arapahoe, Nebraska, 58, 60, 63
Arbor Lodge, 219, 231, 235, 239, 240
Arkeketah (Otoe chief), 120
Arlington, Nebraska, 300
Armstrong brothers, 162
Arnold, Mrs., 293
Arnold, Major, 293
Asche, Mrs. A. Dove Wiley, 96
Atkinson, Mrs., 213
Atkinson, General Henry, 314
Auburn, Nebraska, 212
Auger, General C. C, 193
Aull, Mrs. Charles H., Outline His-
tory of the Nebraska Society,
Daughters of the American Bevo-
lution, 333, 339
Aurora, Nebraska, 213
Austin, O. O., 192
Avery, W. H., A Buffalo Hunt, 131
Ayres, James, Life on the Frontier,
54
Babcock, — , 124
Babcock, C. C, 17
Babcock, Russell D., 16, 17
Babcock, Titus, 16
Badger family, 97
Badger, Henry L., 97, 101, 104
Badger, Mrs. H. L., 101
Badger, Lewis H., 97
Badger, Mary A., 97
Bailey, Wesley, 141
Bainter, James, 11
344
INDEX
Baker, Ben S., 275
Baker, Joe, 148
Baker, Wilton, 192
Bancroft, Dr. WiUiam M., 57, 67
Banking House of Thomas Harbine,
145
Barber, F. B., 30
Barkalow, Mrs. S. D., 336, 337
Barnard, E. H., 78
Barneby, Battiste, 118
Barnes, Mrs. P. S., 38
Barnston, Nebraska, 120, 127
Barr, P. F., 15
Barrett, Jay Amos, 189
Barretts, Bev. and Mrs., 211
Bartlett, Iowa, 31
Bassett, Samuel C, A Broken Axle,
27; Dreamland Complete (poem),
28
Bates, Eev. Henry, 164
Bates, Mrs. Sarah G., 187, 334
Bauman, John, 294
Bay State Cattle Company, 26
Beatrice Express, 141
Beatrice, Nebraska, 111, 113, 117,
118, 122, 123, 127, 128, 133, 142,
149, 152, 161, 163, 166, 181, 187,
216, 270, 271, 275, 334, 335, 336,
337, 339
Beaver creek (Sandburr creek), 195
Beaver Crossing, Nebraska, 258, 259,
260, 261
Becksted, Addie, 323, 325
Becksted, Billy, 323
Becksted, Elton, 323
Bedford, Nebraska, 211
Beeson, Jane, 94
Bell creek, 30, 287, 297
Bell, James, 249
Bell, John T., 296
BeU, Ortha C, An Incident in the
History of Lincoln, 182, 185
Bell, Mrs. Ortha C, Lincoln in the
Early Seventies, 184-185
Bell, Ray Hiram, 185
BellevUle, Kansas, 142
Bellevue, Nebraska, 236, 323, 325
Beltzer, John, 248
Beni, Jules, 323, 324, 325
Benkleman, Nebraska, 263
Bennett, Caroline Valentine, 254
Bennett, Jacob, 254
Berwyn, Nebraska, 46
Bethlehem, Iowa, 41
Betz, , 58
Bierstadt, Albert, 214, 215
Bifkin, Colonel, 105
Big Blue river, 123, 151, 173, 242
Big Sandy, 139, 140, 148, 152, 154,
245, 280
Binfield, S. B., 15
Binney, Millard S., Crray Eagle, Paw-
nee Chief, 194
Bittenbender, Mrs. Ada M., 275
Black, Gov. Samuel W., 240, 301
Black Hills, 25, 50, 52, 110
Blackbird creek, 30, 32
Blackwell, Lucy Stone, 277
Blaine, WiUiam H., 101
Blair, Grant, 139
Blair, James, 139
Blair, Nebraska, 287, 291, 294, 298,
Blizzards, 20, 59, 75, 99, 109, 125,
128, 158, 160, 203, 205, 244, 245,
249, 250, 261, 282, 300
Blue river. 111, 113, 121, 161, 261
Blue Springs, Nebraska, 112, 113,
122
Blue Vale, 102
Bhie Valley Record, 111
Boggs, Dr., 128
Bohanan, Quinn, 182
Bonesteel, , 244, 245
Bookwalter, John W., 130
Boston and Newton Joint Stock As-
sociation, 168, 170, 171
Bottorflf, Andrew J., Early Days in
Stanton County, 266
Bonneville chapter, Daughters of
the American Revolution, 338
Boone, Mrs. William, 247
Bosler brothers, 26
Boucha, Joseph, 289
INDEX
345
Bouvier, Adeline, 289
Bouvier, Mother, 289
Bouvier, Oliver, Beminiscences of De
Soto in 1S55, 289
Bowen, Adna H., 16
Bowen, Judge, 287
Bower, Nebraska, 158
Box Butte county, Historical sketch
of, 25, 26
Boyd, , 258
Boyd, James E., 189
Boyer and Roubidoux, 190
Boyer, J. P., 190, 191
Boyle, Judge, 133, 142
Bradley, Judge James, 91, 293
Brady, , 190
Brady Island, 61, 190
Brash, Mrs. George H., 336
Brass, Samuel L., 16
Brewster, Mrs. S. C, 91
Brickley, E. D., 166
Brigham, George A., 286
Brisbane, , 260
Broken Bow, Nebraska, 46, 48, 49
Brooks, Mrs. , 275
Brooks, Mrs. N. J. Frazier, Bemin-
iscences of Pioneer Life at Fort
Calhoun, 288
Broome, Francis M., Frontier towns,
22
Bross, Rev. Harmon, 50
Bross, Mrs. Harmon, An Experience,
50
Brown, Mrs. Charles, 339
Brown, Mrs. Charles M., First
Things in Clay County, 43
Brown, F. M., 43, 44
Brown, Hopkins, 244
Brown, John, 141
Brown, R. G., 44
BrowneU hall, 96
Brownville & Fort Kearny railroad,
137
BrownviUe, Nebraska, 31, 111, 116,
142, 161, 211, 212
Buchanan, a frontier town, 22
Buck surveying party, 243
Buffalo, 18, 19, 27, 59, 60, 64, 71, 76,
99, 103, 104-106, 111, 117, 119,
131, 142, 153, 154, 164, 175, 214,
216, 219, 234, 242, 243, 289, 326,
332
Buffalo county, 29, 61, 223
Buffalo creek, 58, 60
Burgess, Frank, 248
Burke, Mrs. , 190
Burlington and Missouri R. R. Co.,
15, 16, 18, 43, 66, 122, 128, 136,
137, 188, 254
Burt, Mr. , 174
Bush, Lieutenant , 222, 223, 226,
229
Bussard, Kate, 103
Bussard, William, 109
BusweU, Judson, 19
Butler, , 217
Butler, Gov. David, 99, 136
Butler Johnson chapter. Daughters
of the American Revolution, 339
Byers, Mr. and Mrs. William N., 91
Cabnet, Antoine, 189
Caldwell, Mrs. A. J., 275
California trail, 88, 339
Callaway, Nebraska, 49, 338
Cameron, L. D., 291
Camp, WUliam M., 16
Campbell, Alexander, 43
Capital hotel, Lincoln, 135
Captain Christopher Robinson chap-
ter. Daughters of the American
Revolution, 339
Carney family, 75
Carpenter, J. A., Early Days in Ne-
braslca. 111
Carr, Gen. E. A., 193
Carson family, 213
Carter, Alex., 290, 291
Carter, "BiUy," 24
Carter, Jacob, 291
Carter, Mr. and Mrs. J. R., 14
Carter, Thomas M., Beminiscences,
290
Cass county, Nebraska, 37, 94
346
INDEX
Cedar creek (WiUow creek), 195
Central City, Nebraska, 244
Chabot, C, Early Becollections, 62
Chadron, Nebraska, 24, 50, 339
Champlin and McDowell, 156
Champlin, L. C, 175
Chandler, John S., 16, 19
Chapman, Nebraska, 213
Chapman, P. L., 143
Chautauqua Literary and Scientific
Circle, 282
Cheyenne and Northern R. E., 264
Cheyenne county, Kansas, 263
Cheyenne, Wyoming, 193, 213
Chief Pipestem (Otoe Indian), 144
Chouteau, Auguste, 190
Chauteau, Pierre, 190
Christian, , 156
Christian, Robert, 143
Christian, William, 141
Claim clubs, 93
Clapp, Mrs. Sarah, Early Indian
Eistory, 198
Clark, E. H., 268, 284, 293
aark, Mrs. E. H., Fort Calhoun in
the Early Fifties, 293, 296
aark, Elam, 286, 294
Clark, Isaac N., 44
Clarksoii, Rev. John F., 15
Clark, Dr. Martin V. B., 44
Clark, Theodore, 193
Qarks, Nebraska, 249
aay Center, Nebraska, 44, 339
Clay county, 11, 18, 43
Clements, , 33
Clements, E. J., 282
Cline, Mrs. J. A., 187
Cline, Minnie Shed, 334
Clother hotel, Columbus, 249
Cody, William P. (Buffalo Bill),
200, 263, 326, 327, 329-331
Cogswell, Mrs., 193
Colby, Mrs. Clara Bewick, 275
Colby, Orrin, 287
Cole, Gen. Albert V., Early Expe-
riences in Adams County, 18
Cole's creek, 285
Collegeview (Fontenelle college),
300
Collins, Rev. Isaac, 291
Columbus, Nebraska, 59, 60, 201,
242, 247-250
Comstock, E. S., 214, 216
Comstock, George S., 214-217
Concordia, Kansas, 155
Conroy's ranch, 77
Cook, , 244
Cook, Capt. James H., 52
Cooper, Dr. P. J., 287
Cooper, Vienna, 287
Corey, A. A., 43
Coronado chapter. Daughters of the
American Revolution, 282, 335
Coronado, Francisco de, 112, 113,
119, 232, 233, 283
Correll, Ernest E., Fred E. Boper,
Pioneer, 268; An Indian Raid,
279
Correll, E. M., 275, 277, 278
Correll, Lucy L., The Lure of tlie
Prairies, 272, 275; Suffrage in
Nebraska, 277, 278
Cottage Hill postofSce, 127
Cottonwood Springs, 190, 191, 192
Council Bluff (Fort Calhoun), Ne-
braska, 308
Council Bluffs, Iowa, 31, 92, 276,
284, 290, 295
Council creek (Skidi creek), 195
Cox, William W., 255, 257
Crab Orchard, Nebraska, 128
Craft, Mrs. Leona A., 339
Craig, Allen, 286
Craig, Mrs. Rhoda, 295
Cramb, J. O., 141
Cramb, Will F., 141
Crane, George, 20
Crawford, Nebraska, 24, 51, 339
Creighton college, 90
Creighton, Edward, 285
Creighton telegraph line, 191
Crete, Nebraska, 15, 20, 163, 300,
339
Crook, General George, 199
INDEX
347
Crooked Hand, the Fighter (Paw-
nee Indian), 230
Cropsey, Col. Andrew J., 162
Cropsey, Daniel B., Early Days in
Pawnee County, 135
Cross, Dr. Anna, Legend of Crow
Butte, 51, 339
Cross, George, Early Events in Jef-
ferson County, 137, 141, 143, 145
Crow Butte, Legend of, 51
Crow Heart Butte (poem). Pearl
Shepherd Moaes, 52
Cub creek, 140, 148, 164
Culbertson, Nebraska, 60
Culver, Gen. Jacob H., 189
Culver, Mrs. Jacob H., 189
Cuming City Claim Club, 290
Cuming City, Nebraska, 286, 287,
290, 291, 298
Cuming county, 36
Cuming, Governor Thomas B., 91
Cuming, Mrs. Thomas B., 91
Gumming, Mrs. NUs, 43
Gushing, James, 244
Gushing, Capt. S. E., 198, 200
Custer County, Jteminiscences of, by
Mrs. J. J. Douglas, 46, 48
Daily-Gazette- Journal, 17
Daily, Major, 120
Dalbey, Dwight S., 129
Dalbey, Mrs. Dwight S., member
Book committee, 5
Dalbey, Mrs. Virginia Lewis, Bi-
ograpTiy of Ford Lewis, 129
Daniels, J. H., 188
Darling, Dick, 191
Daugherty, R. C, 193
Daughter of the American Eevolu-
tion, 168, 187, 188, 253
David City, Nebraska, 338
David City chapter. Daughters of
the American Eevolution, 338
Davis, Frank M., 18
Davis, J. v., 162
Davis, Mrs. Thomas, 91
Davis, W. H., 299
Dawson county, 57, 61-64, 67, 72, 74
Dawson, John, 201
Day, Miss Anna, 187, 334
Deadwood, South Dakota, 66
Deborah Avei-y chapter. Daughters
of the American Eevolution, 187,
188, 189, 253, 333, 334
Decatur, Nebraska, 30-33, 287, 322,
323
Delahunty, Patrick, 54
De Merritt, Case of, 48
De Soto, Nebraska, 287-289, 290,
298
Deep Well ranch, 105
Deroin, Battiste, 118, 121
Diller, Nebraska, 125
Dillon, Ira G., 17
Dilworth, Mrs. Alice, 339
Dilworth's Islands, 55
Dinsmore, John B., 44
Dismal river, 63
Ditto, Hank, 24
Dixon, Mr. and Mrs. Nimrod J., 102
Doane college, 300
Dodge county, 298, 303
Dodge, Gen. Grenville M., 91
Dodge, Col. Henry, 190
Donavan, Frele Morton, 180
Donavan, W. T., 178
Douglas county, Nebraska, 326
Douglas house, Omaha, 92
Douglas, J. J., 48, 49
Douglas, Mrs. J. J., Eeminiseences
of Custer County, 46
Douglas, Stephen A., 235
Dubuque, Julien, 307
Dundy county, Nebraska, 263
Dundy, Judge Elmer S., 326
Dunlap, , 215
Drake, Mrs. E. G., 339
Dreamland Complete (poem), 29
Dyball, Mrs. George B., 306
Eagle (Missouri Indian chief), 119
Eddyville, Nebraska, 66
Edgerton, Gordon H., 11, 12, 17
El Capitan Eancho, 216
348
INDEX
Elijah Gore chapter, Daughters of
the American Eevolution, 339
Elizabeth Montague chapter, Daugh-
ters of the American Revolution,
335
Elk City, Nebraska, 305, 306
Elkhorn river, 78, 84, 266, 267, 297,
299, 300
Ellis, Mrs. , An Acrostic, 204
Elm creek, Nebraska, 61, 65, 75
Endicott, Nebraska, 161
Engle, Mr. and Mrs., 213
Erickson, Charles J., 76
Eriekson, Frank, 76
Erickson, John, 76
Erwin & Powers company, 58
Estabrook, Mrs. Experience, 91
Eubanks, Mr. and Mrs., 214, 215,
217, 218, 270
Evans, John, 264
Evans, Mrs. May, 43
Everett, Mr. and Mrs., 33, 34
Everett, B. W., 30, 32
Everett, Eleanor, 32
Everett, Mrs. Elise G., Experiences
of a Pioneer Woman, 32
Everett, Prank, 33, 34
Everett, Josiah, 30, 32, 33
Ewing, , 55
Fagot, Mrs., , 68
Fairbury Gazette, 141-143
Fairbanks, Mr. and Mrs., 103
Fairbanks, Mrs. Charles Warren,
335
Fairbury, Nebraska, 75, 116, 118,
133, 137, 139-146, 147, 154-158,
161, 162, 166, 168, 175, 188, 275,
335-337
Fairfield, Chancellor E. B., 135
Fairmont, Nebraska, 20, 75, 101, 338
Falls City, Nebraska, 252, 253, 338
Farnam, Nebraska, 77
Ferguson, Susan E., 278
Fifth U. S. Cavalry, 190, 193
Fillmore county, 75, 97, 102, 107,
109
Fillmore postofSce, 27
FUley, Elijah, 116, 127
FiUey, Nebraska, 127
Finney, Dr., 290
First National bank, Fairbury, 143
First Territorial Fair, 237
Fisette, Mrs. Charles H., Pioneer
Women of Omaha, 90
Fish creek, 290
Fisher, , 253
Fisher, King, 279
Fisher, Martin, 131
Fitehie, S. D., 192
Florence, Nebraska, 27, 80, 93, 248,
339
Fontenelle chapter, Daughters of the
American Revolution, 339
Fontenelle coUege, 296
Fontenelle, Logan, 299
Fontenelle Mounted Bangers, 301
Fontenelle, Nebraska, 284, 295, 296,
297, 298, 301, 304
Fontenelle mission, 300
Fort Atkinson, 188, 284, 307, 308
Fort Calhoun, 284, 285, 286, 287,
288, 289, 293, 294, 298, 308
Fort Cottonwood, 285
Fort Hartsuflf, 282
Fort Kearny (Nebraska City), 152
Fort Kearny, 12, 28, 60, 65, 88, 95,
176, 219-223, 225, 227, 229, 242,
285
Fort Kearney chapter. Daughters of
the American Revolution, 336
Fort Laramie, Wyoming, 76
Fort Leavenworth, 314
Fort McPherson, 74, 76, 190, 191,
193, 200, 327, 331
Fort Omaha, 182
Fourth of July celebration, 295
Fouts, Marion Jerome (California
Joe), 11, 13
Fowlie, Peter, 15, 17
Fox, The (Pawnee Indian), 228, 229
Fox Ford, 270
Francis, Samuel, 300
Franklin, Dr., 327
INDEX
349
Franklin county, 232, 233
Prazier, John, 286
Frazier, Thomas, 288
Freeman, Charles, 244, 245
Freeman, Daniel, 57, 66
Freeman, Mrs. Daniel, Eecollections
of the First Settler of Dawson
County, 64
Fremont, John C, 12, 78
Freeman, Minnie (see Penney), 203,
204
Freeman, W. E., 244
Fremont, Nebraska, 78, 82, 84, 178,
188, 249, 267, 335
Freighting, 11, 25, 37, 64, 95, 153,
270, 285
French, Luther, 43-44
Frenchman river, 59
Fritts' grove, 32
Frontier Towns, Frances M. Broome,
22
FuUerton, Nebraska, 194, 338
I'urnas, Gov. Robert W., 96, 213
Gage county, 111-112-122, 123, 127-
130, 216
Gale, Dr. Marion F., 307-321
Gale, Mary, 307-321
Gale, Mell, 127
Gantt, Judge Daniel, 192
Gardner's Siding, 249
Gates, Mr. and Mrs. MUo, 213
Gates, Susan, 13
Gault, Mrs. Andrew K., 338
Gaylord brothers, 20
Gaylord, Georgia, 91
Gaylord, Ealph, 91
Gaylord, Rev. Reuben, 91, 300
Genoa, Nebraska, 194, 198, 200, 206,
228, 229, 242, 246, 247
Gerrard, E. A., 247
Gibson, John McT., 145
Gilkerson, Alice Flor, 78
Gillingham, David (Gray Eagle),
194
GUlis, Judge, 230
Gillman, J. C, 191, 192
Oilman's ranch, 77, 220
GUman, Jed, 220, 221, 222
Gilmore, Lydia, 102
GUman, Mrs. P. J. (Mary Hubbard),
193
Gilmore, Boss, 104
Gilmore, Elias, 102
Gilmore, Jake, 104
Gilmore, Minnie, 103
Glenn, Newton, 139
Glenwood, Iowa, 41
Goldsmith, Rev. S., 168
GoodwiU, Mrs. Taylor G., 91
Gordon, Jim, 139
Gordon, Nebraska, 24
Gosper, Mrs. Watie, 184
Goss, , 291
Gothenburg, Nebraska, 76, 339
Gould, Charles, 170, 171
Gould, W. A., 137
Grand Island, Nebraska, 13, 20, 62,
67, 105, 106, 213, 244, 245
Grant, U. S., 15
Grasshoppers, 21, 68, 82, 109, 133,
184, 247-248, 252, 273, 274
Gray Eagle (Pawnee chief), 194-195
Great American Desert, 235, 282
Green, Albert L., Reminiscences of
Gage County, 112
Grimes, L. R., 44
Guinn, Dr., 213
Gurley, W. F., 189
Hackberrt CAi5oN, 265
Hacker famUy, 213
Hackney ranch, 270, 271, 280
Hackney, Walt, 270
Hackney, WiUiam, 270
Hager, Rev. Isaac, 241
Haggard, Mrs. Frances Avery, 334
Haigler, Nebraska, 263
Haile, , 12
Haines, Rev., 172
Haldeman, Dr. F. D., 282
Haldeman, Mrs. Olive A. (Mrs. F.
D.), 282, 335
Halfway HoUow ranch, 25
350
INDEX
HaOl & Evans, 264
Hamer, Judge Francis 6., 48
Hamilton county, 250
HamOton, Mrs. Cynthia, 79, 80
Hamilton hotel, 92
Hamilton, Mrs. William, 79, 81
Haney, , 279
Hanscom, Mr. and Mrs. Andrew J.,
90
Hansen, George W., Early Days of
Fairhury and Jefferson County,
139, 145; The Earliest Bomance
of Jefferson County, 147; Finding
the Grave of George Wvnslow, 168-
174
Hansen, Harry, 141
Hansen, Mary Kelley, 143
Harbine Bank of Fairbury, 145
Harbine, John, 145
Harbine, Col. Thomas, 144, 145
Hardenburg, Harry, 186
Hardy, Nebraska, 111
Harrington, Sarah P., 79
Harney, General W. S., 192
Hart ranch, 25
Harvard, Nebraska, 18, 43
Harvey, Augustus F., 177, 178
Harvey, Eobert, 337
Hastings Journal, 17
Hastings, Nebraska, 11, 12, 15, 17,
19, 336, 337
Haunstine, Albert, 48
Hawkins brothers, 263
Hawthorne, Mary Heaton, 78
Hay canon, 263
Hay Springs, Nebraska, 24
Haynes, Jack, 14
Heaton, Eev. Isaac E., 78
Heaton, Mrs. Isaac E., 78
Hebron Journal, 277
Hebron Library association, 278
Hebron, Nebraska, 270-272, 275, 277,
279, 339
Helvey, Frank, 139, 148-151, Expe-
riences on the Frontier, 152, 154
Helvey, Jasper, 139
Helvey, Joel, 139, 148-150, 152, 154
Helvey, Orlando, 140
Helvey, Thomas, 139, 152
Helvey, Whitman, 152
Hemphill, Ada, 247
Hemphill, Mrs. Mary, 247
Henderson, Nellie, 43
Henderson, George, 16
Hendricks, George, 264
Henrietta postoffice, 272
Herndon house, 92
Herrick family, 32
Heth, John, 222, 223, 226, 227, 228,
229
Heth, Mrs. John, 227
Heth, Minnie, 227
Hewitt, Lucy E., Early Days in Daw-
son County, 67
Hewitt, Thomas J., 67
Hewitt, Mrs. Thomas J., 67
Hickborn, Mrs. Philip, 334
Hickok, James B. (Wild Bill), 139,
153
Hiles' ranch, 77
Hinman, Beach I., 192
Hinman, Washington M., 191, 192
History and Art club, Seward, 254
Holdrege, Nebraska, 339
Hollenbeck, Mrs. Janet K., 335, 336
Hollenberg, Captain, 150
Holloway & Fowler, 78
Holmes, Mrs. Mary, 275
Holt county, 203
Horse creek (Skeleton Water), 195
Horseshoe creek, 150
Howe, Church, 211
Howe, Nebraska, 211
Howell, William, 109
Hoyt, Mrs. Richard C, 336
Hubbard, Mary (Mrs. P. J. Gil-
man), 193
Hubbell, Nebraska, 153
Hubbell, Will, 175
Hughes' ranch, 25
Humphries, , 65
Hungate family, 38
Hunter, Eev. A. V., 39
Hunter, Charley, 260
INDEX
351
Hunter, George Michael, 260
Hunter, I. N., Eecollections of,
36
Hunter, Mr. and Mrs. L. D., 36
Huntsmen's Echo, 27
Hurd, , 156
Huse, Harriet, 278
IMLAY, William, 256
Indians, 28, 33, 34, 36-38, 41, 42, 51,
54-56, 59, 60, 64, 65, 72, 74, 76,
79, 80, 86, 87, 95, 97-100, 102, 104-
106, 108-110, 112-122, 134, 136,
142, 144, 149, 150, 152, 154, 164,
165, 175, 189, 191-202, 208-210,
216-218, 222, 227-231, 242, 246,
247, 253-257, 270, 279, 280, 286,
289, 294, 296, 301-303, 305, 307-
321
Indian burial, 120, 121
Indian creek, 113
Indian massacres, 12, 28, 54, 59, 65,
243, 285
Indian police, 117, 118
Indian school, Genoa, 246
Indianola, Nebraska, 263
Inland, Nebraska, 18
Independence, Missouri, 170, 171,
172
Irvington, Nebraska, 91
Jenkins, D. C, 139
Jenkins, George E., Looking Back-
ward, 155
Jenkins' Mill, 145
Johanson, Sven, Early Days in Stan-
ton county, 266
Johanson, Mrs. Sven, 267
Johnson county, 129
Johnson family, 213
Johnson, Mrs. E., Early Becollec-
tio-ns of Gage County, 127
Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. E. D., 57,
58, 67, 70
Johnson, EUeek, 58
Johnson, Jim, 104
Johnson, Mrs. Hadley, 92
Johnson, Mrs. Harrison, 92
Johnson, Joseph E., 27
Jonathan Cass chapter. Daughters of
the American Eevolution, 339
Jones, Alfred D., 295
Jones, Mrs. Alfred T>., 91
Jones, Mrs. Clara King, 339
Josiah Everett chapter, daughters
of the American Eevolution, 338
Junction City, Kansas, 142
Julesburg, Colorado, 323
Judson, H. M., 92
Juniata, Nebraska, 15, 16, 18, 19
Juniata house, 19
Jackson, James A., 295
Jackson, Zaremba, 290
Jaeobson, John, 19, 54
Jacobson house, 19
James, Gov. William H., 16, 99, 43
Jansen, John, 124
Jansen, Peter, Ranching in Gage and
Jefferson Counties, 123
Jarvis, Mrs. A. P., Lovers' Leap,
196
Jascoby, , 284
Jaynes, C. 8., 18
Jaynes, Mrs. Henry L., 334
Jefferson county, 117, 120, 123, 137,
139-151, 156, 158, 161, 173, 175,
270
Jeffrie's ranch, 77
Kanesville (Council Bluffs), Iowa,
92, 290
Kansas City & Omaha E. E., 14
Kansas Pacific E. E., 193
Kearney county, 11
Kearny Heights (Nebraska City),
236
Kearney, Nebraska, 48, 67, 70, 75,
223, 243, 270, 336, 337
Keen, Eev. W. G., 260
Kehoe, John, 72
Keith, Mrs., 193
Kelley, Alfred, 143
Kelly, , 216, 217
Kelly, John, 93
Kelly, Margaret F., A Grasshopper
Story, 82
352
INDEX
Kellogg, Miss Jessie, 339
KeUogg, Mrs. Emma, 335
Kenesaw, 11, 12
Kenny, Aimee Taggart, 295
Keyou, , 322
Kimball brothers, 188
King, , 282
King, Mrs. Deborah, 275
Kingsley, Fayette, 279, 280
Kirk, George, 31
Kittle, Fred, 78
Kittle, Eobt., 78, 79
Klein and Lang, 123
Knapp, Robert M., 129
Koontz, J., 78
Kountze, Mrs. Herman, 91
Kramph, Mrs., 193
Kress, Mortimer N. (Wild Bill), 11,
13, 14
Krier, B. F., Pioneer Justice, 72
Kuony, Mr. and Mrs. John B., 293
La Flesche, Joseph, 289
Lake canon, 263
Lancaster county, 129, 177, 180
Lancaster, Nebraska, 177, 178, 180
Langworthy, Elizabeth C. (Mrs.
Stephen C), 187; Two Seward
County Celebrations, 254, 334, 335
Lazure, Mrs. May Allen, Some Items
from Washington County, 295
Lee, General, 199
Leflang, E. M. F., 66
Leonard, Emma, 16
Lepin hotel, 15
Lester, S. P., 124
Lett, H. C, 213
Lettou, Mrs. Charles B., 168, 169,
336, 337, 338
Letton, Judge Charles B., 144; The
Easter Storm of 1873, 158-160,
169
Lewis and Clark, 187, 188, 189, 190,
308
Lewis-Clark chapter, Daughters of
the American Eevolution, 188, 335
Lewis, Elizabeth Davis, 130
Lewis, Ford, 129, 130
Lewis, Levi, 129
Lewis, M. K., 17
Lewis, Phoebe, 129
Lewiston, Nebraska, 130
Lexington, Nebraska, 54, 57, 67, 72,
338
Lezenby, Christopher, 258
Libby, E. E., 33
Liberty, Nebraska, 122
Lincoln, Nebraska, 43, 107, 109, 112,
135, 156, 176-182, 184-186, 188,
213, 259, 260, 275, 278, 334, 335,
337
Lincoln county, 61, 190-193
Lindgren, Elof, 109
Lingle, Mrs. Addie Bradley, 70
Lingle, W. H., 70
Lippincott Halfway House, 287
Little Blue river, 11, 12, 43, 44, 104,
105, 148, 149, 153, 154, 166, 217,
270
Littlepipe, John (Otoe Indian), 134,
144
Little Sandy, 139, 148, 152, 153
Lockwood, Judge William F., 91
Logan creek, 30, 32
Logan Valley, 32
Lomas (or Loomis), Ehoderick, 13
Long, Major Stephen H., 190
Longshore, , 60
Long Pine, Nebraska, 187
Lone Tree (Central City), Nebraska,
244, 245
Lord, Brackett, 170, 171, 173
Long creek, 286, 287
Lost creek (Lincoln park), 214
Louisiana Purchase, 236, 307
Loup river, 63, 88 (Potatoe Water),
195, 228, 229, 285
Lovers' Leap, 196
Lower 96 ranch, 77
Luey, Francis M., 13, 14
Lyons, Nebraska, 338
MacColl, John H., 57, 60, 74
MacColl, Laura, 74
INDEX
353
MacMurphy, Harriet S., 96, 187 ; Ni-
l-umi, 307; The Heroine of the
Jules-Slade Tragedy, 322
MacMurphy, John A, 323
McAllister, W. A., Some Personal
Incidents, 242
McCabe's ranch, 221
MeCufifery, , 141
MeCall, E. J., 258
MeCandles, Bill, 270
McCashland, Addie, 107
McCashland, John E., Pioneering in
Fillmore County, 107
McCashland, Mrs. John E., 107
McCashland, Sammy, 107
McCaules, D. C, 139, 153
McComas, , 95
MeCook, Nebraska, 338
McCreary family, 213
McCune, Calmer, Early Days in Polk
County, 248
McDonald, Mrs. Charles, 191
McDonald, Charles, 191, 192, 193
McDonald, Thomas, 286
McDonald, W. H., 191
McDowell, Mrs. Gertrude M., Suf-
frage in Nebraska, 275
McDowell, Joseph B., Beginnings of
Fairbury, 161, 162
McDowell, W. G., 140, 161
McElroy, WUliam John, 14
MeGovern, Teddy, 272
McGregor, Harry, 243
McLean, Mrs. Donald, 336
McMaster, A. M., 127
McNeil, Miss, 78, 180
McNeely, Frank, County-seat of
Washington County, 298
MoPherson hotel, Brownville, 212
MePherson station, 76
Mabin's ranch, 221, 222
Mahan, Henry, 248
Mahum, Tom, 55
Major Isaac Sadler chapter. Daugh-
ters of the American Eevolution,
337
Majors, Alexander, 139, 240
Majors, Col. Thomas J., 95
Mallet brothers, 190
Mallott, James B., 60
Maple Creek, Iowa, 30, 82
Margaret Holmes chapter, Daughters
of the American Eevolution, Sew-
ard County Beminiscences, 255,
335
Marks, Mrs. Ives, 156
Marks, Eev. Ives, 140, 143, 156, 279
Marks' mUl, 142, 155
Marsden, , 188
Marsh, A. K., 43, 44
Marysville, Kansas, 149, 150
Martin, , 105
Martin, E. L., 97
Martin, Major, 240
Marvin, Seth P., 78
Mary Cole steamboat, 299
Mason, Judge O. P., 118, 144
Mason, Sidney, Mr. and Mrs., 140
Mathews, Capt. Fred, 200
Mattingly, J. B., 140, 142, 144, 162
Maxwell, Nebraska, 76
Mayes, Charles, 71
Mayfield's ranch, 25
Mead, Mrs. Eda, The Story of the
Town of Fontenelle, 299
Medicine, Nebraska, 263
Medicine Horse (Otoe chief), 116,
120
Melroy, Nebraska, 127, 128
Mellenger, Edgar, 58
Mellinger, ' ' Doc, ' ' 59
Melvin brothers, 44
Memorial Continental Hall, 337
Meridian, Nebraska, 153, 154, 270,
271, 279
Merritt, Asa, 31
Mickey, Gov. John H., 189
Midland Pacific E. E., 259
Milford, Nebraska, 102
Military road, 305
Millard, Joseph H., 189
Miller, Mrs., 193
Miller, A. J., 192
MiUer, Charlie, 279
Miller, Dr. George L., 91, 336
Minden, Nebraska, 187, 334
354
INDEX
Minor, Ella Pollock, Incidents at
Plattsmouth, 41
Mira VaUey, 203, 204
Mission creek, 121
Missouri river, 18, 27, 31, 41, 80, 97,
107, 111, 112, 135, 140, 152, 153,
189, 190, 198, 211, 219, 335, 247,
252, 256, 263, 269, 270, 289, 290,
299, 305, 307-309, 322
Missouri river ferry, 322
Monroe, Nebraska, 200
Moore, John S., 15
Moore, Sadie Irene, The Beginnings
of Fremont, 78
Moots, Mr. and Mrs. W. S., 14
Morgan, Hugh, 192
Mormons, 27, 89, 93, 206, 236, 269
Mormon trail, 27, 28, 293
MorriU, Nebraska, 339
Morris, Prof. John, 180
Morrow, J. A., 191, 192
Morse, Capt. Charles, 200
Morse, Col. Charles F., 15
Morton, Carl, 238
Morton, Caroline Joy, 235, 240
Morton, Charles, 33
Morton, J. Sterling, 96; My Last
Buffalo Hunt, 219, 235, 239, 240,
297
Morton, Joy, 235
Morton, Paul, Hoiv the Founder of
Arbor Day Created the Most
Famous Western Estate, 235
Moses, Pearl Shepherd, Crow Heart
Butte (poem), 52
Mott, Lucretia, 276
Mud creek, 128
Mullen, Mrs., 58
Murdock, Rev., 121
Murray, Mrs., 201
Murray, Nebraska, 94
Nance county, 194-195, 198, 206,
207, 229, 242
Nancy, Gary chapter, Daughters of
the American Revolution, 338
Narrows, The, 217
National Society, Daughters of the
American Revolution, 333
National Suffrage Association, 275
Nebraska City, Nebraska, 76, 97,
102, 104, 109, 111, 127, 135, 176,
177, 178, 180, 236, 270, 297, 337
Nebraska Memorial Association, 339
Nebraska Society, Daughters of the
American Revolution, 254
Nebraska Society, Sons of the
American Revolution, 335, 338
Nebraska State Historical Society,
95, 139, 170, 179, 187-189, 219,
335, 336
Nebraska Territorial Pioneers' As-
sociation, 253
Needham, Mr., 201
Needham, Mrs. Christina, 201
Nemaha river, 253
Neville, Judge James, 326, 329
Newbecker, Clara, 282
Newbecker, Dr. Minerva, 282
Newbecker, Lieut. Philip, 282
Ne\\Tnan, Mrs. Angle Thurston, 334
Nikumi, 307-321
Nikumi chapter. Daughters of the
American Revolution, 336
Niobrara chapter, Daughters of the
American Revolution, 337
Niobrara river, 25
Nobes, C. J., 182
Nonpareil, a frontier town, 22
Norfolk, Nebraska, 338
Norman, P. O., 43
North, Major Frank, 198, 200, 244,
245
North, Capt. Luther, 200, 201, 244
North Platte, Nebraska, 190, 191,
192, 193, 264, 326, 327, 331
Northwestern R. R., 26
Norton, Mrs. Charles Oliver, 336,
337, 338
Norton, Hannah, 147
Norton, Lilian (Madam Nordica),
147
Norton, Major Peter, 147
Noyes, Major, 246
INDEX
355
NuckoUs county, 214, 216, 218, 270,
272
Nye, Mrs. Theron, Early Days in
Fremont, 84
Overland Stage line, 139, 149, 214
Overland trail, 139, 152, 216, 219,
220, 236, 268, 269
Overton, Nebraska, 58
Oak, John, 30
Oak Grove ranch, 214, 216
Oakland, Nebraska, 30
O'Brien, Major George M., 191
0 'Conner, Mrs. Thomas, 92
O'Fallons' Bluffs, 191, 200
Ogallalla Cattle Company, 26
Oliver, Sr., Edward, 27
Oliver, Edward, 29
Oliver, James, 29
Oliver, John, 29
Oliver, Robert, 29
Oliver, Sarah, 28
Omaha, Nebraska, 30, 36, 62, 78, 80,
88, 90, 93, 130, 176, 178, 180, 181,
189, 191, 198, 241, 249, 263, 266,
267, 269, 275, 284-287, 289, 290,
294, 295, 299, 300, 301, 305-306,
308, 325, 326, 329, 333-339
Omaha Bee, 189
Omaha chapter. Daughters of the
American Revolution, 187, 188,
189, 334, 336
Omaha Mary, 289
Omaha Republican, 75
Onawa, Iowa, 32
Ord, Nebraska, 281, 335
Oregon trail, 11, 65, 76, 139, 150,
161, 168, 169, 336-339
Oregon Trail chapter, Daughters of
the American Revolution, 339
Oregon Trail Memorial Commission,
337, 338
Orr, Mrs. Margaret, 339
Osceola, Nebraska, 248
Osceola Record, 248
Ostrander, , 217
Otoe chapter. Daughters of the
American Revolution, 337
Otoe county, 129
Otoe Indian reservation, 112-122,
125, 127, 142, 322
Pacific house, Beatrice, 123
Pacific Telegraph line, 76, 78
Paine, Mrs. C. S., 5
Paine, Clarence S., 337
Palmatier, , 263
Palmer, Mrs. Charlotte F., 333, 334
Palmer, Capt. Henry E., 218
Parker, Jason, 244
Parks, Nebraska, 263
Parmele, Mrs. Lilian, 42
Patterson, Daniel, 139
Patterson's trading post, 139
Patrick, Mrs. Edwin, 91
Pawnee City, Nebraska, 118, 122,
136, 178
Pawnee county, 129, 135, 136
Pawnee Indian reservation, 198, 206,
208, 230, 242, 246
Pawnee ranch, 43
Pawnee scouts, 199, 218
Peale, Titian, 190
Pearson, Capt. F. J., 57
Peavy and Curtiss, 122
Penney, Minnie Freeman, The Bliz-
zard of 1888, 203; Major North's
Buffalo Eunt, 244
Petalesharo (Pawnee chief), 247
Peterson, Martin, 54
Perry, Mrs. Lula Correll (Mrs. War-
ren), 5, 337, 339
Pierce, Judge Robert D., 57
Pine Bluff reservation, 59
Pine Ridge country, 24
Pioneer, Dawson county, 57
Pioneer Record, 295
Pittsburgh postoffice, Nebraska, 258,
259
Plainfield, Nebraska, 203
Platte chapter. Daughters of the
American Revolution, 338
Piatt, Elvira Gaston, 198
Piatt, Lester W., 198
356
INDEX
Platte river, 11, 27, 44, 55, 56, 58,
70, 76, 79, 84, 87, 94, 105, 190,
192, 219, 220, 228, 229, 245, 285,
299, 339
Platte VaUey, 221
Plattsmouth, Nebraska, 18, 41, 136,
178, 256, 323, 339
Pleasant Dale, Nebraska, 258
Plum creek, 55, 57, 58, 64, 256, 257,
285
Plum ereek (Gage county), 114, 122
Plum creek (Lexington), Nebraska,
54, 57, 60, 62, 66, 67, 70, 72,
75
Plummer, Eleanor 147, 149, 150
Plummer, Mrs. Jason, 149
Plummer, Jason, 147, 148
Plymouth, Nebraska, 168
PoUey, Hiram, 184
Pollock, Mrs. Thomas, 41
Polk county, 248, 251
Polk, Nebraska, 250
Pony Express, 64, 65
Pope, Mrs. Anna Eandall, 213
Poppleton, Mrs. Andrew J., 92
Porter, A. J., From Missouri to
Dawson County in 187 S, 75
Pound, Mrs. Laura B., Marking the
Site of the Lewis and Clarlc Coun-
cil at Fort Calhoun, 187, 189, 334,
335, 336
Pumpkin creek, 265
Purdy house, Fairbury, 175
Purple, , 291
Pursell, Mrs. Auta Helvey, 147
Purvianoe, Edith Erma, A Pioneer
Family, 93
Purviance, Erma, 96
Purviance, Dr. W. E., 96
Prairie Chicken (Omaha Indian),
100
Prairie fires, 68, 120, 164, 247
Pyle and Eaton, 44
QuiNCY COLONY, 284, 296, 299-304
Quivira, 112, 233
Quivira chapter. Daughters of the
American Revolution, 147, 188,
335, 336
Randall, Mk. and Mrs., 123
1, A. D., 213
Charles, 46, 213
Randall, E. J., 213
Randall, Dr. H. L., 213
Randall, N. G., 211
Randall, Sarah Schooley, My Trip
West in 1861, 211
Rawhide creek, 79
Raymond, Mrs. Mabel, 339
Raymond, Nebraska, 184
Reavis-Ashley chapter. Daughters of
the American Revolution, 338
Reavis, Isham, 253
Reavis, Mahala Beck, 253
Red aoud, Nebraska, 137, 339
Red Lion mill, 109
Redman, Joseph, 93
Reed, Alexander, 284
Reeder, Mrs. James G., Pioneer
Life, 246
Rees, Henrietta M., 336
Republic county, Kansas, 142
Eepuilican, Omaha, 95
Republican river, 60, 61, 105, 154,
222, 225, 242
Republican Valley, 58, 214, 222, 243,
327
Reverend Reuben Pickett chapter.
Daughters of the American Rev-
olution, 339
Reynolds, Nebraska, 140
Reynolds, B. W., 80
Reynolds, Wilson, 80
Rhoades, Orrin, 284
Rhustrat, Dr., 80
Richardson, Lyman, 92
Ringer, Mr. and Mrs. Bradford, 186
Ringer, Frank J., 186
Ringer, Jennie Bell, 185
Ringer, John Dean, 186
Riverton, Nebraska, 239
Rock Bluffs, Nebraska, 37, 94
Rock creek, 139, 144, 153, 161, 270
INDEX
357
Eockport, Nebraska, 266, 286, 298
Eockwood, Martin T., 67
Eoe, Thomas, 107
Eogers, Mrs. Samuel E., 92
Eomigh, Mrs. Viola, 339
Eoot, Aaron, 92
Boot, Mrs. Allen, 91
Eoper, Ford, 122
Eoper, Fred E., 268-271
Eoper, Joe B., 270
Eoper, Laura, 218, 270
Eoper, Mann E., 269
Eoscoe, B. S., 30, 31, 32
Eoscoe, Mrs. Isabel, A Pioneer Ne-
braska Teacher, 30
Eose creek, 140, 144, 148, 153, 155,
156, 279
Eosewater, Edward, 189
Eoy, George, 252, 253
Eoy, Mrs. Thyrza Eeavis, Personal
Reminiscences, 252, 253
Eoyce, Loir, 203
Eulo, Nebraska, 252
Eushville, Nebraska, 24
Eussell, Alice M., 281
Eussell, Mrs. E. A., Reminiscences,
281
Eussell, Eev. E. A., 281
EusseU, H. C, 49
Eussell, Mrs. Lucinda, 275
Eussell, Majors and Waddell, 214,
240
St. Joe & Denver Citt E. E. Co.,
144
St. Joe and Grand Island E. E., 75,
144
St. Joseph, Missouri, 155, 211, 241,
252, 270
St. Leger Cowley chapter, Daugh-
ters of the American Eevolution,
337
St. Marys, Iowa, 290
St. Nicholas hotel, 92
St. Paul, Nebraska, 204
Saline City, 177
Salt creek, 221
Saltillo, Nebraska, 97
Salt Lake City, 269
Sanborne, John P., 192
Sand Hills, 258
Santa Fe trail, 308, 316
Saratoga (Omaha), Nebraska, 93
Sarpy, Peter A., 290, 307-321
Sarpy's trading post, 311, 317
Saunders county, 80, 87
Sawyer, Mrs. A. J., 275
Saxon, Elizabeth, 276
Schmeling, Frank, 214
School creek, 18, 43
Schooley, Charles A., 211
Scofield, T. D., 17
Scott, , 128
Scott, Miss Lizzie, 16
Scott, Mrs. Mathew T., 338
Scottsbluff country, 264
Seottsblufif, Nebraska, 339
Schwatka, Lieut. Frederick, 326,
327, 328, 331
Schwerin, Eev. W., 45
Scully, Lord, 130
Second Nebraska Cavalry, 242, 292
Second TJ. S. Cavalry, 280
Selden, Mrs. O. B., 92
Selleck, Wellington W., 16
Seward, 254
Seward county, 254, 235, 262
Seward, Nebraska, 187, 248, 250,
334, 336, 337
Seymour, Elizabeth Porter, Early
Experiences in Nebraska, 163-165
Shader, Mr. and Mrs. A. L., 140
Shader, Claiborn, 140
Shattuck, Etta, 203
Sheldon, Addison E., 188, 189, 258
Shell creek, 201
Shelton, Nebraska, 339
Sheridan (Auburn), Nebraska, 212
Sheridan, Gen. Phil, 327
Sherman, General, 192
Shields, Mrs. Herman, 306
Shields, Thomas, 255
Shipley, 286
Shirley, William, 44
358
INDEX
Shorter county, 191-192
Showalter, Dr., 141
Shumway, Grant Lee, Pioneering,
263
Sidney, Nebraska, 25, 193, 264
Sidney traU, 25
Sixth U. S. Infantry, 307, 309
Slade, Jack, 324, 325
Slade, Lyman or Jack, 153
Slocumb, Charles, 145
Slocumb and Hambel, 144
Sluyter, Isaiah, 16
Smith, , 178, 291
Smith, Adam, 201
Smith Brothers, 123
Smith, C. B., 91, 92
Smith, Mrs. C. B., 91
Smith, Charles, 78
Smith, Dan, 77
Smith, Mrs. Dan, 77
Smith, De Etta Bell, 185
Smith, Edmund Burke, 185
Smith, Mrs. Eleanor Murphey, 339
Smith, Hazel Bell, 185
Smith, Mrs. J. Fred, 306
Smith, J. 6., 78
Smith, John, 13
Smith, Major, 119
Smith, Samuel C, 246
Smith, Towner, 78
Smith, Col. Watson B., 326
Snake creek, 25
Solomon river, 218
Sommerlad, H. W., 260
Sons of the American Eevolution,
187, 188
Soules, , 175
Southwell, , 33
Spade, Dan, 109
Spade, William, Fillmore County in
the 70 's, 109
Spanish American War, 334
Spillman, Jerome, 300
Stall, Irwin, 259
Stanley, C, 244, 245
Stanton county, 266, 267
Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, 275, 277
Staples, David, 168, 171-173
Starbuck, Eev. Charles, 206
Star hotel, Fairbury, 143
Stark, Isaac W., 16
Stark, John, 15
Stark, Margaret, 15
State Federation of Woman's Clubs,
254
Stebbins, Mrs. W. M., The Erickson
Family, 76
Steele, Annie M., 275
Steele, Mrs. Annie Strickland, 334
Steele, Calvin F., 143, 166, 275
Steele, Mrs. C. F., Fersmal Recol-
lections, 166-167; Finding the
George Winslow Grave, 168
Stephen, Bennett chapter, Daughters
of the American Revolution, 338
Stevens, Col. George, 284, 293
Stevens, Mary M. A., 334
Stevens, William, 250
StUes, James, 32
Stilts, Judge, 287
StockviUe, Nebraska, 263
Stone, Dr. , 248
Stone, Lucy, 275
Storer, WiUiam, 28
Stout, D. D., 290
Stout, E. P., 290
Stromsburg, Nebraska, 339
Stubbs, Mrs. J. J., 336
Stuckey, Capt. John S., 58
Stuckey, Joseph, 58
Stuckey, Samuel Clay, 58
Stuhl, Joseph, 16
Stutzman, Henry, 14
Sullivan, Potter C, 298
Sumner, Nebraska, 66
Superior chapter, Daughters of the
American Eevolution, 338
Superior, Nebraska, 111, 338
Sutton, Nebraska, 18, 43, 44, 339
Swan Brothers, 26
Swan creek, 140, 148-149
Sweetser, , 174
Sweezy, William F., 92
Snowden, Mrs. William P., 92
INDEX
359
Taggart, Rev. J. M., 296
Talbot, Mr. and Mrs. Ben, 47
Talbot, Bishop, 241
Talbot, John, 223, 226
Talbot, Dr. WilUs, 49
Tall BuU (Cheyenne Indian), 198
Tash, Ira E., Historical Sketch of
Box Butte County, 25
Taylor, J. O., 46
Taylor, Tim, 152
Teeumseh, Nebraska, 161, 275
Tenth U. S. Infantry, 242
Thayer county, 140, 270, 277
Thayer County Woman's Suffrage
Association, 277, 278
Thayer, Gen. John M., 92
Thayer, Mrs. John M., 92
The Conservative, 238
The Homesteader, 248
Thomas, S. G., 175
Thomas & Champlin, 141, 142
Thompson, Barbara J., 278
Thirty-two Mile creek, 12
Thirty-seventh Star chapter. Daugh-
ters of the American Revolution,
338
Three Groves, Nebraska, 95
Three Trails chapter. Daughters of
the American Revolution, 339
Thurston, Mrs. John M., 334
Tibbetts, Mrs. Addison S., 335
Timberville (Ames), Nebraska, 306
Tinklepaugh, Roy, 127
Tipton, James, 59
Tipton, Thomas W., 213
Tisdale, Thomas H., 260, 261
Tooth & Maul, 91
Towle, Albert, 151
Towle, Mrs. Eliza, 187
Towle, Mrs. Elizabeth, 334
Tree planting, 238, 297
Trefren and Hewitt, 46
Tremont house, 92
Tribune, The Fremont, 79
Troup, Mrs. Elsie De Cou, 189
Tucker, , 60
Tucker family, 57
Tucker, Tudor, 58
Tulley, Mrs. Capitola Skiles, 339
Turkey creek, 225
Turner, Eliza, 78
Turner, Mrs. George, 82
Turner, Mrs. Margaret, 78
Ulig, , 217
Union Pacific E. R., 16, 29, 54, 55,
57, 62, 66, 75, 76, 82, 84, 91, 95,
104, 106, 161, 192, 193, 198, 199,
200, 243, 245, 264, 327
United States Daughters of the War
of 1812, 253
Upper 96 ranch, 77
Valentine, Nebraska, 22, 334
Valley county, 204
Vallery, Mr. and Mrs. Jacob, 41
Van Horn, James, 291
Van Vliet, Brig. Gen. Stewart L.,
225
Vance, Mrs. Laura (Laura Roper),
270
Vanier brothers, 294
Vermillion, A. Martha, 278
Virginia, Nebraska, 127, 130
Wahoo, Nebraska, 78, 221
Walker brothers, 193
Walker, Major Lester, Early His-
tory of Lincoln County, 190
Wallace, Mrs. C. M., 339
Walnut creek, 258, 259, 260
Walton, Mrs. EUen Saunders, Early
Days in Nance County, 206
Ward, Joseph, 180
Ward, Mrs. Oreal S., 337, 338
Ware, Ellen Kinney, Early Eemin-
iscences of Nebraska City, 240
Warfield's ranch, 221
Warrick, Amasa, 286
Warrington, T. L., 68
Washington county, 286, 287, 290-
Warwick, Rev. J. W., 13
Warwick, Lila (or Eliza), 13, 14
INDEX
— , 244
Waters, Stella Brown, 49
Waters, William H., 248
Waters, W. W., 49
Waterville, Kansas, 162
Waterville, Nebraska, 142
Watson, W. W., 145
Wayne, Nebraska, 339
Webster, John Lee, The Last Bo-
mantic Buffalo Hunt on the Plains
of Nebraska, 326
Weed, Thurlow, 44
Weed, William L., 44
Weeks, M. H., 142
Weeks, Mrs. M. H., Early Days in
Jefferson County, 175
Weeks, Mary, 175
Weeping Water, Legend of, 39
Weeping Water, Nebraska, 36, 37,
38, 339
Weeping Water river, 220
Wehn, , 116
Weisel, George, 139
Wells Fargo Express Company, 25,
77
West, , 80
West, Mr. and Mrs., 79
West, Julia, 79
West Blue river, 43, 97, 107, 245,
258, 262
West Blue postoffiee, 97
West Point, Nebraska, 36
Western Stage Company, 142
Westling, J. A., 133
Weston, John B., 43
Wharton, Rev. Fletcher L., 213
Wheeler, Judge, 213
Wheeler, Major, 123, 246
Whiskey Run, 169
Whitaker, , 103
Whitaker, Sabra Brumsey, 101
White, Rev. A. G., 291
White, Capt. Charles, 43
White Eagle (Pawnee Chief), 194
White, Luke, 100
White, Sammy, 98, 100
Whitewater, Jim (Otoe halfbreed),
116, 117, 144
Whiterock, Kansas, 131
Whiting, A. V., 155
Whitney famUy, 213
Whittaker, Mrs. Cliflford, A Good
Indian, 74
Wiggins, Horace S., 15
Wigton, A. L., 15, 17
Wigton, J. W., 17
Wilbur, Nebraska, 163
Wild BUI (James B. Hickok), 139,
153, 270
Wild Cat banks, 237
Wilds, M. B., 291
Wiley, Araminta, 96
Wiley, Gertrude Miranda, 93
WUey, Hattie, 96
Wiley, Dr. William Washington, 93
Wilkinson, Emma, 305
Wilkinson, Ida, 305
Wilkinson, Nettie, 306
Wilkinson, Thomas, 305, 306
Wilkinson, Mrs. Thomas, 305, 306
Wilkinson, WiUiam W., 306
Williamson, John, 194, 195
Wilson, , 58
Wilson, Capt., 280
Wilson, Luther, 78
Wilson, Perley, 56
Wilson, W. R., 82
WUtse, Chauncey Livingston, The
Pawnee Chief's Farewell, 208-210
Wint, Brig. Gen. Theodore, 189
Winslow, Edward, 171
Winslow, Eleazer, 171
Winslow, George, 168-174
Winslow, Mrs. (Jeorge, 170
Winslow, George E., 170
Winslow, George Edward, 171
Winslow, Henry O., 170, 171
Winslow, Mrs. Henry, 168
Winslow, James, 171
Winslow, Jesse, 170, 173
INDEX
361
Winslow, Josiah, 171
Winslow, Kenelm, 170, 171
Winslow, Shadrach, 171
Woerner, Mike, 216
Wolf creek, 117
Woman's Journal, 277, 278
Woman's suffrage, 275-278
Wood, Mr. and Mrs. Kentucky, 91
Woodhurst, Mrs. 182
Woodhurst, Warden, 182
Woods, Jim, 139
Wood river, 27, 60, 66
Wood Eiver Centre, 27, 28
Work, George F., Historical Sketch
of Adams County, 11
Wright, Eben, 13
Wyncoop, Col. — , 270
Wyoming Society Daughters of the
American Revolution, 338
Wyoming Society Sons of the Amer-
ican Revolution, 338
Wyuka cemetery, Nebraska City, 297
Yankee Hill, 177
Yankton, South Dakota, 247
Young, Brigham, 65
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