Collection of Nebraska Pioneer Reminiscences Part 3

When he reached Rock Bluffs, one of the early river towns of Ca.s.s 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 overcoat, 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 started 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.

During the early sixties, many bands of Indians numbering from forty to seventy-five, visited Weeping Water. It was on one of their visits that the writer made the best record he has ever made, as a foot racer. The seven or eight year old boy of today would not think of running from an Indian, but half a century ago it was different. It was no fun in those days to be out hunting cattle and run onto a band of Indians all sitting around in a circle. In the morning the cattle were turned out to roam about at will except when they attempted to molest a field, and at night they were brought home if they could be found. If not the search was continued the next day. Some one was out hunting cattle all the time it seemed. With such a system of letting cattle run at large, it was really the fields that were herded and not the cattle. Several times a day some member of the family would go out around the fields to see if any cattle were molesting them. One of our neighbors owned two Shepherd dogs which would stay with the cattle all day, and take them home at night. It was very interesting to watch the dogs drive the cattle. One would go ahead to keep the cattle from turning into a field where there might be an opening in the rail fence, while the other would bring up the rear. They worked like two men would. But the family that had trained dogs of this kind was the exception; in most cases it was the boys that had to do the herding. It was on such a mission one day that the writer watched from under cover of some bushes, the pa.s.sing 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 otherwise 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 residents 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 incidents 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 Weeping Water. The poem was written by my son, Rev. A. V. Hunter, 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 b.l.o.o.d.y fights.

Then one day the war cry sounded Over valley, hill and plain.

From the North came dusky warriors, From that vast unknown domain.

When the news had reached the valley That the foe was near at hand, Every brave was stirred to action To defend his home, his land.

To the hills they quickly hastened There to wait the coming foe.

Each one ready for the conflict Each with arrow in his bow.

Awful was the scene that followed, Yells and warwhoops echoed shrill.

But at last as night descended Death had conquered; all was still.

Then the women in the wigwams Hearing rumors of the fight, Bearing flaming, flickering torches Soon were wandering in the night.

There they found the loved ones lying Calm in everlasting sleep.

Little wonder that the women, Brokenhearted, all should weep.

Hours and hours they kept on weeping, 'Til their tears began to flow In many trickling streamlets To the valley down below.

These together joined their forces To produce a larger stream Which has ever since been flowing As you see it in this scene.

Indians christened it Nehawka Crying Water means the same.

In this way the legend tells us Weeping Water got its name.

INCIDENTS AT PLATTSMOUTH

BY ELLA POLLOCK MINOR

Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Vallery were living in Glenwood, Iowa, in 1855, when they decided to purchase a store from some Indians in Plattsmouth. Mr.

Vallery went over to transact the business, and Mrs. Vallery was to follow in a few days. Upon her arrival 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, accompanied 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 born in the vicinity of Plattsmouth. And this incident happened soon after her arrival in 1855. Mrs. Vallery had the baby in a cradle and was preparing dinner when she heard a knock at the door. Before she could reach it, an Indian had stepped in, and seeing some meat on the table asked for it.

She nodded for him to take it, but he seemed to have misunderstood, and then asked for a drink of water. While Mrs. Vallery was getting the drink, he reached for the baby, but she was too quick for him and succeeded in reaching the baby first. He then departed without further trouble.

At one time the Vallerys had a sick cow, and every evening several Indians would come to find out how she was. She seemed to get no better and still they watched that cow. In the course of a week she died, evidently during the night, because the next morning the first thing they heard was the Indians skinning the cow, out by the shed, and planning a "big feed" for that night down by the river.

The late Mrs. Thomas Pollock used to tell us how the Indians 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 delighted 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 bra.s.s b.u.t.tons.

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 pa.s.s. Pretty soon she peeked out and there was a band of Indians coming. Terrified, she ran down toward her home, dropping pieces of clothing and blankets as she went. The Indians seeing them, ran after her, each one anxious to pick up what she was dropping. 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. Weston, who located on the Little Blue, built a log hut in 1857 and called the place p.a.w.nee 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 surveyed and laid out the original townsite which was named after Sutton, Ma.s.sachusetts. 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 Henderson and Capt. Charles White who rode in from the West Blue in pursuit of an antelope, which they captured.

Mrs. Wils c.u.mming 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 c.u.mming 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 territory, 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.O. Norman, and A. A. Corey were elected county commissioners. When it came to organizing and qualifying the officers, only one freeholder 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 a.s.sessments had been made all county business was done on credit. There was no courthouse and county business was conducted 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 pet.i.tion for an election to relocate the county seat was filed, but the motion of Commissioner A. K. Marsh that the pet.i.tion 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.