Chapter IV (2)

The home mother earth affords her children of Nebraska is much the same as the homes the great forests of the east gave to our forefathers, and have given shelter to many she is now proud to call Nebraska's children.

When I spoke of returning to the hotel, the governor said:

"We would like to have you remain with us to-night, if you will," and as Mrs. Garber added her invitation, I readily accepted their kindness, for it was not given as a mere act of form. I forgot my weariness in the pleasure of the evening, hearing the governor tell of pioneer days and doings, and Mrs. G. of California's clime and scenery--her native state.

The morning was bright and refreshing, and we spent its hours seeing the surrounding beauties of their home.

"Come, Miss Fulton, see this grove of trees I planted but eight years ago--fine, large trees they are now; and this clover and timothy; some think we cannot grow either in Nebraska, but it is a mistake," while Mrs. G. says:

"There is such a beautiful wild flower blooming along the path, and if I can find it will pluck it for you," and together we go searching in the dewy grass for flowers, while the Governor goes for his horse and phaeton to take me to the depot.

Mrs. G. is a lady of true culture and refinement, yet most unassuming and social in her manners. Before I left, they gave me a large photograph of their home. As the Governor drove me around to see more of Red Cloud before taking me to the depot, he took me by his 14×16 hillside home, remarking as he pointed it out:

"I am sorry it has been so destroyed; it might have yet made a good home for some one," then by the first frame house built in Red Cloud, which he erected for a store room, where he traded with the Indians for their furs. He hauled the lumber for this house from Grand Island, over sixty miles of trackless prairie, while some went to Beatrice, 100 miles away, for their lumber, and where they then got most of their groceries.

As we drove through the broad streets, and looked on Red Cloud from centre to suburb, I did not wonder at the touch of pride with which Governor Garber pointed out the advance the little spot of land had made that he paid for in years of service to his country.

When the B. & M.R.R. reached Red Cloud in '79, it was a town of 450 inhabitants; now it numbers 2,500. It is the end of a division of the B. & M. from Wymore, and also from Omaha; is the county seat of Webster county, and surrounded by a rich country--need I add more?

AMBOY.

A little station four miles east of Red Cloud; little stream, with bushes; and now we are crossing Dry Creek; corn looks short.

COWLES.

Beautiful rolling prairie but no timber; plenty of draws that have to be bridged; shan't write much to-day for you know it is Sunday, and I feel kind of wicked; wonder what will happen to me for traveling to-day; am listening to those travelers from the east tell to another how badly disappointed they were in Colorado. One who is an asthmatic thinks it strange if the melting at noon-day and freezing at night will cure asthma; felt better in Red Cloud than any place. Other one says he wouldn't take $1,000 and climb Pike's Peak again, while others are more than repaid by the trip. A wide grassy plain to the right, with homes and groves of trees.

BLUE HILL.

A small town; great corn cribs; a level scope of country. O, rose, that blooms and wastes thy fragrance on this wide spread plain, what is thy life? To beautify only one little spot of earth, to cheer you travelers with one glance, and sweeten one breath of air; mayhap to be seen by only one out of the many that pass me by. But God sowed the seed and smiles upon me even here.

Bloom, little flower, all the way along,
Sing to us travelers your own quiet song,
Speak to us softly, gently, and low,
Are they well and happy? Flowers, do you know?

Excuse this simple rhyme, but I am so homesick.

This country is good all the way along and I do not need to repeat it so often. Nicely improved farms and homes surrounded by fine groves of trees. I see one man at work with his harvester; the only desecrator of the Sabbath I have noticed, and he may be a Seventh day Baptist.

AYR

Was but a small town, so we go on to HASTINGS, a town of over 5,000 inhabitants, and the county seat of Adams county. Is ninety-six miles west from Lincoln, and 150 miles west of the Missouri river. The B. & M.R.R. was built through Hastings in the spring of 1872, but it was not a station until the St. Joe and Denver City R.R. (now the St. Joe & Western Division of the U.P.R.R.) was extended to this point in the following autumn, and a town was platted on the homestead of W. Micklin, and named in honor of T. D. Hastings, one of the contractors of the St. Jo. & D.C.R.R. A post-office was established the same year, the postmaster receiving a salary of one dollar per month. Now, the salary is $2,100 per annum, and is the third post-office in the state for business done. It is located on a level prairie, and is nicely built up with good houses, although it has suffered badly from fires. I notice a good many windmills, so I presume water runs deep here. The surrounding country is rich farming land, all crops looking good.

Harvard, Sutton, Grafton, Fairmont, Exeter, Friend, and Dorchester, are all towns worthy of note, but it is the same old story about them all. I notice the churches are well attended.

A poor insane boy came upon the train, and showed signs of fight and, as usual, I beat a retreat to the rear of the car, but did not better my position by getting near a poor, inebriated young man, in a drunken stupor. I count him sixth, but am told he came from Denver in that condition, so I will give Colorado the honor (?) of the sixth count. I cannot but compare the two young men: The one, I am told, was a good young man, but was suddenly robbed of his reason. If it was he that was intoxicated, I would not wonder at it. I never could understand how any one in their right mind could deliberately drag themselves down to such a depth, and present such a picture of sin and shame to the world as this poor besotted one does. Everyone looks on him with contempt, as he passes up the aisle for a drink; but expressions of pity come from all for the one bereft of reason, and I ask, Which of the two is the most insane? But I don't intend to preach a temperance sermon if it is Sunday.

CRETE.

Quite a pretty town half hid among the trees that line the Big Blue river. The valley of the Blue must be very fertile, as every plant, shrub, and tree shows a very luxuriant growth. Crete is surely a cosy retreat. The Congregational church of the state has made it a centre of its work. Here are located Doane College and the permanent grounds of the N.S.S.A.A.

LINCOLN.

Well, here I am, and no familiar face to greet me. I asked a lady to watch my baggage for me, while I hastened to the post-office, and when I returned the train was gone and the depot closed. I stood looking through the window at my baggage inside, and turning my mind upside-down, and wrongside out, and when it was sort of crosswise and I didn't know just what to do, I asked of a man strolling around if he had anything to do with the depot. "No. I am a stranger here, and am only waiting to see the ticket agent." After explaining matters to him I asked him to "please speak to the ticket agent about that baggage for me," which he readily promised to do, and I started to walk to my friends, expecting to meet them on the way. After going some distance I thought I had placed a great deal of confidence in a stranger, and had a mind to turn back, but the sun was melting hot, and I kept right on. After I had gone over a mile, I was given a seat in a carriage of one of my friends' neighbors, and was taken to their door, and gave them another surprise, for they thought I had made a mistake in the date, as they were quite sure no train was run on that road on Sunday.

_Monday._ Mr. Gardner went for my baggage, but returned without it, and with a countenance too sober for joking said: "Well, your baggage is not to be found, and no one seems to know anything about it."

"Oh! Pet," Maggie said, "I am so sorry we did not go to meet you, for this would not have happened. What did you leave?" "Everything I had." "Your silk dress too?" "Yes, but don't mention that; money would replace it, but no amount could give me back my autograph album and button string which is filled and gathered from so many that I will never again see; and all my writings, so much that I could never replace. No, I _must_ not lose it!" And then I stole away and went to Him whom I knew could help me. Some may not, but I have faith that help is given us for the minor as well as the great things of life, and as I prayed this lesson came to me--How alarmed I am over the loss of a little worldly possessions, and a few poems and scraps of writing, when so much of the heavenly possession is lost through carelessness, and each day is a page written in my life's history that will not be read and judged by this world alone, but by the Great Judge of all things. And, too, it is manuscript that cannot be altered or rewritten.

I would not allow myself to think that my baggage was gone for good, nor would I shed one tear until I was sure, and then, if gone, I would just take a good cry over it, and--but won't I hug my dusty satchels if I only get hold of them again, and never, never be so careless again. I supposed the stranger whom I had asked to speak to the ticket agent for me had improved the opportunity I gave him to secure it for his own.

So it was a rather hopeless expression that I wore, as Cousin Maggie took me to the city in the afternoon. The day was away up among the nineties, and we could not go fast. I thought, never horse traveled so slow, and felt as though I could walk, and even push to make time. But I kept quiet and didn't even say "Get up, Nellie!" I suppose a mile a minute would have been slow to me then. When at last I reached the depot my first thought was to go right to Mr. Randall with my trouble, but was told he was about to leave on the train. I peered into the faces of those gathered about the depot, but failing to find him, I turned to look at the sacred spot where I had last seen may baggage, little dreaming that I would find it, but there it all was, even my fan. "Oh dear, I am _so_ glad!" and I fussed away, talking to my satchels, and telling them how glad I was to see them, and was about to give them the promised "great big hug," when I found I was attracting attention, and turning to an elderly lady I asked her to please watch my baggage for a few moments. How soon we forget our good promises to do better.--I hastened to Mr. Randall's office, found him without a thought of going away. I first told him how much I was pleased with the Republican valley, and then about my baggage.

"Why, child! did you go away and leave it here?"

"Yes, I did; and I have left it again in care of a real dressy old lady, and must go and see to it."

When I reached the waiting room the old lady and baggage were both gone. Turning to my cousin, who had just entered, I asked:

"Maggie Gardner, what did you do with that baggage?"

"Nothing; I did not know you had found it."

Then, addressing a couple who sat near, I said:

"I do wish you would tell me where that baggage went to."

"The conductor carried it away."

"Where did he go to?"

"I don't know, Miss."

Dear me; helped the old lady aboard with my baggage, I thought.

"Why, what's the matter now, Miss Fulton?" asked Mr. Randall, who had followed me. "What's gone?"

"Why, my baggage; it's gone again."

"Well, that's too bad; but come with me and perhaps we may find it in here." And we entered the baggage room just in time to save Gov. Garber's house from blowing away (the picture), but found the rest all carefully stored. Twice lost and twice found; twice sad and twice glad, and a good lesson learned.

The Burlington and Missouri River Railroad first began work at Plattsmouth, on the Missouri river, in 1869, and reached Lincoln July 20, 1870. From Lincoln it reaches out in six different lines. But this table will give a better idea of the great network of railroads under the B. & M. Co.'s control. The several divisions and their mileage are as follows:

Pacific Junction to Kearney 196

Omaha line 17

Nebraska City to Central City 150

Nebraska City to Beatrice 92

Atchison to Columbus 221

Crete to Red Cloud 150

Table Rock to Wymore 38

Hastings to Culbertson 171

Denver Extension 244

Kenesaw cut-off to Oxford 77

Chester to Hebron 12

DeWitt to West Line 25

Odell to Washington, Kan. 26

Nemaha to Salem 18

The Burlington and Missouri River Railroad, being a part of the C.B. & Q. system, forms in connection with the latter road the famous "Burlington Route," known as the shortest and quickest line between Chicago and Denver, and being the only line under one management, tedious and unnecessary delays and transfers at the Missouri river are entirely avoided.

P. S. Eustis of Omaha, Neb., who is very highly spoken of, stands at the head of the B. & M.R.R. as its worthy General Passenger Agent, while R. R. Randall of Lincoln, Neb., Immigration Agent B. & M.R.R. Co., of whom I have before spoken, will kindly and most honestly direct all who come to him seeking homes in the South Platte country. His thorough knowledge of the western country and western life, having spent most of his years on the frontier, particularly qualifies him for this office.

MILFORD.

"The Saratoga of Nebraska." So termed for its beautiful "Big Blue" river, which affords good boating and bathing facilities, its wealth of thick groves of large trees, and the "dripping spring," that drips and sparkles as it falls over a rock at the river bank. As before, Mr. Randall had prepared my way, and a carriage awaited me at the depot. I was conveyed to the home of Mr. J. H. Culver, where I took tea. Mrs. Culver is a daughter of Milford's pioneer, Mr. J. L. Davison, who located at M. in 1864, and built the first house. He built a mill in '66, and from the mill, and the fording of the river at this point by the Mormons, Indians, and emigrants, was derived the name for the town that afterward grew up about him.

Through the kindness of the Davison family our stay at Milford was made very pleasant. Riding out in the evening to see the rich farming land of the valley, and in the morning a row on the river and ramble through the groves that have been a resting-place to so many weary travelers and a pleasure ground for many a picnic party. Indeed, Milford is the common resort for the Lincoln pleasure parties. It is twenty miles due west of the capital, on the B. & M.R.R., which was built in 1880. Mr. Davison told of how they had first located on Salt Creek, near where is now the city of Lincoln, but was then only wild, unbroken prairies. Finding the "Big Blue" was a better mill stream, he moved his stakes and drove them deep for a permanent home on its banks. He first built a log house, and soon a frame, hauling his lumber from Plattsmouth. A saw-mill was soon built on the "Blue," and lumber was plenty right at hand. The ford was abandoned for a bridge he built in '66, and to his flouring-mill came grain for a hundred miles away, as there was none other nearer than Ashland. This being the principal crossing-place of the Blue, all the vegetables they could raise were readily sold. Mrs. Culver told of selling thirty-five dollars' worth of vegetables from her little garden patch in one week, adding: "We children were competing to see who could make the most from our garden that week, and I came out only a few dollars ahead of the rest."

Mrs. D. told of how with the aid of a large dog, and armed with a broom, she had defended a neighbor's daughter from being carried away captive by a band of Indians. The story of their pioneering days was very interesting, but space will not allow me to repeat it.

In the morning I was taken through three very pretty groves. One lies high on a bluff, and is indeed a pretty spot, named "Shady Cliff." Then winding down canyon Seata, _little_ canyon, we crossed the River to the Harbor, an island which is covered with large cottonwood, elm, hickory, and ash, and woven among the branches are many grapevines--one we measured being sixteen inches in circumference--while a cottonwood measured eighteen feet in circumference. Surely it has been a harbor where many weary ones have cast anchor for a rest. Another grove, the Retreat, is even more thickly wooded and vined over, and we found its shade a very pleasant retreat on that bright sunny morning. But pleasanter still was the row of a mile down the river to the "Sparkling Springs."

Reader, go ask Professor Aughey about the rocks over which this spring flows. All I can tell you is, it looks like a great mass of dark clay into which had been stirred an equal quantity of shells of all sizes, but which had decayed and left only their impression on the hardened rock.

The river is 100 feet wide and has a rock bottom which makes it fine for bathing in, and the depth and volume of water is sufficient for the running of small steamers. School was first held in Mr. Davison's house in '69. The first church was erected by the Congregational society in '69. First newspaper was established in '70, by J. H. Culver, and gained a state reputation under the name of the "Blue Valley _Record_." Rev. H. A. French began the publication of the "_Congregational News_" in '78.

The "Milford _Ozone_" is the leading organ of the day, so named for the health-giving atmosphere that the Milfordites enjoy.

A post-office was established in '66, J. S. Davison acting as postmaster. Mail was received once a week from Nebraska City, via Camden. The mail was distributed from a dry goods box until in '70, J. H. Culver was appointed postmaster, and a modern post-office was established.

The old mill was destroyed by fire in '82, and is now replaced by a large stone and brick building costing $100,000, and has a capacity of 300 barrels per day. The population of Milford is about 600. We cross the iron bridge that now spans the river to the east banks and take a view of the new town of EAST MILFORD laid out on an eighty acre plot that borders on the river and gradually rises to the east. It is a private enterprise to establish a larger town on this particularly favored spot, where those who wish may have a home within easy reach of the capital and yet have all the beauty and advantage of a riverside home. I could scarcely resist the temptation to select a residence lot and make my home on the beautiful Blue, the prettiest spot I have yet found in Nebraska.