History of Custer County, Nebraska; a narrative of the past, with special emphasis upon the pioneer period of the county's history, its social, commercial, educational, religous, and civic developement from the early days to the present time, Part 14

Author: Gaston, William Levi, 1865- [from old catalog]; Humphrey, Augustin R., 1859- [from old catalog]
Publication date: 1919
Publisher: Lincoln, Neb., Western publishing and engraving company
Number of Pages: 1180

USA > Nebraska > Custer County > History of Custer County, Nebraska; a narrative of the past, with special emphasis upon the pioneer period of the county's history, its social, commercial, educational, religous, and civic developement from the early days to the present time > Part 14

Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).

February 22, 1875, I was born, and as far as we know 1 was the first white child born in Custer county. The following summer was a little more pros- perous. The small crops that were put in grew nicely and unmolested. 1876 brought again those dark and gloomy days. Innumerable mill- ions and millions of grasshoppers came. The hard- ships and priva- tions of the previ- ous years of drought in Custer county would have seemed luxurious and plentiful to those poor settlers during the following winter of 1876. Dear mothers and fathers who have come to Custer county in later years, feeling discontented because your children have not the luxuries and accommodations of life that you desire they should, let me lead your minds back to Custer county's earlier days, and that gloomy winter of 1876. Drifts and drifts of snow blocked the roads between our little settlement and Loup City. I should have mentioned before that Loup City consisted of a few small families living close together. and one little store in a little sod building. No provisions could be obtained short of there and Grand Island.

When I hear my mother tell of the cold

ROUNDUP OF A COYOTE HUNT IN JANUARY, 1916

winter nights that she placed the little ones in bed crying for something to cat, ( she had nothing in the house to give them, and her only consoling words were that papa would come soon with something to eat ) it makes me feel that we are very ungrateful for the bless- ings that we enjoy at the present time.

ONE OF THE OLD SETTLERS

Before the buffalo was the coyote; before the Indian was the coyote; before the white hunter and the trapper was the coyote: be- fore the cattlemen was the coyote; before the settlers was the coyote: before the yellow- haired scrub cur of former and latter days was the coyote ; before the deer-hound, fox- hound , grey- hound. Russian wolf-hound, was the coyote. When the coyote first settled in the county. records fail to disclose. He was here be- fore the first and hangs to his loca- tion with a tenaci- ty that prophesies he will be the last. If he has been credited with priority. he deserves it. He is fleet-footed enough to maintain his ad- vance position when pursued by fastest" horse or hounds. Consequently it is per- fectly proper to describe him as being "be- fore" all the rank and file of his enemies. He has been the object of every pursuit - the phantom of every chasc. He is the fastest member of Custer county society and has but little difficulty in maintaining his lead, no mat- ter what is after him. Velvet-footed, willowy- formed. Gibson-necked, keen-scented, he comes and goes without advance agent or press com- ment by the society editor. No matter where he goes or how he goes, he carries an appetite for chicken that outrivals the combination of a colored Methodist preacher. His habits have gotten him into ill-repute with the sheepmen

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and cattlemen. His fondness for lamb for Sun- day dinner is in a measure offset by his fond- ness for small pigs during the week. He has al- ways possessed a latent propensity that entitles him to be called a "sport." If there is a circle hunt staged in any portion of the county, he is sure to be there and likely to be one of the leaders.

Whether he deserves it or not, the versatile

RUINS OF OLD JEFFERSON POSTOFFICE, 1887

quill of George B. Mair pays him the following tribute and prophesies his "nunc dimittis." It is far easier to subscribe to the Mair de- scription and tribute than to swallow his pro- phesy and hopefully await its fulfillment. Mair says :

"The coyote is quite a large animal, although some of them are not so much so. They do most of their rustling nights, when honest folks are supposed to be in bed, and attend to

their sleeping in the daytime. Once in a while he stays out until after daylight. On such occasions he may be seen making a sneak across the prairie in the direction of his hole, with his tail between his hind legs, look- ing about to see if he has been discovered, and trying to invent some story to tell his wife when he gets home.

"What he lacks in beauty is more than made up in ugliness. The knowledge that he is no beauty has undoubtedly soured his originally sunny disposition and caused him to shun society and look out of the corners of his eyes.

"The crowning glory of the coyote is his magnificent voice. We have heard the roar of the fierce Numidian lion in his den at Fore- paugh's circus and the melodious ya-hoo of the jackass, but we never realized the weird and sublime power of music until we attended a moonlight rehearsal given by a pack of coy- otes the first night we struck Custer county.

"But civilization and poisoned meat are get- ting in their deadly work for him. Some day the last gray-headed patriarch will sit on the brow of yon beetling cliff, with his form sil- houetted against the rising moon, and then he will be seen no more. And a weatherbeaten pelt hanging on the end of an old corn crib will be the only remaining relic of a vanished race."

CHAPTER VI

OLD SETTLERS' STORIES

ENTERTAINS BOB OLIVE - A WILD NIGHT FOR HANS - BOB HUNTER HAS CLOSE CALL - MIRS. HUNTER LEARNS THE WAY OF THE WEST - "A WISE COW TALE" - TERRIBLE FALL IN A DEEP WELL - A THOUSAND ELK IN ONE HERD - MADE HIS OWN POWDER - WON BY A NOSE - A BACK-ACTING WEDDING FEE - A PLUCKY CUSTER COUNTY WOMAN - WAS A JUSTICE ALL RIGHT - GOD AND BOBLITS - A COURTSHIP IN THE COURT'S OFFICE - EXPERIENCES OF A "SCHOOL MARM" - LIFE TOO SHORT FOR A SOD ROOF - ENTERTAINED THE PAWNEES - ALL READY FOR INDIANS - MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF TRAPPER - A FIGHT FOR "DEER LIFE" - SAVED ONE BED - J. D. HASKELL'S PERONAL EXPERIENCE - DOUGLASS FINDS RELICS - JESS GANDY JOINS THE ELKS - MRS. GANDY ENTERTAINS A STRANGER - JESS GANDY RIDES A BUFFALO - THE MASONS BURIED HIM - THE FIRST GREAT FLAG POLE - THE FIRST COUNTY SEAT CONTEST - A HOSPITABLE ROOF - A LITTLE SPORT WITHI GUNS - LASSOED AN ELK - LOST IN THE SAND HILLS - HUNTERS FIND GAME IN THE BED - HAD NO RELIGION - ONE OF THE COUNTY "DADS" - A PRAIRIE FIRE - TWIN TRAGEDIES - A WATERMELON STAMPEDE - IT KILLED THE TOAD - DAN GOT THE LOGS - INDIAN SCARES - THIE GRASSHOPPER A BURDEN - A LAND QUARREL - GRASSHOPPERS CHEWED TOBACCO - THE SENATOR WAS NOT HANDSOME - BURLIN AND KELLEN- BARGER HAVE SOME EXPERIENCE - A RACE THROUGH THE STORM - SOME- THING OF A "MIXUP" - NEARLY RUINED HIS EYE

The sum total of all history is the recital of events just as they occurred, by those who were actors in the scenes, and had a chance to see and hear. First hand. or personal, knowledge is the authority of final appeal. Thousands of things happen in every country that by the very nature of conditions could not be recorded, in accessible files. If these things are ever unearthed and published the old settlers must recite them. Matters of personal experience. hand to hand struggles with early conditions, incidents both humorous and tragic. views of private life, and countless other things, told by the old settlers, have been collected and grouped in this chapter.

Each story is complete in itself and has no relation to any other in the chapter. In each case the truth is vouched for by the one to whom the story is credited. In the aggregate they cover the entire range of county history and will give to any reader a realistic view of

the conditions which have prevailed in the county during the developing years. Read the stories of the settlers and you will see the settlers, their homes. their farms, their schools, their churches, their difficulties. their defeats and triumphs, and with all you run the gamut of the years through which they have passed. The humorous vein which runs through the entire collection is a fine tribute to the heroic actors, who cultivated the spirit of cheerfulness under the most trying circum- stances.

ENTERTAINS BOB OLIVE

[C. R. Mathews gives the following account of a visit paid him by Bob Olive and some of his cowboys. The judge was at home to his visitors and furnished plenty of corn and hay while the neighbors furnished plenty of camphor. as the narrative discloses. ]

I had been contemplating a trip to Douglas

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Grove late in November. and had gathered ten or twelve bushels of corn to leave at the house to feed my stock while I was gone. It was in sacks in a wagon, and I intended to start the next morning. That evening Bob Olive, alias Stevens, rode up with about a dozen of his cowboys and twenty-five or thirty ponies. He walked into the house without going through the formality of knocking at the door. and remarked that it was "awful d-d cold." He kindly told me that if I would give him enough corn to feed his herd of ponies that he would not turn them out to help themselves. I told him that I hoped he would not turn the horses out, as they would tear down my stacks and that he could have all the corn he wanted if he would go out in the field and husk it.

"What is the matter with this corn in the wagon ?" he inquired. "That is corn I brought up for my hogs while I am gone to Douglas Grove," I explained.

He made no further remark, but deliberate- ly emptied the corn out on the ground, where it was soon eaten up by the horses. The out- fit concluded to stay with me all night without asking my permission, helped themselves to my coffee and anything else they could find, wrapped themselves up in their blankets and went to sleep. Olive was taken sick during the night with cholera morbus and routed his men out to see if anything for his relief could be found in the settlement. There was no doc- tor within eighty miles, so they went to Mr. Boley's and came back with a bottle of cam- phor. Mrs. Ross also let them have a bottle of camphor, and Mrs. Forsyth, for a change, sent another bottle of camphor. Mrs. Lough- ran and Mrs. Merchant, having no other kind of medicine in their houses, also sent a bottle of camphor apiece. As the men came in one after the other with the camphor, Bob got as mad as a hornet and smashed the bottles on a saddle that hung in a corner of the room. During the same night our neighbor. Smith, had the honor of entertaining two or three of the cowboys. They piled into the bed along- side of him, with their clothes on, and enjoyed a good night's rest.

A WILD NIGHT FOR HANS

Early in the '80's the pioneers on the Middle Loup put in most of their time in winter hauling wood from the canyons and getting out cedar for posts. They also went on the islands in the river and cut white willow for making corrals. There was a fine willow island about ten miles above the settlement, near the Rankin ranch, which the ranch people rather laid claim to, but for all this the settlers hauled a great portion of it away, especially a German, whom we will call Hans. He would go up and get his load, pull to the ranch for supper and lodging and breakfast. Of course, no charges were made by Mr. Rankin for such trifles.

It finally became an old story. One night Hans came as usual and it happened on this particular night Billie Erickson (better known among the cowboys as "Bill America"), Charles Austin, and Wright Rankin were at the ranch, and all you have to do after twenty years have elapsed to get a hearty laugh out of the boys is to say "Hogs in the ranch." It seems it was a put-up job to have some fun at Hans' expense. Rankin was to play crazy, and after supper the boys very con- fidentially told Hans that Rankin was crazy, and no difference what he did he musn't make him mad. Presently Rankin took a fit, chew- ing soap to make foam run out of his mouth. grabbed Hans and danced him all over the room until he almost wore the poor man out. There was a red-hot cook stove in the room and Rankin in his grand right and left would try to force Hans on top of the stove. which he avoided by nimbly jumping over it. taking the whole thing as a huge joke rather than get the crazy man mad. Finally they unrolled their beds on the floor, and Austin and Rankin occupied one bed, while Bill and Hans took the other. In a little while Ran- kin took another fit and declared there were hogs in the ranch. "Listen, Charlie ; can't you hear 'em breathe?" "No, Wright." responds Austin, "that's Hans and Billie." "But I say it is not and, I am going to kill one and we will have some meat. Hand me my Winches- ter, easy, so as not to scare 'em."

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Charlie tries to reason with him, while poor Hans is scared till he daren't hardly move. At last Rankin makes a grab for his Winchester, while Charlie shouts to warn the boys to look out, Rankin has his gun. Bang! Bang! goes the gun, shooting just over their heads. Billie jumps up and yells like a Sioux and he and Charlie grapple with Rankin to get the gun, while Hans fairly splits the wind to get out at the door. The boys finally get Ran- kin back to bed and succeed in convincing him there are no hogs in the ranch. It is a bitter cold night and Hans did not stop in his flight even to secure his clothes. After a while he knocked timidly on the door, when Rankin jumped up and wanted to know who was there? "It's Hans." "Why, sure enough, Hans. it is you ; come right in ; have you fed your horses? Of course, you haven't had any supper : the coffee is warm yet. and I will have you a bite in a jiffy." "Oh, no; Mr. Rankin," replied Hans, his teeth chatter- ing with the cold; "I will just go to bed."

After a while Rankin again imagines there are hogs in the ranch - Bang! Bang! Bang! goes the old Winchester in that direction. Another scuffle with Rankin by Billie and Austin to get his gun. while poor Hans darts out into the chilly night very thinly clad, and after a while manages to slip in without dis- turbing the crazy man who sleeps quietly till morning. While Hans is out next morning caring for his team, Charles Austin bored a hole about six inches above Hans' pillow, blackening it so it would appear like a fresh bullet hole, and to this day Hans thinks his life was spared only by a miracle.

BOB HUNTER HAS CLOSE CALL

Bob Hunter was one of the early-day cattle buyers and went through the usual experi- ences of cattle buyers at that time. He says, "I have been in the saddle buying cattle, a head or two here and a few more at another place, for days and weeks at a time. We had to drive through heat and cold, fording frozen rivers and generally at night had to camp out on the prairie without very many camping accommodations. Houses were very

few and far between, and with a tired bunch of cattle you generally had to stop where night overtook you.

"I remember one night especially, when my men and I were driving a bunch of white- faces which we were bringing to the home ranch, We camped near a deserted sod house and as soon as we could round up everything. we turned in for the night. Toward morn- ing we were awakened by shots which we thought were altogether too close for comfort. On investigation we found the house sur- rounded by a posse who were after a Mexican and an Oklahoma white man who had been committing stock depredations and were want- ed down in Oklahoma for horse stealing. If I hadn't been a smooth talker they would probably have taken us along with them, but as it was, I succeeded in convincing them that they were mistaken."

MRS. HUNTER LEARNS THE WAY OF THE WEST

The present generation will never know the peculiar conditions and privations under which the pioneers began life in Custer county. These experiences were especially hard on the women. Mrs. Martha A. Hunter, who with her husband, pioneered in the vicinity of Bro- ken Bow, and who is a very versatile writer, gives us this glimpse of early sod house life:

"Erc long the little sod abode was ready for occupancy and as the family brought little or no house furnishings, two beds were im- provised by nailing split saplings to the rafters above and to the floor below and the same across, upon which were placed bed ticks filled with dry hay and above all feather beds, making a very comfortable resting place.

"Fuel was an object of much concern to the family as the winter drew near, but corn, which was the principal fuel used by the neighbors, could be obtained readily for eight cents per bushel, and the supply of buffalo and cow chips to be had for the gathering, added to the supply, which proved adequate for the winter.

"In the summer of 1890 occurred the first of the only two complete drouths in the his- tory of Custer county. The second followed

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four years later, in 1894. The first drouth was especially hard on the Hunter family and others who had stock. They had not been long enough in the country to know the rich food properties contained in the short, curly buffalo grass that covered the hills like a thick mat and which was abundantly rich in food properties,- so much so that stock turned loose upon it during the winter time not only lived but also kept in good condi- tion. But this we did not find out until after this hard winter, because we had to drive the cattle up into Cherry county for the winter.

"I worried much about the education of our two small daughters, and felt that it was not right or fair to them to keep them in the hills, but God opened the way not only in providing for their education, but in furnishing a sup- port for the family, which in those days was very welcome and much appreciated. I was appointed teacher in a school district seven miles from our home. We drove these seven miles to school each morning and returned in the evening, but thought that no hardship. Even though we faced many a storm and blizzard yet we always got through: and in the end had the pleasure of seeing our daugh- ters graduate from the Broken Bow high school."

"A WISE COW TALE"

Al Wise of the South Loup country tells this one:

wishing to take the trouble to saddle a horse, I went over to her on foot to assist her out of her difficulty. I soon saw that there was fight in her, but concluded she was too weak to make me any trouble. Grabbing her tail, I passed it over my shoulder and gave it several twists around my arm, getting as much of it in my hand as possible. The old cow puffed and shook her head in protest. I paid no attention to her objections, but bent my back and lifted. The cow did likewise, and the way that old heifer got on her feet took the breath out of me. I saw that she was on the warpath, and that my only hope of safety was to keep hold of her tail. With a bellow she turned her glaring eyes around on me and took after me, spinning around like a top. By keeping a firm hold on her tail I just man- aged to keep a few inches ahead of her long horns. After a few turns to the right she tried it a while to the left, but with no better success. The waltz was becoming awfully monotonous to me, and as we worked toward a bank about ten feet high, by the edge of the river. I dropped her tail and jumped over the bank with one bound. The cow was a little dazed by the performance, but as soon as she realized the situation she made for the bank, probably with the intention of following me, but gave it up when she came to the foot of it, pawed the ground and bellowed her de- fiance, and walked away shaking her head, probably hooking me in her mind. Two days after this, as I was riding along the bank of the river, I saw the old lady down again, but I concluded to leave her to her fate, and for all I know her bones are buried in the mittd where I last saw her."

"At the time of the Olive trial most of the men connected with that ranch were absent as witnesses, help was very scarce at the ranch, and the few that were left there were principally engaged in 'tailing up' cows that were so poor that they got stuck in the mud along the river and were not able to get TERRIBLE FALL IN A DEEP WELL up without assistance. Did you ever attempt The depth to water on the table-lands of Custer county entailed many hardships on the early settlers. None of them had the means to sink modern wells to such a depth, and had consequently to resort to the laborious method of hauling water in barrels from the lower lands, often having to go as far as six miles wells from 200 to 300 feet in depth and hauled to 'tail up' a spirited, ambitious cow ? If not, you have missed a whole lot of fun - and so has the cow. A little experience of mine in that direction may be entertaining - it was to me. I had been down at the corral attending to 'some horses when I noticed a cow on the bank of the river trying to get on her feet. . for it. Some of the settlers on the tables dug but falling back after each attempt. Not

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water out of them by horse power. The ex- istence of these fearful holes in the ground, mostly without curbing, resulted in many ac cidents, some of which will be found de- scribed in others parts of this work. In the fall of 1895 F. W. Carlin fell into a well 143 feet deep, and in the Custer County Beacon of September 5th of that year, he thus de- scribes the manner in which he climbed out :

"While driving through the country about fifteen miles northwest of Broken Bow ou the evening of August 14th, it became quite dark and I found I had taken the wrong track and driven up to some old sod build- ing. I turned around and started down what looked to me like a good road into the draw, when one of my horses seemed to step down into a place. I got out of the wagon and started alongside of the team to be sure that the road was all right, when without a mo- ment's notice I became aware of the fact that I had stepped into an old well and was going down like a shot out of a gun.

"I placed my feet close together, stretched my arms straight over my head and said, 'Oh God, have mercy on me!' and I honestly believe that saved my life, but I went down. down, and it seemed to me I would never reach the bottom. The further I went, the faster I went and never seemed to touch the sides at all.

"I supposed, of course, it would kill me when I struck bottom, but God had heard my prayer. I struck in the mud and water, which com- pletely covered me over. I was considerably stunned, but was able to straighten up and get my head above the water. I scrambled around, gradually extracting my legs from the mud. and finally stood on my feet in the water, which came just up to my arms. It was very cold, and I tried a number of times to get out of the water only to fall back. The curbing was somewhat slimy. I finally managed to break off a small piece from the curbing and found a crack in which I managed to fasten it and perched myself upon it until morning. While sitting there I heard my team running away. In them was my only hopes of rescue. For I was aware of the fact

that I was at least a mile and a half from the nearest house, and that no one knew that I was there.

"There I sat till morning. It was about nine o'clock when I fell in, and I was drenched with water and plastered with mud. The only serious injury I received was a badly sprained ankle, which gave me great pain. I also had a sore place on my back, which I found a number of days afterward to be a broken rih. As soon as daylight appeared, I began to look around and take in the situa- tion. In looking up, it seemed to me at least 100 feet to the top. But I learned afterward that it was exactly 143 feet deep.

"The well was curbed in places with curb- ing about three feet square. There would be a place curbed for about six to sixteen feet and then there would be a place that was not curbed at all. The curbing was per- fectly tight, not a crack between them that I could get my fingers into, and cov- ered with a slimy mud. I at once con- cluded that my only chance for rescue was my knife, if it had not fallen out of my pocket while floundering in the mud, so thrusting my hand into my pocket, there it was, and a good one too. I took it and began cutting foot-holes in the sides of the curbing; it was very slow but sure. I never went back a foot after I had gained it. When I would get to the top of the curbing, I took the boards that I had cut out and made me a seat in one corner, and in this way I think I got up about fifty feet the first day. Some time in the afternoon I came to a curbing which I thought I could not get through ; it was of solid one-by-six boards closely fitted together and not less than six- teen feet to the top of it. So I made my- self a good seat, fixing myself as comfortable as possible. I concluded that I must stay here and await assistance, or die there.

"I stayed there all the next night and slept one-half of the time, for the night did not seem very long. I would have been quite comfortable had I not been so wet and cold, and my feet pained me terribly, which was the greatest drawback. I had to do most of my climbing on one foot.

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"I remained at that point the greater part of the next forenoon, calling often for help. One thing was in my favor; I was neither hungry nor thirsty. I began to give up all hopes. I thought of my wife and little boy; who were always so glad to see me when I came home from a trip. I thought how the little fellow would never see his papa or run to meet him when he returned home again. That was too great. I made up my mind that I would get out or die in the attempt. So I took a piece of board and put some sand on it and got the point of my knife good and sharp and began cutting away the curbing and making one foot hole after another. I cut, climbing higher and higher, and was at last on top of the curbing. From there I would have been comfortable if my feet had not hurt me so badly. But I cut holes in the clay for my hands and feet with my knife and finally I got within about sixteen feet of the top. Right there I had the worst hind- rance I had met yet. It was a round curbing four feet high and perfectly smooth on the inside. It was washed out around it until it was only held from dropping by a little peg on one side. I knew if I tried to go up through it, it was pretty sure to break loose and go to the bottom with me. So my only chance was to go up between the curb and the wall. This I was fortunate in doing. By going to work and digging away the wall, in half an hour I had a hole large enough to let me pass through. After that it was but a short job to reach the top, which I did, and I lay for some time exhausted.

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History of Custer County, Nebraska; a narrative of the past, with special emphasis upon the pioneer period of the county's history, its social, commercial, educational, religous, and civic developement from the early days to the present time, Part 14

Author: Gaston, William Levi, 1865- [from old catalog]; Humphrey, Augustin R., 1859- [from old catalog] Publication date: 1919 Publisher: Lincoln, Neb., Western publishing and engraving company Number of Pages: 1180

Author: Gaston, William Levi, 1865- [from old catalog]; Humphrey, Augustin R., 1859- [from old catalog]
Publication date: 1919
Publisher: Lincoln, Neb., Western publishing and engraving company
Number of Pages: 1180