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rent, and generally provisions to sell. One man, we remember, brought a fine suit of clothes and traded them to us for salt. A party brought us two four-horse wagon loads, 5,000 pounds, of flour from Winterset, Iowa, and we made him an even exchange of 5,000 pounds of salt for it. It was a lively time, for hundreds were coming and going continually during the fall.

We remember several distinguished visitors of that fall, among whom was the Hon. O. P. Mason, and the Hon. J. Sterling Morton. We treated them to slap jacks of our own make, which the Judge seemed to relish, but our friend Morton did not seem to appreciate our cooking, just why has always been a mystery to us. Hon. P. W. Hitchcock, afterwards United States Senator, and his Excellency, Governor Saunders, (he was then our governor) also made us a visit. They were not repairing fences, but quite likely they were examining J. Sterling Morton's fence around the saline land. Many of lesser note visited us during the fall.

Late in the fall we moved our family to Salt Creek and wintered in one apartment of the log cabin that Mr. Donevan occupied, and as the salt business always ceases when winter begins, we put in the time as best we could, chasing rabbits, &c. Uncle Dick Wallingford, learning that we had graduated at the carpenter's bench, besought us to build him a house. We suppose that we have the honor of building for Uncle Dick the first frame building in Lancaster County, in the winter of '61-62. We made the doors of black walnut lumber that was about as hard as glass. We also remember the struggle we had one night in the following summer in making a coffin for Grandmother Wallingford out of that hard lumber.

We took up our abode at the Basin with the wife and two children, on the 1st day of May, 1862. That same day a county convention was held at the Basin, and nearly every man in the county was there; but we remember none of the proceedings, as we were occu pied in setting our house in order. Two or three days later, Milton Langdon arrived with his family and took up their abode just west of the B. & M. bridge north of Oak Creek. The season of 1862 was exceedingly prosperous. Great numbers of people came and went every day. Numerous other furnaces were started, and the salt works presented quite the appearance of business.

Here we must beg indulgence while we relate a little story: In

the winter of '62-'63, there was an old fellow by the name of Ben Vanthiesen camping and boiling salt, and there was an Indian camp a little distance away. The Indians had been bothering Ben until he had become impatient with them. A young, stalwart brave thought to play a joke on him, and approached him with the usual aborigine's salutation, "How", and at the same time offered Ben a finely polished ramrod, which he reached out to take, when Mr. Injin struck him a violent blow across the knuckles. Ben couldn't stand that, and quick as thought returned the compliment with his fist, propelled by his stalwart arm. The blow took effect just under the ear of the young brave, and he reeled backward and sat down in the pan of boiling salt water. A sharp shriek, and Mr. Injin jumped for life, and ran wildly into the swamp and mired down, hallowing all sorts of bloody murder in the Indian tongue. Other braves went to his relief and carried him to camp. He was thoroughly cooked and well salted. The little settlement soon became alarmed, fearing that the Indians would be enraged and seek vengeance. A hurried consultation was had, and the camp was visited to learn, if possible, the temper of the red-skins. We found the man almost dead, and while he was writhing in agony the other Indians were making all sorts of fun of him, calling him squaw man, &c, and pointing their fingers at him. Finally Ben Venthiesen appeared on the scene and they began at once to lionize him, as if to further tantalize the poor unfortunate. They finally made a litter of a buffalo robe and carried him away with them, while in a dying condition.

On the morning of the 4th of July, wife suggested that we celebrate by gathering a lot of gooseberries, of which there were great quantities. Just as we had filled our buckets, we heard someone hallowing and as we emerged from the bush who should we see but Elder Young and party, consisting of the Rev. Peter Schamp, Dr. McKesson, Mr. Warnes, Luke Lavender, and Jacob Dawson. They were on the search for a suitable location for a colony. They were patriotic, and had not forgotten the flag. Dinner was quickly provided and disposed of, the neighbors were called in, and we had a celebration that was a feast to the soul. As the dear old elder talked to us of our blessed flag and how it had been trailed in the dust by recreant hands, and of the mighty struggle that was then going on to maintain its supremacy, how our hearts swelled with emotion, as

we realized that our country and our all was at the moment trembling in the balance. This was probably the first time our national flag ever kissed the breezes of Lancaster county, and it was an occasion long to be remembered by all the participants. Some, we know not how many, of that little group have gone to their long home. Uncle Jacob Dawson lived just long enough to see the foundations of Lincoln well laid, and was called away. Our dear friend, Elder Young, lived to see the city of his founding great and strong, and marching forward to greater achievements, and he was gathered to his fathers, full of years and full of honors."

In the second week in July, and after making a thorough examination of the surrounding country, the party made a settlement on the land where Lincoln now stands, and dedicated a portion of section twenty-two for a town site, and christened it Lancaster. Lancaster did not grow as more modern towns do. A few settlers began to arrive and settled on the beautiful lands in the vicinity; but not many cared to try their hands at building a city just then. Town building was a slow process in those days, so far inland.

It must be remembered that the bill providing for the Union Pacific Railroad had passed but the previous winter, and the eastern terminus had not been fixed by the President. Our nearest railroad was at St. Joseph, Mo. and Ottumwa, Iowa, and further it was yet very questionable as to whether our upland prairie was of any value for agricultural purposes. The farms were all yet confined to the creek bottoms. Prairie fires would sweep the prairies just as soon as the grass was dry in the fall, and leave the roots exposed to the scorching rays of the autumn sun, and then to the frosts of winter. The snow would gather into huge drifts, there being nothing to hold it except the ravines. This resulted in very short grass crops on the upland and frequently there was scarcely enough to hide a garter snake in midsummer. People saw the fact, that the prairie produced but little grass, but were slow to discover the causes, and were ready to condemn the land as worthless for cultivation. Some are lead to believe that great changes have taken place in the general character of the soil, as well as the climate. We have frequently been asked if this land was not all covered with buffalo grass. To this question we answer most emphatically No. It may have been at some remote period, but never since white men have known it. Many are of

the opinion that it scarcely ever rained in those early days. That is certainly a mistake. The summer of 1860 produced scarcely any rain (we well remember that year of the Kansas famine-we resided at Nebraska City at the time) and to help matters along there were sixteen days and nights of continuous hot south wind. It was almost insufferably hot, so stifling it was that people could not bear to sit in the wind, even late in the evenings, but would be compelled to seek a windbreak. Except that memorable year rains were just as plentiful, and as well distributed through the growing season in those years as they are now, and vegetation where it had a fair show made the same luxuriant growth, but we do not wonder that the overland immigrant that passed through this country in the early spring, or late in the fall pronounced this a desert land, for as far as the eye could reach in all directions nothing could be seen but the black prairie; most dreary indeed was the spectacle. There being nothing to retain the moisture and the sun bearing down on the defenceless head, and the dancing vapor playing in the distance like specters, it did not seem that it ever could be a fit abode for civilized man.

It took men and women of strong nerve and great faith to attempt to build a home in this wilderness then, but there were some brave souls that were equal to the hour, and such were the men who founded Lancaster. The story of the founding of the embryo city and the struggle over the location of the county seat is an interesting theme. The settlement at the Yankee hill (where the insane hospital now stands) under the leadership of John Cadman and Wm. Field. made an interesting and energetic fight for the prize. These men looked with jealousy upon the Lancaster colony. Our friend Cadman was wide awake and with a fertile brain, and was ready for almost any emergency. It will be remembered that the boundaries of the county were materially changed in the winter of 1862 and '63. Friend Cadman secured the election to the Legislature from old Clay county. John Gregory was by some trick of legerdemain elected to represent Lancaster, and Hon. H. W. Parker was sent from Gage. The trio each had an ax to grind. Parker wanted to make the county seat secure for Beatrice and Cadman wanted to spoil Elder Young's little game and make a new town, and clothe it with the honors of the county seat. So they arranged and carried through the scheme to elminate Clay county from the map of Nebraska, and

give to Gage the south twelve miles, and the north twelve miles to Lancaster in the interest of Cadman and his friends. Thus it came that Gage and Lancaster are each thirty-six miles long, and that Clay county was buried out of sight to be resurrected at a later day further to the west. We have never been able to learn just what interest our friend Gregory was to have, but suppose he was to be endorsed for the Postoffice at a salary of one dollar per month at the Basin, and also to have his name perpetuated by re-naming the Great Salt Basin "Gregory Basin", both of which he secured, but the honors of his office and the name were very much like a soap bubble, they got away from him in a very short time. Cadman and his friends lost no time in fixing upon a point for their new town at Yankee Hill, and then came the tug of war. About this time what was known as the Steam Wagon road was located from Nebraska City to the west and the crossing of Salt Creek fixed at Yankee Hill. An appropriation of five hundred dollars was secured by the Legislature for a bridge on Salt Creek in Lancaster county, to be located by territorial commissioners. When these gentlemen came to fix the location of the bridge, the Lancaster party headed by Elder Young, and the Yankee Hill folks led by Cadman, each made an earnest showing why they should have the bridge, and we take it for granted that each succeeded in convincing the commissioners that their claim was the best, for they divided the money between the two points and thus with the aid of private help two good bridges were secured. Each place made slow progress, a little store and a blacksmith shop were secured by each. Lancaster had the help of the salt interest to assist it while its rival had the freight road. Each had energetic men as leaders and they were equally well situated, but Lancaster had the sympathy of the greater number of the people of the county. Friend Cadman had roused the ire of all his old neighbors on the heads of Salt Creek. They were very sore over having all their pleasant dreams of a county seat at Olathe suddenly disappear and their county torn in two and swallowed by her greedy sisters.

When the county seat problem came before the people for settlement the Lancaster folks had a walkaway and secured a grand triumph at the polls.

The county seat election occurred in the summer of 1864, and was held at the house of your humble servant just south of the Great

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