A REMINISCENCE OF GOVERNMENT SURVEYING

By Robert Harvey

   I surveyed the township lines of Custer County for the government in 1872, and by the last days of July had completed all but six miles of such lines south of the Fourth Standard Parallel. On a July day I camped at the corner Townships 15 and 16 north, Ranges 23 and 24 west, near the northeast edge of a beautiful round flat valley.
   The depression is, no doubt a very remote lake bed, or basin formed by the rocking of an ancient iceberg.
   One afternoon I started north on the last six miles of the range line of this part of the work and ascended the long grassy south slope of a high hill or promontory. After considerable labor and fatigue, I reached the summit of the clean cut northeast rim. The diagonal descent along the steep northeast slope was attained with considerable difficulty, and having reached the bottom I found that the bluffs' dark shadows cast far out into the valley, rendering farther progress that evening impossible. We proceeded to camp, which we found on the right bank of the south branch of the South Loup River, designated in the old geographies as "Carrey's Fork."
   Next morning we resumed the work of projecting our abandoned line northward, and at the half mile corner between sections 13 and 18, we crossed a small spring brook having its source in springs under the east slope of the high bluff. A little farther north we ascended an elevated clay spur formed by the river on the north and the little brook on the southeast. The bluff terminated a little east of our line in a low bottom covered with wild hemp and sunflowers.
   Crossing this spur I noticed a deeply cut wagon track, which appeared to have been made in soft wet ground and then grass grown. This excited my curiosity and turning down the trail a few yards I came upon a cowbell and the spring of a wagon spring seat, common at that period. Descending to the low bench I passed to the left along the foot of the spur and near its point I suddenly came upon the door of a cave which was set flush with the perpendicularly cut bank.
   Pushing open the door I entered a room containing a fireplace at the north end, a single sleeping bunk at the south end and an old rough board table. Evidently it was the kitchen, dining room, reception hall, parlor, and cook's sleeping room. Passing through a door in the partition I

entered a large room which had feed stalls arranged along the north side and west end, and sleeping bunks along the south side. Some shelled corn was scattered about and a copy of Harpers Weekly of the previous June lay on the floor.
   On the outside I searched in the grass and weeds for signs of occupancy, but found no tracks or paths leading to the river or creek. But at the water's edge of the brook I found a block about three feet long, cut from a cottonwood and pegged with forked stakes to hold it fast so one could stand upon it and dip water from the brook.
   The discovery of such an abode, far from any settlement, and in an Indian infested country where hunters had not yet ventured, was remarkable. It brought to my recollections, a story I had heard repeated in Benton County, Iowa, three years before. The story ran that a young man of the neighborhood had gone west in 1866 or 1867, and joined a band of horse thieves whose runway was from Mexico to the British possessions. The party with which he worked operated in Nebraska and perhaps Dakota Territory.
   One of the stations along the route was in a cave on a branch of the Loup River and near the foot of a high, dark hill, with pine timber growing along the bluffs and a little stream of spring water flowing past the mouth of the cave. Their next station was two days ride from this cave and located in a forest of pine and cedar in the canyons of the Loup River.
   The story seemed to describe this place. Here was a cave on the right bank of a branch of the Loup with a small spring brook only a few yards away. There was a high dark, frowning hill nearby, while scattering pine. timber grew along the bluffs on the opposite side of the river, and about twenty-five miles to the northeast, about two days' ride, were the cedar and pine wooded canyons of the North Loup below the mouth of the Calamus river. All of the details of the story dovetailed exactly with the place.
   In the latter part of September I was operating north of the Parallel and on the 30th pitched my camp on the long high mesa, or table land west of where Broken Bow is now located. Being almost destitute of water in the afternoon I sent two men with the light wagon to the south branch (or Carrey's Fork), I gave insructions (sic) to fill the barrels that evening and return early next morning, It was about seven miles to the river and six to our initial point on the Parallel for the survey of the line between Ranges 23 and 24 West, Township 17 North.
   On our way to the initial point we came to the south edge of the high udulating (sic) table land about three miles south

of camp when we halted to scan the country. We expected to find evidence of two surveying parties operating south of us, who should be near the close of their work and about ready to return to their homes. We had brought with us a lot of written mail, hoping we might send it with them.
   We scanned the country south, east, and west and finally observed a bright spot far up the river. It looked like the reflection from a bright surface and a dark object loomed near it. To ascertain if it was moving I directed the instrument towards it and made out that it was moving down the valley.
   After watching the object for a time we concluded it was a wagon. But our curiosity was excited when we discovered that only one or two men were walking and several rode in the wagon. This was a very unusual thing for surveyors to do when traveling over the prairie. The bright spot we had seen was the reflected sunlight from the bright tire of the hind wheel. The wagon proceeded down the valley and halted on the clay spur where our cave of July was found. Here the horses were turned out and the men passed from sight over the end of the spur.
   It was now quite late and my suspicions were thoroughly aroused. Being anxious for the safety of the teamster, who had not returned from the river, and the team, I determined to go to their relief. Sending a man to camp, we hurried to the river and reached it at dark just as the wagon arrived. The men were entirely ignorant of the presence of strangers and surprised at the suspected character of their very nearby neighbors. Giving directions for guard duty during the night, Charley Starkweather and I walked along the bank, perhaps a hundred yards, and yelled several times without receiving an answer, then fired two shots which brought a feeble voice inquiring what we wanted. We told him we were surveyors and had lost our way to camp, that we were hungry and tired and wanted accommodations for the night. The fellow told us they were strangers in the country and poorly provided, so could not entertain us. We told him there was plenty of room in the cave and we would come over.
   Fording the river we followed him to the dug out, which it really was, and instead of there being three or four men there were sixteen. After explaining who we were and our business we asked for supper and a place to sleep. We tried to be friendly and agreeable, but none of the men would talk except one about fifty years old who appeared to be the spokesman and leader. He said they were hunters and had been there about a week. They had killed one or two deers, but were out of provisions, excepting a

little coffee. A team and two men had gone that morning to Plum Creek Station on the Union Pacific Railroad for provisions, but had not returned, therefore, they could not feed us.
   It seemed very strange to us that one man did all the talking for the gang and he refused to tell us where they were from, except that he came from Iowa. It seemed equally strange to us that so many men were there, far from settlements, in an Indian country. They claimed to be hunters, yet, in a splendid game country, they had gotten only one or two deer in a week and were poorly supplied with bedding and food.
   Without supper we lay down on a blanket before the fire-place. but each of us quietly slipped a cartridge into his gun and each took a turn on guard, feigning to be asleep.
   At break of day we quietly slipped out and on going around the south side of the spur, saw two fine black horses and a new top buggy: I have been told by some of the early settlers that this was the rendezvous or hiding place of Doc Middleton; but Doc had not gained notoriety in 1872, nor do I think he had gone into the rustling business then. If this was the cave, or station, alluded to by the young man in Iowa, which I have every reason to believe it to be, Doc Middleton in 1867 and 1868 was only a boy when the cave was occupied by the horsethieves. DIAGRAM SHOWING
LOCATION OF CAVE

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AN EXPERIENCE IN OMAHA

By Casper E. Yost

Mrs. Minnie P. Knotts, Secretary,
   Nebraska Territorial Pioneers' Association, Lincoln, Nebraska.

Dear Madam:

   The following is in compliance with your request that I write a few words, if no more:
   On April 20th, 1864, I arrived in Omaha in a lumber wagon which also contained my partner -- some law books and a high hat. We had started from Ypsilanti, Michigan, not knowing exactly where we would locate. We arrived at Davenport, Iowa, and my partner desired to locate there. I said no, that I thought Des Moines had a better future and he agreed to go to Des Moines. Arriving at Des Moines we were told wonderful stories of the future of Omaha. Having decided to go to Omaha, we hired a man and team to deliver us there. We arrived in Omaha and as we did not have money to go any further West, we located here of necessity. We put up at the Douglas Hotel. On the next morning I started for the court house with my high hat. I had not gone more than a block when a man came up behind me and said, "You son of a gun, where did you get that hat?" I turned around and found the man with a revolver on each side of him in a holster and "drunker than a lord." I said nothing, but took off that hat and walked back to the hotel and never again did I wear it. I then went to the court house and the court being in session, I listened to the proceedings. The late Hon. John I. Reddick was addressing the jury. His coat was off, and the part of his talk that made the most impression on me was when he said, "Gentlemen of the jury, west of the Missouri river modesty adorns a woman and is a curse to a man." At that date Omaha had a population of about twenty-five hundred, but they claimed it was more and have from that date to the present, claimed a greater population than they had.

Very truly yours,

C. E. YOST.

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