EARLY HISTORY OF FRONTIER COUNTY NEBRASKA

EARLY HISTORY AND REMINISCENCE
OF
FRONTIER COUNTY
NEBRASKA

Ho' Brothers, come hither and listen to my story,
Merry and brief will the narrative be;
Here, like a monarch, I reign in my glory;
Master am I, boys, of all that I see.
Where once frowned a forest, garden is wailing,
The meadow and moorland are marshes no more;
And there curls the smoke of my cottage beguiling
The children who cluster like grapes at the door.
Then, enter, boys; cheerily, boys, enter and rest;
The land of the heart is the land of the West.

Well, boys, I am going to follow my trail back to 1870, when came into the Medicine Valley--and the true facts are in store for you. It is rather a lonely trip, as I am left alone: a part of my companions then have long since gone to that far away hunting ground, while the others, like the Arab, have folded their tents and silently stolen away.

The first settlers in the Medicine Valley found no exception to the numerous hardships endured by pioneers of other portions of the Great West. To settle down in this wild country, the nearest habitation being Fort McPherson, fifty miles away, not a road, bridge or church to guide the weary traveler, who was exposed to heat and cold, rain and drouth, lawless bands of white men, Indians and grasshoppers; to tramp down the prickly pears and kill the (9) rattlesnakes, hunt the elk and buffalo, haul the meat to the fort and trade, it for supplies--was not as romantic as some may think. Yet pleasures were strewn along the weird scenes that would appear upon our horizon and pass away like the morning dew. We were free from the banker, lawyer, doctor and mortgages; we had no church quarrels, no grades in society or wealth; no parties or politics; all worked together and shared alike.

The first settlers here had passed over this territory on a trip through the west but found no place as good or inviting as the Medicine Valley. Here the Indian ponies were fat and could run all day with no feed but the buffalo grass. I did not know then that this would become an agricultural land, but thought it the best stock country in the world. Daily hundreds of fat buffalos, deer, elks, antelopes and wild horses came down to the Medicine creek to drink. Wild turkeys were numerous; the trees would be black with them when they went to roost, but they were soon killed or driven away.

BUFFALO CREED

For me these canyons and these tow'ring hills
And rushing streams have romance and a charm
I deem them riches that the brave man wills should be; More precious far than any golden vein
Of storied lore where men have fought in vain
Their fleeting earthly treasure and brief fame,
Has perished long ago, but here the name
Of valiant scout and rugged pioneer,
Are fresh in memory and it will remain,
Verdant as growing fields. The golden grain
Is but a symbol of the trust and faith
That tried beyond the years can sill behold
The Western vision glimpsed by prophets old.

--Boyd Perkin.