pieces of land. It would astonish you to know their names, some of the principal men and lawyers that probably live in Omaha. We really heard that they had thrown one man into the river because he had jumped one claim, but we did not want to run any risk, and so we started down the river, understanding that there was a ferry down about half way between there and the mouth of the river where we could cross into the interior. We found that ferry had been washed out. We went on to Bellevue, and the next morning was the 4th of July. We made a very early start and went up to Omaha. We arrived in Omaha a little before noon that day, and I recollect one circumstance that I shall never forget. They told us that a man had ridden a horse upstairs on the second story where a saloon was kept, and we got there just as the horse was half down the stairs. We saw that, I think that man was Dr. Henry. We stayed there a day or two and went across to Council Bluffs and down the opposite side to nearly opposite Plattsmouth to a small little town called Jacobs. There we crossed over into Nebraska. We heard of Weeping Water falls, a very fine locality for a flouring mill. We drove out there and we found that everything there was claimed for a long distance.
   We found a party there that were going to Nebraska for the same purpose we were, so we agreed together, about eight wagons in all, that we would go up to the Big Blue. As near as I can tell we crossed not very far from where Lincoln now stands on our way to the Blue. We suffered for water on the road. We struck the Big Blue in Saline county. We did not find anything like the timber we expected to find nor the rich bottom land, so we made up our minds to go into Kansas. In Gage county we found a company there from Nebraska City. They urged us to stay. We kept on down the river, and when we got to Beatrice we found another company there, located about six weeks before we got there. They urged us to stop. I think there were some forty members in this party; they formed a company to locate that town. We commenced looking around to find it claim. We

found there were no improvements. They said every settler was entitled to a quarter-section of timberland and a prairie quarter-section. When we investigated we found that some of these were several miles from Beatrice. We finally decided to locate there for good. Finally we got land within about a mile and a half of the city, and we stayed there. My brother died about three years ago, and I am still living there. At the time we located there we had to go to Brownville to trade, sixty miles away. There were very few settlements between our place and Brownville, but the people of Brownville insisted that we leave that country and locate in Nemaha. They said, "You will be sorry that you stayed there, our land is good." We paid no particular attention to that advice, and I am very glad to say that I have been there since 1857 and expect to stay there as much longer as I can.
   MR. W. W. COX:¹ Mr. President -- I am a sort of a tenderfoot as compared with many of these speakers here, but still I was here some time ago. Very little has been said about this city and its immediate surroundings. You were all on the ground so long before Lincoln was thought of, that it has escaped your notice to tell the folks anything about how people located here once. On the 2d of July, 1861, 1 think, in company with one of the young settlers of the Dee family, I made a two-wheeled cart propelled by oxen, Back and Bright, I guess they were called. We came down from the Dee home, which was five miles south of here, and came up here. At that time there were two blind tracks across this town site, and the wild inhabitants, so far as I know of, were a beautiful drove of antelopes about where the government

square was; they were the only inhabitants of the city of Lincoln so far as I know.
   Now, I want to tell you in regard to the first settlement of this town site. On the following 4th of July, wife and I were living over here at the basin. We concluded to gather some gooseberries. Along about eleven o'clock we heard a cheer at the little cabin. When we came in sight, we beheld that the stars and stripes fluttered over our cabin; and how came it there? Had it fallen from heaven or where did it come from? But we heard some male voices there and we went over to the cabin, and there they were, Uncle Dr. McKesson, that splendid specimen of manhood Elder Young, Peter Shamp, and Jacob Dawson, Luke Lavender, and Edward Warnes. They had come and they had brought the blessed flag and we had a 4th of July celebration in `62 there at the Salt Basin, and a jolly good time. They were looking for a place to found a colony and they looked all around, but they located right here on this quarter-section, and they named it the town of Lancaster, and in a year and a half after that they held a county seat election, and it was held at my cabin, and we voted the county seat of Lancaster county here at the town of Lancaster, and I understand the records of Lancaster show nothing of the kind, but it is a fact just the same. The years have rolled by. When the capital was located I was one of those peculiarly sanguine creatures, and I predicted in my wild imagination that it would not be twenty-five years until we had a population of 5,000 in the city of Lincoln. Just think how wild we all were. I was perhaps the oldest of the lot and yet how far short of the reality. It seems like awakening from a Rip Van Winkle sleep every time I come into this city and behold its grandeur and development. [Applause.]
   DR. RENNER:¹ My best hold is the pen. It is rather unfair to expect a pump to "give water both at the spout and pump

handle, but since you were kind enough to call on me I will simply relate that perhaps I have killed as many rabbits as anybody in this assembly, because I was one of the surveyors when the surveyor general's office was located in Leavenworth to run the base line along the 40^o parallel from the Missouri river, and going on that line straight west to the summit of the Rocky mountains, then on to the western boundary of Utah. Of course no Colorado was thought of until after we returned from our two-years trip. We took nothing but a blind trail. Basing it on the imaginary line between Kansas and Nebraska we struck the Republican, crossing the base line seven times, I think, in Nuckolls county. I was often ahead to make a diagram of the country in order that we might tell where to locate our camp for the next night, to find water and perhaps wood, and also rock because we had to set mile stones and half-mile stones wherever possible with rock; otherwise we had to erect "niggerheads." On the Republican river we saw the first prairie-dog villages, one after another. The fellow that was with me on horseback was an habitual smoker, and he had his tobacco, which was the kinnikinic made from the sumac leaves found on the road. When we first struck that prairie-dog village, we saw snakes and any number of them. I says, "Let us go to work and get the rattles off the snakes, then we can show the fellows at the camp." We took the steel ramrod of a gun that we had; we had some revolvers, but as a usual thing we carried these old army muskets. We killed a snake, and one fellow cut off the rattles and put the rattles into a salt bag, and lo and behold, you would not believe it today. It is a fact we filled that salt bag before we finished, and we went back to camp to show them. They asked us

what kind of mineral we had there. It was nothing but the rattles of rattlesnakes. You tell that today to any man living in Nebraska, only ten years, and he would say that is a snake story, but it is an actual fact, and J. Sterling Morton has seen them.

   In 1875-76 I was in Washington, D. C. In January I received a letter from General Crook, who was then in command of the Department of the Platte, to report to him at Cheyenne, Wyoming, as soon as possible to organize his transportation for a summer campaign against the Sioux and other Indians who were then on the war-path, killing settlers and committing all kinds of depredations. I landed in Cheyenne in due time and went to work at once. My particutar business was to organize pack-trains. Right here is a good place to describe a pack-train. It consists of a lot of medium sized mules on which to carry supplies for the army when we cut loose from the wagon trains. We could then keep up with the command, let the soldiers go when and where they

would or travel as fast as they wished. The pack-train was right at their heels, with their provisions, blankets, ammunition, tents, or feed for the horses. A pack-train generally consists of about sixty pack and ten riding mules, led by one bell horse. An army horse will do, just so he is gentle and is a good kicker. Mules are very playful, and the horse that kicks, bites, and fights them most is the horse that suits them best. Keep the bell horse in hand, and Indians will get very few mules in case of a stampede.
   We had eight such trains as above described when we left Cheyenne for the Bighorn country in Wyoming, besides about one hundred wagons divided into four trains, each train under the supervision of a wagon-master and one assistant.
   About the first of March, 1876, we left Cheyenne on our Indian hunt. The weather was very cold nearly all the time we were gone on that trip. We went via Ft. Laramie and Ft. Fetterman. The latter fort was close to where the village of Douglas, Wyoming, now stands. From there we went over to the Dry Fork of Powder river, where we had our first alarm from Indians. We had some beef cattle with the command and every few days had one killed. There were about a dozen left, and as Indians are very fond of beef they will run some chances to get the cattle. One night they shot the herder, ran off all our beef cattle, and we never saw any of them since. Our scouts from here were sent out in advance to locate the Indian village. They were to meet the command at the crossing of the Crazy Woman's fork of the Powder river. The scouts returned and reported that they had seen signs of Indians, and after a needed short rest were again sent ahead to locate, if possible, their village. After a few days the scouts returned with what they called good news, They had located a village of about sixty tepees. For two days we had orders not to shoot under any circumstances, nor to make any undue noise, as we had to make a sneak to surprise the Indians. The night before we jumped the Indians was one of the coldest nights I had ever experienced. We left

camp about two o'clock in the morning of March 17, and opened the campaign on St. Patrick's day. Several companies rode through the village, shooting right and left and stampeded the Indians, who soon rallied, returned, and bravely defended their families. A great many people have an idea that Indians are not brave, that they will only sneak on the enemy; but let such be undeceived. Indians will average with white men in bravery. I noticed on this trip that when the troops were surprised in camp, as occurred several times during the summer, they would try to dodge every bullet that came. After the fight in the early morning several soldiers were found killed. How the Indians suffered in killed and wounded we never knew, as the troops never went back to the battlefield, but left their dead in the hands of the Indians.
   General Crook decided to return to Cheyenne to reorganize for a summer campaign against the same Indians. We were in rendezvous camp near Cheyenne several weeks and made a start for the Bighorn country well equipped for a summer campaign. We took the same route we had taken before, and arrived by easy marches at old Ft. Reno, Wyoming. The scouts had been sent out a few days previously and soon brought in news that Indians were plenty but they could not locate their camp. We broke camp and moved farther west and located camp on Tongue river. We had not been in camp long when the Indians surprised us by firing into camp. The next day we packed the wagons, mounted the infantry on pack mules, and with four days' rations we left camp for Rosebud, as the scouts had located the Indian camp on that stream. The second day from camp we found the carcasses of several buffalo which had been very recently killed by the Indians. Although it was not more than nine o'clock A.M., General Crook decided to go into camp until the Indian village was definitely located. But the Indians were on the lookout for us, and had come about six miles to attack us, which they did before we got into camp. They were in front, rear, flanks, and on every hilltop, far and near. I had been in several Indian battles, but never saw so many Indians at

one time before, at least not when they were on the war-path. We had about six hundred men, having left about three hundred to guard the wagon train. We also had eighty Shoshones, eighty Crows, and fifty Pawnees as allies. They made good scouts and did good work. They all acted very brave, each tribe vieing with the others to outdo in acts of bravery.
   I had a very close call myself at this Rosebud fight. We were half a mile from the creek and needed water badly, especially in the hospital. I started with several canteens, went on foot, and kept well out of sight, going down a ravine. There was a Shoshone Indian who had left his saddle at the creek when the fight started and was going after it. We kept together for several hundred yards. He then left me and went alone for his saddle, as I could strike the creek in a nearer way. The first thing we knew the Sioux had us cut off from the command. There were eight or ten of them who opened fire on us. I got behind a bank and stood them off until some of the troops came toward me and drove the Indians away, but they got my Indian friend. When I saw that the Sioux had him going ahead of them, I knew he would not last long. He turned around and fired at the Sioux, and when they found his gun empty a couple of Sioux ran up so close on him that he had no time to load his gun. The Shoshone jumped off his pony and sprang over a bank of the creek. A Sioux who was at his heels lit upon him and stabbed him in the back with a butcher knife, leaving the knife in the Shoshone's back. After the day's battle I went directly to find my Indian and found him lying on his face, dead, with the knife through his heart. I pulled it out and returned it to its scabbard which was lying in the ground where the Sioux Indian had left it in his hurry to save his own scalp. He did not even scalp the Shoshone, which proves what a great hurry he was in.
   The Rosebud battle lasted from about nine o'clock in the morning until near sundown, when the Indians withdrew and were soon out of sight. The battle was fought on the 17th day of June, 1876. The Indians had gained their point, which

was to hold us there until they could get their camp moved about forty miles from the Rosebud, and go into camp again on the Little Bighorn, where eight days after General Custer met them and was utterly defeated by them. We had ten men killed and several badly wounded in this fight. The Indians suffered a good deal as we afterwards learned. General Crook returned with his command to the wagon train, and went into camp on Goose creek, to await orders from General Sheridan. We were in camp a long time without hearing from the outside world. The Indians were very brave, thinking they had got the best of it at the Rosebud, and I guess they had as much to crow over as anybody. They would often fire into our camp. At last, about the 4th of July, a courier came from Ft. Fetterman with the news of the Custer massacre, which had been known all over Europe eight or nine days before we heard of it, although we were within sixty miles of where it occurred. General Crook had tried to get in communication with General Terry who was in command of the Department of Dakota, but the scouts always returned with the cry of "too many Indians" between the commands. We were in camp until troops arrived from all points that could spare a corporal's guard, when we broke camp and relieved the monotony by marching through the Indian country with two thousand men and ten days' rations. We went where we wished with a command so large, though the Indians still had the best of it numerically and their knowledge of the country gave them a chance to run or fight. We soon made a junction with General Terry on the Yellowstone river, but the Indians had scattered and we were not molested much by them.
   We left General Terry and started for the Black Hills, thinking to come across some Indians. They had divided up into small bands which would give them a better chance to depredate against the settlers in the vicinity of Deadwood. General Crook scoured the country all he could, but, as the rainy season had set in it was very difficult to do much scouting. The next twelve days was one of the hardest marches

United States troops ever made. We came down to horse meat for rations, and that so poor, there was not fat enough on a dozen horses to season the gruel for a sick grasshopper. The horses were not killed until they gave out and could go no farther. With the last meal of beans we had in the pack-train I concluded to have quite a blow-out and invite the General to breakfast. Next morning our cook got all the beans he could get together for one grand mess. He cooked them in the evening, and some soldiers came around camp and offered him $20 for the beans. The cook told me of the offer. I told him not to sell for any money, as I had invited General Crook and staff to breakfast. Well, the next morning the beans were all gone -- stolen. The cook swore he did not sell them, neither did he eat them, but I will always think that cook got what he could eat and sold the balance.
   It rained every day. The horses were giving out, soldiers walking through mud. In the evening when we went into camp there was not a thing to eat but meat from poor horses, ten or fifteen of which were killed each evening and eaten with no seasoning whatever.
   Seventy-five miles from Deadwood we surprised a large band of Indians, about forty tepees, American Horse's band. We kept out of sight until daybreak, when we made the attack. Several were killed on both sides and a great many soldiers wounded. American Horse soon had runners out to other Indian camps. Crazy Horse was soon on hand with all his force and made it very interesting for its for six hours. After this battle, called "Slim Buttes," we fared a little better for something to eat. We had buffalo meat, and besides the Indian ponies were fat and we had plenty of them. I really thought that horse meat was good and wondered why we did not eat more horse at home. We could not follow the Indians on account of lack of rations, and the only thing that I could hope for was that the man who stole the beans was killed. We arrived at Deadwood and were met by the citizens of that place with open arms and a generous hospitality that only those big-hearted miners know how to give. From there

the command came to Ft. Robinson, Nebraska, where a great many Indians had come in to give themselves up. We found them to be generally, women and children and old and decrepit men with no guns. This was just what the fighting Indians wanted -- to get rid of those non-combatants who were only an encumbrance to them. Let the Government feed the squaws while the bucks fought the troops.
   General Crook was not satisfied with the surrender, and decided to make a winter campaign against Mr. Crazy Horse. We started again from Ft. Robinson and Ft. Laramie in November, 1876, with a large command which required an extra amount of transportation to carry supplies. We arrived at Crazy Woman's creek and went into camp, having seen no Indians, but the scouts had been busy and had located a large village in the Bighorn mountains on the headwaters of the creek we were then camped on. Here again is where the pack-trains came into play. We cut loose from the wagon train and proceeded up the creek where it would be impossible for wagons to go. It began to get cold. After a march of twenty miles we laid in camp all day expecting to make a night march. We dared not build a fire, as the Indians would see our smoke. Cold? Well I should say "Yes." Our spread for dinner was frozen beans, frozen bread, with snow balls and pepper on the side; supper the same, less the beans. We began to think that the government was treating us rather cool. Horse meat would have been a Delmonico dinner. The scouts came into camp in the evening and reported the Indian camp, supposed to be that of Crazy Horse, Standing Elk, and Young American Horse. We made the attack at daybreak and, completely surprised the Indians, who soon rallied and came very near turning the tables on us, when eighty packers left their mules in the rear of the command and joined in the light and soon had the Indians on the retreat. We looted the village and burned everything we could not take away. This was the most telling battle against the Sioux that was fought during that 1876 campaign. It had more to do to make them surrender than all the other fights. We found that Crazy

Horse was not in that fight, but was camped on Powder river. Had he been there with all his determined braves the battle might have had a different termination. He was so disgusted with that camp for retreating and giving up everything that he would hardly let the starving, freezing Indians come into his camp. His action in this case had its effect on him at his final surrender. General Crook made up his mind to try to strike Crazy Horse if possible before he left the country, but the cavalry horses and wagon mules were getting poor, the snow so deep, and the weather so terribly cold that it was beginning to tell on the men, and he concluded to give up the chase. We made a. detour of a few days' march on the Powder river and headwater of the Bellefourche and Cheyenne river which brought us to Pumpkin Butte, where we camped on Christmas Eve, just twenty-six years ago this day, and a colder day and night I never slept out of doors. Several mules froze stiff and fell over during the night. So on the 25th of December we left Pumpkin Buttes and Crazy Horse behind and started for Cheyenne, which caused a general rejoicing among men and mules. The backbone of the Indian war was broken, but the main vertebra was still defiant, viz., Crazy Horse.
   The next summer General Crook started again. He sent troops in all directions to bring in all Indians that had not previously surrendered. They had been coming in during the winter to Chief Red Cloud's camp which was then situated near Ft. Robinson, Nebraska. General Crook went personally to Ft. Robinson to superintend the surrender as they arrived. They were coming and going all the time, and he intended to put a stop to that. So he issued an order that no Indian should leave the agency without his permission. That made the Indians "heap mad," and they concocted a scheme to kill him. They were to call a council to talk with him about the surrender, when some one was to shoot him and have a general fight. An Indian, whom General Crook had befriended at some time, told Crook all about the plan. When the time came for the talk the General had the whole place

surrounded with troops. When the Indians saw such an array of soldiers they thought better of the plan, and the assassination did not take place. The Indians appeared to be undecided what to do, whether to go out again on the warpath or to surrender.
   Crazy Horse was still out and had runners going back and forth all the time. They kept him posted about affairs at the agency. General Crook concluded to disarm the Indians and set a time for them to appear and give up their arms. When the time arrived three-fourths of the Indians started out again on the warpath. They went about twenty-five miles and entrenched themselves on Chadron creek, just four miles from where I am now writing. The General had "boots and saddles" sounded, and a large body of troops took along with them a couple of mountain howitzers and a Gatling gun. When they arrived within gunshot, no shot having been fired as yet, the commanding officer called to the Indians under a flag of truce and told them he would just give them five minutes to surrender. When the five minutes were up he let go his cannon and the flag went up instanter. They were taken back to the agency, where they were all disarmed. Crazy Horse was on his way to the agency, the General having sent friendly Indians out to meet him. His marches were very slow as his ponies were very poor, the squaws and children worn out, cold, and hungry. When within twenty miles of the agency he stubbornly refused to go further, but the General sent him word by other Indians that he would bring him in if he had to call all the troops in the United States. He sent some of his aids-de-camp with plenty of provisions and wagons to haul the women and children. After a long talk and being assured he would not be hurt he reluctantly agreed to come in. There was a general rejoicing among the Indians when he agreed to come in, and he was met by nearly all the Indians at the agency. It was an imposing sight to see all those Indians, several thousand in all, headed by Crazy Horse himself, who was riding beside Lieutenant Clark of Crook's staff. He was escorted directly to General Crook,

© 2000, 2001 Pam Rietsch, T&C Miller