To and Through Nebraska

by Frances I. Sims Fulton

We wonder, will those of the colony who are scattered over the plains of Nebraska, tell, in talking over the "meeting times" when anticipation showed them their homes in the west, and hopes ran high for a settlement and town all their own, tell how they felt like eager pilgrims getting ready to launch their "Mayflower" to be tossed and landed on a wild waste of prairie, they knew not where?

We need scarce attempt a description of the "getting ready," as only those who have left dear old homes, surrounded by every strong hold kindred, church, school, and our social nature can tie, can realize what it is to tear away from these endearments and follow stern duty, and live the life they knew the first years in their new home would bring them; and, too, people who had known the comforts and luxuries of the easy life, that only those who have lived in the oil country can know, living and enjoying the best their money could bring them, some of whom have followed the oil since its first advent in Venango county, chasing it in a sort of butterfly fashion, flitting from Venango to Crawford, Butler, Clarion, and McKean counties (all of Penna.); making and losing fortune after fortune, until, heart-sick and poorer than when they began, they resolve to spend their labor upon something more substantial, and where they will not be crowded out by Standard or monopoly.

The good-bye parties were given, presents exchanged, packing done, homes broken up, luncheon prepared for a three days' journey, and many sleepless heads were pillowed late Monday night to wake early Tuesday morning to "hurry and get ready." 'Twas a cold, cheerless morning; but it mattered not; no one stopped to remark the weather; it was only the going that was thought or talked of by the departing ones and those left behind.

And thus we gathered with many curious ones who came only to see the exodus, until the depot and all about was crowded. Some laughing and joking, trying to keep up brave hearts, while here and there were companies of dear friends almost lost in the sorrow of the "good-bye" hour. The departing ones, going perhaps to never more return, leaving those behind whom they could scarce hope to again see. The aged father and mother, sisters and brothers, while wives and children were left behind for a season. And oh! the multitude of dear friends formed by long and pleasant associations to say "good bye" to forever, and long letters to promise telling all about the new life in the new home.

One merry party of young folks were the center of attraction for the hilarity they displayed on this solemn occasion, many asking, "Are they as merry as they appear?" while they laughed and chattered away, saying all the funny things they could summon to their tongues' end, and all just to keep back the sobs and tears.

Again and again were the "good byes" said, the "God bless you" repeated many times, and, as the hour-hand pointed to ten, we knew we soon must go. True to time the train rolled up to the depot, to take on its load of human freight to be landed 1,300 miles from home. Another clasping of hands in the last hurried farewell, the good wishes repeated, and we were hustled into the train, that soon started with an ominous whistle westward; sending back a wave of tear-stained handkerchiefs, while we received the same, mingled with cheers from encouraging ones left behind. The very clouds seemed to weep a sad farewell in flakes of pure snow, emblematic of the pure love of true friends, which indeed is heaven-born. Then faster came the snow-flakes, as faster fell the tears until a perfect shower had fallen; beautifying the earth with purity, even as souls are purified by love. We were glad to see the snow as it seemed more befitting the departing hour than bright sunshine. Looking back we saw the leader of the merry party, and whose eyes then sparkled with assumed joyousness, now flooded with tears that coursed down the cheeks yet pale with pent up emotion. Ah! where is the reader of hearts, by the smiles we wear, and the songs we sing? Around and among the hills our train wound and Bradford was quickly lost sight of.

But, eager to make the best of the situation, we dried our tears and busied ourselves storing away luggage and lunch baskets, and arranging everything for comfort sake.

This accomplished, those of us who were strangers began making friends, which was an easy task, for were we not all bound together under one bond whose law was mutual aid? All going to perhaps share the same toil and disadvantages, as well as the same pleasures of the new home?

Then we settled down and had our dinners from our baskets. We heard a number complain of a lump in their throat that would scarcely allow them to swallow a bite, although the baskets were well filled with all the good things a lunch basket can be stored with.

When nearing Jamestown, N.Y., we had a good view of Lake Chautauqua, now placid and calm, but when summer comes will bear on her bosom people from almost everywhere; for it is fast becoming one of the most popular summer resorts. The lake is eighteen miles long and three miles wide. Then down into Pennsylvania, again. As we were nearing Meadville, we saw the best farming land of all seen during the day. No hills to speak of after leaving Jamestown; perhaps they were what some would call hills, but to us who are used to real up-and-down hills, they lose their significance. The snow-storm followed us to Meadville, where we rested twenty minutes, a number of us employing the time in the childish sport of snow-balling. We thought it rather novel to snow-ball so near the month of buds and blossoms, and supposed it would be the last "ball" of the season, unless one of Dakota's big snow-storms would slide over the line, just a little ways, and give us a taste of Dakota's clime. As we were now "all aboard" from the different points, we went calling among the colonists and found we numbered in all sixty-five men, women, and children, and Pearl Payne the only colony babe.