Previous to the year 1856, just 20 years ago, all this fair prairie world had been in the undisputed possession of wild beasts and savage tribes. Some white man's foot may indeed have marked the margin of the streams in the capacity of hunter and trapper, and certain it is that honorable footprints had been made by government surveyor and topographical engineer far beyond. But not until the sweet spring morning of 1856 did the pioneers of our westward civilization scent from afar the odors of these northern plains, rising at the touch of the morning sun of that new day of progress, whose first hour is not yet past, and whose red rays are just beginning to chase the shadows of the desert through the gates of a golden paradise beyond, whose treasures have slept there throughout the night of ages, beside the mountain streams, beneath the dark pines, within their beds of sand and rock.

Manifestly, I come now to a point in my story where names, dates and special events must be recited. I beg therefore to request, in advance, that if, despite my intention to tell a truthful story, there shall be any mis-statements, they may be pardoned. Furthermore, if the lines of grave history should be here and there shaded with a tinge of innocent humor at a