My brothers and I went on one special buffalo hunt with three different tribes of Indians--Otoes, Omahas, and Pawnees--about one thousand in all, on Rose creek, about where the town of Hubbell is situated. We were gone about four days. The Indians would do all the killing. When they got what they wanted, then we boys would get our meat. There was plenty for all. The prairies were covered with buffalo; they were never out of sight. On the 4th of July, 1859, six of us with two wagons, four yoke of oxen to a wagon, went over on the Republican where there were always thousands of buffalo. We were out two weeks and killed what meat we wanted. We always had a guard out at night when we camped, keeping the wolves from our fresh meat. We came home to the ranch heavily loaded. We sold some and dried some for our own use. I homesteaded, June 13, 1866, on the Little Blue, five miles northwest of Fairbury, and helped the settlers looking for homesteads locate their land. My father, Joel Helvey, entered forty acres where we had established our ranch on Little Sandy in 1861, the first year any land was entered in this county. I was the first sheriff of this county; served four years, 1867-1870. No sheriff had qualified or served before 1867. County business was done at Big Sandy and Meridian, and at the houses of the county officers. We carried the county records around from place to place in gunny sacks. I am glad I participated in the earliest happenings of this county, and am proud to be one of its citizens. [Illustration: MRS. ELIZABETH C. LANGWORTHY Seventh State Regent, Nebraska Society, Daughters of the American Revolution. 1905-1906] LOOKING BACKWARD BY GEORGE E. JENKINS Looking backward forty years and more, I feel as Longfellow so beautifully expresses it, "You may build more splendid habitations, Fill your rooms with sculpture and with paintings, But you cannot buy with gold the old associations," for in that time I have seen Fairbury grow from a little hamlet to a city of the first class, surrounded by a country that we used to call "the Indian country," considered unfit for agricultural purposes, but today it blossoms as the rose and no finer land lies anywhere.