A church was established under the care of the New England Congregational Mission and Rev. Charles Starbuck was put in charge. A small farmhouse where travelers could be accommodated, and a few homes of those who had bought land, comprised the village life. This freedom from restraint was indeed new to one accustomed to the rush of busy life in New York. Daily rides over the prairie on my pony were a delight. It was wonderful how many cultured people drifted into the almost unknown western country. It was not infrequent to see in humble sod houses shelves filled with standard books and writings of the best authors. This was the second wave of population, and though many things had to be sacrificed that in the old life were considered necessary to comfort, pioneer life had its happy features. One especially was the kindly expression of helpfulness in time of sickness or sorrow. The discomforts and self denials and the longing for dear ones far away grow dim and faded! only memories of pleasant hours remain. Then came the third wave of men and women settling all around, bringing fashion and refining influences, and entertainment of various kinds. Churches, elevators, banks, and business houses were built and Nance county began to show the march of civilization and progress. Where first we knew the flower-gemmed prairie, modern homes spring up and good roads follow the trails of the Indian and the hunter. THE PAWNEE CHIEF'S FAREWELL BY CHAUNCEY LIVINGSTON WILTSE As I strolled alone, when the day had flown, Through the once Pawnee reserve, Where the memories keep of the brave asleep By the winding Cedar's curve-- Methought the leaves of the old oak trees 'Neath the sheltering hill-range spoke, And they said: "It's here that hearts knew no fear, Where arose the Pawnee smoke! "In the eventide, when all cares subside, Is the hour the tribe liked best; When the gold of day crossed the hills away, And, like those who tried, found rest. O'er this Lovers' Leap, where now shadows creep, Strode the chief, in thought, alone-- And he said: 'Trees true, and all stars in view, And you very winds my own! "'I soon shall pass, like the blades of grass, Where the wandering shadows go; Only leaves will tell what my tribe did well-- But you Hearts of Oak--you know! To those Hunting Grounds that are never found Shall my tribe, in time, depart; Then it will be you to tell who were true, With the dawn-song in their heart! "'You will sing a song, with the winds along, How the Pawnee loved these hills! Here he loved to stray, all the wind-glad day-- In his heart the wind sings still! You will whisper, too, how he braved the Sioux, How life's days he did his part; Though not understood, how he wished but good, With but love within his heart!