While the Civil War could not take many away from such frontier settlements as we had out here, the Indians became very troublesome as early as 1862. They would make a break down the valley and run us in our cabins, and take all our buffalo meat. We would hardly get our cabins lined up again before they would make another raid, which was very discouraging to the settlers. Some of them would stop and converse with Mrs. Eldridge, as she could talk the Sioux and Cheyenne tongues, and once or twice she saved the settlers from serious trouble. The redskins knew that a serious conflict was going on between the North and South and diverting the attention of the federal government from them, so depradations of all descriptions were permitted on the plains. Some of these were planned by white outlaws, but not all. Important trains were attacked, horses and mules stampeded, and white villages attacked. As a rule the redskins could be mean enough without white men putting them up to anything worse. As Mrs. Eldridge often remarked, "they would sign a treaty with one hand and scalp you with the other." I understand the Smith massacre, Campbell raid, and other specific incidents and episodes of this period, as well as the stampede of 1864, are detailed in your work by others. In 1864, 300 warriors, squaws, and papoose came up and surrounded the Eldridge home, and Bill thought his time had come, but they had come only to offer him his pick of ten ponies out of 500 for his wife. They wished to take her to Pine Ridge or Rose Bud, but Bill flatly refused. She had no fault to find with the Indians, as the happiest girlhood days had been spent in an Indian reservation, but she had married her paleface and wished to spend the remainder of her life among her own people. The Indians told her that if she did not go with them before twelve moons came around they would massacre the whole settlement. The Indians were then committing crimes west of Kearney on the Overland trail near Cottonwood Springs, where there was a small squad of soldiers stationed.

The Indians in the stampede that followed these attacks of 1864 practically ran our whole community out of the Wood River Valley. Upon about fifteen munutes warning many of the families cleared out and never stopped until they got to Fremont or Columbus. As I remember, the eighteen families that were then living in that valley were, Sol Reese, Jim Boyd, Storey, Nutter, Sol Richmond, Highler, Jim Jackson, Richard Anthony, and Patrick Moore, Edmond O'Brien, Dugdale, Jack, Bob and Ted Oliver, Bill Eldridge, Squire Lamb, and Fred Adams. The Martins located in south of the river, more towards Doniphan region, in 1862; John Thomssen Sr. who came in 1857, was down in what is now Alda Township. The German Settlement, as it was called (down south, the present Grand Island), had fine homes started with good supplies of poultry, lands where they had plenty of corn, cabbage, and vegetables of all kinds and good grain. Just getting well fixed thery were reluctant to leave their homes and thought out some means of protection. Koenig and Wiebe had a good

stock of groceries and dry goods on the north channel of the Platte, which the people in Grand Island called Wood River, so they felt the same way. A large fortification was built around the premises of Koenig and Wiebe. This was a long structure with walls made of sod about eight feet high and three feet wide with port holes. Some wanted to call it Fort Grand Island, others wished to call it Fort Wiebe, but Henry Timpke, who lived half a mile from the O. K. Store, said it should be named Fort Sauer Kraut, and it was known by this until the store was removed. When our folks had to leave in July, 1865, Mr. Eldridge, Mr. Lamb, and my father had been putting up hay on the bottoms near our home. They had put up three stacks, one for each of the men, and were going to cut and draw the rest home, and they were going to put up more, when the critical moment arrived on August 1st. We learned the red-skins had cut the telegraph lines east and west of Fort Kearny, the stages stopped, and freighters were stopped. Jim Jackson rode down the trail and told us to load all our effects into our wagons. We left many things behind. My sister had to leave a Chester White pig that was given to her in the spring and we left about half of our chickens to care for themselves. Never had our corn and vegetables looked more promising, and all felt very reluctant to leave our homes, but all felt that we had to do it to save our lives. We bade goodbye to our cabin and traveled on until we reached Fort Sauer Kraut. There the Germans were expecting an attack at any moment, but we kept on, however, until our cattle became too weary to travel, and at 12 o'clock that night, put to camp for the first time. We kept on then until we reached Columbus. The other settlers would not slow up, but as fast as their stock would play out, they would sell it at any sacrifice. Two ladies died on the way back to Iowa, one the daughter of Jesse Shoemaker, who married Charlie Combs. She died just before reaching Omaha. Another lady by the name of Mrs. Haisington, died east of Council Bluffs, from nervous overstrain. On reaching Fremont we met a man who had a hundred tons of hay cut ready to be put in stack, and we hired out for wages, letting our cattle graze on the plains. While there a member of the town board appeared with a telegram from President Johnson telling us to remain there. In less than ten days, he sent soldiers to escort us back and to remain and protect our old settlement. At that time the Rock Isalnd railroad had got as far west as Des Moines, so the soldiers and supply wagons were shipped to Des Moines, and in six or seven days they arrived. It turned out that they had been Confederate soldiers who had been taken prisoners by the Union army and rather than be thrown in prison, not knowing how long the war might last, they took an oath that they would not take up arms against the United States, but would enlist in the United States service to protect the frontier settlers. This caused some bitter feeling among the settlers, who took their time in following these soldiers back to the settlement, for we couldn't begin to keep up with them.