For the Record ... THE PAST IS PROLOGUE

The past decade has been spent largely in planning and preparation — in laying the groundwork for Nebraska's wildlife management, park, outdoor recreation, and tourist-trade programs. The 70's will be the decade when most of this development is completed. A variety of projects was constructed in the 60's, but many more are scheduled for the future.

In wildlife management, a better and wider understanding of the factors that lead to the rise and fall of wildlife populations was a primary goal during the 60's. Unless we all learn to understand that inadequate environment is the principal limiting factor for most forms of desirable wildlife today, there is no chance to meet and solve our small-game problems. In fact, unless Man learns and thoroughly understands that all life on this earth is completely dependent on its environment, then Man himself has no more chance of escaping an eventual "crash decline" of his own species than does the snowshoe hare or the lemming!

The future will see big game increase in Nebraska, since our deer and antelope are still living at levels below the carrying capacity of their environment. On the other hand, the outlook for small game is not bright. Ground-dwelling species like pheasant, quail, and cottontail are presently as numerous as their environment permits, and I see little hope that their habitats will improve substantially in the future. True, we can help small-game species if we stop destroying permanent cover unnecessarily, but there is little hope that we can add significant acreage, because the landowner must use every acre he can in providing income from the farm. No reasonable person can object to that. My objection is to the destruction of permanent cover on acres not used for crops.

The outlook for fish and fishing is the most encouraging prospect of all. New and more desirable species are being added. In fact, most of Nebraska's fishing today depends on species that were not originally native to this state. But the big gain will come in new fish-producing waters. Every time a new reservoir is built it adds another unit to our array of "fish factories". Approximately 60 major reservoirs are scheduled for construction in the next 10 years.

Much essential land has been acquired for parks and recreation. While some new areas have been developed, most construction still lies ahead. Substantial and extensive work is scheduled in this field, and the 70's will see the completion of many of these projects. Nebraska made a belated start in developing tourist trade. Hence, it still has a long way to go before the state can realize its potential in this field. Most developments which will increase tourist trade are yet to come.

The social needs of Nebraskans for outdoor recreation have been studied carefully. Our "Comprehensive Outdoor Recreation Plan" is based on this research, and projects have been designed to meet major needs. It is not feasible nor possible to meet all demands, but it is the plan to meet justifiable needs.

In our planning, Nebraska's need for parks and outdoor recreation outlets have been combined with the need to develop attractions for tourist trade, thus "killing two birds with one stone".

The economic objective is to develop an outdoor recreation and tourist-trade business in Nebraska that will gross at least $500 million annually. Studies indicate that this is well within reach, provided we invest the effort and funds necessary. Since substantial public expenditures must be made to meet our social needs, wisdom dictates that this investment in the better life be made profitable as well. Most of this half billion dollar annual revenue will come from outside the state.

The past is prologue. It is gone forever. It is valuable only because of what we have learned and what we have done to prepare for the future. Nebraska's potential in outdoor recreation and tourist trade is very good. Nebraskans have made a start in the long-term task of developing that potential. Realization is in your hands, dear reader. The future is yours, and the future will be whatever you make it.

Good luck and Godspeed.

Mel Steen Director, Nebraska Game and Parks Commission APRIL 1970

Speak Up

NEBRASKAland invites all readers to submit their comments, suggestions, and gripes to SPEAK UP. Each month the magazine will publish as many letters as space permits. Pictures are welcome. NEBRASKAland reserves the right to edit and condense letters.— Editor.

NEBRASKA AND ALASKA-"I was born in Garden County, Nebraska in a sod house. I lived there until I was married. My husband and I have lived in many places, but to me Nebraska will always be home. We are now living in Alaska on the Kenai Peninsula and the weather and snow is much like it was in western Nebraska when I was a child. Alaska is a great place and we have seen many interesting things. But Nebraska is where my heart is and when we retire we plan to make our home in Nebraska." -Paul DaMeta, Kenai, Alaska.

BETTER INSIGHT-"Through the thoughtfulness of my pen friend, I have* been receiving NEBRASKAland Magazine for a year. I should like to thank you for the very pleasant reading during the past 12 months. My family and I now have a better insight into one section of life in the United States."-Lorraine McClanghry, Wellington, New Zealand.

ARMCHAIR ADVENTURER - "I enjoyed the article on Danny Liska in the February NEBRASKAland. Upon completing it, I immediately reread the articles I have collected in the past about his adventures.

"I guess my interest stems from the fact that my hometown is in Knox County near Niobrara, but I am also one of those armchair adventurers. I have attended one of Danny's lectures and also recall seeing him on network television. Your article only whetted my appetite and I hope you will publish more stories on him. Please let your readers NEBRASKAland know when the book he is writing goes on sale.

"I have also saved a series of articles on Dr. and Mrs. James Maly of Fullerton. They worked in the Amazon jungle and they should get recognition through NEBRASKAland Magazine, too."-Mrs. Harry Schmidt, Minden.

GOOD HUNT-'Keith Treece and myself are from Albuquerque, New Mexico, and again we had a fine hunt in NEBRASKAland. We averaged a little over four pheasants a day, got several quail, and a rabbit during our hunt in the first week of December. We also found the pheasant population about the same as the previous years in southwestern and southcentral Nebraska.

"Both of us want to thank the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission for the hunter's packet that we receive each year. It helps us plan our hunting trip." — Mike O'Bryant, Albuquerque, New Mexico.

INTRODUCE SPORTS?-"At our house we read your magazine from cover to cover, and then refer to it again.

"We note with concern that you contemplate introducing sports. Don't spoil the magazine! Let the Nebraska University athletic department get their foot in the door and that's the end of NEBRASKAland as it is. It'll be Go, Go Big Red, football ballyhoo, and articles by and about Coach Devaney.

"The pioneer articles and pictures are great, let's have more." —E. Earl Roy, Lincoln.

MORE TO OFFER-"I appreciate NEBRASKAland, especially since Nebraska will always be home to me. I share it with many others like me. NEBRASKAland has far more to offer than just this. It is a wonderful way to show the charms and potential of the whole state. The series of pictures in Symphony of the Seasons was utterly delightful."-Deloris M. Van Houten, Grand Junction, Colorado.

FISH MOUNTING-"Could you inform me as to where the kits are available for mounting fish as stated in the article in the February 1970 NEBRASKAland?" — Dr. C. G. Gross, Cambridge.

Fish mounting kits may be obtained by writing Norman K. Meyer, 4783 North Bend Road, Cincinnati, Ohio 45211.— Editor.

NEBRASKA EXPERIENCES-"My brother has given me a subscription to NEBRASKAland and I enjoy reading the articles very much, but they make me homesick. In one Speak Up there was mention of a soddie, and that brings back memories. I have lived in four different Custer County soddies near Callaway. In the summer of 1914 I helped my father build a soddie and I think that was probably the last soddie built in the county.

"I also experienced a Nebraska tornado in 1916. It struck without warning in the afternoon. It lifted the roof of the soddie and dropped it back in the same spot. It raised so much dust we couldn't see for awhile.

"My little sister had been outdoors and mother ran out to protect her. Mother was cut by flying debris, but that was the only injury.

"Once when I was fishing on the South Loup near Oconto I experienced a cloudburst to beat all others. It washed my Ford several hundred yards down the river. All we found of it was the engine and chassis." —Carl Adams, Seattle, Washington.

TANTALIZING MEMORIES-"The Truth About Family Camping by Shirley Lueth proved to be a delightful story of their camping experience at Johnson Lake. In my case it brought back happy memories of fabulous crappie fishing which that man-made lake offered for a number of years after its construction.

The enclosed photo of our two sons was taken at Johnson Lake about 25 years ago. That stringer of crappies included the combined take of our two

sons, my wife, an uncle, and myself. In those early years of the lake it was not a question of whether, but of how quickly one could snare the legal limit of 15.

"My aging parents lived in Beaver City at the time. Our annual spring visit never failed to include a fishing jaunt to Johnson Lake. The taste of those fresh-fried crappies is a tantalizing remembrance."-Harley O. Smith, Norfolk.

TAKE YOUR SEAT-"My husband's Aunt Ella Lull McBeth of Provo, Utah, tells some fabulous stories about earlier days in Nebraska when she was a girl. One of these stories involves my Uncle Fred Jurgensen of Cordova, Nebraska, who in the horse-and-buggy days, invited Ella to a basket supper at a country school near Cordova. Aunt Ella had been on her feet all day working in Otto Hassellback's store, and besides, she hadn't prepared a basket supper. But Otto encouraged her to pack a make-shift supper and Uncle Fred promised her a chair to sit on when they got to the school. So while Aunt Ella filled the supper basket, Uncle Fred rented a team at the livery stable, and in short order they were off to the social. They arrived late, and the school was crowded.

"Alright, Fred, where's that chair you promised me?' chided Aunt Ella.

"Uncle Fred thought a minute, looked out the window by which they were standing, then in a loud voice called out, 'Runaway team!'

"Every man in the building flew out the door except Uncle Fred, who pointed to the empty chairs and said to Aunt Ella, There you are; take your choice!'" — Mrs. Lloyd McBeth, Santa Clara, California.

THE CHINOOK by Mrs. Jean Brenneman Billings, Montana In the middle of winter, two pranksters one day decided a joke on Mother Nature to play; Old Sol and Miss South Wind —a daredevil pair—when they get together, let old Winter beware! While Sol, the old rascal, stayed hidden on high, the laughing Miss South Wind 'neath slate-colored sky Blew a blast of warm air on the whole countryside, and soon Mother Earth awakened and sighed; She pushed her brown shoulders right up through the snow —is it Springtime already, well, what do you know! So happy was she that she started to weep —'twas nice to awaken from such a cold sleep! As South Wind blew harder on Earth's frozen face the tears ran the faster — at a feverish pace; Racing and dancing around rock and tree, tumbling down hillsides, gurgling with glee, Millions of rivulets hastened below to join the huge puddles of fresh-melted snow. Biting and digging with all of their might, this pair made the snowdrifts fade out of sight. Some birds, too, were fooled—for a robin I see —and the buds are near bursting on the crab apple tree. But 'tis only a prank, as most of us know, for tomorrow 'twill likely be 30 below. NEBRASKAland APRIL 1970 5

NOTES ON NEBRASKA FAUNA . . . MONARCH BUTTERFLY

Subsisting entirely on milkweed leaves, this colorful insect tastes bitter but looks beautiful. Its weight increases 2,700 times in 15 days

by Norman Dey District Supervisor, Game

ONE OF THE FEW insects that migrates, the monarch butterfly is the best known member of the order Lepidoptera. Although not as abundant in Nebraska as in some other portions of the United States, the Donaus plexippus is common here from May through October.

A member of the family Danaidae, the monarch is dull brownish-yellow and its main wing veins are outlined in black. It boasts a wingspread of 3 1/2 to 4 inches, and the outer margins of the wings are black with numerous white spots. Its colors fade in sunlight and will vary considerably with age.

Life begins in an egg, laid on the underside of a milkweed leaf. About the size of a pinhead, the egg appears gemlike when examined with a magnifying glass. Laid one to a leaf, the eggs will produce larvae measuring about 1.9 millimeters long and weighing about .54 milligrams.

After hatching, the larva will eat all or most of the egg case, after which it will subsist exclusively on the leaves of milkweed plants.

The period from hatching to moulting of the larval skin, as well as the time between moultings, is called instar. The monarch will go through five instars, during which it consumes large quantities of milkweed leaves and increases its weight to 1.5 grams. Occurring in only 15 days, the increase is 2,700 times its original .54 milligram weight.

Easily recognizable, the larva or caterpillar of the monarch butterfly APRIL 1970 is smooth and hairless with bands of black, yellow, and grey.

Mortality is greatest during the larval stage. For unknown reasons, the caterpillar will leave the milkweed plant where it hatched to search for a new one. This is done at random and, if another plant is not close by, the caterpillar will die from lack of food.

No birds will eat monarch larvae, apparently because of the bitter taste acquired from feeding on the milkweed plants.

If disturbed by prodding, the caterpillar will curl up and drop to the ground, where it will play "possum" for some time. And, only when on the ground is the larva in danger from predators, then it is readily eaten by mammals and other insects.

When the instars are completed, the caterpillar enters the pupa stage or the transformation from caterpillar to butterfly. This change usually takes 14 days, but it will occur much more rapidly in warmer weather and will be slowed by cool nights. Just prior to this period, the larva will generally leave the milkweed plant to form a chrysalis on the underside of some object. The chrysalis looks like a case of finespun jade and gold, but it is not a cocoon as produced by some of the moths.

The butterfly usually emerges from the chrysalis during the middle of the day, with small limp wings, which are stretched by a fluid forced into them. It takes from 2 to 17 hours before the monarch can fly. During this time, it must hang upside down from the pupal skin so its wings can form correctly. If it drops to the ground before it can fly, the wings will be deformed. The monarch will be sexually mature seven days after it leaves the chrysalis.

In late summer and early fall, monarchs begin their southward migration, which is almost undetectable because of its leisurely pace. They appear to feed at random, but closer observation reveals the southerly direction of their flight.

Once believed to hibernate, monarchs have since proved to be true migrants. At this time, they gather in roost trees, since they must spend the night above the ground to escape predators. And, in some parts of the country, the same roost trees are used year after year.

Cold weather will halt the fall migration and any monarchs left in the North will die. Butterflies find it extremely difficult to fly when the temperature dips to 50 degrees Fahrenheit. At 40 degrees, they cannot fly at all. However, they can withstand subfreezing weather at night, if it warms up during the day.

Concentrations of monarchs make a spectacular sight on their wintering grounds along the Gulf Coast through southern Texas and Mexico and along the southern California coast. Some cities in southern California have even developed tourist attractions from the monarchs wintering near their towns. Some have passed ordinances protecting the butterflies from human intruders.

Come March and April, the more direct and rapid spring migration begins. Females move along, searching for suitable milkweed plants on which to lay their eggs. They will pick plants from 3 to 18 inches high, choosing young leaves so the first meal of the larva will be on a young, succulent leaf rather than one more rigid and mature.

Each female is capable of laying over 400 eggs, and since it takes about 33 days for a mature butterfly to develop from an egg, several generations can be produced each year. Once she has laid her eggs, the female usually dies.

The monarch ranges throughout the United States, but its distribution is governed by the availability of the milkweed plant. However, there are many species of milkweed, and the monarch is known to use 14 of them.

An unusual member of the wildlife kingdom in Nebraska, the monarch butterfly adds a bit of dash and color to the prairies. THE END

FOR FASTER ACTION

Impairing success and spoiling fishing pleasures, a dirty spinning reel is angler's killjoy companion

IN APPRAISING your tackle for the season ahead, now that winter has melted away, don't neglect the important job of attending to your reels. As every fisherman knows, the object of the sport is battling fish, not gear. A sluggish unresponsive reel not only impairs the chances of success, it spoils the lungdeep satisfaction of fishing itself.

While servicing spinning reels may seem more formidable than the less mysterious spin-casts, they present no problems if an orderly stripdown is followed.

First, cover a table or workbench with paper or an old pillowcase 10

NEBRASKAland to protect against the inevitable drip and splatter. Lay out all needed tools. Besides a screwdriver, long-nose pliers, and small socket wrenches, gather an old toothbrush, gear grease, rags, cleaning solution (cleaning fluid or kerosene), and an egg carton.

As parts are removed, they can be cleaned by dipping them into a jar lid filled with cleaning fluid. For scrubbing gear teeth, a toothbrush proves invaluable.

Begin disassembly of the reel by removing the cover plate from the gearbox. Detach the gears and parts on the cover plate, clean them, and place the parts into the egg carton. As you reassemble, lightly grease the faces and teeth of the gears. Tubes of special gear lubricant are available at most sport shops.

Having reassembled the cover plate assembly, set it aside and follow the same procedure on the gearbox itself. When all the gears, the slide, and the slide guide are removed, clean the inside of the gearbox. Do not reassemble, however, until the bail assembly is serviced.

The bail assembly, located in the rotating head of the reel, is exposed by first removing the spool and spindle from the reel axle, then the baffle plate. Unless unusually dirty, the bail assembly need not be dismantled — a bath in cleaning fluid is sufficient. Grease should not be applied here. Instead, use a toothpick to oil all friction points.

Reassembly can now begin. Start with the gearbox, greasing the slide and gears as they are returned. Next, assemble the rotating head. Finally, screw the cover plate back onto the gearbox.

When the reel is together, check for smooth operation. If binding occurs, remove the cover plate and check the pivot gear, which rests against the slide inside the gearbox. These parts must mesh properly for smooth operation.

The final step is oiling all exterior moving parts. Remove the wing nut from the front of the spool, lubricate the brake spring, and the job is finished. Wrap the reel in plastic to seal out dirt and return it to tackle box.

To insure top reel performance, strip it down in the fall. After cleaning out the summer's accumulation of grime, grease the reel heavily to protect it from rust during its winter hibernation. Do this and your spring task will be easier. Besides that, you will be ready for action sooner, and in the long run your reel will last longer, thus saving you money. THE END

APRIL 1970

THE RUNAWAY MARE

by Raymond Dowse as told to NEBRASKAland

ALL I COULD DO was run along behind the careening rig and hope that no one would be hurt before I could reach it. My son was inside and my sister, with her son. I knew they were in serious danger. I could think no further ahead than catching the horse and stopping the mad rush. But how could I outrun a horse? Maybe when she turned I could cut her off on her return trip.

The episode began late on a warm fall afternoon in 1966. It was the last ride of the day. As I loaded my sister, Diane, her son, Myron, and my boy, Brian, into the top buggy I had no suspicion that it would be a disastrous trip.

I climbed in behind the old cow pony and nipped the reins. Dusty was 19 at the time, and I was trying to prove that you can indeed teach an old horse new tricks. I had been training her as a buggy horse, and she had taken to her new assignment with all the philosophic calm of her years and gentle temperament.

The palomino mare had spent 10 years with our family at our vacation ranch near Comstock. Before then she was a member of a family with seven children, and all seven had learned to ride on her broad back. She was gentle. The children could walk under her without ruffling her calm.

Dusty had been a kind of neighborhood horse. Not only did the family use her as a live-in babysitter, but children on neighboring ranches also made liberal use of her services.

She had plenty of experience with youngsters, as the mother of three colts herself. She even had another after the accident — when she was 21 years old. Among her talents is her ability as a working cow pony. But on that day in November, she was the villain in a one-act, near-tragedy, not a responsible member of a ranching team.

We had started down a gentle incline just beyond the house and into an open meadow. As we started down, the shifting weight of the buggy broke a harness strap. The broken strap allowed the shaft to prod Dusty's rump. As I could see that she was getting annoyed at the indignity, I clambered down to calm her. But just as I reached for her head, she took off running across the field.

She had gone as wild as a spring colt. I couldn't catch her unless by some chance she might double back toward me before she dumped her load. Then it happened. I saw her 12

turning, but it was too sharp a turn. The buggy overturned, spilling my family underneath. With the harness and shafts broken, she was free to scamper. But Diane and the kids weren't even moving.

I sprinted to the shattered buggy where Diane was just getting up, dazed, and reaching for her son, Myron, who lay still. He was unconscious. I scooped him up and rushed to the house while my sister and my son, Brian, followed at my heels.

Myron regained consciousness at the house, but he just wanted to sleep. Still concerned, we decided to take him to the doctor who immediately placed him in the hospital for overnight observation.

Brian, in the meantime, had been complaining of a sore wrist. With Myron resting comfortably, the doctor had time to examine the wrist. It was cracked. Diane had a bruised forehead, but was otherwise unscathed.

When we returned to the ranch, we found that Dusty had wandered in, contrite over her misdeed, and dad had groomed her and corralled her. The buggy came in later, a piece at a time, although the broken shafts were the worst injuries to it.

The buggy top is probably the only thing that saved Diane and the children from more serious injury. Without the top, the buggy may have come to rest on them instead of the structure of the "roof".

Since the accident, the buggy has been repaired, and a team of ponies has been trained to pull it. Dusty is still going strong at 24, although she spends most of her time in the pasture now.

No one bears any serious scars as a result of the run-in with danger, but Myron still refuses to ride in the top buggy. It was a painful lesson, but it is well learned. I'm convinced now that, old wives' tale or not, you can't teach an old horse new tricks. THE END

Do you know of an exciting true outdoor tale that happened in Nebraska? Just jot down the incident and send it to: Editor, NEBRASKAland Magazine, State Capitol, Lincoln, Nebraska 68509.

APRIL IS FOR MASTER ANGLERS

In the spring a fisherman's fancy turns to thoughts of lunkers. For these three avid buffs it meant "double-up" wins on hook and line

by Bob Snow

April is a month when most outdoorsmen are thinking about fishing and just haven't done anything about it. But, there are some hardy souls who have found that this spring month is packed with fishing action. From the looks of a list of April 1969 Master Anglers on page 58 and 59, it seems this is the month when lunkers shake the laziness of winter and go on a feeding spree. For three fishermen, April is a time to remember and here are their stories:

APRIL 1970 15

16 NEBRASKAland

SIX MINUTES TO TOMS

An electrifying gobble shattered the morning stillness. Turkeys and hunters were ready to go, but watches and the law told us to wait

by Fred Nelson

WITH A PAIR of wild gobblers 10 feet in front of me, a loaded 12-gauge shotgun 12 feet behind, and 6 minutes to go until legal shooting time I was in a predicament.

"Oh, brother, don't let Cecil get trigger-happy or I'm a goner for sure," I prayed, pressing deeper into the duff below the low-branched cedars.

The two toms on the crest of the little slope sounded off with a string of suspicious gobbles. They sensed our presence even if they couldn't see us. I didn't dare raise my head, but by rolling my eyes upward I could see the birds silhouetted against the brightening sky. They were facing each other, and as I watched, the two crossed heads, their wattled necks forming a living "X" against the light. I knew Cecil McCullough could see them, too, but could he see me? It was still very dark under the trees and to make matters worse I was dressed in dusky green which blended perfectly with the shad- ows. A faint rustle behind me set my imagination off.

"He's raising his gun. He's goint to shoot," my panic shouted. "Jump up, run, yell, do something-do anything!"

I stifled the impulses and hugged the ground flinching against the anticipated blast. My partner's angle was such that if he shot, the charge would pass over me. At best, the 1 1/2 ounces of No. 6's would be some 2 feet above me. At worst, they would smash into the back of my head and spoil my turkey hunting.

Although Cecil and I had planned our 1969 spring hunt for weeks, all the preliminaries were conducted by phone and letter, and we hadn't met until the Friday afternoon before the opener. A few minutes' conversation convinced me that he was a solid and experienced hunter, but in a situation like ours the best of men can get "shook". Besides there was a good possibility that Cecil couldn't see me. Still, I had to have faith or blow whatever chance we might have to nail the two gobblers.

The whole thing started when I bought a spring-gobbler permit for the Niobrara unit and cast about for a hunting partner who knew the country. Mutual friends told me about Cecil McCullough, a farmer-rancher whose spread is along the banks of Pine Creek in north-central Nebraska.

"Cecil is a mighty good turkey hunter. He gets his gobbler every spring, he's a first-class caller, and a darn fine shot. McCullough is your man," my contacts told me.

A few phone calls and a couple of letters firmed up the details and on an April afternoon before the season opener, I drove north out of Bassett to Cecil's place and introduced myself. The lanky westerner suggested a quick scouting expedition that evening to get a line on some roosting toms. It seemed like a fine idea, so we worked up Pine Creek to its junction with Bone Creek and followed that stream into the canyon country. My companion made a few tentative calls on his homemade box caller and it wasn't long before we got an inquiring gobble back. That first answer triggered several others and Cecil estimated four toms were in the canyon.

"They're roosting in the evergreens and oaks across the creek," he decided. "In the morning we'll come in from the other side and try calling them. We ought to be situated at least 30 minutes before shooting time. That means we ought to get started about 4:15 a.m. It will take us about an hour to walk in."

We were a little tardy getting started and it was inching along toward opening hour as we single-filed our way through a branch canyon that led to the creek. Turkey hunting is a stealthy business, so we loaded our guns early, for even the racking of a shell into a chamber could spook the wary birds. Cecil was using a 12-gauge slide-action while my pet, a 20-gauge side-by-side, was loaded with No. 5's.

We were about 250 yards from our preselected spots and the going was pretty steep, so to favor a tricky back I picked a little easier trail than the one Cecil was following. I was slightly behind him and about 12 feet to his right when an electrifying gobble, gobble, gobble shattered the morning stillness. The sounds were very close and we knew that we had to get out of sight but quick. Cecil sort of flowed into the trunk of a big tree, but I was more in the open and had to dive for a stunted cedar directly between my com- panion and the two toms. The turkeys were alert, but they were more curious than spooked and in no hurry. They gobbled and strutted around and once they came so close, I was sure they could hear the pounding of my heart. Finally the birds worked out of sight, foraging along a little bench that shelved out from the   canyon. When the expected shot didn't come, my apprehensions dissolved into bitterness.

"Of all the miserable luck," I thought to myself, "two toms in spitting distance and I couldn't do a thing. I'll never get another chance like that again."

I stayed put, for the turkeys were still in the immediate area and there was a thin chance we could call them back. I risked a look at my watch, it was now legal shooting time. Suddenly, a shot completely short-circuited what few nerves I had left. They say a man can't jump from a prone position. Nonsense. I came three feet straight up.

Cecil's soft "got him" didn't register at first, for I was fighting a bad case of the "shakes". Finally, the rubber went out of my legs and with nonchalance I strolled to where my companion was admiring his gobbler. The bird was a fine one with a 4-inch beard and weighed 18 pounds, 8 ounces after field dressing. The successful hunter filled me in on the details.

"I had a hunch the birds might circle. Turkeys often do that when they are suspicious but not really spooked. Sometimes the birds will follow a little drainage or some other terrain feature to get in behind you. This one circled around that way," he said, pointing to a shallow erosion ditch.

'You had me sweating that you were going to jump the season. By the way, did you see me sprawled under that cedar?" I asked.

Cecil grinned. 'Yep. I was sweating you out, too, especially when the birds had their heads crossed. I never saw anything like that before in my life. It was a sure two-for-one opportunity if it had been legal to shoot. How would you have handled it?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "They were an awful temptation but honestly I don't think I would

18 have tried for both. Two birds on one permit are one too many to satisfactorily explain to a conservation officer. Besides when you work for the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, law breaking you don't do."

Cecil was sure the surviving torn had fled east, so he suggested we climb back to the tableland, walk about half a mile, and set up at the head of another canyon to possibly intercept the gobbler. He wasn't optimistic, for several hunters were in the same area, and we could hear a discord of calls as they tried to entice some toms. Both of us knew that as time wore on, the gobblers would become more sophisticated and wary of phony "girl friends". We tried but it wasn't to be. Once we got a gobble back but the bird kept drifting away and we gave up on him. We spent the day trying to luck into some birds, but fortune wasn't smiling at us.

That first day was ideal for spring turkey hunting. It was bright and calm with just enough tang in the air to add spice to the outdoors, but the next morning was a different story. It was very windy and Cecil told me that toms usually clam up on gusty days and refuse to answer a call. We kept at it from opening minute to closing hour but all we got was exercise. That evening my host came up with an idea.

"A friend of mine ranches over north of the Niobrara River and from time to time turkeys come in to graze on his alfalfa field, usually in the evening. Let's hunt the canyons in the morning and if we don't do any good, go over there after lunch."

Our morning hunt was fruitless, so we headed for the other area and another first in my outdoor career. There was a little edging of brush in front of some cottonwoods that fringed the field, so I roughed out a makeshift blind and settled in for a long wait. Cecil hid in a little grove catty-cornered from my spot after we arranged to signal each other if we saw any birds.

It was warm and I was tired. Pretty soon, I dozed off. A fox squirrel in a cottonwood behind me sounded off with a chattering scold. His noise shook me out of my languor and I peered out of the blind. Four white-tailed does were right in front of me. One had a mad on against the world. She didn't like squirrel racket at all. The bushytail would reel off a long snicker of insults and she would counter with snorts and stomps. For 15 minutes, the two animals chewed each other out — chatter —stomp —snort —chatter. Finally, the squirrel must have given out with a real stinger, for the doe lowered her head and came forward at a purposeful trot. Twenty feet, fifteen feet, ten feet, and then she was practically eyeball to eyeball with me. I froze and waited.

A whitetail is an admirable creature —at a distance. At 10 feet, a whitetail, red-eyed and raging, is the perfect epitome of wild fury and a lot more frightening than appealing. Her hooves looked mighty sharp and I knew that if she piled into me I would have contusions and abrasions to spare. Still, I was curious and wanted to see what the deer would do. The other three closed in behind their antagonistic companion and there was a distinct possibility that very shortly I was going to have a lapful of deer.

The angered doe was really on the prod now. Every hair on her neck was bristled up, her nostrils were flared to twice their normal size, and her eyes, normally limpid, were practically red (Continued on page 51)

NEBRASKAland 19

WONDER THE WORLD

Nebraska's State Capitol is magnificent example of man's mortar and mosaic handiwork

Photography by Greg Beaumont 20 NEBRASKAland APRIL 1970 21  

BANKS OF orange-tinted clouds lining the western horizon reflect the final burst of beauty of the dying day. Such a scene only the Old Master Painter could create, but what a breath-taking backdrop for one of man's greatest masterpieces... the "Tower of the Plains".

It is a fleeting moment to be treasured and finally stored in the album of memory, for once gone it will never be quite the same again. And so, the sun sets, but its passing tickles the imagination and excites a curiosity about this "architectural wonder of the world".

If the mere sight of such a building can so inspire a viewer, what then lies behind those massive doors?

Symbolism fills this majestic edifice — from the Sower perched atop the 400-foot tower to the intricate designs of the interior corridors and chambers. It is more than just a home for government, for it mingles the ideals and accomplishments of a great state and its people.

Everyone views such a structure in the light of his own experiences and interests. An engineer admires the graceful lines of a well-constructed building. An artist sees the lights and darks and tiny details

23   24 NEBRASKAland that make the whole. The historian pursues its graphic records of times past. A carpenter values the beauty evolved by the skills of his trade. Thus it goes, for each Nebraskan owns a tiny portion of this manificent example of man's handiwork—both figuratively and literally.

The casual observer is often awed by the massive splendor of the huge structure, with its marble columns and towering ceilings. It is too much to absorb in just one visit, for one can grasp only the obvious. But, each succeeding trip will reveal "hidden" delights tucked away among the balconies and balustrades. Even such mundane objects as doorknobs shine as works of art.

Ground was broken for what was to become a masterpiece of the builders' skill in April, 1922, and this unusual State Capitol features the very best that its master architect Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue could obtain. Ten years in the building, it cost about $10 million but, today, would cost 7 to 10 times that amount. And, no detail was so unimportant that it could be overlooked.

Each minute item has its place and, thus, was carefully blended into the APRIL 1970 25  

26 overall design. It is the tiny, almost unnoticed, detail that begs to be discovered. Such intricate designs, as in the chandeliers, almost escape notice at first inspection.

Meanwhile, soft light filters through onyx windows framed with Colorado yule, and a close look reveals that same ultra-white marble in the balustrades of the balconies around the rotunda. There, too, careful scrutiny reveals such works of art as onyx meadowlarks.

Surrounded by well-manicured lawns, this unusual statehouse centers four square blocks in the heart of Lincoln. The tower rises from the very core of this "cross within a square". Individual little courtyards nestle within each interior corner.

Heroic figures of charity, faith, courage, temperance, wisdom, justice, and magnanimity dominate the rotunda dome in the heart of the Capitol. Twenty-four pillars of French marble, noted for its regular veining and soft glow, appear to support the dome but do not. The intriguing mosaics throughout the building required

  years of painstaking effort to cut, fit, and place.

A mammoth array of murals, carvings, and mosaics tells in graphic detail the inspiring story of the world in general and the Great Plains in particular. Loving hands recreated in stone, tile, wood, and canvas the fascinating sagas of the ages. From the magnificent chandelier in the great hall to the infinite detail in the working chambers, artists and craftsmen blended their talents and skills to create a structure of which all Nebraskans can be justly proud.

From the elaborately carved walnut ceiling in the Supreme Court chamber to the 1,500-pound Indian doors of the old Senate chamber, the beauties of this fabulous edifice wait to be discovered. Guided tours, conducted every day, are the ideal way to become acquainted with this great building. But, to really see its magnificence, amble through its halls and galleries at your own pace. Scrutinize it and savor its beauty. After all, it belongs to you. THE END

Next month, NEBRASKAland will present the second and concluding series of color photographs on the oft-overlooked little things that help make Nebraska's State Capitol an architectural wonder of the world. 28 NEBRASKAland APRIL 1970 29

THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM

Heated grandstands at Fonner Park add living-room comfort to the "Sport of Kings"—horse racing

by Ken Bouc

FIRST CLASS thoroughbred racing in March? In Nebraska? Impossible, snorted oldtimers only a few years ago. But they're believers today, as they watch the first race of Nebraska's season each year from the comfort of a glass-enclosed grandstand at Grand Island's Fonner Park.

At one time, this "Sport of Kings" was thought to belong only to a few balmy, sun-sprinkled spring and summer days. But tracks like Fonner Park have proven this idea wrong and have given thoroughbred fans many extra days of sport in the bargain.

Action at this initial meet of the Nebraska season may take place in a chilling wind and cold rain, or a few snow flakes may sting the jockeys and their mounts. But, the weather will not dampen the spirit or chill the enthusiasm of the fans, as they remain snugly perched at good vantage points in the heated grandstand.

Racing buffs look over the ponies in an enclosed paddock, make their selections, then place their bets in the concourse or mezzanine, and cheer on a longshot or a favorite from the heated stands, all without exposure to the elements. Only the ponies and their riders must face the weather, and then only for the few short minutes and seconds during the heat of competition.

Every aspect of the park is geared toward the early opening date and all-weather operation. The sensitive hooves of thoroughbreds run on a track that is treated with 75 tons of salty anti-freeze and kept clear of snow throughout the long winter.

Even training has been "winterized" at Fonner, the most complete all-weather track in the state. Now trainers can work their horses all year long if they wish, because a new 112,000 square-foot multi-purpose building finished in February includes a quarter-mile track under its roof. Now (Continued on page 53)

30

THE STEEN YEARS

A dedicated public servant with ability to dream and make his dreams come true — that's Game and Parks Commission's "Tiger on the hill"

by Elizabeth Huff 32

MELVIN O. STEEN is a much "cussed" and discussed man. The short, chunky, white-haired chief of the Game and Parks Commission exudes vitality and energy. He demands the best from those associated with him and he usually gets it or "a pretty good reason why".

In the 14 years since he came to Nebraska, he has made friends and he has made enemies, for no man who takes a firm stand on issues can avoid incurring someone's displeasure. Few people will take a middle ground when his name enters a conversation, for Mel Steen is a mover and a shaker. And, he has moved and shaken the lethargy from a good many Nebraskans.

But, what is more important, he has accomplished the lion's share of the tasks he set for himself when he came here in 1956. Unquestionably, he has stepped on some toes in the process, but tender toes, be they friend or foe, had best move out of the way when M. O. Steen goes in motion.

The "tiger on the hill" seems to thrive on controversy—at least, he never let it detour him from a course he felt was right. And, sometimes the controversy could become pretty heated, but like a Missourian named Harry Truman said, "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." Mel Steen has stayed in the kitchen.

One of the most flamboyant characters to grace the Nebraska scene in many a year, Steen is the first to admit that he could not achieve his goals alone. He had not only the backing of his Commission, but the aid of governors, state senators, other agency heads, and the ear of many influential people in Washington.

M. O. Steen is a determined man, a man who has never learned to take "no" for an answer. Who he knows and what he knows are essential, but his bulldog tenacity brought him success where less determined men would falter and fail.

"Whether a project is popular or unpopular is beside the point," he admonishes. "That is no criteria. And, there is nothing that cannot be changed if it is the right thing to do. It might take 25 years, but I'm not going to quit just because of rules, procedures, or red tape."

Perhaps that statement is the key to the personality of this complex and knowledgeable man who has accomplished so much in less than a decade and a half.

A dedicated public servant with the ability to dream and make those dreams come true — that is M. O. Steen.

Asked to list what he personally considers his greatest achievements during the past 14 years, he leaned forward in his chair and pondered for many moments. And, that is not surprising, for this man has many accomplishments to ponder. He then reached for a pen and paper and began to compile "his" list. As the conversation continued that afternoon, he would pause from time to time to make another entry.

That list goes something like this, although not necessarily in order of importance: Chain of Lakes, Scouts Rest Ranch, restoration of Fort Kearny, development and expansion of Fort Robinson State Park, acquisition and development of Ash Hollow State Historical Park, developments on the Salt Creek reservoirs, development of the Rock Creek Pony Express Station, development of Lake McConaughy and the southwest reservoirs, initiation of Indian Cave State Park, development of Two Rivers with its fee trout fishing, acquisition and proposed development of APRIL 1970

33   34 Fort Atkinson, development at Fort Hartsuff, creation of new wayside parks, expansion of public hunting and fishing areas, acquisition of the Aerospace Museum, the re-creation of Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, which is now in the planning stages, and bringing to reality in Nebraska the Land and Water Conservation Fund program.

As he spoke his eyes twinkled and he relished the recollections of battles fought and won and others waged and lost. It is easy to see that of all his endeavors, his pets are the Platte Valley Chain of Lakes and the restoration of Buffalo Bill Cody's Scouts Rest Ranch.

He recalls his first visit to Nebraska after accepting the job as director. A cattle raiser in Missouri and interested in polled herefords, Steen made a special trip to North Platte to see Orville Kuhlman's prize bull "Goldmine". That trip to see Kuhlman, who ranched Buffalo Bill's old spread, proved to be the beginning chapter in the ultimate restoration of Scouts Rest Ranch —now Buffalo Bill Ranch State Historical Park.

When he returned home full of enthusiasm about Goldmine, his son Lloyd kept prodding him about the famous ranch. The younger Steen could not believe that such a historical place was simply another cattle ranch. It set the new Game and Parks director to wondering, too, and in his new capacity he could —and would —do something about it. Ultimately, with the dedicated aid of then Commissioner Don Robertson, the City of North Platte and the State of Nebraska purchased the land where Buffalo Bill's home and barn stood. Progress was slow, but now visitors from across the state and nation enjoy the fruits of those labors.

Many areas attracted Steen's attention and stirred his interest. What he saw was a tremendous challenge to move Nebraska forward in all areas of the Commission's responsibility, be it parks, fisheries, game, or land management. Not many years passed before the Legislature turned the promotion of travel over to his capable leadership.

"Nebraska had and has great potential as a travel market," Steen stressed. "But, there were many problems. Tourists avoided Nebraska. They felt there were no roads, no accommodations. It was then the idea for the developments along Interstate 80 began to crystalize. I realized that the great Platte Valley always had been and would continue to be the natural pathway for East-West travel. It is the major artery between the populous East and the playgrounds of the West.

"But...we had an image to change. Out-of-staters felt that Nebraska was a nowhere place in the middle of the country with nothing but farms and cows. No one had told them about this state's magnificent western heritage... about Fort Kearny or Scouts Rest.

"Thus, preservation of our heritage serves a dual purpose —honoring the past and filling a need in the tourist-promotion field. So, too, the Chain of Lakes serves a double purpose —to beautify the Interstate and to stop travelers who might just keep on going."

Nebraskans now point with pride to those scenic little oases along 1-80, known as the Chain of Lakes, but once they laughed at the idea and the man who proposed it. While much remains to be done in the Chain of Lakes development, the groundwork has been laid and the project is well on its way.

Many a Nebraskan has changed his views after one of Steen's fact-filled discourses, and the curved index finger has become a trademark as he drives home a point.

Under his guidance, Nebraska pioneered in the field of pheasant management, innovating a program NEBRASKAland

that is now being followed by other states. Basically, Steen's theory holds that the pheasant is a creature of heavy covers that are gradually being eliminated. The pheasant population is directly related to the environment in the long run, although the annual picture is affected by climatic conditions.

Thus, the Commission undertook two major steps: (1) attempted to hold the line on the environment through the maintenance of permanent cover and tried to maintain cover on a large scale through federal projects such as the soil-bank and Cropland Adjustment Program (CAP) and (2) provided trees and shrubs to farmers for conservation practices.

Steen was a motivating force behind both the soil bank and CAP, since he was the first wildlife man in the country to espouse the soil bank. CAP came about as a result of another proposal he made to the American Association of Fish and Game Commissioners when he was chairman of a committee on land use.

"Trouble is," Steen fretted, "that these programs are much too limited in scope. Our ability to put cover on the land falls far short of any substantial accomplishplishment. At the present time, CAP has enrolled 198,000 acres in Nebraska which cost the federal government $4 million a year. To restore the cover as it was in the late '30's, we would have to retire between 5 million and 8 million acres, for that was the amount of land that lay idle at the peak of the pheasant's heyday.

"I get the feeling of a little barefoot boy with a wooden sword trying to stop a 40-ton tank, when I think how the cover is disappearing. We are losing it eight times faster than we could ever put it back. We must work through the farmers and make it economically feasible for them to preserve cover. That is why stocking is not practical. If we ever get as hard up for birds as New York or New Jersey and hunters are willing to pay $5 each for pheasants, then stocking would be feasible. While (Continued on page 51)

APRIL 1970 35

MEMORIES OF A SCHOOLMARM

Three R's become five as I add rattlesnakes and revolvers to our education on the plains

by Mattie Simmons as told to Faye Musil 36 NEBRASKAland

MY FIRST DAY in that early Nebraska school was just about my last. It began with eight pupils in eight different grades, all studying from different texts. It ended with a rattlesnake. I had to dismiss my class through a window because the snake blocked the door.

I'd been told that it wouldn't be easy, but I wasn't prepared for this all at once. I learned fast, though, out of necessity. Before the year was over, that mother rattlesnake gave birth to about 20 snakes in the shelter of my schoolhouse. Almost all prairie wildlife made its way into the building at one time or another.

Not all unwanted guests were varments, though, and I took the advice of the previous schoolmarm. I kept a revolver handy to protect against cowboys as well as snakes.

I soon found that I had to be ready for anything, from snakes and coyotes to parents anxious about their children's morals and manners. The upkeep of the schoolhouse was my concern. And that meant getting there early in the morning to start the fire. At night, I turned janitor and cleaned the soddie.

My pay matched the times. A salary of $36 a month in those days, 1885, was high. That doesn't seem like a lot until you realize I only paid $1.50 a month for room and board —before I homesteaded my own land. I was paid only for the days I taught. If a snowstorm canceled school or if too many pupils were in the fields, my PaY was docked for those days.

My dress, hours, and habits were strictly regulated for the protection of my students. I was to set a perfect, or nearly perfect, example. Some contracts in those days even regulated courting, including the number of evenings that the teacher could go "out". She must be in by 9:30 or 10 p.m. A drink of alcohol or a puff of smoke was grounds for automatic dismissal. There were few married schoolmarms.

Helpful hints for the teacher later appeared in The Nebraska Teacher, first issued in September, 1898. We muddled through somehow before that. The magazine carried instances of teachers being dropped for dancing and card playing. It noted that married women were discriminated against as were Catholics.

Some school boards were said to be concerned because young lady teachers seemed overanxious for husbands, having company too much to do their homework.

An editorial warned of bad breath and body odor, suggesting that a teacher brush his or her teeth three times a day and spend 60 rather than 15 cents a week on laundry.

To the early settlers of Nebraska, education was the road to a better life for their children and they insisted that the youngsters be given a good example

APRIL 1970 37   while they learned reading and writing. Often even the members of the early school boards couldn't read or write. On one occasion in my district, the board offered help in "lamming" the big students if necessary.

Once the pioneer families were housed, a school was the next concern. At first there were no teachers and no schools as such. The center of education was a corner of the family soddy and mother was the teacher. But gradually, the women who had had the most education back East were singled out as instructors for the neighborhood children.

The first Hall County school opened in 1864. It was run by a farmer for the children of neighboring families. The other farmers paid by working his land.

Later, teachers were "imported" from the East. Our first school was formed when four families clubbed together and hired a teacher. One room was set aside in the homestead as a schoolroom. "Mother" also kept the schoolteacher and her two little girls. At that time the family had increased to nine children.

As time passed, Nebraska's pioneers decided that schools should be separated from the distractions of a home. New locations were sought, some of which would be considered impossible today. Part of a one-room grocery served as a schoolhouse, while the front part of a carpenter shop did its share, as did the attic of a home, a granary, and a vacant saloon. Finally separate schoolhouses appeared. They weren't fancy, but they served the purpose.

Severe snowstorms blew across the prairie in winter, and drought, prairie fires, and grasshoppers took the crops in summer. The Pawnee Indian Reservation was only a few miles away.

Prosperity meant schools; times of troubles meant none. In the old days blizzards raged across the plains with all the fury of the elements unleashed. In the open, treeless spaces, almost any snowstorm could become a blizzard when tossed before a blustery wind. School was then dismissed or cancelled in an attempt to protect the children. During the blizzard of '88 I dismissed school early, but before anyone had left one of the fathers came with a lumber wagon and said, "I'll take all going south; the rest stay here till someone comes for you." And to me he said, 'You stay till the

38 NEBRASKAland last one has been taken home." Everyone got home safely.

Another teacher tied all the students' horses together and took them home one by one during a later blizzard. He then stayed with the Kinkaiders at the end of the line.

A 16-year-old pupil of the first Hall County school was killed by Indians while hunting on the Loup. But despite danger and discomfort, students came, and school was held no matter what.

A Cherry County teacher recalls a little girl who rode horseback — with her skirts blowing. Even in below zero temperature the child would ride to school, bare knees raw with cold.

"I started to school in the third grade," ex-Nebraskan Tom Adams wrote me, "and walked 2 1/2 miles each day, as there were no buses in those days. During the fall harvest season, and spring plowing and planting, there were times when I was the only pupil in school, but we had our regular classes, regardless. The main subjects were the three "R"s, with geography and physiology besides. Nothing was furnished the pupils in the way of entertainment or athletics."

School started the first of September and ran for nine months, with only a week's vacation at Christmas time. Then the teacher got to go home for a visit. The rest of the time I stayed at one of the homes in the district and sometimes had to walk over a mile to my school. I had to get there early enough to build a fire in the stove, do the sweeping and dusting, and get a pail of fresh water before the pupils started to arrive."

And water was often a good distance from the school. Sometimes one of the older boys carried water from a nearby farm. We had one dipper and had to watch the boys and girls so they would not pour back the water left in the dipper. You know it was hard work to carry water by the pailful.

In the days before the population explosion, prairie homes were spread long distances. Children were forced to walk a far piece for their education. To prevent the youngsters from getting lost, dad would plow a furrow from home to the school each fall before school started. To lessen their children's walking distance, home- steaders sought to have the (Continued on page 52)

Photos courtesy of Nebraska State Education Association APRIL 1970 39

AGELESS CITADEL

Resembling a Spanish fort, Beaver Wall withstands the onslaughts of time

Photographs by Lou Ell, Text by Lowell Johnson 40 NEBRASKAland

TOWERING OVER the tranquil valley like a gigantic fortress on the edge of Nebraska's Pine Ridge, stands rugged, pocked Beaver Wall. Closely resembling a Spanish fortification built to withstand the onslaughts of vengeance-seeking crusaders, Beaver Wall is actually a natural phenomenon. For centuries, however, its buttresses and ramparts have constantly been beseiged by even more formidable enemies than human armies-time and the elements.

Though appearing indestructible, the ponderous stone castle, complete with turrets, spires, and cannon ports, is slowly ebbing in magnificence. Basic forces of nature combine to chisel at the foundations. The abrasive winds cut gaping holes APRIL 1970 41  

into the face of the cliff. Torrents of rain wash away the mortar which holds the layers of limestone together.

Visible from the county road wending its way from Chadron to Whiteclay, Beaver Wall has looked down upon the puny efforts of man to tame the land. For centuries, the escarpments led only to the impenetrable base of the varicolored wall. For nearly three miles the bluff was an insurmountable barrier save for one chink in the armor. There, like a drawbridge, a narrow trail wound up the 300 feet from valley floor to bluff top. Along this trail rode Indian hunting parties, trappers and their fur-laden horses, an occasional cowboy, and later youngsters who utilized the 42 NEBRASKAland

passage as a shortcut to school.

The citadel has witnessed much history. Its moat is Beaver Creek, a mere trickle meandering near the wall's base. Along the stream banks many forms of wildlife browsed and dozed, so the Red Man found hunting productive. Later, when conflict with white settlers became necessary, the hunting parties turned into war parties. Chief Crazy Horse rode there and was reportedly buried in the shadow of the cliff. Soldiers also traversed the area, and General Sheridan camped nearby. Arches carved out of the soft stone by sand-laden winds are unique in this part of the country, resembling the deep-canyon etchings of the southwest. A geological APRIL 1970 43  

upheaval formed the wall, which separates the flat tablelands above and below. Turrets and spires which have withstood the sloughing and chiseling efforts of Mother Nature are gaunt and craggy tributes to the soil's stubbornness. Earthen dungeons formed deep within the recesses of the eroding limestone have doubtless held captives, but they were imprisoned by some accident rather than for any martial misdeeds.

As with all things, time is the greatest threat. Inescapably, the great wall is being sapped of its substance and stature. Gradually the sheer cliff is slumping and crumbling to form a gentle slope. Pine trees and prairie grasses climb ever 44 NEBRASKAland

higher, sending roots into the newly-fallen layers and finding stepstones on the face of the wall itself.

Many centuries more of observing the countryside lie ahead for the great castle, and it will continue to endure the ravages of battle with the elements. Though its fate is sealed, it can fight valiantly against the inevitable as it has in the past. Perhaps the most strenuous destructive forces are gone now, and the aging fortress can more gracefully surrender its battlements to some future victor, yet the same one that created it in the first place. Until then, the stark beauty of the battle-scarred wall is a monument to its long, patient vigil. THE END

APRIL 1970 45

OLD YELLER ... OR SAM

He was a mongrel and a drifter, but he knew his way around. And, his independent spirit brought sadness and happiness to two families

by Patricia Anderson

FOR SEVERAL DAYS before he strolled into the yard, we had noticed him wandering around the farm like a penniless gentleman. When he finally decided to walk into our lives, we knew that the drifter would probably leave again some day. But even so, our family became very attached to him.

He was a long-haired dog with a white ruff, white head, and a white-tipped tail. The dog was part collie, but instead of a long, pointed head, his muzzle was short and blunt. In addition to his white markings, he was sun yellow. That is partly why we called him "Old Yeller".

When he proudly walked into the yard on that first day, I picked up a broom to chase the stray away. As I did, the shaggy dog nonchalantly walked into the shade of an elm tree and laid down. His right ear was bent down, he was covered with dirt, and I could see that he had been in a fight. Instantly I wanted to help him, but somehow I knew that he did not want or even expect any aid. Returning to the house, I exchanged the broom for a pan of cool water.

For several days Old Yeller remained in the shade of the elm, watching every movement around him and getting up only to eat. But one morning he slowly got to his feet and ambled after my dad and brother, Raymond. For a while he watched them drive in the cows, then he decided to lend them a hand. As a trail herder he was an immediate success and that day the cows came home in two herds. Dad and Raymond drove one, but Old Yeller had his own and he kept the nervous cows moving by nipping at their heels and pulling their tails.

The mongrel won our hearts without any trouble, but Mom was skeptical about the dog. Her theory was that he was just another stray that someone had dumped in the country while still a puppy. But the drifter had some habits that I knew he had to learn from a master. For example, he used to stand and wait for me to dump food scraps into a bowl before he would eat. It amused me to see him look down his nose at the other dogs and cats as they scrambled for the bowl the minute I walked out of the door.

An avid hunter, my father had spent one year training a young female called "Snoppy" to retrieve. When Yeller came, it was inevitable that he would go hunting, too. On his first excursion he watched the younger dog work and then evidently thinking he could do a little better, he joined in. It wasn't long before he convinced both Snoopy and dad that he was going to do the retrieving.

After Yeller had been with us a year, we felt sure he was ours forever. In fact, two incidents with Fritz, a big German shepherd, seemed to prove that the onetime drifter considered us as his family.

One morning, Fritz, who was trained as a police dog, then sold to a neighbor because he would not obey, wandered into the yard. Unlike Yeller, who had grown rounder, and stiffer (Continued on page 62)

CLEAR CREEK REFUGE

Benefiting both gunners and geese, the area provides sancuary for thousands of honkers every year

48 NEBRASKAland

MAJESTIC CANADA GEESE are hardy birds that can survive most of the hazards nature throws at them. But these long-distance flyers need stop-over areas on their yearly migration. That is why there is a need for places like Nebraska's Clear Creek Waterfowl Management Area.

Located on the west end of Lake McConaughy, Clear Creek was established in 1960 to give shell-shocked honkers a breather during their fall migration. Although the land belongs to the Central Nebraska Public Power and Irrigation District, it is leased to the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission for wildlife management. The surrounding terrain varies from marshes to farmland to high bluffs, and offers these marathon flyers a desirable combination of land, water, food, and sanctuary. The tract consists of 2,300 acres, although the Keith-Garden County refuge is upriver, and Lake McConaughy spreads out below the area.

Clear Creek gives geese a place to feed and rest, and their presence means more hunting for waterfowlers. The increased shooting opportunity has created some problems below the refuge, however, mainly through increased competition for hunting and blind sites. The Game and Parks Commission is in the process of taking a closer look at the Clear Creek area, with hopes of establishing a more workable hunting arrangement for future goose seasons.

Each fall, 6,000 to 13,000 geese visit the area, and hunters annually harvest from 600 to 900 birds as they fly from the refuge to feeding grounds or to Lake McConaughy. First viewed as an encroachment on their hunting opportunities, hunters now support Clear Creek because it increases the number of geese and lengthens their stay in central Nebraska.

Before the refuge was established, the number of Canadas in the area was diminishing from year to year because of excessive hunting pressure. One year after Clear Creek's establishment more than 1,400 geese wintered there and in 1966 an estimated 13,000 Canadas stopped in. About 7,500 of these geese remained until December 1 and about 3,500 stayed through the winter. Observers estimate the peak for wintering Canadas was in 1963 when 5,000 geese were counted after January 1.

A benefit to both gunners and geese, wildlife-management success at Clear Creek did not just happen when boundaries were drawn and land was declared off limits to hunters. Liberal use of axe and elbow grease eliminated undesirable willows, cottonwoods, and Russian olives along the North Platte River. A herd of goats was a less successful tool in combating bulrushes and willows on islands in the Platte. These constantly browsing critters were supposed to eat the undesirable cover on the islands. But the grass must have seemed greener on the far banks, for the animals paddled ashore.

Besides converting the land to the more open terrain preferred by spooky honkers, providing food during their stay is another major job. Tenants, sub-leasing lands during the nine months when honkers are absent, pay their rent with a share of their crops. Most of the Commission's share is left standing in the fields for the geese. Though most of the land is farmed by tenants, Game Commission personnel do some planting. Winter honker food includes grain crops and goose "pastures" of winter wheat, rye, and fescue.

Caring for a penned resident flock of more than 50 wing-clipped Canadas is another major task at Clear Creek. The purpose of the flock is to raise young Canadas for Clear Creek and other goose projects in

APRIL 1970 49   the state. Significant gosling production is expected in the spring. Some of the penned birds will become free flyers in hopes of establishing a local population of wild honkers.

Though not considered a vital function, since Canadas have used the area before the Game Commission took over control of the area, the flock is also used to attract the first migrants. Veterans Day usually sees the arrival of the big honkers, and some remain until March when they fly to nesting grounds in northern marshes. It is hoped that some of the wild geese will join the resident flock in raising young. Platforms have already been constructed of various materials to encourage nesting.

Although closed to public access during the waterfowl migrations the area offers sportsmen an added bonus in fishing when the honkers are not around. Like the upper feeder streams on other major reservoirs, the channels of the North Platte and Clear Creek provide outstanding catfishing in the spring, and white 50 bass are taken in these waters in their seasonal runs in the river.

Although managing the present goose crop is the major objective, Clear Creek may have an impact on tomorrow's flocks by giving researchers an opportunity to study the birds. Canada concentrations at Clear Creek provide game technicians a perfect opportunity to trap and band birds once the season is over. Age, weight, and sex of a trapped bird are recorded, and once a leg band is put on, the bird is released.

Months, perhaps years later, the recovered bands will provide identification of geese that are trapped again or bagged by hunters. This data will give clues to numbers, group movements, and will help chart continental migrations and movements in the state.

The pressure on the Canada goose increases each fall as he gains prestige as a trophy among hunters. But with food and sanctuary at places like Clear Creek, the Canada goose should be a part of the fall scene in Nebraska for generations to come. THE END

NEBRASKAland

SIX MINUTES TO TOMS

(Continued from page 18)

flames. She was almost within touching distance when she stopped, but she didn't give any ground. The deer resumed her stomping and snorting as the squirrel kept rattling away, but she never tensed for that final charge. That doe must have been a left-hander or rather a left-footer for she continually pounded her left hoof against the turf. When she wasn't stomping, the doe whitetail stood with her front leg raised like a pointer hot on a covey.

The minutes were like snails as the doe and I faced each other in this crazy stare down. Then the squirrel tired of the vocal duel and holed up. Slowly, the deer unwound, backed away, flipped her tail in victory, and sauntered off, taking her companions with her. Cecil had watched the whole amazing show.

"Doesn't that beat all?" he marveled. "If I hunt with you for a week, I'll be a steady contributor to "Believe It or Not". First, two turkeys with their heads crossed and now, a face-to-face showdown with a doe. There were a few times I expected you to come bailing out of that blind like a turpentined cat. That deer meant mayhem."

"I was torn between curiosity and fear. Curiosity won, but wasn't that something?" I admitted. "Tomorrow I'm going to get me a gobble bird."

The next morning we went back to the canyons and I came as close to getting a turkey as a man can and still come out empty-handed. It was calm and the gobblers were in a responsive mood. Cecil's first call brought an immediate reply. The torn was mighty close and very interested in our sweet talk, but he was also cautious. We could hear him gobbling and strutting just a few yards away, but he never left the concealing brush. Then he must have spotted me. I heard the rapid staccato of his fleeing feet on the dead leaves and then all was still. That was it, for I had to give up hunting and return to Lincoln.

Cecil was sorely disappointed that I didn't get a gobbler. He urged me to come up for the last weekend of the season. It was tempting, but after that last letdown when I had been so close and yet so far, getting a gobbler didn't seem so all-fired important. I had experienced not one but two once-in-a-lifetime adventures and their memories were far more satisfying to me than the carcass of a turkey in the deep freeze. THE END

THE STEEN YEARS

(Continued from page 35)

I have been cussed and discussed, I have stuck to the truth, for only in the truth is there salvation. I didn't come to Nebraska to compete in a popularity contest."

Steen has also tried to develop better use of the resource by encouraging people to hunt harder, and through the cocks-only pheasant season which makes it nigh impossible to overharvest. When APRIL 1970 he came to Nebraska, gunners were taking only 35 to 40 percent of the available roosters. Now they harvest about 55 to 60 percent, thanks to Steen's efforts for a longer season and less stringent regulations.

Hunters now have wild turkey seasons. But, before Steen, many releases of game-farm turkeys were made by individuals and the state and failed. Like other nonmigratory birds, turkeys live in geographical races or subspecies which are best adapted to the environment.

"People can understand why pineapples won't grow in Nebraska," he said, "but they can't understand about turkeys. They were native here, you know, but were extinct by the turn of the century.

"When I first saw the Pine Ridge, I said this is similar to the range of the Merriam's turkey of the southwest. They live in relatively high, ponderosa-pine country and have a remarkable ability to withstand the cold weather. So, why not try them?

"I had a "helluva" fight up there around Chadron and Crawford because they wanted to stock the Virginia turkey from the game farms. But, I didn't want the Virginia cluttering up the strain of Merriam's that might develop.

"Well, nothing succeeds like success. And that Merriam's stocking was the most outstanding success I've ever seen. We stocked 28 live-trapped birds in 1959 and opened the season in 1962."

Many other game programs originated or accelerated under his leadership. Deer management has produced a tremendous population. Through his efforts, the federal government began its wetlands acquisition program. Nebraska held its first special mallard drake season last winter. And, the Commission undertook the trapping and transplanting of antelope. One winter, biologists trapped something like 1,200 antelope.

"That was the largest single transplant of big-game species in this country in so short a time," Steen recalled as he thought back to the project.

In the area of fisheries, many new species have been introduced through his efforts. Since 1957, anglers have seen the introduction of the coho and kokanee salmon, the Sacramento perch, the striped bass, the white perch, the spotted bass, and the redear sunfish.

Still, Nebraska had and has a problem. The people are in the eastern part of the state and the water playgrounds are in the west. That meant devising some means to bring fish to the people, which required support for the construction of new waters like the Salt Valley reservoirs.

"I scraped the bottom of the dollar barrel until I got slivers under my fingernails to get the development of the public-use facilities on these areas," Steen reminisced. "And, so far we have spent $2 million on that development. We propose to do the same with the Papio watershed when it becomes reality. And, that is the reason we are interested in the Platte Dam —the crying need for water-oriented recreation areas in eastern Nebraska.

"While I won't pass judgement on the other values of the proposed Platte reservoir, it would be manna from heaven as far as water recreation is concerned."

Steen considers the decade of the 60's as one of planning and preparation in all phases of Commission activity. "The real developments will come in the 70's," he predicts.

This is a man who cares —and cares enough to act in spite of opposition and ridicule. Along the way, he has garnered many honors like the presidency of the International Association of Game, Fish, and Conservation Commissioners. And, he has won the praise of many like former Governor Frank Morrison who said: "Mel Steen is one of the best things that has happened to Nebraska!" THE END

51

MEMORIES OF A SCHOOLMARM

(Continued from page 39)

school located near their homes. Bitter arguments over location rivaled the fabled battles between homesteaders and cattlemen. One district almost solved the problem by placing the school on skids and moving it each fall to where the largest number of children lived. It is told, however, that a homesteader glanced up from his plowing to see the district schoolhouse trudging by like a giant turtle. Quickly he gathered the neighborhood to stop those schoolhouse rustlers. In another place students arrived at the school site to be greeted by silence. The building had been heisted during the night.

Wide open spaces or not, schools were built. They were dugouts or frame or sod houses which were so open that the sun could enter through crevices.

The dugout schools were poorly lighted and ventilated. The seats were placed round the dugout with walls for backs. They were made of slabs with stakes — two at each end, through two-inch holes — elevating the slabs to the required height. As the slabs dried, the stakes protruded and one had to be careful in sitting down or "hitching" over, for the stakes could play havoc with flesh and fabric.

Durable calico dresses and overalls were made to withstand such wear — almost. The wardrobes were varied by clothing made from grain sacks, with skins and homespun adding spice. Coats and shawls were made from remnants of garments brought from the East. A boy might wear his father's oversized army greatcoat or a coat fashioned from an old army blanket. Animals donated their skins for caps, and home-knitted mittens and stocking caps kept hands and ears warm.

I always wore long black skirts with tight waists, white blouses with long sleeves and high necks, and white aprons. My hair was coiled high with steel combs to hold it in place. Students ate on the frozen lunch program in winter. Pancakes, sowbelly, or maybe soggy sandwiches made up their substantial diets.

The small stove burned soft coal which gave us rosy cheeks, but cold backs and feet, and at night we buried our ink bottles in the ashes to keep the ink from freezing solid.

Usually the cold dugout would be followed by a soddie. These sod houses were cool in summer and easily heated in winter; but the dirt floors were a problem. As part of the floor was swept away each day, the soddie eventually required a step down upon entering.

Almost every day, mice would run up and down the walls of the old, unplastered sod school.

There were even a few log schools. The walls were undressed logs notched at the corners and chinked with mortar. The roof was wide boards, laid across the roof timbers. These boards were boxed off at the eaves to hold the 16 inches or so of dirt piled on them. This made an excellent roof—in dry weather.

During a rain, water seeped through and study was interrupted by dashes from one spot to another to avoid a mud bath.

The floorboards never quite reached the level of the walls, so snow sifted in to be melted by the small stove. Everyone wore outdoor clothes, with the exception of mittens and hats, and the room always smelled of scorched leather and wool.

In Scotts Bluff County, a school was built in 1886 with walls of baled straw, a sod roof, and dirt floor. It was 16 feet long, 12 feet wide, and 7 feet high. Within two years cattle had devoured it.

Another school lost its north end one night when cattle raided the schoolyard and spent the night rubbing their backs. A school in Custer County used corn for fuel, which created another animal problem. Wandering pigs would raid the fuel supply and school had to be interrupted to shoo them off.

In time school boards were elected and school districts set up. Teachers' salaries were set and books bought. In 1871, School District No. 31 in Dodge County began furnishing free texts to pupils — uniform texts. Until that time there was no place in Nebraska, unless by accident, where each student had the same text as the other students of his grade. Until that time teachers had to co-ordinate the activities of several students with several different textbooks in several grades, to boot. Eight or 10 different texts might be available for 30 to 40 students in the class.

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Once there was no homework. Students did their lessons in school. There weren't enough books for each child to take one home anyway. In school, though, double desks made it easy for two to study from one book.

At first not everyone in a given school district felt obliged to pay the school tax; not everyone could. After several years of budget balancing, one district in desperation authorized acceptance of one-half back taxes as full payment.

Though high schools were slow to develop, colleges sprang up everywhere — on paper. While high schools were quietly following the elementary schools, dozens of colleges were chartered.

The University of Fontenelle was the most successful of the early colleges. Chartered in 1855, it opened its doors in 1858 and closed in 1859. Contributing factors were the financial crisis of 1857-59; the discovery of gold on Pike's Peak, which left three-fourths of the houses in Fontenelle unoccupied; the Pawnee Indian War of 1859, and the fact that Fontenelle was not chosen as the state capital.

Despite snakes, bugs, leaky roofs, cold, distance, blizzards, poor lighting, cattle, harvests, and myriad other discomforts, county and state supervision at length began to bring standards up. Educational progress made Nebraska's literacy rate the fourth highest in the nation by 1940.

But I remember the 1880's when I taught school and lived alone on my claim, surrounded by the empty stillness. I remember listening while a lonely coyote wailed at the moon and thinking of a tomorrow full of children's sing-song voices. THE END

Mattie Simmons is a fictitious character, invented to tie together all the tales of early Nebraska schools told us by scattered individuals and documents.— Editor.

THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM

(Continued from page 35)

Nebraska horsemen can condition their steeds on this oval instead of spending expensive weeks working their thoroughbreds at warmer southern tracks.

But things were not always so rosy for early-season racing at Fonner Park. This Grand Island track, the result of more than $2 million in investments over the years, had humbler beginnings. Founded in 1954 with $260,000 original capital, the track had none of the all-weather facilities it boasts today. In 1958, the open grandstand was enlarged and enclosed in glass, the first in a series of major improvements to the stands and the rest of the park's physical plant. Today, the grandstand has a seating capacity of 5,000 and includes 2 rows of box seats, a concourse on the ground floor, a mezzanine above, and the enclosed paddock to one side.

In addition to the grandstand, Fonner's physical assets now include an office building, a 20-acre hard-surfaced parking lot, 17 horse barns, and several other buildings for maintenance work, veterinary services, and other functions. With the 280 stalls in the new multipurpose building, Fonner Park can now stable more than 1,000 horses.

Early racing and the facilities at Fonner Park are apparently quite popular with all concerned, including trainers, jockeys, and racing fans. During the 1969 meet, more than 138,000 fans attended. Average daily count at the turn-stiles was 4,760, quite impressive considering the 5,000-seat capacity. Fonner's mutuel handle for the 30 days of racing was $6,660,097.

Racing buffs from all over the state and nation journey to Grand Island to get a preview of top horses to run in the coming season. On a typical day last year, a census of the parking lot snowed 2,686 cars with license plates from 74 Nebraska counties and 21 other states.

Satisfaction with Fonner Park and the meets it conducts each year is also evident among horse owners and their trainers, as applications for stable space each year nears or surpasses the 1,500 mark. With only 1,040 stalls available, the track's officials must screen the horses, allowing space only to thoroughbreds that fit Fonner's racing program.

And the horses selected are among the best available because of the early starting date. Horsemen are anxious to see how their winter's work has paid off, and the early races give owners and trainers an idea of how their horses stack up against the competition.

Trainers also like the early meet at Fonner because it gives untried horses a taste of real competition and an edge in experience over horses that start racing later in the season.

Talented but unknown jockeys set their sights on the early dates at Fonner Park. Experience gained during the initial meet of the season helps them all year long, and jockeys that do well in Grand Island and get a break or two during the year are often high in the jockey standings when the season's final race is run.

The caliber of the competitors at Fonner Park each year is illustrated by horses like Mighty Classy, brought in all the way from Grenville, New Mexico by owner Sam Britt. Last year, as a three-year-old, this filly was one of the most popular horses at the track, and she rewarded her fans well with three victories in four starts, and a third-place finish in the fourth race.

She went on to a fine season at Ak-Sar-Ben and tracks in Denver, Albuquerque, and Chicago, finishing in the money in all but her first start of the season. Her season's record included 10 wins, 7 places, and 4 shows, with earnings of $38,825.

Another popular horse was a homegrown charger, Bold Accent, owned by Paul Kemling of Aurora. Bold Accent posted two wins at Fonner during 1969 and had a good season at other tracks. Both horses will be back for the 1970 campaign.

But good horses are only a part of the story of the fine competition at Grand Island. Top-notch jockeys bring out the best in their mounts, and Fred Ecoffey is a perennial contender for the best record at Fonner Park and the enitre Nebraska (Continued on page 58)

APRIL 1970 53

Where to go Scotia Chalk Mine Louis E. May Historical Museum

HAPPY JACK HILL has a secret. Hidden under the massive hill is the Scotia Chalk Mine. Hidden also in the old hill's history are legends of Indian raids and pioneer bastions. Not-so-hidden is a fantastic view from atop the area's highest hill, Happy Jack Hill.

To reach the State Wayside Area, drive north on Nebraska Highway 11, 6 miles from Cotesfield. A side road is tucked away on the left side of the highway. A 45 mile-an-hour speed limit sign is its only marker. A tiny parking lot nestles at the hill's foot. Developed by the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, the attraction boasts picnic tables, drinking water, and restrooms.

Early settlers are reputed to have used Happy Jack Hill as a lookout point, a kind of advance-warning system for spotting marauding Indians. Legend has it that the hill was named for Jack Swearengen who lived alone on those bluffs overlooking the Loup River.

Early settlers in Scotia used chalk for foundations, but such use became impractical when the farmyard pig populations began eating them. In 1878, a store in Scotia v/as built from chalk. Then in the 1890's commercial mining began in earnest. Dynamite blasted the mineral from its 7-foot vein. In 1902, Edmund Van Horn was killed in a cavein. His son, Ernest, operated the mine for a time. He tried unsuccessfully to APRIL 1970 make bricks from the chalk before he closed the business.

In the early 1930's, an Omaha paint products firm reopened the mine and used the chalk in manufactures. Although nearly 80 uses were found for the chalk, the mine closed shortly there-after, when it was found that materials could be shipped in more cheaply from England.

Now the cave is an interesting maze of dark tunnels haunted by pioneers and miners.

Anyone entering the mine should be sure to carry a flashlight. A hard hat is good protection from the low ceilings. Duck low and watch carefully for lowering ceiling levels. If entered carefully and sensibly, the cave is perfectly safe.

Railroad half-ties make a crude stairway from the mine to the peak's summit. The view from there is a broad vista including the swift Loup River. Trees turn from the green lace of budded limbs to verdant growth to the torch of fall. A majestic purple of more distant hills flows through the fabric of Happy Jack's view.

Like the pioneers who kept watch from Happy Jack Hill and found so many uses for chalk, eastern Nebraska settlers left their mark on the state. The Louis E. May Historical Museum in Fremont is just one example of that mark.

The huge old mansion was the residence of one of Fremont's founding fathers, Theron Nye. Behind the big Georgian columns is the gracious past preserved in brocades and oak. The house is not a restoration, it's a museum. Although some rooms have been restored to 19th Century decor, many of the old rooms are display areas for extensive collections of memorabilia.

Among the historical objects is a grasshopper warrant, the only known one in existence in the United States. Such warrants were once somewhat like draft calls. They called all able-bodied men to a designated place at a certain time to fight the grasshopper plague.

One spacious second-story room houses an extensive collection of antique dolls. From a prize-winning "Plain Jane" to a fanciful French doll dressed in period costume, they seem to await the laughter of playmates of old.

In a room resplendent with masculine pride, heavy trophy cases display the prizes of many years' hunting success. Heavy oaken beams crisscross the ceiling and dark wooden hounds' heads of the same material guard the walls, prepared to grasp the lanterns intended for their mouths.

The old mansion is packed with memorabilia, attractively restored and displayed. Nineteenth Century clothing, cookwares, and furnishings fill the many rooms of the house. Closets, too, have been turned into display areas.

Sewing machines and dressmaker's dummies were a little different than today. The museum traces their evolution in one of its upstairs rooms.

The basement is being converted into an old-time general store filled with goods no longer found in any but antique shops. Mason jars, cracker barrels, and crockery will be part of that area. History in Nebraska is preserved from border to border be it a chalk mine or a museum. THE END

55

Roundup and What to do

National meet kicks off an action-packed month full of grapplers and gobblers

APRIL ACTIVITIES come on strong beginning with the National AAU Wrestling Championships. Over 150 matmen from across the nation, as well as several foreign participants, won't be fooling as they grapple for top honors at the University of Nebraska Coliseum on April 16 through 18. This year's action will mark the fourth time in five years that Lincoln has hosted this prestigious Amateur Athletic Union event. Everyone will enjoy the strength, timing, and skill of these top wrestlers.

Making sure the wrestlers watch their p's and q's is NEBRASKAland's Hostess of the Month, Ardith Huenink. Majoring in human development and elementary education, Ardith is a junior at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln. A member of the University 4-H Club, she also belongs to the American Home Economics Association. She is the 1969 Nebraska Dairy Princess.

The daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Merle Huenink of Hickman, Ardith graduated from George W. Norris High, there. She spends her summers working with underprivileged families. Her pastimes include sewing and reading, swimming, singing, and walking.

Another favorite Nebraska pastime, rodeo, enters the activity scene on April 16 through 18. The annual University Rodeo, sponsored by the University of Nebraska's Rodeo Association, carries on Nebraska's rodeo traditions begun 88 APRIL 1970 years ago by Buffalo Bill Cody. College cowboys from throughout the Midwest will compete in bronc-riding, steer-wrestling, and other dust-raising daredevil rodeo events. Cowgirls get in on the action, too, with events just for them. Points won at this rodeo can help qualify a student cowboy for the National Inter-collegiate Rodeo Association Finals this summer.

Important to cowboys, horses continue to play roles in the work of Nebraskans, as well as in their entertainment. Horse shows combine both aspects. The Quarter and Paint Revue at Falls City on April 18, sponsored by the Southeast Nebraska Quarterhorse Association, will prove that these talented animals have good looks in addition to their utility. Horses also provide the entertainment at Fonner Park in Grand Island. The thoroughbreds will be running there until April 29.

Few thoroughbreds will be ridden on the Maywood Trail Ride, but this famous event, perhaps the largest trail ride in the world, annually attracts over 1,000 horses and their riders. Since 1959, cowpokes from Nebraska and surrounding states have converged on Maywood on the last Sunday in April to relive for a day the glory and romance of the Old West.

History also plays a role in an annual celebration at Valentine. On April 26, festivities, including a kiddies' carnival, contests, races, and a dance, will remember the day in 1884 when the railroad bridge was completed over the Niobrara River.

A yearlong celebration is taking place at York. This eastern Nebraska community had its beginnings 100 years ago, and the York Area Centennial Ball on April 13, featuring Guy Lombardo and his orchestra, will honor that occasion.

Music plays a key role in many other NEBRASKAland April happenings. Flashing ice skates dance to a variety of beats and rhythms when the Shipstads and Johnson's Ice Follies glide into Omaha on April 7 through 12. Music also plays a supporting role in the circus. Dramatic chords increase the tension as a high-wire artist balances precariously, while light melodies add color to the antics of the clowns. Circus buffs will enjoy the Shrine Circus, coming to Lincoln on April 27 and lasting until May 2.

Music for its own sake can be enjoyed in several concerts during the month. On April 7, the Abbiss and Crofut Folk Singers will be in Lincoln, and on April 15, the Paul Winter Contemporary Consort give out their special sound at Seward. The Lincoln Symphony Orchestra will present a concert on April 14. Putting on their annual Spring Show will be the University of Nebraska's Kosmet Klub. The musical will be presented April 17 and 18. The Stuart American Legion also puts on an annual musical. For 10 years now the Legionnaires have entertained with their homegrown talent. This year's show on April 5 features a musical tour of the United States.

Other indoor April activities include the Nebraska State Rock and Mineral Show. The rock hounds and their loot will be hosted by the Fort Kearney Rock Club. Cushing Coliseum in Kearney is the setting for all of their gems. Scientific doings of another sort will be at the Greater Nebraska Science Fair. High school students from the eastern half of the state will enter their projects in competition for awards that include a cruise, cash, encyclopedias, and a trip to the International Science Fair.

On the outdoor scene, hunting action gets a boost with the spring turkey season. Gobblers will be fair game on April 18 through 27, while cottontails provide sport all month long. Fishing activity picks up, too. Besides the challenge of hook-and-line angling, game fish may be taken by bow and arrow beginning April 1. Snagging is permitted on the Missouri River until April 30.

Sportsmen will also enjoy the color and excitement of dog trials. Three licensed trials at the Game and Parks Commission's Dog Trial Area at Branched Oak Lake will test seasoned canines as well as young dogs out for their first taste of official competition. The Husker Bird Dog Club's 44th Semi-Annual Field Trial will be run on April 4 and 5. On the 11th and 12th, the German Shorthaired Pointer Club of Lincoln will take to the grounds, and the Nebraska Dog and Hunt Club will hold its trial on April 17 through 19.

Everyone will want to take to the out-of-doors on Nebraska's special holiday, Arbor Day. April 22 will again find families planting trees as they have since the institution of Arbor Day 85 years ago.

April showers will bring May flowers, but Nebraskans already have a delightful bouquet of spring-time activities.

What to do 3-5 —Nebraska State Rock and Mineral Show, Kearney 4-5 —Husker Bird Dog Club Licensed Trial, Raymond 5 —Tenth Annual American Legion Musical Show, Stuart 7 —Abbiss and Crofut Folk Singers, Lincoln 7-12 —Shipstads and Johnson's Ice Follies, Omaha 11-12 —German Shorthaired Pointer Club Licensed Trial, Raymond 11-12 —Greater Nebraska Science Fair, Nebraska City 13 —Centennial Ball, York 14 —Lincoln Symphony Orchestra Concert, Lincoln 15 —Paul Winter Contemporary Consort Concert, Seward 16-18 —University of Nebraska Rodeo Association Rodeo, Lincoln 16-18-National AAU Wrestling Championships, Lincoln 17-18 —University of Nebraska Kosmet Klub Spring Show, Lincoln 17-19-Nebraska Dog and Hunt Club Licensed Trial, Raymond 18 —Quarter and Paint Revue, Falls City 26-1884 Days, Valentine 26 — Maywood Trail Ride, Maywood 27-May 2-Shrine Circus, Lincoln THE END 57

APRIL IS FDR MASTER ANGLERS

APRIL MASTER ANGLERS SPECIES WHERE CAUGHT SIZE TYPE OF BAIT NAME AND ADDRESS BLUEGILL Pelican Lake 1 lb, 14 ozs. Tear drop, waxworm Edward Brandl—Creighton Frye Lake 1 lb. 1 02. Beetle Floyd F. Carr—Whitman BROOK TROUT Lake McConaughy 2 lbs. 2 ozs. Rooster tail Monte Samuel son—Lemoyne BROWN TROUT Snake River 4 lbs. 2 ozs. Spinner/worms Denny Doolittle—Valentine Snake River 5 lbs. 5 ozs Spinner/worms Denny Doolittle—Valentine Niobrara River 4 lbs. 3 ozs. Worms Wilma Dotson—Hay Springs Dismal River 4 lbs. 11 ozs. Worms John Golden—Dunning Snake River 5 lbs. 0 ozs Nightcrawler Bruce Johnson—Big Springs Lake McConaughy 4 lbs. 4 ozs. Natural Thin Fin Jim Lindsey—Aurora, Colorado Snake River 4 lbs. 0 ozs. Worm Harold L. McGuire—Johnstown Snake River 4 lbs. 8 ozs. Nightcrawler Harold E. Nott—Fremont Snake River 5 lbs. 14 ozs. Yellow dollfly Dexter N. Nygaard—Omaha Snake River 4 lbs. 8 ozs. Worm Rev. Ralph Ritzen—Fremont Kimball Dam 4 lbs. 10 ozs. Spinner Larry L. Stahla—Kimball Snake River 4 lbs. 13 ozs. Nightcrawler Ivan Roth—Valentine Snake River 4 lbs. 0 ozs. Worms/spinner Cork Thornton—Valentine Box Butte Reservoir 4 lbs. 0 ozs. Flatfish Rod Van Velson—Alliance BUFFALO farm pond 26 lbs. 8 ozs. Spinner Kenneth C. Lippold—Stella BULLHEAD South Platte River 2lbs. 2 ozs. Worms Dick Krajewski—Ogallala farm pond (Nemaha Co.) 2 lbs. 1oz. Nightcrawler Ralph Lampe—Auburn CHANNEL CATFISH Lake McConaughy 18 lbs. 8 oz. Minnow Bill G. Moore—Ogallala CRAPPIE sandpit (Merrick Co.) 2 lbs. 2 ozs. Minnow Lee 0. Rupp—Monroe Lake Welcott 2 lbs. 2 ozs. Minnow Joel L. Schroeder—Spencer DRUM Platte River 7 lbs. 11 ozs. Worms Ronnie Meyer—Lexington GOLDEYE sandpit (Dawson Co.) 1 lb. 9 ozs. Sonar Ronnie Meyer—Lexington LARGEMOUTH BASS Niobrara River 5 lbs. 1 ozs. Spoon, pork rind Max Bohn—O'Neill Hugh Butler Lake 5 lbs. 0 ozs Spoon, pork rind Kenneth Coleman—McCook farm pond 6 lbs. 7 ozs. Plastic worm Brad Conner—Ogallala Pelican Lake 5 lbs. 9 ozs. Silver minnow Andy Collins—North Platte Hugh Butler Lake 5 lbs. 3 ozs. Rex Spoon Gayle D. Farwell—McCook Hugh Butler Lake 5 lbs. 4 ozs. Arbo-Gaster Tim George—North Platte farm pond (Holt Co.) 6 lbs. 0 ozs. Red/white spoon Danny Koenig—Ewing farm pond (Richardson County) 7 lbs. 8 ozs. Mepps spinner Kenneth C. Lippold—Stella Minden interchange pits 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Thin fin Kenneth Londer—Kearney Burchard Lake 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Purple Gloworm David Loos—Lincoln Burchard Lake 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Purple worm Gail McKie—Lincoln private lake (Chase Co.) 6 lbs. 12 ozs. Worms Lyle Ohrmund—Imperial sandpit (Cass Co.) 8 lbs. 6 ozs. Cisco Kid Ray J. Rhoades—Omaha farm pond (Dawes Co.) 6 lbs. 8 ozs. Rapala Chris Ray—Chadron Burchard Lake 6 lbs.6 ozs. Purple Gloworm Chuck Roberts—Lincoln Burchard Lake 5 lbs. 3 ozs. Purple Gloworm Chuck Roberts—Lincoln Bluestem Lake 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Silver minnow Robert E. Schriner—Lincoln sand pit (Garfield Co.) 6 lbs. 8 ozs. Mepps spinner Gerald Seaman—Bunwell farm pond (Holt Co.) 6 lbs. 0 ozs. Mepps spinner Ron Smith—O'Neill farm pond (Holt Co.) 5 lbs. 3 ozs. Shyster Russell Thomas—O'Neill sandpit 5 lbs. 2 ozs. Crawdad Don Temoshek—Kearney Burchard Lake 6 lbs. 8 ozs. Chub L. A. Van Laningham—Clatonia Niobrara State Park 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Purple worm Ted Voet—Omaha Niobrara State Park 7 lbs. 4 ozs. Purple worm Ted Voet—Omaha MUSKELLUNGE Merritt Dam 18 lbs. 4 ozs. Worm Kenneth Cook—Norfolk NORTHERN PIKE Pelican Lake 10 lbs. 3 ozs. Spinner Richard L. Bailar—North Platte Hugh Butler Lake 14 lbs. 8 ozs. Bluegill meat L. M. Black—Rexford, Kansas Hugh Butler Lake 15 lbs. 6 ozs. Burk's soft plug Jim Brady—Imperial Lake McConaughy 13 lbs. 8 ozs. Worm Albert Brandf—Lodgepole Lake McConaughy 24 lbs. 9 ozs. Salmon eggs Glen Brown—Ogallala Hugh Butler Lake 10 lbs. 12 ozs. Small shad Larry L. Decker—McCook Whitney Lake 15 lbs. 8 ozs. Chub Roy Doyle—Crawford Hugh Butler Lake 10 lbs. 12 ozs. Minnow Mrs. Herb Gray—Cambridge Johnson Lake inlet 14 lbs. 4 ozs. Dollfly Dennis McKay—Kearney Watts Lake 12 lbs. 4 ozs. Hot rod Mark Morgan—North Platte Lake Maloney inlet 12 lbs. 8 ozs. White dollfly Dennis Ogborn—North Platte Lake Maloney inlet 10 lbs. 8 ozs. Tiny mite Terry H. Richardson—North Platte Lake Maloney inlet 10 lbs. 4 ozs. Tiny mite Terry H. Richardson—North Platte Watts Lake 13 lbs 12 ozs. Jackrabbit meat Mrs. Ed Rodewaid—Seneca Welifleet Special Use area 14 lbs. 11 ozs. Worms John Schulz—Lincoln Hugh Butler Lake 12 lbs. 12 ozs. Nightcrawlers Earl Tally—Oberlin, Kansas Pelican Lake 12 lbs. 22 ozs. Spinner Dale Wagner—North Platte Lake Maloney inlet 18 lbs. 14 ozs. White/yellow Dollfly Paul Zarkowski—North Platte PERCH Sutherland outlet 1 lb. 2 ozs. Small minnow Goldie Lum—North Platte Dewey Lake 1 lb. 14 ozs. Dollfly, waxworm Cork Thornton—Valentine RAINBOW TROUT Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 5 ozs Nightcrawlers Chuck Adams—Imperial Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 7 ozs. Salmon eggs Corwin Arndt—Oshkosh Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 5 ozs Marshmallow Rick L. Baack—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 3 ozs. Spoon Bob Batt—Ogallala Pumpkin Creek 6 lbs. 0 ozs. Kastmaster Gene Bateman—Bridgeport Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 0 ozs Fluorescent shyster Richard R. Bell—Imperial Box Butte Reservoir 5 lbs. 1 ozs. Red/white spoon Dennis Blankenbecker—Alliance Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 9 ozs. Super-Duper Marvin Boeson—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 8 ozs. Minnow Ed Bowans—Goodland, Kansas

THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM

(Continued from page 53)

circuit. He and other riders at Fonner enjoy fame at tracks throughout the state and nation.

Highlighting the Fonner Park meet is the Nebraska Derby, this year in its fourth running. Scheduled for April 18, the G^-furlong race for 3-year-olds features a $5,000 added purse. Other big stakes and feature races include the Fonner Mile Handicap, $6,000 added, for 3-year-olds and up and the Fonner Park Special Stakes, $4,000 added, for Nebraska-bred 3-year-olds.

Horsemen and jockeys are not the only ones benefitting from racing at Fonner Park. By state law, all horse racing in Nebraska must be conducted by nonprofit organizations, and proceeds can be used only for improvement of track facilities or for some civic project such as promotion of agriculture or education. Hall County and Grand Island have been the big winners as a result of racing at Fonner Park. Operated by the Hall County Livestock Improvement Association, the track annually donates its facilities as the site of the Hall County Fair.

Another bonus for the community is felt in the pocketbook, as the thousands of fans, trainers, jockeys, and all the rest that follow the sport pump their dollars into the area's economy. A sizable majority of the approximately 140,000 fans that attend the meet are not residents of Hall County, and their dollars are a welcome shot in the arm each year.

Though some residents expressed reservations when the plan to build a race track was introduced, horse racing and Fonner Park are now firmly established as valuable and constructive partners in the community. The handful of local backers that provided the original capital and the directors that guided it over the years saw to that.

Men like the late Gus Fonner, a long-time Hall County resident and an avowed horseman, helped to give horse racing its start as one of the original in- vestors. Gus Fonner, along with other sports-minded businessmen, provided the dream that got racing started in Grand Island.

Now thousands of Nebraska fans enjoy quality racing while chilly winds blow, many days of sport they would miss without Fonner Park. When the silks flash in the breeze and the hooves thunder across the turf, they pay tribute to Gus Fonner and his friends, "oldtimers" who dreamed of the impossible. THE END

MASTER ANGLER PIKE

(Continued from page 15)

the dark shadow didn't miss. The fish seemed to be in a hurry to reach the other side of the inlet as he ripped off 35 yards of line. In order to turn him, Terry raised his rod tip and the fish reacted by heading to the right and diving for the bottom. With a fish this big, he NEBRASKAland would need someone to handle his net, so he waved at an onlooker for help.

The fish dove and powered his way through a series of runs. The fisherman snubbed each attempt and slowly gained back the line. Soon there was a glimpse of greenish gold just a few feet from shore. In a flurry of spray the angler edged the fish into the waiting net.

For Terry, a quest for perch had turned into a 10-pound, 4-ounce Master Angler northern pike. Catching a fish that big would send most men scurrying for the nearest scale, but the fisherman wanted to give the spot a couple more casts.

As he made one cast after another he kept thinking about the dark flash in the water, the ensuing fight, and the anxiety of netting his first Master Angler fish. In fact, it wasn't until he felt a sharp jolt and heard line sizzling off his reel that he realized that he had another lunker on his hands. His grip tightened on the rod as he tried to stop the rush. When the spray had cleared, Terry's wrist ached and his heart was in his throat.

This northern went 10 pounds, 8 ounces, and Terry earned his second Master Angler Award of the day. With two lunkers, he decided to have his catch verified so he packed up his gear. Shortly after he left, another angler stepped up to his spot and banked another award-winning northern.

Although Terry often wonders if that third fish would have taken his lure, he is satisfied with that day in April when he caught two lunker pike instead of perch. THE END

MASTER ANGLER TROUT

(Continued from page 15)

of spring. But what really kept the angler on the river and out of his car was the sobering thought that this was probably his last fishing trip in complete solitude. With spring, multitudes of anglers migrate to the streams and shores of Nebraska's fishing waters. For Denny, trout fishing and lots of people just don't go together.

As he walked upriver toward another hole, his mind wandered back to a day in February when he was fishing this stretch of river. It was cold, windy, and snowing when he arrived at the Snake River. That day the action was as furious as the storm raging above him as he stood in the deep, wind-protected river canyon. He netted a limit of trout with an average weight of 2 1/2 pounds.

Even though the fish-rich Valentine Refuge lakes are close at hand, Denny seldom takes advantage of them. He prefers trout fishing, and has made a study of big browns and rainbows in the Snake and some of the smaller streams in the area. Now as he walked along the river, this experience was about to pay off. He had watched trout flash in the bottom of the pool he was heading for, but he had yet to pull one out of the spot. He figured that they probably sensed his presence.

APRIL MASTER ANGLERS SPECIES WHERE CAUGHT SIZE TYPE OF BAIT NAME AND ADDRESS RAINBOW TROUT Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 4 ozs. Minnow Albert Brandl—Lodgepole Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Holland spoon Lynn M. Briggs—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Green Shyster Terry K. Buchanan—Lincoln Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 8 ozs. Shyster M. R. Buchtel—North Platte Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 10 ozs. Thin Fin Charles J. Burke—Lincoln Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 8 ozs. Minnow Ray Cannon—Minden Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 3 ozs. Marshmallow R. M. Christensen—Weatherford, Texas Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 11 ozs. Worm Earl R. Cole—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 1 ozs. Thin Fin Dale H. Cooper—Grand Island Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 14 ozs. Fluorescent spoon Robert C. DeVoe—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 14 ozs. Thin Fin Robert Lloyd Douglas-—Aurora, Colorado Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 4 ozs. Krocodile Ruben J. Duran—Arvada, Colorado Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 8 ozs. Marshmallow Calvin J. Ebert—St. Louis, Missouri Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 11 ozs. Salmon eggs Roy Evans—Madrid Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 0 ozs. Worms Mrs. William Fisbeck—Holyoke, Colorado Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 1 oz. Rapala Don Floro—Wauneta Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 6 ozs. Salmon eggs Neldon T. Fuller—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Salmon eggs Eldon D. Gager—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Cheesemallow Francis H. Gillen—McCook Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 8 ozs. Salmon eggs Donald Gooldy—Denver, Colorado Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Thin Fin Howard Hazen—Lemoyne Pumpkin Creek 5 lbs. 8 ozs. Daredevil Rob Hams—Bridgeport Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 0 ozs. Marshmallow Gertrude Hillyer—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 0 ozs. Minnow Charlie Bell—Minden Hugh Butler Lake 6 lbs. 12 ozs. Worms Leroy Hines—Alliance Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Silver spoon Rodney Tonniges—Kearney Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 5 ozs. Yellow dollfly Arthur C. Home—North Platte Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 0 ozs. Salmon eggs Paul E. Jackson—Omaha Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 9 ozs. Marshmallow Paul E. Jackson—Omaha Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Mepps spinner Francis M. Jacobsen—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 0 ozs. Minnows Dennis E. Jenson—North Platte Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 1 oz. Minnows Kenneth M. Jenson—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 2 ozs. Minnows Kenneth M. Jenson—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 7 lbs. 15 ozs. Minnows Kenneth M. Jenson—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 0 ozs. Trout eggs Gary Kaufman—Minatare Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 1 oz. Salmon eggs John Jimenez—Big Springs Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 0 ozs. Worms Terry Kitt—Wauneta Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 4 ozs. Nightcrawler Glenn C. Koch—North Platte Pumpkin Creek 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Trout eggs Russell Krieger—North Platte Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 8 ozs. Thin Fin Mrs. Al Kulwicki—Loup City Lake McConaughy 7 lbs. 0 ozs. Red firefly Robert L. Meter—Bismarck, North Dakota Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 10 ozs. Red spoon C. Kendall Meyer—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 1 ozs. Salmon eggs Ed Moore—Ogallala Niobrara River 5 lbs. 2 ozs. Worms Tim Morava—Marsland Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 9 ozs. Cheesemallow Bradley D. Nowak—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 9 ozs. Cheesemallow Bradley D. Nowak—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 7 ozs. Cheese Jack M. Paugh—Hebron Red Willow stream 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Worms Richard Penney—Lincoln Snake River 5 lbs. 2 ozs. Trout eggs Donald W. Philpott—Hay Springs Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 8 ozs. White dollfly Don Potts—Grant Lake McConaughy 7 lbs. 2 ozs Worm George F. Richter—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 15 ozs. Silver flatfish Leland Rodwald—Seneca Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 0 ozs. Cheesemallow Robert S. Hillyer—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 9 ozs. Cheesemallow Mrs. W. H. Schiermeyer—Holyoke, Colo. Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Cheesemallow Mrs. W. H. Schiermeyer—Holyoke, Colo. Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 0 ozs. Salmon eggs Kenneth Sherrill—Commerce City, Colo. Merrit Dam 6 lbs. 8 ozs. Trout eggs Mrs. Dan Taylor—Norfolk Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 9 ozs. Marshmallow Don C. Thompson—Bellevue Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 3 ozs. Sonar Eugene Turner—Cozad Lake McConaughy 10 lbs. 12 ozs. Hidden Sonar Eugene Turner—Cozad Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 2 ozs. Spoon Gayle R. Verbeck—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 11 ozs. Spoon Gayle R. Verbeck—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 12 ozs. Spinner Gayle R. Verbeck—Ogallala Lake McConaughy 5 lbs. 1 oz. Worms Otto Weigel Jr.—McCook Lake McConaughy 6 lbs. 4 ozs. Minnows Bill Whitaker—Kimball SMALLMOUTH BASS Lake McConaughy 3 lbs. 1 ozs. Mepps spinner Kenneth Arthurs—Denver, Colorado Hugh Butler Lake 3 lbs. 2 ozs. Black Tiny Tot Jimmie J3ruening—McCook Hugh Butler Lake 3 lbs. 4 ozs. Orange Peco Perch Jim A. Clayton—McCook Hugh Butler Lake 3 lbs. 3 ozs. Wiggle Jig Ike Murray Dugger Jr.—McCook Hugh Butler Lake 3 lbs. 14 ozs. Spoon Ivan Koch—North Platte Hugh Butler Lake 3 lbs. 3 ozs. Leland Sterr—McCook Hugh Butler Lake 3 lbs. 8 ozs. Arbo-Gaster Harry Waltemath—North Platte SUCKER Lake Minatare 2 lbs. 6 ozs. Worm Larry D. Martin—Seottsbluff WALLEYE Harlan County Reservoir 9 lbs. 4 ozs. Rapala Pete Barthman—Omaha Harry Strunk Lake 11 lbs. 12 ozs. White/red dollfly C. L. Benzing—McCook Tri-County Canal 8 lbs. 4 ozs. Dollfly Bill Fattig—Stuart Missouri River 9 lbs. 4 ozs. Minnow (chub) Lowell Johnson—Wayne Lake Maloney 9 lbs. 8 ozs. Minnow Floyd Lucas—Arnold Harry Strunk Lake 9 lbs. 10 ozs. Yellow-jig Robert J. Miller—Grand Island Johnson Lake 9 lbs. 1 ozs. Thin Fin John F. Mitchell—Omaha Harlan Reservoir 12 lbs. 2 ozs. Rapala Mrs. Len Schnell—Hastings Harry Strunk Lake 8 lbs. 4 ozs. Peco Perch Gareld Sisson—Greeley, Colorado Tri-County Canal 8 lbs. 2 ozs. Black/white Shyster Herb Sivits—North Platte Harry Strunk Lake 9 lbs. 8 ozs. White dollfly Corvin Stark—Holbrook Harlan Reservoir 13 lbs. 6 ozs. Rapala Glen W. Swanson—Omaha Dawson County Channel 9 lbs. 12 ozs. Thin Fin Tommy Turner—Cozad Harry Strunk Lake 10 lbs. 14 ozs. Dollfly Jack Wiese—Grand Island Johnson Lake 8 lbs. 8 ozs. Sonar Lowell Zetterman—Lexington WHITE BASS Lake McConaughy 3 lbs. 2 ozs. White dollfly G. L. McGuire—Edgemont, South Dakota Lake Minatare 3 lbs. 3 ozs. Lure Karroll James Williams—Seottsbluff

NEBRASKAland CAMPFIRE BAKER

Easily learned techniques—some rough and ready, others sophisticated—make outdoor cooking simple

BAKERY BREADSTUFFS on a camp-out seem as out of place as a buck deer in a bedroom closet. Yet, it is common knowledge among campfire cooks that anything you can bake at home you can bake with a campfire. Various easily learned techniques, some rough and ready and others more sophisticated, will keep a hungry crew well fed no matter how far from home the group may be. There is a certain satisfaction in blowing a few flakes of ash from a spiral of biscuit baked on a stick, or in drawing a delicately browned loaf of frying-pan bread from an open fire. Such primitive methods may well be the last stronghold of home-baked bread as our society knows it.

The requirements of outdoor baking are: something to bake, a suitable oven or oven substitute, and the proper fire or coal bed to do the job. Here is a homemade mix that will perform as well as any from the supermarket, and because it lends itself to many variations, it will produce as many different breadstuffs as the average camper will care to bake.

BASIC BISCUIT MIX: 1 cup flour 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/4 teaspoon salt 3 tablespoons oleo or other shortening 2 tablespoons milk powder Sift all the dry ingredients together two or three times until they are well mixed. Melt the shortening, add it to APRIL 1970 the dry ingredients, and stir until the mix has a uniform mealy appearance. Pack in a stout plastic bag for carrying afield.

This mix will keep for about six weeks without turning rancid if it is kept reasonably cool. As given, the recipe provides plenty of bread for one man and is sufficient for two when the main dinner course is a hearty one. If you are camping with a crowd, just multiply the recipe as many times as necessary.

As with any biscuit mix employing baking powder, over handling results in a hard, tough product not even the cook can eat. Work quickly and stir only enough water into the mix to form a rather stiff dough. With as little handling as possible, work it into a long, narrow ribbon about half an inch thick. Wrap the ribbon around the preheated stick and fasten the ends by pinching them into the adjoining dough. Rotate the spiral close to the coals to crust it slightly, then back it off a few inches to bake until the bread is done.

An easier and more conventional baking method is to pat the dough into a flat sheet about half an inch thick, then cut it into two-inch squares. Place these on a sheet of aluminum foil and wrap them very loosely. Form a damped coal bed by mixing about 50 percent dead ashes into the live coals to lower their heat. Make a cavity in this, lay in the foil packet, and sprinkle some coals on top. Do not bury the packet completely! Ten or twelve minutes should see the biscuits done. If it bums or remains doughy, use more or fewer coals as the case requires on your next try.

You can fabricate a makeshift oven far superior to the fragile foil type from two skillets or aluminum plates of matching size. The dough can be formed into individual biscuits or patted out into a flat sheet for frying-pan bread. Place it in one of the pans and invert the second pan over it. Bury the package in a damped heat bed. Again, baking time is 10 or 12 minutes.

The classic dutch oven is a favorite utensil with a legion of campfire cooks. It is a heavy cast iron or cast aluminum pot with a matching lid, and is definitely not a go-light item. At fixed camps, on canoe trips, or in mobile situations where weight and bulk are of little consequence, it cannot be surpassed.

To use it, scrape a thin layer of undamped coals from the fire and set the oven on them. Put a shovelful of coals on the lid and let the utensil preheat while you mix your biscuits. Place them in a pan that will fit inside the oven. Lift the cover with a wire hook and drop in a half dozen uniform-size stones. The rocks elevate your biscuit pan off the bottom of the oven and reduce the chance of burning the bread.

The most aesthetic campfire baker is the reflector oven. Lightweight and occupying little packing space, it is adaptable to both fixed and moving camps. Using such a reflector requires attention since the leaping flame of the fire, instead of a coal bed provides cooking heat.

It is easy to make drop biscuits for the reflector without using extra dishes. Just mix them "off the top of the sack". Open the bag of mix and make a depression in the dry material. Pour a tablespoon of water into the hollow and immediately stir with a fork or a small wooden blade. In seconds a ball of soft dough forms, leaving the rest of the mix unaffected. Plop the ball on the solid center shelf of the reflector and repeat the process for as many more biscuits as you need.

As mentioned earlier, the basic mix converts into a number of other breadstuffs, all guaranteed to please your dining partners.

COFFEE CAKE, for instance. To the basic mix, stir in one egg, a handful of raisins, and two tablespoons of sugar. Turn the dough into a greased and floured pan. It will bake best in a dutch or reflector oven, though it can be done in a damped coal bed with another pan inverted over the cake.

61   ILLIAN'S ISLAND ALL FISHING SUPPLIES AND EQUIPMENT • GAS ICE • YOUR FAVORITE BEVERAGES CALL 799-2705

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IN REPUBLICAN CITY 10-pc. Tuckaway SURVIVAL KIT Only $2.00 POSTPAID Contains 10 items for protection and comfort in rain, cold, sickness, accidents: large orange poncho and hood, water storage bag, water purification tablets, razor blade, band aids, aspirin, matches, fire starter, survival and first aid booklet, signal mirror. Tucks handily into pocket, tackle box, glove compartment. Essential tor hunters, fishermen, motorists, campers, pilots. Send only $2.00 in cash, check or money order to: ANDREWS ENTERPRISES, P.O. Box 27074, Omaha, Nebraska 68127 Satisfaction Guaranteed or Your Money Back! BOYS & GIRLS Ages 8-15 We are now taking reservations for the summer months. Write for information. RINGENBERG GUEST RANCH Don and Ellen Ringenberg, prop. Elwood, Nebraska NEBRASKAland Information Station

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Wester's Holdiay Motel Welcom

POW WOW ROOM for Parties — Conventions — Sales Meetings Banquets — Receptions HWYS. 183 & 383 ALMA, NEBR. 68920

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All Types' LIVE BAIT OPEN-24-HRS. MAY 1ST TO SEPT. 1ST South Side Co-op 8501 West "0" Street (Emerald) 435-1611 Lincoln, Nebr. 68502

CORN BREAD: Add a cup of corn meal, an egg, a tablespoon of sugar, and two tablespoons of milk powder. Use enough water to form a heavy batter. The meal will absorb the extra water. Don't over mix. Just blend it all and dump it into the pan.

SHORTCAKE: Add two tablespoons of sugar and two or more of milk powder. Use enough water to make rolling-pin dough. Turn it out on the floured bottom of the canoe or on a dough cloth, and roll to half an inch thickness. Dot with butter and fold in half to bake on the long shelf of the reflector. Have fresh blueberries, or strawberries ready.

FLAPJACKS: Add 2 tablespoons of milk powder and one egg. Stir in half a cup of water and bake as usual for flapjacks.

FRUIT COBBLER: Make a shortcake dough as above. Put the fruit in the bottom of the baking pan and cover it with a single layer of dough. Bake in dutch oven until crusty brown.

While this article may appear oriented to wilderness campers, there is nothing to prevent those with trailers, propane stoves, and storebought ovens from making use of the mix and its variations. Once the use of it is mastered, anyone can expand into the realm of real pies and cakes in the camp environment without any trouble. Just hitch up your belt and make the plunge. THE END

OLD YELLER OR SAM

(Continued from page 47)

during his stay with us, Fritz was well-muscled and lean. But the minute Yeller saw the German shepherd, he was on his guard. The two dogs circled, then stopped. Fritz offered an apparently friendly tail-wag, the dogs sniffed each other, and seemingly satisfied, they disappeared into the cornfield.

We never did find out how badly Fritz was hurt, but Yeller came back sometime later with scratches and a bad cut on his neck. When he stumbled into the yard he found a shady spot under the elm and lay there panting and groaning for a day and a half. The German shepherd never came back, but we soon learned that our neighbor had tied him up.

My sister and I often took Yeller and Snoopy with us when we went bicycling. When we passed our neighbor's yard, Yeller would tease the tied-up Fritz while Snoopy waited uneasily. After tormenting the dog, the two of them would catch up. But one morning Yeller didn't make his usual stop in the neighbor's yard and as I drew closer I saw why. Fritz wasn't tied. When we passed, the big dog growled and charged at our bikes. 'Yeller! Yeller!" I screamed as I tried to pull away from the big, snarling German shepherd.

OUTDOOR CALENDAR HUNTING Turkey-Toms only, April 18 through 27, in designated units. Rabbits-No closed season, statewide. Varments-No closed season, statewide. State special-use areas are open to hunting in season the year-round unless otherwise posted or designated. Hunting permitted in season in state-recreation areas from October 1 to April 1 unless otherwise posted or designated. FISHING All species-Hook and line. Statewide. Season open all year. Archery-Nongame fish only, year-round. Game fish, April 1 through November 30, sunrise to sunset. Hand Spearing-Nongame fish only, year-round, sunrise to sunset. Underwater powered Spearfishing- No closed season on non-game fish. Snagging-Missouri River only. All other waters closed. Season closes April 30. STATE PARKS Fort Kearney State-Interpretive Center open from Historical Park 1 to 4 p.m. Saturday & Sunday. The grounds of all state parks are open to visitors the year around. Official opening of all park facilities is May 15. FOR COMPLETE INFORMATION Consult NEBRASKAland hunting and fishing guides, available from conservation officers, NEBRASKAlanders, permit vendors, tourist welcome stations, country cierks, all Game Commission offices, or by writing the Game Commission, State Capitol, Lincoln, Nebraska 68509.

At my call Yeller turned playfully around. But when he saw Fritz, his mood suddenly changed. He snarled and sprang toward the bigger dog. When I finally had a chance to look around, the German shepherd was on his back with all four legs in the air. Yeller was standing above him with one paw on the dog's chest and growling every so often to let Fritz know who was in command. When my sister and I reached our mailbox, he released the dog and came home. Right after the incident, Yeller would leave for three (Continued on page 64)

62 NEBRASKAland

HOW TO RAISE MEALWORMS

Dynamite for all panfish, these homegrown baits require little in effort or expense to produce

by Allen M. Sicks

BEING AN ARDENT fisherman, I am always interested in that important ingredient for catching fish-the right bait. So, I decided to start raising one of my favorites, mealworms. This particular bait is great for perch, crappie, and bluegill, and although used mostly in the winter, they are fine for yearlong fishing. These little fellows, which are the larvae of the tenebrio beetle, are small yellowish-orange worms about one inch long, and are dynamite for all panfish.

I called Jerry Morris, a biologist for the Research Division of the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, and he invited me over to see how he raises the worms which he uses to feed the fish for his experiments.

"Mealworms are easy and fairly inexpensive to raise. All you need is a container, wheat bran for food, some burlap, and potatoes for moisture. Of course, you have to have adult beetles for starters, he said.

Jerry uses a lot of mealworms, so he raises them in galvanized washtubs, but a two or three-gallon wastebasket is adequate for any fisherman who decides to take up the game. If a washtub is used, a two-inch strip of masking tape should be applied to the entire inner top of the tub, to keep the worms and the adult beetles from crawling out.

Wheat bran, which can be purchased at a feed store for about three cents a pound should be poured into the container until it's half full. Then two layers of burlap should be placed on top of the bran. The larvae tend to congregate between these layers and are easy pickings when you are ready to go fishing, several potatoes, punctured or broken open should be placed on top of the burlap before the adult beetles are added. These beetles can be purchased from a pet shop for about a penny apiece, and about 100 are enough to APRIL 1970 start a thriving community. Fresh potatoes should be added to the container when the old ones become shriveled up.

The beetles will soon produce eggs, which are too small to be seen, but after 8 to 12 weeks there will be an abundant supply of larvae, or mealworms. The larvae will eventually turn into pupas, and after five to seven days will emerge as light-brown beetles. As they grow older the beetles turn coal black. The adults have wings, but don't seem to fly. However, a screen or cloth may be placed over the container for insurance.

Other than adding fresh potatoes every now and then, the occupants can be left unattended for quite some time. About every two or three weeks, fresh bran should be added until the container is full. At the end of four months, the waste materials will have to be removed from the cojony. The feces is an extremely fine granular powder, and can be removed by sifting the contents through an ordinary screen. This should be done outside, since the feces is very caustic, and rubber gloves should be worn to protect the hands. To prevent losing all the eggs during this process, only three-fourths of the contents should be sifted. After this, fill the container with fresh bran, put in the burlap and potatoes, and return the old-timers to their renewed haunt. The waste products are very high in nitrates and can be used to perk up house plants.

Jerry briefed me on some mealworm facts of life. Surrounding temperatures can affect production of the mealworms, so an ideal place is a basement or room that stays about 75°. Direct sunlight is bad.

After getting all this information, I thanked Jerry for his help and went home to set up a colony of my own. Everything went fine and a few weeks ago I was rewarded for my efforts with a nice stringer of perch caught on my homegrown baits. THE END

63

OLD YELLER OR SAM

(Continued from page 62)

or four days, return for a week, then disappear again. By coincidence, we found out where he was going.

One afternoon when Raymond was playing baseball at school, Yeller wandered onto the field. When Raymond came up to bat, he hit a long drive and as he raced around the bases the dog ran beside him.

"How about that dog of mine," a boy named Steve shouted.

"That's not your dog," Raymond replied. "That's my dog Yeller."

"Yeller! Why that's Sam."

"Sam! Now look, I ought to know my dog."

"That's my dog," Steve insisted.

"Well, if he's your dog let's see you call him," Raymond replied.

"All right I will. Come here Sam," Steve called. The dog walked obediently toward Steve.

"He's still my dog," Raymond shouted.

"Okay, you call him."

"Yeller, come here," Raymond demanded. The dog walked toward my brother.

Next, the boys placed the dog between them and called to him at the same time. He looked from one to the other and just sat there as if to say "I'm not anybody's dog."

From then on Yeller divided his time between our farm, where he was Yeller, and Steve's home, where he was always Sam. We all grew accustomed to the arrangement and looked forward to seeing him every fifth or sixth day. About a year later, Yeller stayed away longer than usual. Raymond brought news from Steve that Yeller was dead.

Steve indicated that he had seen Fritz several times near his house. One day both Yeller and Fritz disappeared, and Steve assumed that his dog "Sam" had returned to our farm. Fritz was never seen again, but just a couple of days after that Yeller struggled into Steve's yard. Badly injured and barely able to breathe, he struggled with dignity into the shade of a tree. There he died. To Steve he was Sam, but to us he would always be Old Yeller. THE END

64

MASTER ANGLER BASS

(Continued from page 15)

the back of his mind. If the bass were feeding, they probably had moved in close to shore. The angler made a cast 10 feet out and parallel to the bank. After letting the worm sink, he started a steady retrieve. A sharp tap told him his first cast was a good one, and he reeled in the fish.

"Not bad for the first throw of the season," he thought to himself as he unhooked a 1 1/2-pound largemouth and released him. "It proves they are close to the bank, too."

Ted had a spot near some lily pads, where he had taken several bass. With darkness not far off, he headed for it. Flipping out a worm, he dragged it slowly by the plants. Experience had taught him that bass are leery and often hang back for a couple of casts before striking. By his seventh toss, the Omahan was thinking more about how nice it was to be fishing than the "now" situation.

A slow tug of a fish mouthing his worm brought him back to reality. When he brought the rod back hard, the whole lagoon seemed to turn into one brawling largemouth bass. Line spooled off the reel and his rod bowed to the weight of the lunker. The bass muscled his way to the bottom and then bulled his way to the right and left.

Ted found time to shout for his wife, and out of the corner of his eye he saw her leap out of the car and grab a net. Lorraine wasn't dressed for fishing and he chuckled when she panted up beside him. When the fish rolled to the surface, he saw that it was mounting-size. He glanced at his wife, then scanned the water for dangerous areas where the bass might sever the line. Luckily, there didn't appear to be any snags.

The commotion had drawn a small crowd. Ted played the fish through a series of determined runs, and the spectators cheered every time he turned the bass. To Ted, the bout seemed to be running over the 4-hour mark, but by the clock it was only 10 minutes. The fish spooked at Lorraine's first netting try, but when Ted coaxed the mossback toward the net for the second time his wife neatly scooped the fish up.

"You would have divorced me if I had lost that fish for you," Lorraine laughed as she hefted the 7-pound, 4-ounce bass.

After taking the fish back to the car, Ted headed back for the lake. "Let's head into town and weigh him before he dries out," Lorraine coaxed. But, there was 20 minutes of fishing time left and Ted had the feeling that if this granddad bass was on the prowl, others were, too. It was a cinch that his Master Angler bass had spooked all the fish in the area he had been fishing, so he moved 50 feet farther down shore.

On his third cast, he hooked and briefly fought another small bass before it shook free. A couple of tosses later, his worm just started to drift toward the bottom when an overzealous bass snatched it. The surge of power coming up the line signalled another lunker on the other end. For the second time that evening, Lorraine grabbed the net and ran toward her husband.

The angler leaned back on the rod and let the fish run himself out. An excited smile flashed across his face as he watched the monofilament slice first to the right, then to the left, back to the right, then toward the opposite bank. When the fish was finally ready to call it quits, Ted worked him toward Lorraine and she scooped the 5-pound, 8-ouncer out of the water.

"Are you ready to head into town now?" Lorraine smiled. The sun had already kissed the western hills goodnight, so Ted nodded his head yes. It took Ted 21 years of largemouth bass fishing to catch a Master Angler-size, and when he finally did it, he caught two qualifiers within 45 minutes. But to hear him talkv the long wait was worth it. As a bonus he relives that night every time he looks at the big mounted bass on his den wall. THE END

NEBRASKAland

Outdoor Elsewhere

Sign of the Times. All the frustrations of businessmen suffering from continual street repair were recently summed up on an Arizona marquee: "Our street-repair department could close the Ho Chi Minh Trail." -Arizona

Sportsmen Spoil Sports. The South Carolina Wildlife Resources Department drew extreme criticism for its proposal to create crappie beds and mark their locations for the benefit of fishermen. The complaint was that pinpointing good fishing spots would ruin the "surprise" aspect of the sport. —South Carolina

A Disastrous Problem. The effects of pesticides on wildlife are being studied extensively these days. But, how about this one? Pink bollworms have ruined the Imperial Valley cotton crop in California this year because they have become immune to pesticides. Right now, there is no effective control to check them. — California

Who Says Chivalry Is Dead? With all the talk about chivalry being a thing of the past, here's a story that contradicts that idea. While traveling back to college, a young gal was obliged to change trains. In the station restaurant she ordered a cup of coffee, and just as it arrived, piping hot, the train she was supposed to catch arrived, too.

"Oh, dear," she said. "There's my train and this coffee is so hot, I haven't time to wait and drink it."

At this remark, a gentleman on her left cleared his throat and said, "Pardon me, Miss, but won't you please take mine? It's already saucered and cooled." —New York

Definition Of Junk. Junk has often been defined as something that you throw away one day and then need the next. However, here is a particular throwaway 66 that resulted in almost instantaneous use. While cleaning out his tackle box last summer, an Iowa sportsman discarded a batch of junky old lures. His son dug one of the rusty spoons from the trash barrel, attached it to his line, and on the very first cast caught a 3-pound bass. And, to top it all off, dad went home skunked. —Iowa

Fishing Is Good. Sometimes good luck can turn to bad when you don't watch your legal P's and Q's. Such was the case when an Arizona couple visited their favorite fishing spot. Trout were hitting so fast that the couple kept right on fishing after they had taken their legal limits. They were still busily netting fish when a conservation officer happened along. He found they had taken 34 trout over their combined limits. The officer issued them a ticket and they were later fined $10 for each of the 34 fish. That is good luck turned bad. —Arizona

Firewater. Cleveland Mayor Carl Stokes brought down the house with laughter when he called that city's Cuyahoga River the "only river in the country that has been legally described as a fire hazard." But it was no joke when the Cuyahoga, thick with flowing oil sludge, actually burst into flames, dealing $50,000 worth of damages to two adjacent railroad bridges spanning it, and other streamside property. — Ohio

The Payoff. The California Fish and Game Department has revealed an interesting fact, in that crime does pay — for the state that is. The department collected $65,837 in fines from 2,601 fish-and-game law violators in southern California alone during the last fiscal year. It's apparent that some rather costly lessons are being learned.— California

Eating To The Last Bite. A Pennsylvania homeowner tried to control rabbit damage in his garden by putting a transistor radio tuned to a rock-and-roll station in his vegetable patch. The plan worked fine —that is until the station signed off the air for the night. Then the rabbits moved in and went to work on the garden. And, to add injury to insult, the rabbits ate part of the radio's leather case, as well as part of the radio itself. — Pennsylvania

Dead End. Everything was going just fine on a recent raccoon hunt in upstate New York. Already having treed a pair of raccoons earlier, the dogs were soon raising a ruckus under another tree. The hunters began climbing upward, with their flashlight beams scanning the tree-top. Suddenly, the two climbing hunters came face-to-face with a very bothered bear. Needless to say, even if there was a raccoon somewhere in the tree, he was safe for that night. —New York

Ponca Indians

Warpaint and bloodshed characterized the struggles of American Indians to keep their homelands. However, the Ponca Indians of Nebraska fought their battle for survival in the white man's courtroom. In commemoration of their fight, the Niobrara Community Club erected a State Historical Marker. It overlooks the Niobrara River Valley 1 1/2 miles south of Niobrara on Nebraska Highway 14.

In 1858, the Poncas signed treaties with the U.S. Government that guaranteed them their land. But, in 1868 the government reassigned the Ponca land to the Sioux and forcibly moved the Poncas to a reservation in what is now Oklahoma.

The following year was one of misery for the Poncas. The hard journey south, the change of climate, and the lack of adequate food and shelter claimed over 150 Ponca lives. Early in 1879, Chief Standing Bear and his people left the reservation for Nebraska.

Orders soon came from Washington to have Standing Bear and his tribesmen arrested and returned. General George Crook received the orders. Sympathetic to the Ponca cause, Crook was determined to help them. He enlisted the aid of an editorial writer for the Omaha Herald and two Omaha attorneys. The lawyers drew up a writ of habeas corpus and served it on General Crook. U.S. District Judge Elmer S. Dundy agreed to hear the case.

On April 30, 1879, Judge Dundy's gavel signaled the opening of the case. The government's argument was that an Indian was neither a person nor a citizen within the meaning of the law, and therefore could bring no suit against the government. Standing Bear's primary case was that the Indian is indeed a person within the meaning of the law, and when it can be shown that he is deprived of a liberty, which is a "natural, inherent, and inalienable right", then he is entitled to sue in the federal courts.

Judge Dundy handed down a decision that was a victory for all Indians. The judge maintained in his decision that if the Indian must obey the laws of the land, then he must also be afforded the protection of those laws, and that the term "person" in legal terms was meant to exclude no one, whether citizen or foreigner, Indian or Caucasian. He further held that the habeas corpus suit was valid and that the Poncas were being illegally detained and must be freed.

The Poncas were later awarded land in Nebraska, and money to purchase supplies. The case was closed, but its importance stretched far beyond the limits of that one small tribe.

NEBRASKAland