. The old place is
crumbling away, slowly disappearing with the memories of the past.

[Illustration: _Brown Bros._

The desert after irrigation.]

From Fort Laramie onward into western Nebraska we passed through a
succession of thriving cities. The Platte has been turned to splendid
service through the process of irrigation. Great canals lead its
life-giving waters out to the thirsty plains that now "blossom as the
rose." Rich fields of grain and hay and beets cover the valley. Great
sugar factories, railroads, business blocks, and fine homes tell of the
prosperity that has leaped out of the parched plains we trailed across.

Scott's Bluff, however, is one of the old landmarks that has not
changed. It still looms up as of old on the south side of the river
about eight hundred feet above the trail. The origin of the name,
Scott's Bluff, is not definitely known. Tradition says: "A trapper named
Scott, while returning to the States, was robbed and stripped by the
Indians. He crawled to these Bluffs and there famished. His bones were
afterwards found and buried." These quoted words were written by a
passing emigrant on the spot, June 11, 1852. Another version of the tale
is that Scott fell sick and was abandoned by his traveling companions.
After having crawled almost forty miles, he finally died near the bluff
that bears his name. This occurred prior to 1830.

From the bluff we drove as directly as possible to a historic grave, two
miles out from the town and on the railroad right of way. In this grave
lies a pioneer mother who died August 15, 1852, nearly six weeks after I
had passed over the ground. Some thoughtful friend had marked her grave
by standing a wagon tire upright in it. But for this, the grave, like
thousands and thousands of others, would have passed out of sight and
mind.

The tire bore this simple inscription: "Rebecca Winters, aged 50 years."
The hoofs of stock tramped the sunken grave and trod it into dust, but
the arch of the tire remained to defy the strength of thoughtless hands
that would have removed it.

Finally the railroad surveyors came along. They might have run the track
over the lonely grave but for the thoughtfulness of the man who wielded
the compass. He changed the line, that the resting place of the pioneer
mother should not be disturbed, and the grave was protected and
enclosed.

The railroad officials did more. They telegraphed word of the finding of
this grave to their repre