Glasgow High School - Hootman Yearbook (Glasgow, MT)

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■ ' ' ■ ' i ■■■■■■■■■•■ ' ' father, while a member of General Sully ' s troops, was killed at Fort Rice near Mandan, North Dakota, in 1863. The early visitors to our section knew only the streams and valleys, so did not know of the possibility of farming in the so-called benches lying in the valleys. Following the trappers and the hunters of bu ffalo, were the big cattle out- fits who ranged immense herds of cattle in Northern Montana — then the com- ing of the railroad with its development of small sidings, of which Glasgow was established in I 888 with four tent saloons and one restaurant. It is even reported that as late as the nineties, a herd of antelope actually passed through our tow n. Finally, however, the wilder days, with their picturesque cow men, gave way in turn to the sheepmen; then in the early part of the present century there began to be a vision of the possibilities of our country as a grain producing section. The crop of homesteaders was for a time greater than the crops of grain produced, and some people residing in Glasgow today were among those who predicted that it was a waste of time and effort to try to raise crops and that it would have been better to leave the range for livestock rather than destroy its value in trying to raise crops. Only a few years ago, one could drive from Glasgow in almost any direc- tion and hardly see a house on the prairies, the only settlers were those living along the streams where water could be obtaind for stock. Now, most of Montana, including Valley County and Northeastern Mon- tana, have probably seen the last of the rough old days when men wore six- shooters and chaps were more common than overalls. Today our prairies are covered with homes; our lands are being rapidly broken up, and successful farming is now a reality rathej than a mere hope. There are still many sheep here, which are producing large incomes for those who are engaged in their handling, but the future of our section seems tied up in farming. We may reasonably indulge the hope that many of the little ham- lets reported as being descriptive of our towns today, with good public build- ings, school houses, and constantly increasing population, better schools and social advancement, will lift our state to a place never dreamed of by the so-called old-timers, not excepting from this the noted Washington Irving. Our section of the west has developed with the progress of agriculture, while other sections of Montana owe their prosperity to other causes as well. Mining is still a large industry in the state, with copper and allied products manufactured from raw forms into forms ready for the markets of the world. Oil and gas are now important products in other sections, while in the extreme western portion of the state there are still vast forests of fir and other lumber, to say nothing of the fruits, particularly apples and cherries, raised in that por- tion of Montana lying west of the main range of the Rockies. Our state, third in the Union as to size, is no longer a state for which any author is likely to make the prediction that its population is hybrid and of the ■worst elements of the nomads of mixed races. Every prediction now may fully be that we shall continue our onward progress until we rank, in our develop- ment, as first in certain lines of industry — farming in our section at least, will not be least. With the development in this respect we may also hope for de- velopment along social and educational and other lines for a better and happier people. — M. H. ' 29. — 28 —

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' Mmm Literary THE PASSING FRONTIER About 1830, Washington Irving, who was the famous author of classical legends as well as serious events, discussed the trip of Captain Bonneville in a book of the same name. He (Bonneville) represented one of the fur trading companies invading the western wilds for the sole purpose of obtaining furs for milady ' s and milord ' s garments, and Irving, describing the location of the mouth of the Yellowstone River, where it enters the Missouri near what is now the state line between Montana and North Dakota, made the following obser- vations and prophecy concerning the country in that vicinity, which of course applies to the section of the state in which we live: An immense belt of rocky mountains and volcanic plains, several hun- dred miles in width, must ever remain an irreclaimable wilderness intervening between the abodes of civilization, and affording a last refuge to the Indian. Here roving tribes of hunters, living in tents or lodges, and following the migrations of the game, may lead a life of savage independence where there is nothing to tempt the cupidity of the white man. The amalgamation of various tribes, and of white men of every nation, will in time produce hybrid races like the mountain Tartars of the Caucasus. Possessed as they are of immense droves of horses, should they continue their present predatory and war-like habits, they may in time become a scourge to the civilized frontiers on either side of the mountains, as they are at present a terror to the traveller and trader. For many years thereafter, it seems that his words were truly prophetic. A story told by the Indians living at Fort Union is to the effect that one of their number was sent to Washington by the fur traders to impress him with the strength of the Great Father. Desiring to inform his friends at home of the w onders he had seen, he made a notch on his w illowstick which he carried with him, to represent a white man ' s house. By the time he had reached St. Louis, he had used up several sticks and w as unable to make enough notches after arriving there to keep count. Upon his arrival at Fort Union, he was driven from camp and finally committed suicide because the Indians thought he was fibbing in his descriptions of the wonderful things he had seen. For many years there v as no development in the eastern portion of Mon- tana, real settlement being in the gold fields of the western part of the state. To reach the gold fields one had to go by boat or land up the Missouri River as far as Fort Benton, then called the head of navigation. Many Indian Wars occurred in which the Indians were not alv rays the aggressor. In the march of the white man to the west my own great grand- — 27 —

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' ' n i - v! ' - fmmwjMt MY HOBBY Everyone has something to do in this world. Some of the things are not so enjoyable as others. To me the thing 1 like to do best is to go out and really learn to know Mother Nature. Not only to know her when she is dressed in her beautiful gown of spring but to see her in all her different moods. We humans are much like Mother Nature. There is the spring that comes to everyone. It is the happy, beautiful time of life, a sort of an awakening. The summer is still a lovely time when all nature is at the height of her glory. To all there is a time when we feel we, too, are at the height of our glory. Then comes autumn, which may be likened to the later years of our life. One can then stop to think that all the things of this life have to end, just as the beauti- ful green things of nature all die with the first frost of winter. Mortal men die and leave the tree of life just as the little leaves that came to life in the spring fall off in the winter. Our nature is much like the nature of this world. There are times when we are more or less gloomy and sad, when our life is dark and stormy. What pic- ture is better suited to show this mood than a dark, stormy night? The wind howls, the rain beats on the window, and the night is very troubled. Then comes the dawn. It is a beautiful sunshiny morning. All the sadness and trouble have passed. In such a happy mood it is hard to remember that there are troubles in this world. One has to think that this is nature ' s way of helping us through our cares. I hope that my favorite hobby will always be to be able to enjoy the out- door life. — F. S. ' 30. A SENIOR ' S SOLILOQUY To flunk or not to flunk, that is the question, Whether ' tis nobler in the mind to suffer The long assignments and outrageous studies. Or to take arms against a sea of lessons And by thus opposing them, end them. We stop; we sleep; no more we burn the midnight oil in futile working, But in the flurry and the thousand natural shocks That come when graduation day is near, And the class of ' 29 has reached the crossing, We find that some are lost along the way. We slept; perchance we dreamed; ay, there ' s the rub; For in that sleep w e lost what dreams we had Of ever shuffling off the stage below. Free at last from all the weary lessons we have learned. — E. H. 29. — 29-