The History of Sioux County, a wonderful storybook, was written by one of Sioux County’s own pioneer journalists, Charles L. Dyke, way back in 1940. Dyke’s history is rich, not only because he knew a good story when he saw one, but also because he came here himself in a covered wagon, with his parents, in the days of sod huts.
In this passage from his History, Charles Dyke describes what the first white folks saw when they came up to untouched Sioux County prairie, land open forever to the horizon.
[Can't help but notice that Mr. Dyke wasn't altogether too far from where I'm sitting right now.]
“On their right lay the rich Floyd River bottom with the glistening river winding through the trees and willows. To the north as far as the eye could reach, where the prairie seemed to meet the sky, lay the most beautiful and fertile land in its primeval state that mortal man had ever seen. And this beautiful land which they so much admired was theirs for the asking, provided no others asked for it before they did. It excited them not a little.
“It was in the middle of June, the month of brides and roses, and no bride was ever more beautifully arrayed than Virgin Prairie Sioux was, when she was wooed by the settlers. The lush grass glistened and reflected the sunlight and was sprinkled with millions upon millions of flowers. Roses were everywhere; they hung in garlands along the river banks and crowned the badger-mounds with flaming red, pinks and whites. The sawgrass, tall and vividly green in the sloughs, was banked with masses of white anemones, pink phlox and yellow buttercups. In the low places along the river the violets formed a solid blue, and their delicious perfume arose to heaven. In other low places the pink oxalis thickly covered the ground. The uplands were splotched and spangled with clumps of fire and tiger lilies, larkspurs, coreopsis, daisies, and hundreds of others of almost every known shade, tinge and color.
“The prairie swarmed with old and young prairie chickens, quails, killdeer, larks, plovers, curlews, native sparrows, song sparrows, cranes and many others and the trees along the river were musical with nesting song birds. The sloughs were alive with ducks of different kinds and jingled with the song of the bobolink. Yellow-headed blackbirds hovered over the tall grass and red wing blackbirds swung and ukelelied on the reeds. A brilliant sun made everything shimmer and glimmer and glisten.
“The wagon jogged slowly on, and like Moses of old viewing the promised land from the heights of Pisgah, they gazed and gazed and said nothing, for they were under a spell of strange emotions. Then one of them broke this spell by reverently intoning the paraphrased lines of an old hymn:
“It is the promised land,
Fresh from the Maker’s hand;
It is indeed an earthly paradise.”
“On their right lay the rich Floyd River bottom with the glistening river winding through the trees and willows. To the north as far as the eye could reach, where the prairie seemed to meet the sky, lay the most beautiful and fertile land in its primeval state that mortal man had ever seen. And this beautiful land which they so much admired was theirs for the asking, provided no others asked for it before they did. It excited them not a little.
“It was in the middle of June, the month of brides and roses, and no bride was ever more beautifully arrayed than Virgin Prairie Sioux was, when she was wooed by the settlers. The lush grass glistened and reflected the sunlight and was sprinkled with millions upon millions of flowers. Roses were everywhere; they hung in garlands along the river banks and crowned the badger-mounds with flaming red, pinks and whites. The sawgrass, tall and vividly green in the sloughs, was banked with masses of white anemones, pink phlox and yellow buttercups. In the low places along the river the violets formed a solid blue, and their delicious perfume arose to heaven. In other low places the pink oxalis thickly covered the ground. The uplands were splotched and spangled with clumps of fire and tiger lilies, larkspurs, coreopsis, daisies, and hundreds of others of almost every known shade, tinge and color.
“The prairie swarmed with old and young prairie chickens, quails, killdeer, larks, plovers, curlews, native sparrows, song sparrows, cranes and many others and the trees along the river were musical with nesting song birds. The sloughs were alive with ducks of different kinds and jingled with the song of the bobolink. Yellow-headed blackbirds hovered over the tall grass and red wing blackbirds swung and ukelelied on the reeds. A brilliant sun made everything shimmer and glimmer and glisten.
“The wagon jogged slowly on, and like Moses of old viewing the promised land from the heights of Pisgah, they gazed and gazed and said nothing, for they were under a spell of strange emotions. Then one of them broke this spell by reverently intoning the paraphrased lines of an old hymn:
“It is the promised land,
Fresh from the Maker’s hand;
It is indeed an earthly paradise.”
And the others responded with “Amen! Amen! Amen!’”
____________________
Charles Dyke was raised in the tradition of Dutch Calvinism, as were most of those he remembers well; but he was not always so pious as he seems in the passage you just read; it’s the gorgeous untouched prairie that kindles his reverence.
Charles Dyke was raised in the tradition of Dutch Calvinism, as were most of those he remembers well; but he was not always so pious as he seems in the passage you just read; it’s the gorgeous untouched prairie that kindles his reverence.
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