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It's summer 1869 in rural Nebraska.

32-year-old J.P. Morgan, who goes by his middle name Pierpont, sits in a train carriage with his wife Fanny.

Both stare through the window at the awe-inspiring landscape.

The first transcontinental railroad has just been completed and Pierpont and his family are among the first to enjoy a new phenomenon,

a trip to the west coast without leaving the comfort and safety of a train carriage.

But when the train begins to slow and then comes to a stop, leaving the comfort of the carriage is all Pierpont wants to do.

Fanny, I think we're stopping for water.

Let's get out so we can say we stood on the great plains.

Pierpont opens the door to his carriage, jumps down to the ground outside and turns to help his wife.

Then the two stand hand in hand, gazing out and wander at the vast open grassland.

After a moment, Fanny points into the distance where she sees a group of natives on horseback.

Oh, Pierpont over there, look. Well, I'll be. Who are they?

Probably the tribe that lives here, I think they're at the Pawnee.

As Pierpont and Fanny look on, the natives swing around and head in the direction of the train.

Oh, are they friendly Pierpont? I'm certain they are, otherwise the driver wouldn't have stopped.

The Morgan's watch has the Pawnee's come closer and Pierpont begins to grow alarmed when he sees their arm not just with bows and arrows and rifles, too.

I think we should get back on board just in case. Let me give you a hand.

Pierpont helps Fanny back into the carriage and then looks back over his shoulder.

The Pawnee's have kicked their horses into a gallop and are approaching fast.

Pierpont, come on, quick, get inside.

Pierpont scrambles up into the train and shuts the carriage door behind him.

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