From a Painting by Frank Holland. THE OVERLAND TRAIL TO CALIFORNIA. “Westward the course of Empire takes its way.{33}”From a Painting by Frank Holland.THE OVERLAND TRAIL TO CALIFORNIA. “Westward the course of Empire takes its way.”
This is the place where we are to be initiated into the beauties of camp life; and to fit out and start with our mule trains for California.
At 4P.M.we had our tents pitched and, as we believed, were perfectly well prepared for the first night in camp, and partaking of a little supper—the first of our own cooking—we lay down, all seeming anxious to try our new manner of living.
We rested very comfortably for a time, but at length it began to rain quite rapidly, and we felt much pleased to find our tents so well adapted to shed water and protect us from a heavy shower.
Our joy, however, was soon after turned to disgust and chagrin when we felt the water between us and the ground, and on rising, we found our under blankets thoroughly drenched with water. Many of us were thoroughly wet to the skin.
This first mishap of the kind to happen must be attributed to our own innocent ignorance, as our tents were set on a slight declivity, and the necessity of trenching them on the upper sides to turn the water away, did not occur to us. However, we learned this part of camp life in such a manner as to never be forgotten.
It was learned in the same manner as we shall hereafter, probably, learn many other new things before ourjourney is ended. A few of our party begin to believe that they have already seen almost enough of camp life to satisfy them.
The company held the monthly meeting today for the election of officers, for the month ensuing, at which Joseph B. Gage was elected president, his term of office to extend to June first. He seemed to feel very much pleased with his new position.
The rain descended in torrents today.
In the afternoon, nine of us took our saddles, a tent and some provisions and went about three miles in a southerly direction, where a large number of our mules were herded, for the purpose of trying our hand at breaking them.
These mules had been purchased by the agents of the two companies and were being kept by Mr. Sloan. We set our tent at the place of herding and made an ineffectual effort to kindle a fire; and after several like attempts, we were compelled to give it up and do without a fire, and put up with some raw ham and hard bread for our supper; after which we retired for a second night’s lodging in the tent.
Saturday, May 5.
The rain ceased last night, and it was fair and pleasant this morning. Five of our mules had broken out of their enclosure and gone astray. Some two or three of our party went in search of them, but returned tonight without success.
We tried our skill today at breaking mules, but havingheretofore had no experience or acquaintance with the long-eared animals, we found it to be a more difficult task than we had supposed it to be, and consequently did not make much progress.
They were young mules which had never been halter-broken, and were almost as wild as the deer on the prairie. A wild, unbroken mule is the most desperate animal that I have ever seen.
I will pass over the time intervening between now and May 26, or about three weeks, with the mention of a few incidents that occurred during our stay at Independence, and giving a slight description of the country surrounding this place.
This being one of the principal fitting-out places for California, it was crowded with immigrants from all parts of the United States. Hundreds of ox-teams and mule-teams were leaving here daily for California, besides many pack-trains, coaches and almost every kind of team or vehicle.
The Asiatic cholera was raging among the immigrants to a large extent.
Many were daily falling victims to this dreaded scourge, while many others were becoming disheartened and were turning back to their homes. Everything here was bustle and wild confusion. Much of the weather was rainy and disagreeable, with occasionally one of the most terrific thunder showers that I ever witnessed.
We tried in vain to break our mules by putting large packs of sand on their backs and leading them about, but it availed very little, as the second trial was as bad as the first; and they were nearly as wild and vicious when westarted on our journey as they were when they were first packed.
Several of our company were sick with the cholera, while a number of the Mount Washington company died with the same dread disease. These adverse circumstances detained us somewhat longer than we wished, and much longer than it was for our interest to remain; but as it seemed unavoidable, we were compelled to content ourselves as best we could. But we were looking for better days. Joseph B. Gage continued to fill the office of president.
The surrounding country is very beautiful with a rich, productive soil, much of it being a high, rolling prairie.
Timber is somewhat scarce, but it is of a superior quality.
There are some small plantations, principally cultivated by colored people, who in almost all cases appear to be well satisfied with their condition in life.
On May 26th, we had moved out about twenty miles from Independence and were prepared for a start. Independence is but a short distant from where Kansas City now stands. (Distance to here, 20 miles.)
Saturday, May 26.
We commenced packing our mules early in the morning, but owing to their wild and unbroken state, and being unacquainted with packing, we were not prepared to start until five o’clock in the evening, when we left our old camp-ground and travelled three miles and again camped. (Distance, 3 miles.)
This appeared like a very tedious way to get to California, a distance of more than 2,000 miles.
Sunday, May 27.
We commenced packing again this morning and were prepared to start at about noon. This is quite an improvement in point of time over yesterday.
It took as many men to pack a mule as could stand around it, and we were obliged to choke many of them, before we could get the saddle upon their backs.
They would kick, bite and strike with their fore feet, making it very dangerous to go about them. Several of our company were quite badly disabled by working with them, so that they were unable to assist in packing.
We started about noon and traveled about eight miles, over a high, rolling prairie, and camped. Today we crossed the western boundary of Missouri and entered the Indian Territory. (Distance, 8 miles.)
Monday, May 28.
This morning we started at 9 o’clock and traveled eighteen miles over a rolling prairie country, and camped near a small Indian village. Very little timber of any kind is found in this section, but we find plenty of grass and water.
The soil is deep and of first-rate quality; and at no distant day this must become one of the richest and most productive agricultural sections of the country. (Distance, 18 miles.)
Tuesday, May 29.
Leave camp at 10 o’clock and travel twelve miles across a prairie and camp in a very pleasant place, where we find plenty of good grass and water, and also a scanty supply of wood.
We saw about a dozen wild horses; but it was impossible to approach near them. Very little game is seen near the road. (Distance, 12 miles.)
Wednesday, May 30.
Owing to some of our horses and mules straying away last night and taking the road toward Missouri, we remained encamped today. The horses, mules and cattle belonging to the two companies number more than three hundred. It was necessary to guard them nights, and each member was obliged to take his turn on guard, regularly, a part of the night, once in two or three nights.
The cattle that we were driving were designed to furnish us with our principal dependence for provisions during our long journey. They were mostly young cattle and not very large. When we were in need of some provisions we would have one killed and dressed, and the meat was divided among the different messes.
We were fortunate enough to recover our mules and horses before night.
I went across about three miles to an Indian village. They have very comfortable log cabins, and were at work turning up the prairie with the plow; and apparently some of them have very good farms, and appear to be partially civilized, and seem to be in a fair way to giveup their former nomadic way of life in exchange for civilization, and gain their livelihood by tilling the soil, instead of pursuing the chase. This, probably, is one of the most civilized tribes, and the great majority of our wild Indians must be expected to cling to their ancient manners and customs for many years in the future.
Thursday, May 31.
The weather is fair and pleasant.
Edward Moon, Esq., secretary of our company, being very much out of health, turned back and left the company for Boston.
This is the second one of our company who has given up going to California and returned to his home.
Many are turning back with their teams, having become discouraged in anticipation of the long and tedious journey before them; large numbers are dying daily of cholera and other fatal diseases.
Leave camp at one o’clock and travel about four miles, where we cross a small river running south; and later, we cross a low, wet, swampy prairie about one and one-half miles in width, after which we travel six miles and camp.
Land today principally prairie, with some cottonwood timber along the streams. Soil excellent. (Distance traveled, 12 miles.)
Friday, June 1.
A beautiful morning. We leave camp at 9 o’clock this morning and travel about twenty miles, over a rollingprairie, without wood or water. Camp in the afternoon about one-half miles west of the road.
We have lost four or five of our cattle, they having left the herd and strayed away. The mules are now becoming very tame and docile, but many of them have very sore backs.
Some of our mules are packed with more than two hundred pounds, which is much too heavy for so young animals. (Distance today, 20 miles.)
Saturday, June 2.
We delayed starting until 2 o’clock, for the reason that two of the Mount Washington men that are traveling with us were taken with the cholera during last night. We leave them with Dr. A. Haynes with assistants and travel twelve miles and camp on the north bend of a small stream, about fifteen miles from the Kansas River.
One of the cholera patients died at 5 o’clock this evening. The other seems some better and appears to be in a fair way to recover.
Sunday, June 3.
Fair and warm. Thermometer 86 degrees in the shade. The last of the two cholera patients died this morning at 9 o’clock. They both died at the camp where we left them, twelve miles east.
We remain here today where we find plenty of good wood, water and grass. The men of both companies are now in good health.
The two men that died of the cholera were large, heavy,strong men in good health, and were taking their turn at driving cattle on Friday. They were stricken with cholera on Friday night. One of the men died Saturday afternoon, and the other died Sunday morning at 9 o’clock. They were buried on the wild prairie. There are hundreds of the immigrants dying constantly—more or less every day.
Monday, June 4.
Leave camp at 10 o’clock for the Kansas River. We cross two or three small streams and pass some Indian settlements, and arrive at the Kaw River ferry in season to cross our horses and mules and a part of our baggage before night.
The ferry-boat is made from hewn planks framed together, bearing a very strong resemblance to a raft.
The river is about 650 feet in width, with a rapid and muddy current. This is one of the three or four streams that contribute to render the waters of the Missouri so very muddy.
On the right bank of the river is situated a small Indian village, known as Uniontown, which, together with the Indian population, contains a few white men who have taken Indian women for their wives.
Two or three of the Mount Washington company are seriously attacked with cholera, but they recovered during the night. (Distance, 15 miles.)
Tuesday, June 5.
It was quite late in the afternoon before we had succeeded in getting all of our mules, horses, cattle andbaggage over the river, consequently we did not move our camp today.
The Pottawatomie tribe of Indians that inhabit this section of the country is quite numerous and is in a partial state of civilization. They are cultivating the soil to considerable extent and raise wheat, corn and potatoes in moderate quantities. We purchased of them some flour and two or three Indian ponies.
One or two of our company are talking some of leaving our company and joining some other party, but they concluded to continue with us.
Wednesday, June 6.
We leave camp at 12 o’clock and travel 18 miles. We passed a Catholic mission erected for the purpose of Christianizing the Indian tribes and converting them to the Catholic religion. Indian settlements are quite numerous here. Rattlesnakes are seen in large numbers.
We camped in the evening, after which a very violent shower came up.
The wind blew so violently that all of our tents were leveled to the earth over our heads, which was not very agreeable. However, we are compelled to make the best of all such misfortunes, and are becoming more accustomed to the endurance of hardships than at first. (Distance, 18 miles.)
Thursday, June 7.
We start at 9 o’clock this morning and after traveling four miles, cross the Little Vermillion River.
We halt for dinner at 10 o’clock, and camp at 6 o’clock. The country through which we are traveling is very beautiful, it being a high, rolling prairie covered with a fine growth of grass, and watered by numerous cool springs of good water, with some small streams. (Distance, 16 miles.)
Friday, June 8.
Strike camp at 8 o’clock, travel until noon, when we unpack our mules and remain until 2 o’clock. Camp at 6 in the evening.
The road is dry and hard and almost as good as a turnpike.
The ox-teams make as good time as our mule train. (Distance traveled, 20 miles.)
Saturday, June 9.
Leave camp at 8:30, and soon after cross the Big Vermillion River, which is a stream of considerable size, with a very rapid current.
Halt for dinner at noon and camp at night without wood. The water is considerably impregnated with alkali, so very strong that it feels slippery.
There is said to be much of this kind of water on the plains. It is destructive to health and even life, both to man and animals. (Distance, 20 miles.)
Sunday, June 10.
Break camp before breakfast and travel twelve miles, where we find an abundance of wood and good water.
Some returning Californians dined with us today, having traveled about 150 miles beyond this point, when they became discouraged and began to retrace their footsteps.
The prospects of reaching California certainly look somewhat discouraging at the present time.
The great bulk of the immigration, which is very large, is in advance of us. That very much dreaded scourge, the Asiatic cholera, is making such sad havoc among the Californians that almost every camp-ground is converted into a burial-ground, and at many places twelve or fifteen graves may be seen in a row.
Almost every traveler that we meet, who has ever been west of the Rocky Mountains, gives it as his opinion that there is not grass enough in that region of country to sustain one-half of the stock that is now on the California trail; and they are of the opinion that the present immigration cannot reach California this season.
Much trouble is also anticipated by many from some of the western tribes of Indians, who are said to be hostile to the whites. The Mormons who settled near the California trail, in the Great Lake valley, in 1847, are also much feared by a large number of those from Missouri.
All these circumstances and conditions combined are of sufficient weight to frighten many and cause them to banish the bright, golden visions which allured them from their homes, with the bright anticipations of soon becoming wealthy.
The principal anxiety that seems to fill the minds of such at the present time is to reach, as soon as possible, their former homes; and consequently, while the greatmajority are moving west, a large number are traveling east.
To meet so many who have been farther westward on the trail, and who have turned backward, and are now seeking their former homes, has its influence upon a large number that would otherwise proceed and causes them to also reverse their course.
I have, myself, heard all these discouragements many times rehearsed, and weighed the matter, and have found conclusions as follows:
I started for California anticipating that we should meet many hardships, privations and dangers on our long journey, and, as yet, we have experienced nothing of a nature any more severe than we had reason to expect; and as for what we may find ahead of us we know but little of. I am fully determined to proceed as far in the direction of California as it is possible for me to go, and not to return until I have seen the place I set out to reach.
It seems to be a very curious fact that the immigrants from the state of Missouri—which by the way, were more numerous than from any other one state—seem to suffer more from the cholera than almost all the other immigration combined.
I know of no good reason why this should be so. They have had their homes on the frontier and, consequently, have been subjected to more exposure and hardships than any other class now on the California trail. (Distance traveled, 12 miles.)
Monday, June 11.
The first experience worthy of note this morning was a very heavy shower. This lasted two hours and was accompanied with a most terrific gale, which very soon levelled every tent in our camp, leaving us nothing under which we could shelter ourselves. Consequently, we were all most thoroughly drenched.
Start in the afternoon and travel fifteen miles over a smooth prairie, and camp. (Distance, 15 miles.)
Tuesday, June 12.
Weather very fine. Leave camp at 9 o’clock, and travel eight miles and camp until three, when we again move on nine miles farther, and camp for the night. (Distance traveled, 17 miles.)
Wednesday, June 13.
A shower with a heavy wind occurred at about midnight.
Our tents withstood the gale, but the rain was driven through in such large quantities as to drench us thoroughly.
At about 2 o’clock another shower occurred with a wind much stronger and more severe than the first, which levelled all our tents to the ground, notwithstanding the exertions of us all to keep them standing; and we were again left without a shelter, and compelled to pass the balance of the night as best we could—some standing in the open air with their backs to the storm, while otherswere lying under their prostrate tents with water all around them two or three inches deep.
These showers are accompanied with very violent electrical displays and very heavy thunder. They are the most violent and terrifying of anything of the kind I have ever witnessed.
About daylight we managed to get fires started, and before noon dried ourselves and our camp equipage almost completely.
We started at noon and traveled eighteen miles. The land through which we passed is apparently very fertile, but is almost destitute of timber of any kind. Camp on a small stream of clear, pure water.
Thursday, June 14.
Leave camp at seven in the morning and travel until eleven o’clock. We take dinner on the bank of the Big Blue River—a fork of the Kansas. We start again at two o’clock and camp at six on the Big Blue. (Distance, 25 miles.)
Friday, June 15.
Weather fair and cool. Travel up the Blue River today. This is a most beautiful stream; has a rich and fertile soil, with considerable good timber. (Distance, 25 miles.)
Saturday, June 16.
Decamp at eight o’clock and travel ten miles to the point where the trail leaves the Blue River. We dine here.
The road from this place to the Platte River is through prairie country destitute of wood. We travel fifteen miles in the afternoon and camp on the prairie, without wood, and with quite poor water.
Sunday, June 17.
Travel twelve miles in the forenoon to the Platte, or Nebraska River. In the afternoon we go up the river eight miles and camp near Fort Kearney, at the head of Grand Island. This island is 52 miles in length and appears to be well timbered.
The Platte is a large river, being from one to two miles wide, and has a very rapid current. Its waters are so very muddy that after a bucketful has settled, an inch of mud, or sediment will appear at the bottom. It has a bed of sand which is constantly in motion. (Distance traveled, 20 miles.)
Monday, June 18.
We remain here today.
The weather is fair and warm. Thermometer 86 degrees in the shade. Grass is not very abundant.
We repair our pack-saddles and other equipage which has become considerably out of repair. The backs and shoulders of many of our mules have become very sore and in a serious condition, many of them having lost large patches of skin, and the prospect, at present, seems to be that few of them will survive to reach California the present season.
We have made an inspection of our packs today in
From an Old Painting. BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO.From an Old Painting.BAY OF SAN FRANCISCO.
view of trying to make them lighter, if possible, but could discover very little in them that the members were willing to discard.
We have, for one thing, a patent “filter,” the weight of which is about 30 pounds, which has been of no use to us, and the prospect now is that it will never be of any benefit whatever. We have some iron spades that probably will be of no benefit to any one.
We have also some large, heavy picks which we have brought all the way from Boston, and also shovels. These may be useful in the mines, but it does not seem to be feasible to pack them 2000 miles on the sore backs of mules.
There are, however, such a large number in the company that are so bitterly opposed to leaving any such article that they will defeat any such measure proposed; and even call all such foolish who believe it would be wise to lighten the loads of our poor mules in such a manner.
Tuesday, June 19.
Weather fair and very windy.
Remain here today. I visit Fort Kearney, which is about one and one-half miles distant from our camp.
The fort and other buildings are constructed of adobe, or sun-burned bricks, with one exception. The fort was established about two years since.
A large number of immigrants are encamped about the fort, at this time, and also a company of United States cavalry. It is said at Fort Kearney that the wagons passed here already this season, en route for California,number 5,400, and also three pack trains. This point is about 350 miles from Independence, Mo.
Wednesday, June 20.
We packed in the afternoon and after traveling four miles, we encountered a very fierce shower, which thoroughly drenched every one of us. A little later another shower was encountered, which was much more severe than the first, and which was accompanied with some hail and a terrific wind.
Camp at the first good camping place after the showers. Blankets and all clothes thoroughly wet and no opportunity for drying them. It is certainly uncomfortable lodgings.
Since leaving Independence, until the last two or three days, my health has not been very good. (Distance, 10 miles.)
Thursday, June 21.
Travel nine miles in the forenoon and six in the afternoon. Our course is up the Platte River, the valley of which is nearly level and is several miles wide on either side. We camp tonight where there is no wood on the mainland, and we waded a branch of the river about twenty rods to an island to procure it. The water is not deep, but the current is quite rapid. There are numerous islands in the river.
Friday, June 22.
Travel 12 miles in the forenoon, halt two hours and dine. Travel eight miles in the afternoon and camp. All in good health.
Saturday, June 23.
Travel up the River Platte today 20 miles, and camp without wood, but find plenty of “Buffalo chips,” which, if dry, are a very good substitute for fuel.
Sunday, June 24.
Weather fair and warm. Thermometer stands at 95 degrees, at noon, in the shade.
I traveled south, back from the river, about four miles to the bluffs, today. Owing to the very clear, transparent atmosphere, no one who was not acquainted with it could believe the distance was more than one mile at most. I did not believe it when I left camp, after having been told by those who had traveled the distance and back.
These bluffs are a succession of sand hills, rising abruptly from the level plain, along the Platte on both sides, and extend back from the river a long distance.
Antelopes are very plentiful, but are not easily killed on the level prairie. There is little timber or wood here. The soil is sandy, but produces a very good grass.
Monday, June 25.
Broke camp at 5 o’clock in the morning and traveled eight miles, where we halted until two in the afternoon. Travel three and one-half hours in the afternoon and camp on the bank of the river, where we found a good supply of wood. Mosquitoes are more plentiful here than I have ever seen before. I would judge there are more than forty bushels of these pests to the acre, and they are of a very large breed. (Distance, 20 miles.)
Tuesday, June 26.
Started at 5 o’clock this morning. We had traveled about ten miles, when the startling cry of “Buffalo ahead” was heard from those in advance.
This was the first buffalo herd seen by our company, and every one was anxious to gratify his curiosity by a sight of a real live American bison. On looking ahead about two miles, and not far from the immigrant trail, a herd of about one hundred buffaloes could be seen, quietly grazing.
A number of the company that could be spared from the train, immediately left the train and gave chase to the herd. The buffaloes on seeing their approach, immediately started toward the sand hills, and soon disappeared from sight. The men who were in pursuit followed them, and we soon after camped on the bank of the River Platte.
Soon after we had unpacked the mules, we saw four large buffaloes emerging from the brush, not more than 100 rods distant from our camp. Our horses were all unsaddled, and before we could catch and saddle them, the large animals were a long distance from us.
One of our men, Mr. Hodgdon, soon came in and stated that he had shot and killed a buffalo, about four miles distant from our camp, in the sand hills. After dinner, a party of four or five with two extra mules, went out to dress the slaughtered bison, and to bring the meat into our camp; and the balance of the company packed up the camp and started. During the afternoon, we killed a buffalo calf, four or five weeks old.
We ate buffalo meat for supper, cooked with “Buffalo chips.” The meat is very coarse grained and of a dark color, and is very good, but in my estimation, is much inferior to good beefsteak. They are said not to be so good at this season of the year as they will be later, when they will be more fleshy. (Distance, 18 miles.)
Wednesday, June 27.
We started at 8 o’clock and traveled four miles in the forenoon. In the afternoon we go up the river to the South Platte.
I went up the river about three miles for some wood. Plenty of buffalo. (Distance, 17 miles.)
Thursday, June 28.
Fair weather. Packed in the morning and prepared to ford the south fork of the Platte River.
The stream is about three-fourths of a mile in width and from one foot to three feet deep. The current is rapid and water very muddy. From its appearance, any one might suppose the stream was 20 feet deep.
I crossed and recrossed it on horseback three times. We had no very bad luck in crossing. Some of our packs became wet and we unpacked on the west side of the stream and dried them. We started at one o’clock and traveled 12 miles in the afternoon and camped without wood, but found plenty of good, dry “Buffalo chips.” (Distance, 13 miles.)
Friday, June 29.
Start at 6.30 o’clock and finding neither wood nor water, we traveled seven hours, when we halt and make a search for water, and find a spring about one mile from camp.
This was good fortune. (Distance, 20 miles.)
Saturday, June 30.
Weather warm and dry. Travel ten miles in the forenoon and eight in the afternoon. One of our company killed a buffalo this afternoon, and after we had camped, Joseph B. Gage, with two or three others, with mules, went back to bring in the meat; but before they had arrived at the place where it was slain, they saw a band of Indians riding toward them, and they became frightened and returned to camp with all possible speed.
The next morning, a party of Sioux Indians came into our camp, and desired the doctor should give them some medicine, stating that their camp was on the opposite side of the Platte, and that the smallpox was raging among them.
They were perfectly friendly and said they had no intention of frightening our men away from the buffalo meat, but that they wished to talk with them and get some medicine; and also stated that they made all the friendly signs that they could think of to have them stop. The doctor supplied them with medicine and they left our camp. (Distance, 18 miles.)
Sunday, July 1.
We did not move camp today.
The land is not so level here as it is on the Lower Platte. Soil sandy; wood scarce; weather fair and dry.
Monday, July 2.
We started in the morning and soon passed through Ash Hollow, so-called. It derives its name from large quantities of red ash timber found here.
We dine at the foot of Castle Bluffs. These bluffs of sandstone rise abruptly several hundred feet, and having been exposed to the weather for many thousand years, have been transformed into shapes very much resembling ancient castles, hence the name. Camp on the Platte.
The road today has been very sandy. (Distance, 23 miles.)
Tuesday, July 3.
Break camp at half past six in the morning and travel four hours in the forenoon and eleven miles in the afternoon. Found the road sandy. Camp on the bank of the North Platte. (Distance, 25 miles.)
Wednesday, July 4.
The Fourth of July will remind an American of his home wherever he may be or however far he may be separated from it. Early in the morning we fired several rounds, and made as much noise as possible in honor of the day of Independence. We started in the morning and soon passed an encampment where we had thepleasure of beholding the “Star Spangled Banner” floating in the cool breeze. We traveled a few miles farther and passed another camp with two large American flags waving above it.
We halted at noon within sight of Court House Rock. This rock is several hundred feet in length and at a distance bears a strong resemblance to a large building with a cupola. It is said to be about 12 miles from the road, but to measure the distance with the eye, a person would judge it to be not more than one mile distant. The name of J. J. Astor, with the date 1798, is said to have been carved there, and that it may still be seen. Mr. Astor was one of the American fur traders to cross the continent.
We camp seven miles south of Chimney Rock. This rock rises about 255 feet and in form very much resembles a chimney. Standing as it does on a level plain, it can be seen 25 or 30 miles away. Its material is sandstone and may easily be worked or cut. (Distance, 20 miles.)
Thursday, July 5.
Weather pleasant. Traveled 18 miles up the Platte and camped. Grass is quite scarce here.
Friday, July 6.
We passed “Scott’s Bluffs” in the forenoon which present a very peculiar appearance. We found plenty of wood at noon—the first we have had for four days.
Camp at a fine spring, where we also find an abundance of fuel but a scarcity of grass. In the afternoonwe have a view of “Laramie Peak,” distant more than 50 miles west. Camp at night on Horse Creek, where we find good grass and water. (Distance, 25 miles.)
Saturday, July 7.
Traveled 20 miles, principally over a barren country, and camped.
Sunday, July 8.
Weather fair with a high wind.
Start in the morning and after traveling three hours we reach Laramie River, which we ford with no other difficulty than to have some of our packs considerably wet. This stream, although small, is very rapid and has a gravelly bottom with clear water.
We soon after passed Fort Laramie and camp two miles above the fort on Laramie River. By recrossing the river we have good grass for our horses, mules and cattle. (Distance, 15 miles.)
Monday, July 9.
Remained here today.
Before leaving Boston we had light, strong trunks manufactured—two for each pack mule—in which to pack our clothing, provisions, etc. They were made as portable as was possible to insure sufficient strength. We now, after packing them about 700 miles, get a vote of the company to break them up and make bags from the leather coverings. This measure some of us have believed to be a wise plan for a month past, but those whofirst favored the plan were laughed at by the majority. We have been packing thirty pounds of dead weight to each mule which can be dispensed with. The first thought of packing these trunks—two to each mule—to California, was a sad oversight by Captain Thing, who suggested them.
Tuesday, July 10.
Weather fair and warm; thermometer 98 degrees in the shade. Remained here today. In the evening I went down to the fort. The outside wall is built of adobe, or sun-burnt bricks, and encloses about one-half acre. The buildings are within the enclosure. The fort was established several years since by the American Fur Company for the purpose of trading with the Indians, and was sold a short time since by that company to the United States Government, and is now occupied by Colonel Sanderson with a regiment of United States Cavalry. He is now engaged in building a mill, house, barracks, etc.
Wednesday, July 11.
We still remain here.
All the camp grounds near the fort are literally covered with wagon irons, clothing, beans, bacon, pork and provisions of almost all kinds, which have been left by the advance immigration to lighten their loads and facilitate their speed.
Thursday, July 12.
Decamp at 9 o’clock and after traveling 21 miles, we camp on a small stream. Grass poor.
Friday, July 13.
Weather cool. Started at seven in the morning and after 13 miles’ travel, we found a most excellent spring at which we dined.
In the afternoon we cross a small stream and camp on the Platte, where we find good grass. (Distance, 24 miles.)
Saturday, July 14.
Travel 13 miles in the forenoon and 12 in the afternoon and camped on a small river. Grass scarce.
Sunday, July 15.
Weather fair and warm. Remain in camp today. We have found plenty of wood since we left Laramie. The country through this part is hilly and broken; soil barren and sterile. The health of the company is good. The cholera followed the immigration to near Fort Laramie, making sad ravages in very many companies; but it seems at last to have slackened its hold and seems to have become extinct. For the last week we have seen but few graves by the roadside.
Many were the men who left their homes for California last spring, with bright prospects of reaping a golden harvest within a few months and returning to their home and friends. But alas! their hopes were blasted, and instead they have left their bones to bleach upon the great plains of Nebraska, with not even a stone to mark their resting place. Many, who one day have been in the enjoyment of perfect health, the next have been in their graves.
Monday, July 16.
We started in the morning and in good season, and drove 17 miles before dinner, and eight more in the afternoon. The land over which we have traveled today is very barren and produces very little, excepting wild sage weeds with a very little grass, which at this time is perfectly dry.
Tuesday, July 17.
Started in the morning and traveled eight miles to the lower ferry on the North Platte, where we camped. Here we found a poor ferry boat in which we carried our packs to the opposite side of the stream, and caused all of our animals to swim over. We lost one mule by being drowned, with which exception we were very fortunate. The stream at this point is very rapid and deep. Travel 12 miles in the afternoon over a barren, sandy country and camp on the Platte.
Wednesday, July 18.
Travel 18 miles up the river and camp.
The land is poor and many of our mules are in poor condition; and some of the weakest appear as if they would be unable to proceed a great distance further.
Large quantities of bacon and other kinds of provisions have been left by immigrants by the side of the road when teams became exhausted, and may be seen in large heaps on almost every camp ground.
Farming and mining implements of all descriptions, mechanics’ tools, and wagons, all go to make up the list of abandoned property.
Thursday, July 19.
Travel 12 miles and camp on the North Platte, two miles above the upper ferry, at a point where the road leaves the river.
In the afternoon we have very fine sport catching a sort of white fish from the river which are very plentiful at this place, and are a fine fish.
Friday, July 20.
We did not start today until noon.
The filter of which I have before spoken has been packed all these many miles from Independence on the mule of George Carlton. He has spoken in favor of leaving it several times, but the consent of some of the company could not be had. What could be done? The poor mule was getting weak and poor.
Mr. Carlton took the filter from the pack and put it into a thicket and informed two or three whom he well knew were in favor of leaving it behind, and said if we would “keep dark” he would let it remain there. So the filter was left behind when we started.
In the afternoon we traveled 11 miles and camped at a spring.
Saturday, July 21.
Start in the morning and in ten miles’ travel come to some very strong alkali water. Travel 5 miles farther and dine at a good spring.
Go 5 miles in the afternoon. Wild sage is the principal production here.
Sunday, July 22.
Weather fine. Start in the morning and travel 20 miles. Camp on the Sweetwater River, a branch of the Platte, one mile above Independence Rock.
The country between the Platte and Sweetwater Rivers is very barren, destitute of timber, with very little grass or other vegetation, except wild sage. Much of the water is alkali, poisonous to cattle and horses and is entirely unfit for use. When water has evaporated here, a substance resembling saleratus may be gathered up in large quantities. In some cases it may be found on the surface three or four inches in thickness, white and pure as the finest pearlash manufactured; and on trial we found it equally as good for the purpose of making bread. We have seen large numbers of dead cattle by the roadside the past three days.
Monday, July 23.
Remain encamped here today for the benefit of our tired mules.
We had a fine shower in the afternoon. A buffalo was killed by one of our company yesterday which affords us plenty of meat.
Tuesday, July 24.
The majority of our company is not ready to advance, consequently we must remain here another day.
The excuse is made that it is necessary for the animals to recruit, but the grass is poor, and I believe the animals will gain very little. A short stop might be of some benefit, but to remain two or three days where there is very little grass seems like wasting time to no good purpose. The company is too large to travel in one body. Some are for going ahead, while others are in favor of resting. A company of ten men is quite large enough to travel expeditiously, but our company is so situated that it cannot well be dissolved at present.
Wednesday, July 25.
We break camp and travel up the Sweetwater River an hour, which brings us to the Devil’s Gate. This is a fissure in the rock in the Sweetwater River, thirty or forty feet wide, two or three hundred feet long, and perhaps two hundred feet high, through which the river passes, and is quite a natural curiosity.
Travel 20 miles and camp on the river.
Thursday, July 26.
Travel 10 miles in the forenoon and 10 in the afternoon, continuing up the Sweetwater. There is a range of mountains of each side of the valley. On the right they are composed almost entirely of barren rocks, destitute of vegetation. On the left they have some soil and some vegetation.
Friday, July 27.
Start in the morning and after six miles’ travel the road leaves the river and we travel 16 miles farther before we find either water or grass, when we reach the river again.
We travel up the river two miles further and camp. Grass poor. The land along the Sweetwater is very poor, with the exception of a little bottom land. Today we had a view of the snow capped mountains—the Wind River Mountains.
Saturday, July 28.
Travel up the river 8 miles, where we find good grass, which we have not had the pleasure of seeing before for several days.
Sunday, July 29.
Weather fair and warm.
We remained encamped here today. I went out from camp a short distance into a small piece of timber and on my return a young deer ran out before me and I shot it with my pistol through the heart. This is the first deer that has been killed by the company. Mr. Lyon also killed a Mountain Sheep, or Bighorn.
Monday, July 30.
As we didn’t move our camp today some of us went deer hunting. Deer were quite plentiful, and J. B. Gage killed one, which we dressed and carried four miles to camp. I fired several shots with buckshot but did not succeed in killing any game.
The country in this vicinity is broken and mountainous; soil is rocky, sandy and not very productive.