D. R. HINDMAN
PARKVILLE, MO.
Printed by American Printing Co.
St. Joseph, Mo.
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To My Wife:
 The short sentence of my dedication being too brief to expressmy high appreciation of your worth, is my plea for the words that follow.
It was a bright Sabbath in June, 1857, that our eyes first met, andan incident, trivial in itself, led to the long journey we have made together.As I look back over the intervening years between February 23rd, 1858,and February 23rd, 1908, many incidents in our lives come before me. Someof them filled our hearts with joy, and called for seasons of thanksgivingto God. There were others of difficulty and trial that only, by your loveand self denial, I was enabled to meet and overcome. When on the tentedfield or weary march, the sacrifices you were making gave me courage, andenabled me to do well my part. It was my confidence in you, a woman loyalto her country, that, just before the battle, enabled me calmly to sayto the Orderly Sergeant of my Company: “If I fall today, write to my wife.”But there were other incidents in our lives that called you to make sacrifice–notfor country, but for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom. You gave up apleasant home, which by your sacrifice and toil you helped to acquire,and became a faithful wife to a Home Missionary, sharing with him in histoil, and by the frugal use of a salary that did not average more than$700 per year, comfortably providing for the wants of the household. Butyour helpfulness did not end here. In every field to which God called usyou made friends, many of whom remember you with loving tenderness; amongthem the may children you taught in the Sabbath School. They now are themen and women who serve the world, and today–our Golden Wedding Day–dothey think of you in loving memory.
Your husband, your children, men and women of the world, all servedby your noble, unselfish life, dear wife, today rise up and call you blessed.Â
CHAPTER FIRST
As I sit in my study this morning my thoughts go back over the past;thoughts of my childhood and of my youth and early manhood come up beforeme; then come thoughts of disappointment, trial, and sorrow, followingeach other in quick succession. But these dark clouds passed over, andagain the smiles of love and peace lighted up my pathway, touched hereand there with dark shadows which only modified the light, and gave ita milder glow. Amid all this I see a loving hand that pointed out the wayand imparted the strength for each successive step which has brought mesafely to the present, and will guide and keep me safely until the gloriouslight of an endless day breaks upon my vision. That loving hand is thehand of my Heavenly Father. To Him be all the praise.
It is pleasant as one thinks of the past, to realize that he waswell born. My great grandfather on my father’s side was a Presbyterian.He came to this country from the north of Ireland, in the early part ofthe eighteenth century, and settled in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.There my grandfather was born and grew to manhood. My grandmother’s maidenname was McClanahan. She was born in Chester County, Pennsylvania, in thebounds of the Foogs [Faggs] Manor Presbyterian church, with which she unitedin her early womanhood. After their marriage they lived east of the Allegheniesfor a few years, but in the year 1800 they moved west of the mountains,and made their home in Elizabeth Township, Allegheny County, Pennsylvania.Being in the bounds of the Round Hill Presbyterian Church, they unitedwith it, and continued members of it until by death they were called totheir Heavenly Home. Grandfather died April 27, 1816, aged fifty-seven.Grandmother died November 11, 1854, aged ninety-two. All their children,seven in number, united with the Round Hill Presbyterian Church.
My mother’s maiden name was Howell. There were three brothers, twoof whom, with their families, were connected with Round Hill Church. Hergrandmother on her mother’s side was a Covenanter, but her children andnear relatives were Associated Reformed Presbyterians, now United Presbyterians.Her name was Drennen.
My father was a cooper by trade, and after his marriage settled neara mill owned by grandfather Howell, but which, with other valuable property,passed out of his hands in consequence of his going security for a friend.In this humble home I was born on the 26th day of November, 1827, the fourthin a family of ten. In it I grew almost to manhood, and around it clustermany precious memories. Within its rude walls were heard every morning,if father was not absent from home, the reading of God’s Holy Word andthe voice of praise and prayer. On Sabbath afternoon a portion of timewas devoted to reading the Bible, and in the evening the Shorter Catechismwas recited; father asking the questions from memory, and correcting mistakesin answers when they were made. Sabbath to me was always a pleasant day,and with my father and elder brothers–unless weather prevented–I wasoften found in the house of God. Serious thoughts often filled my mindin early childhood. A desire to reach heaven and escape hell often troubledme; but the way to reach the one and escape the other did not enter mymind. The story of Jesus’ love, and his sufferings and death to save sinners,touched my heart deeply, but that He died for me, and that by trustingin Him to save me He would become my Saviour, was not revealed to me asa sweet messenger of peace, assuring me of escaping the one and becomingheir to the other. Not until I was almost grown to manhood did this blessedtruth, by the enlightening influence of the Holy Spirit, become part ofmy very being, lifting me out of myself and planting my feet on the “Rockof Ages.”
School privileges in the days of my childhood were limited, and whenI reached an age of usefulness duties were often required of me which deprivedme of the advantages which were available. English grammar was studiedin the cooper shop, the text book being kept on a shelf near my work bench.A sentence or a rule was read, and as I worked, repeated in the mind untilcommitted to memory. Parsing was done in the same way. A walk of two mileswas made twice a week to recite to a competent teacher. This to me wasnot a self imposed task, but a delight. My reading was principally biographyand history. More than one walk was taken to borrow a book and return itafter it had been read. Thus in my breast was instilled a love of adventurethat was practically worked out in after years.
A knowledge of vocal music was also acquired during those early days,under a competent teacher. Possessing a good voice and being associatedwith others as skillful as myself, it was made a source of much enjoyment,and in after years one of profit. Much other useful knowledge was gainedduring those early years. Not only did I learn a good trade, but to usewith ease and skill almost every tool then used by the husbandman.
I now come to note the most important event in my life, and I approachit with reverence. Two brothers, older than myself, having reached theirmajority, were located some distance from the old home. The eldest, howeverwas near enough to spend some of his Sabbaths with us. Our pastor was ayoung man, and mingled freely with the young people over whom he had agreat influence. The season for the fall communion had come. In those dayscommunion was held in the spring and fall, and services were held on Friday,Saturday and Monday. Brother came home before attending these services,and on Saturday requested me to accompany him. I had, previous to this,read a book given to me by an aunt, the title of which was “Abbots Childat Home.” It had made a deep impression on my mind, and in some measureprepared me for the event which I will now relate. On the way to churchbrother said to me: “I am going to unite with the church today, and I wantyou to unite with me.” this was only a request made by a brother whom Iloved, but the Hold Spirit pressed it home as a duty. I asked my HeavenlyFather to accept and save me, washing away my sins by the precious bloodof Jesus. I went before the session with my brother and was received intothe church, and on the next day sat beside my mother at the communion tableof the Blessed Saviour. As I write, I look back to it as one of the happiestdays of my life, which will not be forgotten either in time or eternity.
I may find no better place than this to write a note of tribute tothe memory of my mother. She showed her love for her children, not so muchby words of endearment or loving caresses, as by toiling for them and makingsacrifices for their enjoyment. It is with a feeling of sadness calledup by writing of these days of “long ago,” that I remember we made herburdens heavy by bringing company into the home and entertaining them andourselves, when we should have lightened them by rendering her that assistancewhich was fully within our power; but such is the thoughtlessness of youth.The burdens of father and mother are forgotten in the days when the childrenmight make them light; and when in after years their neglect is broughtto mind, atonement cannot be made by placing flowers on their graves, whichwill quickly wither in the rays of the summer sun.
About this time thoughts of the future sprang up in my mind, andthe question, What avocation shall I follow in this life? A desire to bea minister of the gospel had dawned within me, but I felt that the doorwas closed against me. I did, however, made[sic] known my thoughts to myfather, and with a glow of pleasure he said; “David, if you think you cansecure an education by your own efforts, I will release you from all furtherobligations to me.” This was all he could do, for he was poor in this world’sgoods. Then the question came, How can I leave him to toil alone for motherand the younger children? But it was soon answered, for love and duty conquered.This resulted in my staying in the home and rendering helpful service untilthe spring after I was twenty-one.
Another question of great importance to all the family began to bediscussed about this time, a change from the old home to Schuyler County,Illinois. Father had two brothers living in that county. One in Rushvilleand the other in the country. Having visited them in the summer of 1844,and gained some knowledge of the country and its advantages, he had a strongdesire to make the change. Two years, however, passed before any step wastaken towards its consummation. In the spring of 1846 my brothers Samueland James left the scenes of their childhood, and went to this new landto lay a foundation for future homes for themselves and prepare a homefor the rest of the family at their coming in the fall. This change waslooked forward to with much interest, and in the fall the change was made.On the morning of October 27th, 1846, father, mother and the young children,bade a last adieu to the old home, and looked for the last time on thehills that surrounded it. Among the relatives and friends who were thelast to say goodby was a Mr. Powers, a cousin of my mother’s by marriage.As he released my hand he dropped a half Eagle into it, and before I couldspeak, he was gone. As he was not over liberal in bestowing gifts on hisfriends, this act was accounted for by calling to mind an incident thathad taken place a few months previous. He and a brother-in-law, an uncleof my mother, had trouble over a business transaction, and uncle was aboutto enter suit against him. As I was present when the contract was made,uncle depended on me as his main witness; but before suit was entered Imet Mr. Powers, who discussed the contract with me, and tried to make itappear that his contention in the case was the correct one. I told himhe was in the wrong and uncle in the right. My firmness saved him froma law suit in which he would have been the loser, and the disgrace of causingsuch a difficulty with a near relative.
Our journey to our new home was a pleasant one. The steamer on whichwe took passage at Pittsburgh for St. Louis was new, and the accommodationsgood. The changing scenery of each day as we passed down the Ohio and upthe Middle Mississippi, was a source of delight to one who loves the beautiesof nature, and I drank in all its loveliness. At St. Louis we took passageon an old stern-wheel packet for Fredericksville, Illinois which we reachedon the evening of November 13th. The next morning I was sent by my fatherto the new home to inform my brothers of our arrival, and have them sendteams to convey the household goods and family to the new home. The walkof nine miles was a pleasant one. Everything along the way here was newand strange to me, and I made the journey without fatigue or once askingdirections to help me in finding the way. When I came in sight of the newhome, I recognized it by the description given in my brothers’ letters.Entering the cooper shop my eyes rested on objects that were very familiarto me, most of which I had and led, and when I entered the house the resultwas the same, but no brothers were in sight. They were, however, quicklyfound, and before the sun went down beyond the western horizon, the entirefamily was under the same roof, and with glad hearts could sing, “Home,sweet home, be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”
 CHAPTER SECOND
The first year in the new home was one of great prosperity, but whenwe entered the second the interests of the family became divided. Thishowever, did not mar the home pleasures, for one roof still sheltered all.We all sat around the same table and partook of God’s bounty, andfather was still priest in his own home. We went to the same house of Godand joined with God’s people in public worship; our church connection beingwith the Presbyterian Church of Rushville. Thus time passed pleasantlyuntil the early part of the winter of Forty-nine. News of the discoveryof gold in California had at that time reached all parts of our country,and many were making preparation to go to this land of untold wealth, bymaking a long and dangerous journey across the plains. My elder brothersand I were among the victims who were taken with this strange disease,which instead of causing pain, gave pleasure. But all could not go, andas I had devoted my entire services to my father up to this time, I hadno means to use in preparing an outfit. This was provided by my brothers,Samuel and James, and I was taken in as a full partner to go with Samuel,James remaining at home to manage his own and his brother’s business affairs.
A large company was being formed of citizens of Rushville and vicinity,most of whom were young men. These formed themselves into messes of fouror five, each bearing an equal share in securing the outfit, which consistedof a wagon, four yoke of oxen, enough provisions, to the man, to last sixmonths, with what personal property each one wished to take, consistingprincipally of clothing, mining tools, guns and ammunition. Our mess mateswere brothers, by the name of Taylor, one a doctor, the other a lawyer.Much time was spent securing an outfit, and most of the company had leftRushville before our preparations were completed, but on the second dayof April all was ready, and on the morning of the third, goodbys were saidto all the dear ones, and we entered on our long and dangerous journey.Little did we think that morning, that one of us would never again meetthe dear ones on earth.
Our first day’s travel covered but a few miles. Rain fell duringthe afternoon, and being poor ox drivers–none of us having had any experiencein the art–we stranded on a hill up which we had to carry part of ourgoods, and when this was accomplished evening had come. That night we sleptin a reclining position and in our wet clothes. This was not much likesleeping in mother’s feather bed, but we were on our way to the land ofgold, and the recompense to be secured at the end of the journey wouldoutweigh all the hardships to be met with by the way. We met with no moredifficulty until we left Carthage, the County seat of Hancock County, wherewe spent Sabbath. There is a great deal of flat prairie between Carthageand Warsaw, and we encountered much bad road. Thinking it would be betterto turn out on the prairie sod, we did so, and soon found ourselves locatedon a claim that we did not wish to hold, but could not vacate without carryinga large portion of our goods to the only dry ground in sight, which wasabout sixty yards distant. When this was done, night had come. The oxenwere chained to the wagon wheels and fed, a cup of coffee made for eachman, and with hard bread to match we made our supper. After a comfortablenight’s rest we partook of the same kind of fare for breakfast, and leftour pleasant camping ground, which seemed to have been placed just whereit was for our special benefit. We reached Warsaw without encounteringany more difficulty, where we found the company encamped. At this pointall our heavy goods were shipped by steamboat to St. Joseph by way of St.Louis, two responsible men being sent in charge of them. After waitingtwo or three days we were ferried over the Mississippi River, which atthat time was very high, and encamped on the commons near the village ofAlexander, Missouri. The next morning we made all needed preparation toreach the bluffs in safety. Our wagon beds were raised up by putting blocksunder them to keep them above the water. A guide was employed to pilotus through the water, and after traveling six miles, dry land was reached,and when three more were added to the day’s journey, we found a pleasantplace to camp.
From this point to the Missouri River, our journey was made withease and enjoyment. Most of the country over which we passed was prairie,and the range of vision in some places almost unlimited. This, with thebudding of nature into the beauties of spring, gave a charm to all uponwhich the eye rested. As we intended crossing the Missouri River at oldFort Kearney our course was due west, but lack of roads and bridges overthe many streams we had to cross, caused us to vary our course, and partof the journey was made in Missouri and part in Iowa. We camped over Sabbathat Garden Grove, Iowa, then a Mormon village consisting of a few log cabinsand a horse mill, but now a flourishing railroad town. A gentleman, whosename was Kellogg, had bought out the Mormons and was then on the ground,and spent the day among us. He seemed to be embittered against all Christianinfluence, and was ready to discuss his infidel views with anyone who wouldgive him an opportunity. He was but a sample of many who would rather herdwith the ungodly on the outskirts of civilization, than live in a communitycontrolled by Christian influence. From this point we traveled southwest,and Tuesday afternoon passed through Bethany, the county seat of HarrisonCounty, Missouri, then a village about one year old.
A few days after this one of my mess mates and I left the train inthe morning to spend the day in hunting. On this part of our journey thehouses were few, but about noon one was sighted. This was our only chanceto obtain dinner. The family consisted of father, mother and three daughters.Being from “Old Virginia,” their hospitality prompted them to spread thetable with a bountiful repast, consisting of corn dodgers, fat bacon andbutter-milk. Remuneration for this bountiful dinner was refused. Aftersaying good bye to the ladies we had to accompany the old gentleman tohis private cemetery, where he had laid to rest some of his loved ones,of whom he spoke very tenderly. After parting from him we separated. Duringthe afternoon my way led down a creek. Coming to a place where the grasswas all killed out, I started to cross it, without for a moment stoppingto ask the cause. I had not advanced many steps, however, until the causewas made plain by a rattle snake springing from its coil at my right leg,which it would have struck between the ankle and knee, if I had not madea good jump backward, to the great disappointment of his snakeship, whomanifested a great deal of anger, but saved his life by gliding into hishole. Looking around I saw two or three others disappear in the same way.I at once realized that the ground I occupied was full of danger, and atonce beat a hasty retreat. After reaching camp and telling my story, Iwas informed that the number killed along the road during the day was thirteen.From this statement and my own experience, I felt justified in the conclusionthat it was a very snaky country.
The following morning we left our pleasant camp on the Hundred andTwo, and ascending a low bluff our eyes rested on a beautiful expanse ofprairie, and about two miles away a pretty little village named Maryville,then only one year old. It is the county seat of Nodaway county, now aflourishing city of several thousand. About this time word reached us fromthose in charge of our goods that they could not be shipped to Old Ft.Kearney. St. Joseph then became our objective point, and our course southwest.We were now traveling over the best agricultural part of Northwest Missouri.As the lovely picture of these virgin prairies which were photographedon my memory comes up before me, I realize that every man in our traincould have done much better in a worldly sense by locating on land in thissection which had just come into market, than by continuing his journeyto the land of gold; but such was the blind infatuation that had takenpossession of us all, that we could not see the vast wealth which an all-wiseCreator had stored away in these broad acres, only awaiting the skillfultouch of the husbandman to call it forth.
Passing through Nodaway and Holt Counties, we went into camp on thenorthern bank of the Nodaway River. Here we were met by a courier bringingthe good news that our goods had been shipped to Old Fort Kearney. Havingreached this point on Saturday evening, we remained in camp until Mondaymorning. (I will state here that this had been our invariable rule to thepresent and continued to be through our entire journey.) We then facedabout and started for Old Ft. Kearney. This was the last stage of our journeywithin the bounds of civilization. In making it we traveled northwest,again passing over a portion of Holt County, and all of Atchison. We passedthrough Rockport, the County seat which, like all the others in what wasknown as the Platte Purchase, had only kept one birthday.
We reached the eastern bank of the Missouri River about the 8th or9th day of May, and encamped just over the state line in Iowa. Hundredsof men were congregated here waiting to be ferried over the river. We weretaken over on the morning of the 14th, our goods loaded into our wagonsin the afternoon, and all needed preparation made for our long and toilsomejourney. Two officers were elected to have general oversight over the train,selecting the camping ground each evening and guiding it in all its movements.Mr. Manlove, a middle-aged man, was chosen captain, and a young man bythe name of Boring, who had served in the Mexican war, was chosen wagonmaster.
Our feelings on leaving our beautiful camping ground overlookingthe turbulent waters of the Missouri, and giving a fine view of the south-westernborder of Iowa and northwestern border of Missouri, were much like thoseof the mariner who launches his barque on an unknown sea. The dangers hemay meet with are only conceived in the mind, not revealed to the eye.So we know that we had passed beyond the bounds of civilization, and wouldpass over a region inhabited by wild Indians, with here and there a trapper,and infested with beasts of prey; but the result of meeting them was unknownto us, and could only be revealed to the eye by events yet in the future.
CHAPTER THIRD
 Our first day’s journey outside of civilization was made overrolling prairie, and our first camp was on Salt Creek. On the evening ofthe second day we camped at White Oak Point, and our next day’s travelbrought us into the Platte River Valley. There was so much sameness inthe country over which we were passing that it afforded but little interestto the traveler. The principle thing that attracted our attention for severaldays was the large number of new-made graves. Many in their haste startedtoo soon, and were delayed for want of sufficient grass for their oxento subsist on and travel during the day. Cholera broke out among them andmany died. Thus ended their golden dreams when far from the “land of gold.”May we not hope that some of them were permitted to enter that City whosestreets are paved with gold, and where sickness and death can never enter.
One of the difficulties with which we had to contend was lack offuel, another, bad water. Green cottonwood was our principal dependencefor the former and Platte River for the latter. We tried buffalo chipsfor fuel, but decided that they were a failure. We also tried to improvethe Platte water by putting meal into it, but the only thing that settledto the bottom was the corn meal. It had fallen to my lot to do the cookingfor the mess. This caused me to be interested in these two indispensablearticles, and my task was often accomplished with difficulty.
Guard duty was taken up the first night after crossing the MissouriRiver. The wagons were so arranged as to form an enclosure, and the oxen,after grazing in the evening, were driven into it and guarded during thenight. The guard consisted of four men, divided into two reliefs. Therewas much disappointment on the part of many who had anticipated much pleasureand some profit by hunting. We were about the middle of the emigration,and failed to secure any game worth naming, all having been driven offthe range by those who preceded us. The only incident of a serious natureduring our journey up the lower Platte occurred near the upper end of GrandIsland. We had gone into camp on Saturday evening to remain over the Sabbath.In securing wood from the island on Saturday evening one of the company,whose name was Wolfe, came near drowning. He was a physician, the onlyone in the company in whom we had confidence. His death would have beena great loss to us. The only amusing incident during this part of the journeywas a race between a large train from Missouri and our own. During theearly part of the season, the first emigrants in passing over flat ground,made several roads that continued to be traveled just as the leader ofa train elected. It occurred one evening that the Missouri train encampedon one branch of the road and ours on another, about one-quarter of a mileapart, and beyond, about the same distance, the two roads united. The racewas made for this point. The driver of our lead team was a very poor one,and although we had the advantage in distance, the lead team of the Missouritrain struck the junction one yoke of oxen in advance and a cheer wentup along their entire line. The man just behind our lead team was a splendiddriver and was driving the best team in the train. He drew them out ofthe line, had them on the trot in a few moments, and, driving them aheadof our lead team, cut off the Missouri train which thought they had securedthe right of way. Then the cheer passed down our line. Our Missouri friendsgracefully yielded, and the incident passed off pleasantly.
The road over which we passed from the point where we entered thePlatte Valley, to the crossing of the South Platte, was over undulatingprairie, and the season so far advanced that the trail was in good condition.This enabled us to make good time. We reached the ford on the South Platte,which is some distance above the junction with the North Platte, betweenthe first and middle of June. The crossing was effected without a mishap,but the task, to both drivers and teams, was a hard one. The bed of theriver at this point, like the main branch, is nothing but shifting sand,and there was no such thing as stopping to rest. To have done so wouldhave been fatal, resulting in the loss of both teams and wagons with allthat they contained.
Having effected the crossing of the river during the afternoon, wetraveled but a few miles farther and then went into camp. The country atthis point retained the characteristics of that over which we had passed;the only change was that the bluffs were on our right hand instead of ourleft, being a high ridge between the South and North Platte. We had passedover the territory occupied by the Pawnee Indians, who at that time wereat war with the Sioux, by whom they had been almost exterminated. Thisno doubt accounted for their absence from the highway over which so manyemigrants were passing. Our next day’s travel brought us within a few milesof a large village of Sioux. In the evening we were honored by a visitfrom a chief, who was accompanied by a youth of some sixteen or seventeenyears of age. The chief wore good clothes and had a fine silk hat on hishead. He was of medium height and, although an Indian, might be calledgood looking. He could use enough of English to make himself understood,and his manners were such as to impress one in his favor. The youth whowas with him made some amusement for us by carefully examining the facesof two lads who were in our company and showing much merriment over thefact that no beard could be found on their faces. We had not traveled farthe next morning until we began to meet men and women who were very anxiouswe should supply their wants. The articles they desired were asked forby showing samples. In this way requests were made for hard bread, beans,rice, sugar, coffee, tea; in fact everything in the food line in our possessionexcept bacon. One other article was desired by many of these importunatebeggars, the name of which all could pronounce. It was “whiskey,” but this,the most sought for article, was not furnished him by any of our company.Knowing the thirst the Red Men have for intoxicating drink, it does notseem strange that in the bygone days, when they roamed over the plainsat will, they would secure it whenever it was possible and beastialize[sic] themselves by its use: but it does seem strange that in this Christianland, with a perfect knowledge of the terrible evil wrought by its use,there are many who use it and multitudes who directly or indirectly encourageits use. This is done by some through ignorance, by others for want ofthought, but by the majority through selfishness. Love of money and desirefor political preferment are the two great factors which are upholdingthis great evil. If the common people could see this, and allow themselvesto be influenced by common sense and love for those who are suffering fromits use, instead of by self and political party (my party) such a changewould be wrought in our country as would wipe tears from mother’s eyes,fill hungry children’s mouths with bread, empty our prisons of two-fifthsof their inmates, our alms-houses of nine-tenths of their inhabitants,and cause the strikes which are injuring us morally and financially tobe a thing of the past.
We passed through the village before noon, and in the evening wentinto camp some twelve miles beyond it. To all the company it was a daylong to be remembered, not on account of the beauty of the village throughwhich we had passed, or the wealth and intelligence of its inhabitants,but because we had passed through a village of Indian teepees, whose inhabitantswere wild savages. There were some of our number who would remember itfor special reasons, in which they as individuals were concerned. One ofour number, to impress the company with a deep sense of his courage, tookhis gun and went through the hills. On his way he met two Indians. Onehad a gun, the lock of which needed repair. By signs he asked our friendfor his knife, which he without hesitation loaned him. The other one kepthim interested in conversing in the sign language, and by and by, whenhe turned to see how the first was succeeding with repairs, Indian, gun,and knife had vanished. When he returned to the company he had not lostany of his bravado, but he was minus a good knife. Another of the company,by what he considered a good trade, secured half of a buffalo robe whichwould make sleeping delightful, but one night’s repose on it revealed tohim the reason he had secured it for such a small price. It was inhabitedby vermin. Another trade was made by a man who did not belong to our company,but who did want to cheat a poor Indian. It was a horse trade, and, exultingin his good fortune in securing a good horse for a poor one, he was inhaste to place his saddle on its back and mount; but when the Indian removedthe blanket from its back its removal revealed an old sore full of maggots,and the Indian was left in possession of two horses instead of one.
The next day we crossed the plateau, and descended into the valleyof the North Platte. A great change was apparent in the character of thecountry. It was more sandy than in the valley of the lower Platte. Thevalley was from one to six miles wide, and the scenery much more interesting.The grass, however, was not so abundant, and some difficulty was experiencedin securing good camping ground with sufficient grass for the large numberof oxen in our train.
At about this point in our journey, we experienced one of the mostterrific electrical storms I have ever witnessed. It came up from the northwest,just as night was shutting out the landscape from view, and for the spaceof an hour or more the heavens were filled with dazzling light, and onepeal of thunder after another vibrated through the heavens and seemed toshake the ground. One of the company,–an old hunter,–had gone out intothe bluffs in quest of game during the day, and had not returned. Therewas much anxiety for his safety, and in the morning arrangement was madeto send out a searching party, but before they were on their way he cameinto camp. He was in the bluffs during the storm, and had difficulty inpreventing the wolves from making a meal of him. His experience as an oldhunter served him well on this trying occasion.
Two noted landmarks were visited by a number of the company at thispoint in our journey. One was the Court House Rock, the other the ChimneyRock. They are about thirty miles apart and about three miles from theold Oregon trial [sic]. They stood disconnected from the bluff, and hadbeen wrought into the shape they were when we passed up the valley by theaction of the elements. Our encampment for the night being at the nearestpoint to the Court House Rock, we found it only a pleasant walk to itsbase. It is about one hundred and fifty feet to the summit, from whicha fine view is obtained. The ascent is not difficult except at one pointnear the top. The substance of which it is composed is a soft marl, withveins of rock running through it. The top is about forty feet long, andabout twenty wide, and hard as lime stone. The south side is cut into deepgullies by the rain and wind, and would be difficult to ascend. Hundredsof names were cut on places suitable for the purpose, with date of timewhen done, and place from which the inscriber came. After we had satisfiedourselves with the magnificent view from the summit we descended, carvingour names in more than one place before we reached the plain below. Whatthe condition of the strange rock is at the present, I have no knowledge,but I am satisfied that most of the names carved on it have been obliteratedby the hand of time, and the eyes of a large portion of those who lookedwith pride on their handiwork are closed in death.
The next day we passed Chimney Rock, which we also visited. At adistance it appears like a great chimney or funnel, rising from some vaststructure. It was at that time about 500 feet in height, and 300 or 400feet in diameter at the base, and a gradual ascent of one hundred and fiftyfeet to the point where it assumed the form of a chimney. About four daystravel from Chimney Rock brought us to Ft. Laramie, which is located westof the Laramie River. The fort is built of clay or adobe brick. The wallsare about fifteen feet high, surmounted with a wooden palisade, and forma portion of ranges of houses which entirely surround a yard about onehundred and fifty feet square. The fort at the time we passed it belongedto the American Fur Company and was built by them. They had also builta bridge across the Laramie River. No doubt much improvement has been madesince it came into the hands of the government. Passing beyond the fortsome distance, we went into our camp near one of the largest springs Ihave ever seen. The basin in which it rises is about fifteen feet in diameter,and the rivulet flowing from it is a pretty little stream. When we leftcamp the next morning we began to ascend the Black Hills. The ascent wasgradual, and when we had reached the plateau we had a fine view of thesurrounding country. The most prominent object upon which the eye restedwas Laramie’s Peak. It seemed to rise out of a plain, and one not accustomedto guessing distance in the pure atmosphere of the Rocky Mountains wouldplace the distance at twenty or thirty miles, when seventy-five would benearer the mark. Two of our company made an effort to reach it, but aftertraveling towards it for a half day returned, saying that they seemed nonearer to it than when they left camp in the morning. Our second day’stravel over these hills brought us again into the valley of the North Platte,and three or four days more, to where we crossed to the north side of theriver. As it was not fordable, we at once made preparations to ferry ourwagons and goods to the opposite side of the river. We secured two canoesmade of green cottonwood from the company which had just preceded us. Thesewere fastened together, and would carry a small load safely. Two wagonbeds were also fastened together, and with these unwieldy crafts the crossingwas effected in less than two days. The oxen had been forced to swim, themorning of the first day, and were permitted to graze and rest safely guardeduntil the crossing was effected. Although our task was a difficult oneand attended with some danger, all the members of the company renderedcheerful service and found much enjoyment in it.
After two or three days travel from this point we passed over analkali district of some thirty miles and entered the valley of the Sweetwater,some distance from where it empties into the Platte. This was a hard day’stravel both on men and oxen, as all the springs along the way were alkali.We saw two yoke of oxen lying near a spring from which we supposed theyhad drunk, causing their death. We reached the Sweetwater about nine inthe evening, and men and oxen were much refreshed by its pure waters. Ourjourney up this valley was very pleasant. On the evening of July 3rd weencamped near “Rock Independence.” It is an isolated rock standing outin the valley. The name was given to it by a company of emigrants who wereon their way to Oregon and celebrated the 4th at its base. Five miles fromRock Independence is another remarkable way mark, called the “Devil’s Gate.”Here the Sweetwater passes through a ridge of granite. Fremont “placesthe length of the passage at 300 yards, and the width at 35 yards. Thewalls of rock are vertical and about 400 feet high. The stream in the gateis almost entirely choked by masses of rock which have fallen from above.”
About this time a purpose which had been forming in the minds ofsome in the company was consummated. We had noticed many places where therewere small plats of grass that would feed a small herd of cattle, but notsufficient for a large one. This led us to the conclusion that by a fewteams withdrawing from the large train and forming a small one, our oxenwould fare better and we could make better time. The separation havingbeen effected, and the train of which we had been a part and our own beingcamped for a day near each other, we prepared a feast and invited the captainand a few of our friends to dine with us. Among the viands on our billof fare was veal. Some of our men had found a calf which had been lostfrom a train that had preceded us. It was about two months old and in goodorder. Our feast was a success, and some of our friends were present andenjoyed it; but the captain failed to come, which we much regretted, forall respected him, and our withdrawing from the train of which he was incommand was not on account of dissatisfaction with his management whilewe were under his guidance. Our oxen and ourselves were much refreshedby our day’s rest, for it was an extra one; Sabbath having always beena day of rest from our first leaving home. Our journey up the Sweetwaterwas very pleasant. The roads were good, the weather fine, grass and woodabundant, and the scenery beautiful, filling each day with delight. Onboth sides of the valley were low mountains and among the rocks, in manyplaces, scrubby cedars and pines were growing, while, along the river,groves of willow added their share of beauty to the landscape. It was whilepassing over a rising piece of ground in this valley that we had our firstglimpse of the Wind River Mountains. They seemed to be only a dark rangeof successive ridges, rising up against the horizon, some thirty milesaway, but in fact seventy-five, perhaps more.
We made the journey from Rock Independence to Pacific Springs insix days. On the East side of the South Pass, as we were ascending thelast rise, a few of us came to a bank of snow that had not been meltedby the summer’s sun, and for a few moments engaged in snowballing eachother, that we could have it to say that snow balls were made and thrownby us in mid-summer. The South Pass is not what the name would indicate,–anarrow defile between two mountain peaks,–but a plain at least twentymiles from North to South at the extreme of which, on either side, risesa hill marking its limit. From East to West the distance is much greater.
On the evening of the 10th of July we encamped at Pacific Springs.As the name implies, the waters of these springs flow into the Pacificthrough the channels of the Green and Colorado Rivers. It is said, however,that by the changing of a few pebbles their waters could be caused to flowto the Atlantic. And so it is with many human lives,–an incident, a sentenceread, or spoken, a request made by a loved one, has changed their course,some into the straight and narrow path that leads to life, and others fromthe path of virtue into the broad road that leads to death.
The ascent from the Missouri River to the Pass is so gradual thatthe traveler, all unconscious of the fact, stands at an altitude of 7800feet above the level of the sea. The distance from the Missouri River tothe Pass is 900 miles, and from Ft. Laramie 300. The next point on theway was Little Sandy, but we found it only a bed of sand, and without haltingcontinued our journey to Big Sandy, where we found enough water and grassto enable us to go into camp. We remained here the next day and part ofthe day following. This was done to give our oxen rest and an opportunityto graze on the sparse grass of that region, that they might be preparedfor a hard drive over a desert district between Big Sandy and Green River.About 2 o’clock in the afternoon we left camp, and by five in the eveningfound ourselves, for the first time since leaving civilization, in a realdesert. Not a spear of grass was to be seen, or the voice of a living thingto be heard; but as far as our vision extended to the east and south, allwas barren and desolate. The only relief to the weariness of the eye wasthe Wind River mountains, off to our right, but they were so far away thatonly their rugged grandeur could be seen. Our journey across this desertwas a hard one, but not attended with any great danger. The distance wasabout thirty-five miles. We reached Green River in the morning, havingspent the entire night on the way.
Just after the road enters the desert it divides, one branch goingby the way of Granger to Salt Lake, the other, which is called Hudspath’scutoff, crosses the river up higher, and passes through a mountainous districtto Bear River. We had taken the latter route. We had to remain here twoor three days waiting our turn to be ferried over the river. My first nighton guard, after separating from the large company, was spent with my messmate, Henry Taylor, having taken his brother’s place. This brother hadthe habit of being sick when any difficult duty had to be done, but alwaysrecovered very quickly after it had been accomplished. Some attributedit to a cause which was not to his credit, but I will not judge him harshly.I only know that he had a constitutional dislike to hard work or beingexposed to danger, and avoided both on more than one occasion. After ourseparation from the company on Sweetwater, guard duty was more trying,as it consisted of only two men, each standing alone half the night, evenwhen the cattle were taken some distance from camp. During the second daythe oxen were forced to swim the river, and guarded on the west side, wherebetter grass was secured for them. The ferry was in charge of two men whowere Mormons. The boat would carry two wagons at a load. A strong ropewas stretched across the river, which passed over two pulleys with a groovefor the rope to run in. These were fastened to two upright posts whichwere firmly fastened to the boat. The propelling power was the currentof the river. Two dollars were paid for taking over each wagon. Two dayswere spent in waiting, but on the morning of the third we were on our way.
CHAPTER FOUR.
The country between Green and Bear Rivers is mountainous, but ourjourney over it was a pleasant one. The scenery was beautiful, and gaveinterest to each day’s travel. Not being required to do any driving I wasfree to make little excursions to any point near the road that had anyspecial attraction. In this way I found much enjoyment, and have retainedin memory some of the beauties of the region over which we passed. Therewas no timber near the road, but here and there pine forests were seenat a distance. Water was abundant, and wood was obtained without difficulty.There was a sufficiency of grass for the oxen, and pleasant camping groundsby the way, which with a good tent to shelter us, and blankets for beddingwere among our greatest luxuries. We looked into but two human faces whilepassing through this beautiful region, those of a French trapper and hiswife, a half breed Indian. To what extent they were living isolated fromothers we had no means of knowing, but to us who were enjoying companionshipwith each other, their lives seemed to be robbed of much human joy. Thelength of time required by our journey from Green to Bear River I am notable to give, but it only covered a few days. Our journey down Bear Riverwas made without any incident worthy of note, and but two places made adeep impression on my mind. The first on the way was a beautiful valley,several miles in length and two or three in width, covered with a luxuriantgrowth of grass. There was a drove of beautiful horses, about twenty-fivein number, feeding in this valley, the property of an Indian woman, whoseemed to be a person of more than ordinary note among her people. Therewas a trader also located here, but I did not visit his place of businessand do not remember his name.
The other point of interest was Soda Springs. As we did not tarrylong at this point, giving time to examine them closely, I will quote atlength from Capt. Fremont’s Narrative: “The place in which they are situatedis a basin of mineral waters enclosed by the mountains which sweep arounda circular bend of Bear River, here at its most northern point, and which,from a northern, in the course of a few miles, acquires a southern directiontoward the Great Salt Lake. A pretty little stream of clear water entersthe upper part of the basin, from an open valley in the mountains, andpassing through the bottom, discharges into Bear River. Crossing this stream,we descended a mile below, and made our encampment in a grove of cedarimmediately at the Bear Springs, (now called Soda Springs) which on accountof the effervescing gas and acid taste, have received their name from thevoyagers and trappers who in the midst of their rude and hard lives, arefond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuries they rarely havethe fortune to enjoy. Although somewhat disappointed in the expectationswhich various descriptions had lead [sic] me to form of unusual beautyof situation and scenery, I found it altogether a place of great interest;and a traveler for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constantexcitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and new.There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered together in a smallspace. Around the place of encampment the Soda Springs were numerous, butas far as we could ascertain, we were confined entirely to that localityin the bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a space of severalhundred yards, they were very abundant, the effervescing gas rising upand agitating the water in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinityround about were numerous springs of an entirely different and equallymarked mineral character. In a rather picturesque spot, about 1300 yardsbelow our encampment, and immediately on the river bank, is the most remarkablespring of the place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of scatteredwater is thrown up, to a variable height of about three feet, and thoughit is maintained in a constant supply, its greatest height is only attainedat regular intervals, according to the action of the force below. It isaccompanied by a subterranean noise, which together with the motion ofthe water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion, andis called “The Steamboat Spring.” The rock through which it is forced isslightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening in an urn-mouthedform, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from the water, andcolored bright red by oxide of iron.”
Our last encampment on Bear River was but a short distance belowthese springs, at the point where the old Oregon trail turns northwestto Ft. Hall and the Bear River south and continues to flow in that directionuntil it empties into Salt Lake. Here a new cutoff has been made, by whichmuch difficulty was avoided in travel, and many miles gained in distance.Our first day’s travel on this cutoff was a very pleasant one. Beautifulscenery along the way, good water for men and oxen to drink, a pleasantplace to go into camp in the evening, and good grass for the oxen to feedon during the night. At noon on the second day we camped on the bank ofa beautiful brook, in a grove of quaking-asp [sic] trees. On leaving thislovely camping ground after noon tide we neglected to fill our vesselswith water, and suffered for this neglect. We had gone but a few mileswhen we began to ascend a mountain. The ascent was gradual, being up acanon, on the left hand side of which were many small quaking-asp trees.On the smooth bark of one of these a notice had been written, with pencil,by one who had preceded us, consisting of only five words,–“No water fortwenty-five miles.” This important news was somewhat startling, but aswe had passed over more than one district previous to this one which wasdestitute of water, we continued our journey without hesitation. We reachedthe summit of the mountains just as the king of day descended below thewestern horizon. As the descent was steep it was quickly made, and as thedarkness of night settled over us we stood at its base, weary, hungry andthirsty, but neither food nor water was obtainable, and rest not to bethought of under these trying circumstances. We traveled until 12 o’clock,and then laid down and rested until morning. We were again on our way,just as the sun gilded the top of the mountain over which we had passed.The country around us was a barren waste; not a plant nor a blade of grassnor a living thing in sight. As the hours passed, the heat became intense,and our thirst increased every moment, but relief came at last. About 11o’clock a. m. we came to a beautiful oasis, set like a gem in this barrendesert; from the western border of which bubbled up a living fountain ofwater. Here we quenched our thirst, the oxen were freed from their yokesto drink, graze and rest for the remainder of the day, and each mess prepareda bountiful repast by which the hunger of all was satisfied.
But one other point on this part of our journey is distinctly impressedon my memory. It was a stream of water about twenty feet wide and aboutfour feet deep and at the place where we encamped for the night it hadbut little current. I heard no name for it, but no doubt it is a branchof the Snake River, which heads in the region over which we were then passing,and flowing northwest empties into the main branch below Ft. Hall.
The next point distinctly remembered was where the road from SaltLake City connected with the one on which we had traveled. Here a numberof notices had been put up by those who had passed, giving name of thecompany, date when they passed, and signed by the one who had written thenotice. All of these were read, but our comrades from whom we separatedon the Sweetwater were not among them. We put up a notice, giving the dayand date on which we passed, for their information, which was read by themeight days after it was written.
Shortly after passing this point a serious difficulty arose betweenour messmates and the company. Much dissatisfaction had existed in themind of my brother and myself on account of their neglect of duty, especiallyby the elder of the two. The burden thrown on my brother was very heavy,and my duties as cook had to be done at a time that prevented me from renderinghim the assistance he needed. We talked the matter over, and decided topropose a separation on such terms as they could accede to with honor tothemselves and also to us. Accordingly we had a conference with them andmade our proposition, which was, an equal division of all the company propertywhich the wagon contained and the payment of a surplus paid out by us ofthe mess expenses. Our half interest in the wagon we offered to give tothem, and their choice of two out of the four yoke of oxen. Our offer wasrejected in a very unkind spirit by the elder of the two, and we were compelledto continue our journey with them, without any promise of amends for thefuture. Some days after this a Mexican came into our camp and was takeninto our mess, without asking our consent or that of the company. We borewith this patiently, as we had no desire to have trouble with men for whom,before joining our interests with theirs we had entertained a high regard.Trouble, however, did occur between their new found friend and one of thecompany, that came near ending in a serious difficulty. It was avoided,however, and the Mexican shortly afterward took his departure, but thetrouble caused by him only increased the feeling existing in the companyagainst them. This feeling was further increased by their shameful neglectof guard duty, which came near ending in blood-shed. It was prevented,however, and when peace was restored they were informed by the companythat they must accept the offer made to them by the Hindman brothers, andwithdraw from the company. Thus ended a partnership which at first promisedto be very pleasant, but in the end was very bitter, especially to theTaylor brothers. They were compelled to make the remainder of the journeyto the land of gold alone, and encountered much difficulty, not becauseour company cast them off, but by unwisely taking what was representedto be a cutoff, but which added over two hundred miles to the journey.It is with a feeling of pleasure that I am able to state that they returnedto their former home much better off in a worldly sense than when theystarted. The youngest (Harry) became a very useful man. He was an elderin the Presbyterian church of Brooklyn, Illinois. His dust now sleeps inan honored grave, awaiting the summons of the Archangel’s trumpet, to callit forth to a glorious resurrection. Of the elder brother I have no knowledge,but sincerely hope that he became a useful man, and that from his returnto his home and friends he never shirked any duty that was required athis hands.
By our generosity to the Taylor brothers we were left with two yokeof oxen, provision for the remainder of the journey, and our clothing andarms, but no means of conveyance. This, however was made good to us bytwo messes of the company giving us places with them. This, in fact, hadbeen arranged before the separation took place. The only unpleasant thingcause by it was our separation at the mess hour. We, however, spent theevening and night together, having a tent of our own, the only one in thecompany; but members of the mess who had given my brother a place sharedit with us. Our only chance for private intercourse was by joining eachother during the day when no duty was required of us.
The next point of interest was one of the most singular valleys wepassed through during the entire journey. A number of great rocks had beenthrown up from the bowels of the earth by some mighty upheaval, and appearedat the distance like old castles that were being dismantled by the handof time. We did not have an opportunity to examine any of them closely,as they were some distance from the road. I do not remember hearing anyname for this valley; but the name “Castle Valley” would be very appropriate.We were now drawing near a noted way mark, the only one of the kind wepassed during our long journey,–the noted Hot Springs near the head ofthe Humboldt River. It was a beautiful morning on which we crossed theplateau on which this spring is situated. No difficulty was experiencedin finding it, for the air was impregnated with the smell of sulphur bythe fume that ascended from it. We had been told that the water would cookan egg if submerged in it, but our hens were not laying and we had to acceptthe statement as true and pass on to the next place of interest,–the headwaters of the Humboldt River. This is a point which many of the forty-ninershad good reason to remember. An enterprising ranch-man, living near thehead of Feather River, succeeded in marking a road over which wagons couldpass from the head of Humboldt to the Feather River, and by representingit to be much nearer, succeeded in drawing part of the emigration ontoit. His object in doing this was to make money off those who were foolishenough to believe his statement. Instead of being much nearer, it addedabout two hundred miles, and was with good reason called “Greenhorn’s Cut-off.”That part of the company from which we separated on the Sweetwater tookthis route and had great difficulty getting through, part of their oxenbeing stolen by Indians. They did not reach Feather River until November.
The head waters of the Humboldt had a great attraction for us, first,because they were pure and cool, and second, because we had reached thewaters of a river, down the valley of which we would travel between threeand four hundred miles. On our first day’s travel we passed several poolsof water which were warm enough on the surface to be pleasant to bathein, and as they were five or six feet deep and very clear, they were were[sic] quite inviting. We did not, however, partake of the comfort we thoughtthey might afford, but a man belonging to another company did, and tarriedonly a moment in the pool, as he found the water beneath the surface fartoo warm for comfort. Over three weeks were required in passing from thehead waters of this river to the point where they were lost in the greatdesert, but they were among the most pleasant of our entire journey. Theriver was at a low stage when we passed down the valley, and could be fordedat almost any point. The water and grass were good, and wood could be securedwithout difficulty. The mountains on either side of the valley are lowand destitute of timber. The only thing in sight to remind one there weresuch things as trees, was the willows that grew along the river. These,however, were not found in great abundance on the lower part of the stream.
The country through which the Humboldt flows is arid, and unlikeother streams, there are no feeders flowing into it, hence when the snowhas all melted off the low mountains on either side of the valley, andthe ground is being parched by the hot summer’s sun, it absorbs the water,and for the last hundred miles it gradually decreases until it is all takenup by the sands of the desert. We reached the meadows near the sink ofthe Humboldt about the third week in August. These meadows are comprisedof a small level district of country which is thoroughly irrigated by theoverflow of the river during the spring and early part of the summer, causingit to produce a luxuriant growth of grass. There is a lake east of themeadows into which part of the water flows, where some Indians were encamped.Two or three of them visited us, bringing some nice fish with them, whichwere bought by some of our company. We spent two or three days at thesemeadows resting our oxen and making preparation for our journey acrossthe desert. Grass was cut, cured and bound into bundles to feed the oxen,food was prepared for ourselves, some wood secured, and, last but not least,every vessel filled with water. Our preparations being completed, we leftthe meadows about 2 o’clock in the afternoon and reached the sink abouttwenty minutes before the sun had shed its last rays on the most isolatedscene on which our eyes had ever rested. The sink is a pool of black, stagnantwater; and to the east, south and west, we beheld a barren waste upon whichthe stillness of death was resting. I cannot describe my feelings as weentered on this, the most trying and dangerous part of our journey. Notthat I had fears of the ultimate result. I know there were fresh watersand green pastures beyond this barren waste, and there was that withinme that said “you will reach them,” but the desolation which surroundedus, the gloom in which the sun descended below the western horizon andthe coming darkness of night, will never be obliterated from my memory.
There were two roads across this desert, one to Truckee River, theother to Carson River. We took the latter, and, as the night was cool andthe road good, we made about twenty miles by morning. We halted at sunrise,gave each ox a bucket of water and a bundle of hay, prepared and ate ourbreakfast, and in an hour were again on our way. The road was good forseveral miles farther, but at last it faded out, and we entered on themost difficult part of our journey. A large part of the distance is a whitesand in which we sank at each step to our ankle joints. This was very tryingon us, but much more so on our faithful oxen. They not only sank deeperin the sand than we, but had to draw the wagon through besides. By 10 o’clockthe heat was intense and continued to increase until almost evening. About2 o’clock we came to some brackish wells that had been dug by some of thosewho had preceded us. We halted at these and rested our oxen for an hour,but derived but little benefit, as the tendency of the water was to increasethirst instead of allaying it. After leaving this point we traveled continuouslyuntil 11 o’clock p. m., when the Carson River was reached and men and oxenquickly quenched their thirst. Only those who have passed through suchan experience can realize the thrill of joy that fills the breasts of thosewho have overcome such a difficulty and are permitted to drink refreshingwater from the flowing stream, and lie down in green pastures to rest theirbodies, that are exhausted with incessant toil. We were twenty-nine hourscrossing this desert, twenty-seven of which were spent in continuous travel;(counting one and three-quarter miles per hour, it would make the distanceacross it forty-seven miles.)
After a rest of thirty-two hours we resumed our journey. The countrywest of the desert was much like that along the Humboldt. The Carson River,however, is a much smaller stream, but the current is greater, and themountains on the south side of the stream much higher; while on the northside there are none until near the head waters, which flow out of the firstrange of the Sierra Nevadas. Only two incidents are worthy of note duringour journey up this beautiful stream. One was caused by failure to placea guard over the oxen after a hard day’s travel, which did not end untilabout 9 o’clock in the evening. The oxen being very tired and the grazinggood, the wagon master decided that we could pass the night safely withouta guard. This was the only night from the Missouri River to Weaverville,when no guard was on duty, and we suffered loss for this neglect. Whenmorning came arrows were found sticking in two of the oxen, one of whichwe had to kill. Another had been slaughtered about one-half mile from camp,half of it carried away, and the other half put up in a scrubby tree. Wedid not know whether the Indians were prompted by generosity, and concludedto divide with us, or did not have time enough to convey all to their campbefore morning, but I suppose the latter. There was much indignation amongus on account of the injury inflicted, and preparation was at once madeto find and punish the thieves. Twelve of the company went forth from campfully armed, and so imbued with the spirit of revenge that if we had succeededin finding their camp more than one poor digger would have been killed(they were called diggers because they subsisted principally on roots),and some of our own number would more than likely have lost their lives.
Two of our number, who became separated from the main body, ascendeda mountain south of our camp. Near the summit they came to an Indian hutin which was an old man and a lad in his teens. Being very thirsty, theyby signs inquired for water, and were directed to go around the point ofthe mountain and they would find a spring. While they were complying withthe directions, the lad ran to the summit and gave a whoop to notify hisfriends that danger was near, and when our comrades rounded the point theynot only found a spring, but an Indian camp which was constructed of pineboughs and contained thirty or forty Indians. The men put on their quivers,and, seizing their bows, stood ready to defend themselves. our friends,seeing the odds against them, did not stop long enough to get a drink ofwater, but, retiring in good order, returned to camp, and told a very interestingstory. The following morning, when the train left camp, a few of our menascended the mountain and about noon we saw the smoke rolling up from theIndian camp, which had been deserted by them and was set on fire by ourmen. How much better it would have been, and how much more consistent,if, on that day (for it was the Sabbath) we had remained in camp, and madeit a day of thanksgiving instead of going out armed to take revenge onthe poor degraded Indians. It was a great mercy to us that our oxen werenot stampeded, and many of them lost (in place of two or three) which wouldnot only have caused delay, but might have made the remainder of our journeyvery difficult.
Another incident took place a few nights after the one just related,which only concerns myself. Our oxen had been taken about two miles fromcamp to graze during the night. A small company from Iowa had joined withus, and we had a double guard. I came on duty during the second watch (from1 a. m. until morning.) The night was clear and the moon had almost completedthe third quarter, but was giving enough of light to see distinctly. Ihad, however, slept very soundly, and when I was awakened my eyes weresomewhat clouded. We inquired in what direction we would find the cattle,and as they were in two groups we went in opposite directions. I had gonebut a short distance when I saw three or four oxen moving along leisurely,and just behind them an Indian in a crouching position, moving at the samepace. I at once set the hammer of my gun, but the thought of killing ahuman being overwhelmed me. After a moment’s thought I resolved to givehim a chance for his life,–realizing at the same time that more than onemight be near, and that an arrow might at any moment pierce my own flesh,–Iwould, however, be merciful; so I fired one barrel over his head, intendingto shoot him with the other as he ran. The moment I fired, cattle and Indianassumed their real characters,–that of sage brush. I felt very small whenI discovered what a fool I had made of myself, and expected to hear veryoften about being so merciful to an Indian, but it was only mentioned tome once, and I came to the conclusion that others had had similar vision.
 CHAPTER FIVE.
The next point of interest was Carson Valley. It is a beautiful bodyof land, on the east side of the first range of Sierra Nevada mountains.It contains may thousands of acres of rich land, and, when we passed throughit, it was clothed with a thick growth of grass from eighteen inches totwo feet high, and was inhabited by many small snakes, about the colorof the grass. The head waters of Carson River flows into this valley fromthe northwest, through a canon some twelve to fifteen miles long, but wideenough for a good wagon road on the east side. We went into camp at thehead of the valley, close to the mouth of the canon. There were salmontrout in the stream, although it was so narrow that one could jump acrossin it many places. One of our company caught one that weighed three pounds.This catch lead [sic] two of us, the next morning, to go directly up thecanon with hook and line, and fish along the way; but we succeeded in catchingonly two. Having no lunch with us and becoming very hungry, we ate somealder berries of a variety we had never seen before. They were purple incolor and had an acid taste but were very palatable. We regarded the findat the time as quite fortunate, but had reason a few hours later to changeour minds. After reaching camp and preparing the evening meal for the mess,I went on guard with my brother. The oxen being some distance from camp,we went prepared to spend the night. Just as darkness shut out the beautifulmountain scenery around us from view, I was taken with what I thought tobe cholera morus, in a very violent form. Having suffered intensely forseveral hours, and becoming very weak, my brother got me on the only horsebelonging to the company and took me to camp; where we found my companionof the day before suffering the same way, but his case was more seriousthan mine. Whether this difference was caused by his red hair, or, beingunder the doctor’s care was a question I was not able to decide. When morningcame and the train was ready to move, we were made comfortable in the wagonsof our respective messes. By evening we were convalescent, and again tookup the duties required of us. On leaving camp the next morning the strengthof the oxen and the skill of drivers were taxed to the utmost. A very steepascent had to be made, requiring from six to eight yoke of oxen to thewagon. This having been accomplished without mishap the rest of the day’sjourney was very pleasant, and at it’s [sic] close we went into camp atthe foot of the main range of the Sierra Nevada mountains. We had now reachedthe point to which we had been looking with glowing anticipation. We wentinto camp in a small valley at the base of the mountain, and passed thenight in comfort, not withstanding the fact that it was cold enough toform ice on a small lake near our camp. Preparation was made during themorning hour for making the ascent, and by the time the sun had lightedup the eastern slope in all its grandeur, we were on our way. Pine timberskirted the base of the mountain, but as we ascended, it gradually diminished,and by noon we were above timber line. Ice had formed in places from meltingsnows. This melted with the forenoon sun, but by 2 o’clock in the afternoonthe top of the mountain cast its shadows on the eastern slope, and it beganto freeze. We reached the pass a few minutes before sundown, but as thepeaks on the right and left were many hundred feet higher than the pass,the departing rays of the king of the day were shut off from us, and themagnificent scene from the pass was robbed of much of its grandeur. Thealtitude in the pass is 9000 feet. From the pass we descended into a smallvalley, called Rock Valley, and went into camp. The night was colder thanthat spent at the base of the eastern slope, but sheltered by our tentand snugly covered with our blankets, we spent a very pleasant night. Wewere on our way in the morning about our usual time, but had not gone far,when we found the road blocked by two teams of a Missouri train which campedsome distance in advance of us. The rest of their train was not ready tomove. The man in charge of our lead team drove out through the pine treeson the right, and all our wagons without difficulty entered the road beyondthem. We supposed the parties who blocked the road were seeking a quarrel,but as we had quietly passed them, we were not prepared for the foolishdisplay of anger which followed. Two of them, stripped to shirt and pantaloons,ran along the line of our train swearing they could whip any man in thecompany. One of them ran to the front of the train and jumping on a largerock repeated the challenge. One of our number stopped in front of him,and said: “You are in no condition to fight. Look at your knees,” pointingto them with his finger–“You are so angry that they are smiting together.”With an oath he answered, “I can soon whip you.” “That may be true,” wasthe answer, “but I am not going to make such a fool of myself as you aredoing.” “Well,” said he, “it is not you I want to whip, but that red headed—-,”and leaving his perch on the rock he approached the man with the red head,who placed himself in such an attitude of defense, that he returned tohis own company an humbler and we hope a wiser man. How often do men sayand do things of which they are afterward ashamed. This man for some reasonhad become offended at one of my mess mates who had a red head, and tookthis way to pick a quarrel with him; and if that end could not be accomplished,he would fight with anyone who was quarrelsome enough to knock the chipoff his shoulder.
We crossed the main range of the Sierra Nevadas about the 13th ofSeptember, and as a result felt that the last difficulty in our long journeyhad been surmounted. In one week more we would reach the mines, and themembers of the different messes began discussing plans for the future.My brother was with a mess of seven, beside himself One was a physicianand another a carpenter. They were going to Sacramento. Another would engagein hauling goods to the mines. Four intended working in the mines, andwished my brother and I to go in partnership with them, to which he hadgiven his consent. He then sought an interview with me and stated his plans.I could not enter heartily into them, and frankly gave my reasons, whichwere two. First, it would be more enjoyable for us to live by ourselves.Second, in case we secured claims that paid well, they would be all ourown, in place of being divided among six. To these he presented counterobjections. First, a cabin would have to be built in which to spend thewinter, and we could not accomplish the task alone; and second, lack ofmeans to secure a stock of provision sufficient to last through the winter.The last was based on the supposition that during the rainy season no haulingcould be done. To the first, I answered, “We have a good tent, and if wecan do not [sic] better, we can build a small cabin of poles and put thetent on top for a roof.” As to the second, “We have twenty dollars in cash.You have an ox that will sell for twenty-five dollars, and I have a yokethat will sell for forty-five dollars. With this we can secure provisionenough to last several months, and if we cannot dig out enough gold inthat length of time to replenish the stock, then, the sooner we leave thecountry, the better.” He, however, being the elder, his plan was adopted.The last night on guard was spent in Round Valley, some two miles fromcamp. The oxen belonging to several trains had been driven into it, andnone of the guards kept very close watch over them. Camp fires and thefrequent discharge of guns was considered sufficient to protect them fromIndians. The thought that it was the last night I would be required todo guard duty, brought to me a deep sense of relief. Many weary hours hadbeen spent in the discharge of this duty, and no doubt danger was oftennear; but under the sheltering wings of my heavenly Father I was protectedfrom all harm.
We reached Weaverville the 21st of September, and went into campnorth of the village, on a beautiful slope overlooking the north branchof Weaver creek, and facing the mountain range between Weaverville andPlacerville. Five months and eighteen days had been spent in travel, excepton the Sabbath and a few other days made necessary by different causes.Two rivers had been crossed which unite and empty their waters into thegulf of Mexico, and the headwaters of another that empties its waters intothe gulf of California. The Rocky Mountains and the mountains between GreenRiver and Bear River had been crossed. We had traversed the Great Basin,traveling down one of its principal rivers from its head until its watersare lost in the desert. Crossing the desert we ascended another river (Carson,which is lost in the same desert) almost to its source in the Sierra Nevadas.The Sierra Nevada Mountains had been crossed, and a journey of one hundredmiles made down one of the ranges of the western slope. This long journeyof 2000 miles was made with ox teams; without the loss of a man and theloss of but two oxen.
CHAPTER SIXTH
A few days were lost by the illness of one or two members of themess, but preparation was soon made, and a cabin erected which did creditto the builders. The inside of the logs was hewed; it was covered withgood split-board, a chimney was built of poles and mud, a puncheon floorlaid, and a table and benches to match constituted the furniture. Provisionsufficient to last several months was brought from Sacramento. Having madeample preparations for winter, we were ready to do some prospecting.
Our first claim was a small plat of ground in a dry ravine, aboutone hundred yards from the creek. The dirt was dug and carried in sacksand run through the washer. This was a machine very much like the old fashionedcradle in which our mothers had rocked us to sleep during our infancy.On one end of the rocker a screen was placed made of boards about two feetlong and six inches deep, with a bottom of perforated sheet iron, the holesbeing about one half inch in diameter. This screen was fitted into thehead of the washer, being held in place by cleats. A bar, about two incheswide, was placed midway between the head and foot. Another was made atthe foot by cutting out a space for the water and gravel to pass through.The head of the rocker was raised about two or three inches higher thanthe foot. A hole was bored in the bottom just above the bar, and the gravel,sand and gold was passed through it into a pan. The fine gravel and sandwere separated from the gold by a motion of the arms; the edge of the panbeing submerged in the water and by a quick motion raised to the surface.
We took out of our first claim $600, just one hundred to the man.A season of prospecting followed, but before any success was achieved therainy season began. We had not seen a drop of rain for four months anda half, and the first rain interested us greatly, although some of us weremuch inconvenienced by it. We had spent the day prospecting and were aboutseven miles from home when we went into camp for the night. A beautifulIndian summer day had just closed, and the stars looked down on us withtheir dim light, giving promise of quiet sleep and pleasant dreams; butabout 3 o’clock in the morning it began to rain very gently. A hasty breakfastwas prepared, and by the time it was light enough to see it was rainingvery hard. Our walk home was made with difficulty, as our clothes and blanketswere soon saturated, and became very heavy. This was the beginning of therainy season, (about the middle of November) and it continued until January.During this time rain fell almost every day, interspersed with short periodsof sunshine. The temperature was like that of May in the Middle States,and during the short periods of sunshine the birds cheered us with theirmerry songs. Heavy snows drove the deer down into the foot hills, and manyfound pleasure and some profit in hunting. Among the number were two brothers,by the name of Johnston,–John and James. Their last day’s hunt ended ina terrible conflict with a grizzly bear. They were several miles from homewhen the encounter took place. When they first discovered it, both, withouthesitation, fired on it, being ignorant of the fact that grizzly bearswere seldom killed wih [sic] ordinary rifles such as they were using. Theyonly inflicted a slight wound, and the bear retreated and they followed.After going some distance it entered a thicket of chaparral, taking a paththat had been made through it, and the brothers followed. It did not gofar until it doubled on its track but before it met them they stepped outof the path, and as it passed them they placed the muzzle of their gunsagainst its side and fired. Although they inflicted a severe wound it continuedto retreat, and after going quite a distance it passed over a hill andwas hid from view, but came in contact with other hunters,–five in number,–whofired upon it. Again it doubled on its track and came back on the pathon which they were advancing. They stopped and stood side by side, andawaited its approach. When within fifteen steps of them, it turned diagonallyoff the path to pass them, giving them the only chance they had to makea fatal shot, but being ignorant of the fact that the eye is the only pointin a grizzly’s head that a ball fired from an ordinary rifle will penetrateand cause death, they simply aimed at its head and fired. The bear, nowthoroughly angered, turned and rushed upon them. Knocking John down, itseized one of his thighs and commenced lacerating it with its teeth. James,whose gun barrel weighed twelve pounds, clubbed it, shivering the stockthe first blow. Being a strong man, his blows fell so fast and heavy onits head that it released John and seized him. John regaining his feet,grasped the gun barrel that his brother had used so effectively in hisbehalf, and dealt blow after blow on the bear’s head, which had now becomevery tender. It did not endure long until it released James and again seizedhim. Thus the unequal conflict continued until John was down four timesand James three. The last time James was released from the monster’s grasp,he was so exhausted that he could only make an effort to shove it off hisbrother. As he did so it released him, walked off a few steps, turned andgave a savage growl, and then shambled from the field of conflict, leavingthem victors, but badly injured. The flesh of John’s thigh was strippedfrom the bone, and he had received other injuries. James had one arm badlyinjured, but was able to assist his younger brother, David, in taking careof John. I do not know whether he fully recovered or remained a cripplefor life. I write this sketch from personal knowledge, having visited themtwo days after the conflict occurred. The five men who fired on the grizzlyon the opposite side of the hill, and turned it back to the Johnston brothers,came to the top of the hill and from it witnessed the noble fight madeby them, but did not have the courage to come to their assistance. Thereare men today, looking on the conflicts that are being waged against themonster evils that are cursing our land, who, like these men, are eithertoo cowardly or too selfish to render any assistance.
About the first of January three of our mess, Bowring, Stevensonand Cady, went to other diggings, hoping to meet with better success thanthey had in Weaverville. William Loudon remained with us, and two otherswho had crossed with that part of the company which we separated from onthe Sweetwater, came down from Feather River and found shelter with us.About this time a number of men were working at the mouth of a ravine thatemptied into Weaver Creek some distance below our cabin. Hoping to sharein the good fortune we had reason to believe they were enjoying, I wentto the ravine, but found no unoccupied space except the high-ground betweenthe ravine and the creek. Throwing down my shovel and retaining my pick,I commenced digging, remarking to John Lambert–one of the men who hadtaken shelter with us–that I was as likely to strike my fortune at thatpoint as anywhere else. He threw down his tools about ten feet from me,saying, “I will dig here, I am as likely to strike it rich as you are.”As they day was almost passed when I commenced work, little was done thatevening. Returning the next morning I struck slate rock in one corner ofthe excavation which I had made. Taking a pan full of the soft rock andclay that was mixed with it and panning it out, I found it would pay forwashing. Returning to our cabin, I got the washer and by the time I returned,Loudon and my brother had joined me. We had not washed out many bucketsfull until we struck it rich, and when we weighed the amount taken outduring the forenoon, we found that we were three hundred dollars betteroff than when we commenced work in the morning. It rained very hard duringthe afternoon and we remained at home, feeling well satisfied with ourgood fortune. The next morning we took out about three hundred dollarsmore, but by noon our claim ceased to yield any more hidden treasure. Itwas just a small pocket which, by some freak of nature, had been depositedin that particular spot for our benefit, when that great volcanic upheavaltook place, rending the granite rocks of that region and melting the goldfrom the veins of quartz which ran through them. Our friend Lambert andhis partner made excavations on three sides of us, the result of whichwas one piece worth ten dollars. This is a good illustration of the uncertaintyattending the efforts of many who sought their fortune in the gold minesof California in those early days.
Our partners who left us in January returned after a month’s absence,full of hope for the future. Rich mines had been discovered in EldoradoCanon, a tributary of the North Fork of the Middle Fork of the AmericanRiver. Friends had knowledge of its locality, and when the proper timecame would notify them. Preparation was made for the journey, the notificationwas received, and we made a journey of three days, at the end of whichwe found ourselves in a pretty little valley about eighty-four miles fromSacramento. It was called Bird’s Valley. The rich mines we hoped to reachwere still a secret, but we knew they were not far away, and that in duetime their locality would be known and we would be permitted to enter them.
A heavy snow fell a few days after we reached the valley, which wassoon followed by another, and communication with the outside world wascut off for a short time, but not long enough to exhaust the stock of provisionkept in the small trading house located in the valley. Although the snowwas two feet deep around our camp, which was near a swampy plat of ground,in the edge of which was a good spring, yet we did not suffer from cold.Some ice formed at night, but during the day frogs cheered us with theirmusic.
As soon as the trail was open new arrivals were coming into the valleydaily. Gamblers were on hand with a large tent, and were soon doing a profitablebusiness. These men were found where ever there were paying mines; spendingtheir nights in swindling every man who was foolish enough to bet on theirlay-outs. After spending four weeks in idleness, we, with many others,entered the new mines. Our acquaintance had been extended, and by the effortof one of the company with whom we were first associated, a company ofnineteen was organized. Prospecting was done on a large scale. Two richbank diggings were discovered. Out of one we took $2,200.00 in a few days;out of the other $1,500.00. The first one we had to give up, as the claimcovering the stream covered the bank also, and the bed of the stream hadbeen taken by another company. We held, with our other bank claim, seventy-fiveyards of the stream. Preparation was made to drain it. Two of our companywere sent to Sacramento for sailcloth and crowbars: the sailcloth to makea flume, with which to drain the stream, and the crowbars for moving heavyrock. Three widths of sailcloth were sewed together. This required manystitches and consumed a week in its accomplishment. When it was finished,a dam was put in, a gangway laid, the flume laid upon it, and the streamnicely drained the full length of the claim. The bedrock was bare almostthe entire length, and as there were no crevices in the rock, or sand andgravel in which the gold could find a lodgment, our enterprise upon weentered with such glowing anticipation proved a failure. Seventy-five dollarswas the amount taken out, being about thirty-four cents per day to theman, for the time we were engaged in doing the work. This was a great disappointmentto us all, and resulted in the dissolving of the company. It was solventand by selling the flume paid all its debts, but there was no dividendrecovered by the members of the company. Almost the entire amount accumulatedby brother and myself at Weaverville was gone and five months wasted. Atthis juncture I met with the keenest disappointment in all my experiencein the mines. A young man whose name was McNealy, and I, had planned towork out the bank diggings at the upper end of our claim in the bed ofthe stream. We felt satisfied that our men had left more gold in it thanthey had taken out, as at no point had they reached bed rock. Thinkingthat others in the company had taken the same view and would make the sameeffort, we, to accomplish our purpose, went to Bird’s Valley with the companyand remained over night. The next morning we returned to Eldorado Canon,and going on to the claim, we found eleven men engaged in doing what wehad so carefully planned to do. Knowing the foreman of the company, weasked him how it was that they were there at work. his answer was, “WhenDr. Wolfe, your treasurer, sold us the flume, he threw in the claim withit.” This we doubted, but they had possession and were eleven to two, soour bright prospect for ready cash was dashed to the ground. We then sawhow foolish we had acted. If, at the proper time, we had asked the companyfor the claim, it would have been given to us; by failing to do this welost $2,200.00, the amount which these men took out in one day.
Two incidents occurred while we were in Eldorado Canon worthy ofnotice. We had in our company a man whose name was Graves, for whom I hada high regard. He claimed to be a Universalist and took pleasure in airinghis religious beliefs. I had many conversations with him. During one ofthese he have me a sketch of his Christian experience. When a young manserious impressions were made on his mind, and he felt it his duty to unitewith the church. His relatives were Presbyterians and he united with thatbranch of the church. He soon fell into a period of doubt, and decidedto withdraw from the church. “But,” said he, “I did not wish to leave itat once, so I took a step down and joined the Methodist Church. After beingconnected with the Methodist Church for a year I was prepared to take anotherstep down, so I joined the Campbellite Church. After remaining in thatchurch for a year I was prepared to step out.” I have given this statementin his own words. A few days after he made this statement, the water beingtoo high for us to work on our claim, nine of our company started to newdiggings that had been discovered on the south side of the North Fork ofthe Middle Fork of the American River. We went to a point on the rivercalled Horse Shoe Bend, and engaged an old sea captain to ferry us over.Five of our men got into the canoe. There was deep water, causing an eddyat the foot of the Horse Shoe, but the down current was much the stronger.When the canoe reached the line between the down and up current, the captainfailed to change his paddle at the right moment, and it was whirled intothe down current. Below the eddy there was a great bend in the river, andthe current was very swift. One of our men, who was a good waterman, andquick to see the only way of escaping the pending danger, seized a shovel,and, bidding his comrades sit in the bottom of the canoe, the two angledthe current and reached a point of safety about two hundred yards belowthe starting point. Here the canoe came in contact with two small trees,about ten feet from the shore, and went down. The men saved themselvesby climbing these trees and clinging to the limbs. Two of us, as we randown the shore, secured from the side of a small tree a pole long enoughto reach them. We took out Mr. Graves first, saying to him as we did so,”As you have a wife and children at home, and cannot swim, we will takeyou out first.” After rescuing them all from their unpleasant positionwe went into camp and remained until the next morning.
We had in the company a man whose name was Ferguson, who took delightin telling jokes on his comrades. He and Graves were intimate friends.The next morning being chilly, we were all standing round the camp fire.He, as was his custom when he had something interesting to impart, commencedlaughing, “Ah,” said he, “I have a good joke to tell on Graves; he saysthat his Universalism will do to live by, but it will not do to go overthe rapids with. I came to the conclusion last evening that there was ahell and a devil, and I was going to see them very soon.” Mr. Graves joinedwith us in the hearty laugh which we indulged in at his expense, but neveragain did I hear him discussing the doctrine he had formerly advocated.
The other incident to which I have alluded was a sad tragedy, whichoccurred in Bird’s Valley. Four men engaged in a game of poker. All wentwell until midnight, when a quarrel occurred among them. Two left the game,and two continued to play till morning. The name of one was Helms, theother White. They were playing in the Helms brothers’ cabin. When theyclosed the game White was winner and demanded the money. Helms told himthat his brother had their money and he would pay him when he came in.In the meantime the quarrel of the previous night was renewed, and thelie was passed. White drew his revolver and shot Helms through the neck,killing him instantly. As he was falling the brother stepped into the door,and seeing what was done, there was a flash of steel in the morning light,and White, pierced to the heart by the avenger’s knife, died almost atthe same moment as his victim; thus, two, who had degraded themselves bysin, passed into eternity together. They were buried side by side in thelittle cemetery in Bird’s Valley, and their dust is sleeping far away fromthe home of their childhood.
CHAPTER SEVENTH.
The question with my brother and myself now was: What shall we nowdo? We had failed in mining, not because it would not pay, but becausewe had joined our interest with too large a company which was controlledby men who were incompetent. We remained in Bird’s Valley for several weeks.Securing a whip-saw, we sawed out several hundred feet of lumber, and engagedin making pumps and washers. This was profitable for a time, but the demandwas not sufficient to give us constant employment. During this time oneof the company with which we had been connected came to us. He was verymuch discouraged and did not have enough money to buy himself a good dinner.We kept him for a week at an expense of a dollar per day. His name wasH. Clay Rainy. At the end of a week his brother William and Mr. Gravescame into the valley. They had fared much better and were in good spirits.They spent a day or two with us, Mr. Graves paying a debt due us of sixteendollars. They went into a small canon about two miles from the valley calledDutch Gulch. There was a flat in it that had never been thoroughly prospected.Coming to a place where other parties had made an excavation, they sankit deeper, striking a rich deposit of gold. Just at this time we acceptedan offer of two shares in a claim on the North Fork of the Middle Forkof the American River, and knew nothing of their good fortune until someweeks after. They staked out claims and dug them out in six weeks, takingout of them about $10,000 and left for home. Whether others who securedclaims in the flat were also successful, we never learned. We did not succeedin but one thing, that was, finding plenty of hard work to do. We tookout enough to pay for our provisions, but by the first of October all wereso discouraged that most of the company left for other mines. We couldnot reach bedrock on account of water and large rock. If this could havebeen accomplished the result would have been different. Brother and I,after spending a few days in the Valley, went to Sacramento. He was a goodmechanic and could have secured work at good wages, while I, though notas good a mechanic as he, could have found employment also. There was somecholera in the city, and brother was not willing to remain. It was witha sad heart that I turned my face toward our mountain home, where we hadmet with so many disappointments, and our lives had been so destitute ofany real joy. We had spent a Sabbath in the city; had been taken into thechoir of the First Presbyterian Church by one of its members, and joinedour voices with it in singing God’s praise. We had listened to a good sermon,the first and only one we were permitted to hear for over two years.
Precious brother! Why he was so fearful and so quickly turned hisback on those budding joys that would for us have bloomed into beauty,I could not tell. Little did he think that bright morning on which we leftthe city, that he was going back to his mountain home to die.
After returning to Bird’s Valley, we did some prospecting and foundwhere our labors could be made remunerative, but before we had made a thoroughtest our hopes were blighted by sickness and death. About the middle ofDecember brother was taken down with mountain fever, and twenty-four hoursafter I was taken with the same disease, but in a much milder form. Therewas no physician in the Valley. The only one of whom we had any knowledgewas twelve miles away, and we had no friend to go for him or render usany assistance. We left our own house and secured boarding with the onlyman that kept a house of entertainment in the Valley. It, however, waslittle better than our own, and all the care my brother had was given bymy own hands. This was done with great difficulty, but necessity compelledme to do all that I could for his comfort. Once or twice, weak as I was,I had to cut and carry in wood to keep him warm. He lingered three or fourweeks. During that time he suffered a great deal, but without complaining.The morning before he died he dressed himself, and sat up most of the day.Walking to the store in the afternoon he received kind greetings from allthose whom he had the pleasure of meeting. I had almost despaired of hisrecovery, but now hope sprang up anew within me, only to be dashed fromme in a moment. That evening when I lay down by him, he complained of notbeing able to get in any position in which he could rest easy. Thinkingthat it was caused by the efforts he had made during the day, I soon wentto sleep. Waking in the latter part of the night I extended my arm overhim to see if he was covered, and my hand rested on his arm, which wasbare and cold. I felt for his pulse, but it had ceased to beat. I placedmy hand on his heart, and found he was dead. I was overwhelmed with anguishtoo great for tears; but the struggle did not last long. Reason assumedthe throne, and I saw that the rebellion against God in which I was indulgingwas wrong and although stricken with deepest grief, submission to my HeavenlyFather’s will brought relief. A kind German made a coffin out of lumberwe had sawed out during the summer, and in the evening a few friends borehis precious body to a new-made grave, and committed it to the keepingof mother earth, there to sleep, until He who “shall change our vile body,that it may be fashioned like unto His glorious body,” shall on the greatresurrection day raise it up to glory.
Copyright 1999, 2006Robin L. Worth Petersen
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