| CaliforniaGold Rush Experiences |
Excerpts from The Way To My Golden Wedding by David R.Hindman, 1908
The first year in the new home was one of greatprosperity, but when we entered the second the interests of the familybecame divided.
This however, did not mar the home pleasures,for one roof still sheltered all. We all sat around the same table andpartook of God’s
bounty, and father was still priest inhis own home. We went to the same house of God and joined with God’s peoplein public worship; our
church connection being with the PresbyterianChurch of Rushville. Thus time passed pleasantly until the early part ofthe winter of
Forty-nine. News of the discovery of goldin California had at that time reached all parts of our country, and manywere making
preparation to go to this land of untoldwealth, by making a long and dangerous journey across the plains. My elderbrothers and I were
among the victims who were taken with thisstrange disease, which instead of causing pain, gave pleasure. But allcould not go, and as I
had devoted my entire services to my fatherup to this time, I had no means to use in preparing an outfit. This wasprovided by my
brothers, Samuel and James, and I was takenin as a full partner to go with Samuel, James remaining at home to managehis own and his
brother’s business affairs.
A large company was being formed of citizensof Rushville and vicinity, most of whom were young men. These formed themselvesinto
messes of four or five, each bearing anequal share in securing the outfit, which consisted of a wagon, four yokeof oxen, enough
provisions, to the man, to last six months,with what personal property each one wished to take, consisting principallyof 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 thecompany had left Rushville before our preparations were completed, buton the second day of
April all was ready, and on the morningof the third, goodbys were said to all the dear ones, and we entered onour long and dangerous
journey. Little did we think that morning,that one of us would never again meet the dear ones on earth.
Our first day’s travel covered but a fewmiles. Rain fell during the afternoon, and being poor ox drivers–noneof us having had any
experience in the art–we stranded on ahill up which we had to carry part of our goods, and when this was accomplishedevening had
come. That night we slept in a recliningposition and in our wet clothes. This was not much like sleeping in mother’sfeather bed, but we
were on our way to the land of gold, andthe recompense to be secured at the end of the journey would outweigh allthe 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 betweenCarthage and Warsaw, and we encountered much bad road. Thinking it wouldbe better to
turn out on the prairie sod, we did so,and soon found ourselves located on a claim that we did not wish to hold,but could not vacate
without carrying a large portion of ourgoods to the only dry ground in sight, which was about sixty yards distant.When this was done,
night had come. The oxen were chained tothe wagon wheels and fed, a cup of coffee made for each man, and with hardbread to match we
made our supper. After a comfortable night’srest we partook of the same kind of fare for breakfast, and left our pleasantcamping
ground, which seemed to have been placedjust where it was for our special benefit. We reached Warsaw without encounteringany more
difficulty, where we found the companyencamped. At this point all our heavy goods were shipped by steamboat toSt. Joseph by way of
St. Louis, two responsible men being sentin charge of them. After waiting two or three days we were ferried overthe Mississippi River,
which at that time was very high, and encampedon the commons near the village of Alexander, Missouri. The next morningwe made all
needed preparation to reach the bluffsin safety. Our wagon beds were raised up by putting blocks under them tokeep them above the
water. A guide was employed to pilot usthrough the water, and after traveling six miles, dry land was reached,and when three more were
added to the day’s journey, we found apleasant place to camp.
From this point to the Missouri River, ourjourney was made with ease and enjoyment. Most of the country over whichwe passed was
prairie, and the range of vision in someplaces almost unlimited. This, with the budding of nature into the beautiesof spring, gave a charm
to all upon which the eye rested. As weintended crossing the Missouri River at old Fort Kearney our course wasdue west, but lack of
roads and bridges over the many streamswe had to cross, caused us to vary our course, and part of the journeywas 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, whose name was Kellogg, had bought out the Mormons and wasthen on the
ground, and spent the day among us. Heseemed to be embittered against all Christian influence, and was readyto discuss his infidel
views with anyone who would give him anopportunity. He was but a sample of many who would rather herd with theungodly on the
outskirts of civilization, than live ina community controlled by Christian influence. From this point we traveledsouthwest, and Tuesday
afternoon passed through Bethany, the countyseat of Harrison County, Missouri, then a village about one year old.
A few days after this one of my mess matesand I left the train in the morning to spend the day in hunting. On thispart of our journey the
houses were few, but about noon one wassighted. This was our only chance to obtain dinner. The family consistedof father, mother and
three daughters. Being from “Old Virginia,”their hospitality prompted them to spread the table with a bountiful repast,consisting of
corn dodgers, fat bacon and butter-milk.Remuneration for this bountiful dinner was refused. After saying good byeto the ladies we had
to accompany the old gentleman to his privatecemetery, where he had laid to rest some of his loved ones, of whom hespoke very
tenderly. After parting from him we separated.During the afternoon my way led down a creek. Coming to a place where thegrass was all
killed out, I started to cross it, withoutfor a moment stopping to ask the cause. I had not advanced many steps,however, until the cause
was made plain by a rattle snake springingfrom its coil at my right leg, which it would have struck between the ankleand knee, if I had
not made a good jump backward, to the greatdisappointment of his snakeship, who manifested a great deal of anger,but saved his life by
gliding into his hole. Looking around Isaw two or three others disappear in the same way. I at once realized thatthe ground I occupied
was full of danger, and at once beat ahasty retreat. After reaching camp and telling my story, I was informedthat 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 pleasantcamp on the Hundred and Two, and ascending a low bluff our eyes restedon a beautiful
expanse of prairie, and about two milesaway a pretty little village named Maryville, then only one year old. Itis the county seat of
Nodaway county, now a flourishing cityof several thousand. About this time word reached us from those in chargeof our goods that they
could not be shipped to Old Ft. Kearney.St. Joseph then became our objective point, and our course southwest. Wewere now traveling
over the best agricultural part of NorthwestMissouri. As the lovely picture of these virgin prairies which were photographedon my
memory comes up before me, I realize thatevery man in our train could have done much better in a worldly sense bylocating on land in
this section which had just come into market,than by continuing his journey to the land of gold; but such was the blindinfatuation that had
taken possession of us all, that we couldnot see the vast wealth which an all-wise Creator had stored away in thesebroad acres, only
awaiting the skillful touch of the husbandmanto call it forth.
Passing through Nodaway and Holt Counties,we went into camp on the northern bank of the Nodaway River. Here we weremet by a
courier bringing the good news that ourgoods had been shipped to Old Fort Kearney. Having reached this point onSaturday evening, we
remained in camp until Monday morning.(I will state here that this had been our invariable rule to the presentand 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 wetraveled northwest, again passing over a portion of Holt County, and allof Atchison. We passed
through Rockport, the County seat which,like all the others in what was known as the Platte Purchase, had onlykept one birthday.
We reached the eastern bank of the MissouriRiver about the 8th or 9th day of May, and encamped just over the stateline in Iowa.
Hundreds of men were congregated here waitingto be ferried over the river. We were taken over on the morning of the14th, our goods
loaded into our wagons in the afternoon,and all needed preparation made for our long and toilsome journey. Twoofficers 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, anda young man by the name of Boring, who had served in the Mexican war, waschosen wagon
master.
Our feelings on leaving our beautiful campingground overlooking the turbulent waters of the Missouri, and giving a fineview of the
south-western border of Iowa and northwesternborder of Missouri, were much like those of the mariner who launches hisbarque on an
unknown sea. The dangers he may meet withare only conceived in the mind, not revealed to the eye. So we know thatwe had passed
beyond the bounds of civilization, andwould pass over a region inhabited by wild Indians, with here and therea trapper, and infested with
beasts of prey; but the result of meetingthem was unknown to us, and could only be revealed to the eye by eventsyet in the future.
Our first day’s journey outside of civilizationwas made over rolling prairie, and our first camp was on Salt Creek. Onthe evening of the
second day we camped at White Oak Point,and our next day’s travel brought us into the Platte River Valley. Therewas so much
sameness in the country over which we werepassing that it afforded but little interest to the traveler. The principlething that attracted
our attention for several days was thelarge number of new-made graves. Many in their haste started too 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 “landof gold.” May we not hope that some of them were permitted to enter thatCity whose
streets are paved with gold, and wheresickness and death can never enter.
One of the difficulties with which we hadto contend was lack of fuel, another, bad water. Green cottonwood was ourprincipal dependence
for the former and Platte River for thelatter. We tried buffalo chips for fuel, but decided that they were a failure.We also tried to
improve the Platte water by putting mealinto it, but the only thing that settled to the bottom was the corn meal.It had fallen to my lot to
do the cooking for the mess. This causedme to be interested in these two indispensable articles, and my task wasoften accomplished
with difficulty.
Guard duty was taken up the first nightafter crossing the Missouri River. The wagons were so arranged as to forman enclosure, and the
oxen, after grazing in the evening, weredriven into it and guarded during the night. The guard consisted of fourmen, divided into two
reliefs. There was much disappointmenton the part of many who had anticipated much pleasure and some profit byhunting. We were
about the middle of the emigration, andfailed to secure any game worth naming, all having been driven off therange by those who
preceded us. The only incident of a seriousnature during our journey up the lower Platte occurred near the upper endof Grand Island.
We had gone into camp on Saturday eveningto remain over the Sabbath. In securing wood from the island on Saturdayevening one of
the company, whose name was Wolfe, camenear drowning. He was a physician, the only one in the company in whomwe had confidence.
His death would have been a great lossto us. The only amusing incident during this part of the journey was arace between a large train
from Missouri and our own. During the earlypart of the season, the first emigrants in passing over flat ground, madeseveral roads that
continued to be traveled just as the leaderof a train elected. It occurred one evening that the Missouri train encampedon one branch of
the road and ours on another, about one-quarterof a mile apart, and beyond, about the same distance, the two roads united.The race was
made for this point. The driver of ourlead team was a very poor one, and although we had the advantage in distance,the lead team of the
Missouri train struck the junction oneyoke of oxen in advance and a cheer went up along their entire line. Theman just behind our lead
team was a splendid driver and was drivingthe best team in the train. He drew them out of the line, had them on thetrot in a few
moments, and, driving them ahead of ourlead team, cut off the Missouri train which thought they had secured theright of way. Then the
cheer passed down our line. Our Missourifriends gracefully yielded, and the incident passed off pleasantly.
The road over which we passed from the pointwhere we entered the Platte Valley, to the crossing of the South Platte,was over
undulating prairie, and the season so faradvanced that the trail was in good condition. This enabled us to makegood time. We reached
the ford on the South Platte, which issome distance above the junction with the North Platte, between the firstand 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 andwagons with all that they contained.
Having effected the crossing of the riverduring the afternoon, we traveled but a few miles farther and then wentinto camp. The country
at this point retained the characteristicsof that over which we had passed; the only change was that the bluffs wereon our right hand
instead of our left, being a high ridgebetween the South and North Platte. We had passed over the territory occupiedby the Pawnee
Indians, who at that time were at war withthe Sioux, by whom they had been almost exterminated. This no doubt accountedfor their
absence from the highway over which somany emigrants were passing. Our next day’s travel brought us within afew miles of a large
village of Sioux. In the evening we werehonored by a visit from a chief, who was accompanied by a youth of somesixteen or seventeen
years of age. The chief wore good clothesand had a fine silk hat on his head. He was of medium height and, althoughan Indian, might be
called good looking. He could use enoughof English to make himself understood, and his manners were such as toimpress one in his
favor. The youth who was with him madesome amusement for us by carefully examining the faces of two lads whowere in our company
and showing much merriment over the factthat no beard could be found on their faces. We had not traveled far thenext morning until we
began to meet men and women who were veryanxious we should supply their wants. The articles they desired were askedfor by showing
samples. In this way requests were madefor hard bread, beans, rice, sugar, coffee, tea; in fact everything inthe food line in our
possession except bacon. One other articlewas desired by many of these importunate beggars, the name of which allcould pronounce. It
was “whiskey,” but this, the most soughtfor article, was not furnished him by any of our company. Knowing the thirstthe Red Men have
for intoxicating drink, it does not seemstrange that in the bygone days, when they roamed over the plains at 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 wroughtby its use, there are many who use it and multitudes who directly or indirectlyencourage its use.
This is done by some through ignorance,by others for want of thought, but by the majority through selfishness.Love of money and desire
for political preferment are the two greatfactors which are upholding this great evil. If the common people couldsee this, and allow
themselves to be influenced by common senseand love for those who are suffering from its use, instead of by self andpolitical party (my
party) such a change would be wrought inour country as would wipe tears from mother’s eyes, fill hungry children’smouths with bread,
empty our prisons of two-fifths of theirinmates, our alms-houses of nine-tenths of their inhabitants, and causethe 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 went into camp some twelve miles beyond it. To all thecompany it was a
day long to be remembered, not on accountof the beauty of the village through which we had passed, or the wealthand intelligence of its
inhabitants, but because we had passedthrough a village of Indian teepees, whose inhabitants were wild savages.There were some of
our number who would remember it for specialreasons, in which they as individuals were concerned. One of our number,to impress the
company with a deep sense of his courage,took his gun and went through the hills. On his way he met two Indians.One had a gun, the
lock of which needed repair. By signs heasked our friend for his knife, which he without hesitation loaned him.The other one kept him
interested in conversing in the sign language,and by and by, when he turned to see how the first was succeeding withrepairs, Indian, gun,
and knife had vanished. When he returnedto the company he had not lost any of his bravado, but he was minus a goodknife. Another of
the company, by what he considered a goodtrade, secured half of a buffalo robe which would make sleeping delightful,but one night’s
repose on it revealed to him the reasonhe had secured it for such a small price. It was inhabited by vermin. Anothertrade 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, hewas in haste to place his saddle on its back and mount; but when the Indianremoved the blanket
from its back its removal revealed an oldsore full of maggots, and the Indian was left in possession of two horsesinstead of one.
The next day we crossed the plateau, anddescended into the valley of the North Platte. A great change was apparentin the character of
the country. It was more sandy than inthe valley of the lower Platte. The valley was from one to six miles wide,and the scenery much
more interesting. The grass, however, wasnot so abundant, and some difficulty was experienced in securing good campingground with
sufficient grass for the large number ofoxen in our train.
At about this point in our journey, we experiencedone of the most terrific electrical storms I have ever witnessed. It cameup from the
northwest, just as night was shutting outthe landscape from view, and for the space of an hour or more the heavenswere filled with
dazzling light, and one peal of thunderafter another vibrated through the heavens and seemed to shake the ground.One of the
company,–an old hunter,–had gone outinto the bluffs in quest of game during the day, and had not returned.There was much anxiety for
his safety, and in the morning arrangementwas made to send out a searching party, but before they were on their wayhe came into
camp. He was in the bluffs during the storm,and had difficulty in preventing the wolves from making a meal of him.His experience as an
old hunter served him well on this tryingoccasion.
Two noted landmarks were visited by a numberof the company at this point in our journey. One was the Court House Rock,the other the
Chimney Rock. They are about thirty milesapart and about three miles from the old Oregon trial [sic]. They stooddisconnected from the
bluff, and had been wrought into the shapethey were when we passed up the valley by the action of the elements. Ourencampment for
the night being at the nearest point tothe Court House Rock, we found it only a pleasant walk to its base. Itis about one hundred and
fifty feet to the summit, from which afine 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 intodeep gullies by the rain and wind, and would be difficult to ascend. Hundredsof names were cut
on places suitable for the purpose, withdate of time when done, and place from which the inscriber came. Afterwe had satisfied
ourselves with the magnificent view fromthe summit we descended, carving our names in more than one place beforewe reached the
plain below. What the condition of thestrange rock is at the present, I have no knowledge, but I am satisfiedthat most of the names
carved on it have been obliterated by thehand of time, and the eyes of a large portion of those who looked withpride on their handiwork
are closed in death.
The next day we passed Chimney Rock, whichwe also visited. At a distance it appears like a great chimney or funnel,rising from some
vast structure. It was at that time about500 feet in height, and 300 or 400 feet in diameter at the base, and agradual ascent of one
hundred and fifty feet to the point whereit assumed the form of a chimney. About four days travel from Chimney Rockbrought us to Ft.
Laramie, which is located west of the LaramieRiver. The fort is built of clay or adobe brick. The walls are about fifteenfeet high,
surmounted with a wooden palisade, andform a portion of ranges of houses which entirely surround a yard aboutone hundred and fifty
feet square. The fort at the time we passedit belonged to the American Fur Company and was built by them. They hadalso built a bridge
across the Laramie River. No doubt muchimprovement has been made since it came into the hands of the government.Passing beyond
the fort some distance, we went into ourcamp near one of the largest springs I have ever seen. The basin in whichit rises is about fifteen
feet in diameter, and the rivulet flowingfrom it is a pretty little stream. When we left camp the next morning webegan to ascend the
Black Hills. The ascent was gradual, andwhen we had reached the plateau we had a fine view of the surrounding 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 theRocky Mountains would place the distance at twenty or thirty miles, whenseventy-five would be
nearer the mark. Two of our company madean effort to reach it, but after traveling towards it for a half day returned,saying that they
seemed no nearer to it than when they leftcamp in the morning. Our second day’s travel over these hills brought usagain into the valley
of the North Platte, and three or fourdays more, to where we crossed to the north side of the river. As it wasnot fordable, we at once
made preparations to ferry our wagons andgoods to the opposite side of the river. We secured two canoes made ofgreen cottonwood
from the company which had just precededus. These were fastened together, and would carry a small load safely.Two wagon beds were
also fastened together, and with theseunwieldy crafts the crossing was effected in less than two days. The oxenhad been forced to swim,
the morning of the first day, and werepermitted to graze and rest safely guarded until the crossing was effected.Although our task was a
difficult one and attended with some danger,all the members of the company rendered cheerful service and found muchenjoyment in it.
After two or three days travel from thispoint we passed over an alkali district of some thirty miles and enteredthe valley of the
Sweetwater, some distance from where itempties into the Platte. This was a hard day’s travel both on men and oxen,as all the springs
along the way were alkali. We saw two yokeof oxen lying near a spring from which we supposed they had drunk, causingtheir death. We
reached the Sweetwater about nine in theevening, and men and oxen were much refreshed by its pure waters. Our journeyup this valley
was very pleasant. On the evening of July3rd we encamped near “Rock Independence.” It is an isolated rock standingout in the valley.
The name was given to it by a company ofemigrants who were on their way to Oregon and celebrated the 4th at itsbase. Five miles from
Rock Independence is another remarkableway mark, called the “Devil’s Gate.” Here the Sweetwater passes througha ridge of granite.
Fremont “places the length of the passageat 300 yards, and the width at 35 yards. The walls of rock are verticaland about 400 feet high.
The stream in the gate is almost entirelychoked by masses of rock which have fallen from above.”
About this time a purpose which had beenforming in the minds of some in the company was consummated. We had noticedmany places
where there were small plats of grass thatwould feed a small herd of cattle, but not sufficient for a large one.This led us to the
conclusion that by a few teams withdrawingfrom the large train and forming a small one, our oxen would fare betterand we could make
better time. The separation having beeneffected, and the train of which we had been a part and our own being campedfor a day near
each other, we prepared a feast and invitedthe captain and a few of our friends to dine with us. Among the viandson our bill of fare was
veal. Some of our men had found a calfwhich had been lost from a train that had preceded us. It was about twomonths old and in good
order. Our feast was a success, and someof our friends were present and enjoyed it; but the captain failed to come,which we much
regretted, for all respected him, and ourwithdrawing from the train of which he was in command was not on accountof dissatisfaction with
his management while we were under hisguidance. Our oxen and ourselves were much refreshed by our day’s rest,for it was an extra
one; Sabbath having always been a day ofrest from our first leaving home. Our journey up the Sweetwater was verypleasant. The roads
were good, the weather fine, grass andwood abundant, and the scenery beautiful, filling each day with delight.On both sides of the valley
were low mountains and among the rocks,in many places, scrubby cedars and pines were growing, while, along theriver, groves of willow
added their share of beauty to the landscape.It was while passing over a rising piece of ground in this valley thatwe had our first glimpse
of the Wind River Mountains. They seemedto be only a dark range of successive ridges, rising up against the horizon,some thirty miles
away, but in fact seventy-five, perhapsmore.
We made the journey from Rock Independenceto Pacific Springs in six days. On the East side of the South Pass, aswe were ascending
the last rise, a few of us came to a bankof snow that had not been melted by the summer’s sun, and for a few momentsengaged in
snowballing each other, that we could haveit to say that snow balls were made and thrown by us in mid-summer. TheSouth Pass is not
what the name would indicate,–a narrowdefile between two mountain peaks,–but a plain at least twenty miles fromNorth 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 encampedat Pacific Springs. As the name implies, the waters of these springs flowinto the Pacific
through the channels of the Green and ColoradoRivers. It is said, however, that by the changing of a few pebbles theirwaters could be
caused to flow to the Atlantic. And soit is with many human lives,–an incident, a sentence read, or spoken,a request made by a loved
one, has changed their course, some intothe straight and narrow path that leads to life, and others from the pathof virtue into the broad
road that leads to death.
The ascent from the Missouri River to thePass is so gradual that the traveler, all unconscious of the fact, standsat an altitude of 7800
feet above the level of the sea. The distancefrom the Missouri River to the Pass is 900 miles, and from Ft. Laramie300. The next point
on the way was Little Sandy, but we foundit only a bed of sand, and without halting continued our journey to BigSandy, where we found
enough water and grass to enable us togo into camp. We remained here the next day and part of the day following.This was done to give
our oxen rest and an opportunity to grazeon the sparse grass of that region, that they might be prepared for a harddrive 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 real desert. Not a spear of grass was to be seen, or the voice ofa living thing to be heard;
but as far as our vision extended to theeast and south, all was barren and desolate. The only relief to the wearinessof the eye was the
Wind River mountains, off to our right,but they were so far away that only their rugged grandeur could be seen.Our journey across this
desert was a hard one, but not attendedwith any great danger. The distance was about thirty-five miles. We reachedGreen River in the
morning, having spent the entire nighton the way.
Just after the road enters the desert itdivides, one branch going by the way of Granger to Salt Lake, the other,which is called
Hudspath’s cutoff, crosses the river uphigher, and passes through a mountainous district to Bear River. We hadtaken the latter route.
We had to remain here two or three dayswaiting our turn to be ferried over the river. My first night on guard,after separating from the
large company, was spent with my mess mate,Henry Taylor, having taken his brother’s place. This brother had the habitof being sick
when any difficult duty had to be done,but always recovered very quickly after it had been accomplished. Someattributed it to a cause
which was not to his credit, but I willnot judge him harshly. I only know that he had a constitutional disliketo hard work or being exposed
to danger, and avoided both on more thanone occasion. After our separation from the company on Sweetwater, guardduty was more
trying, as it consisted of only two men,each standing alone half the night, even when the cattle were taken somedistance from camp.
During the second day the oxen were forcedto swim the river, and guarded on the west side, where better grass wassecured 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 pulleyswith a groove for the rope to run in. These were fastened to two uprightposts which were firmly
fastened to the boat. The propelling powerwas the current of the river. Two dollars were paid for taking over eachwagon. Two days were
spent in waiting, but on the morning ofthe third we were on our way.
The country between Green and Bear Riversis mountainous, but our journey over it was a pleasant one. The scenerywas beautiful, and
gave interest to each day’s travel. Notbeing required to do any driving I was free to make little excursions toany point near the road
that had any special attraction. In thisway I found much enjoyment, and have retained in memory some of the beautiesof the region over
which we passed. There was no timber nearthe road, but here and there pine forests were seen at a distance. Waterwas abundant, and
wood was obtained without difficulty. Therewas a sufficiency of grass for the oxen, and pleasant camping grounds bythe way, which with
a good tent to shelter us, and blanketsfor bedding were among our greatest luxuries. We looked into but two humanfaces while passing
through this beautiful region, those ofa French trapper and his wife, a half breed Indian. To what extent theywere living isolated from
others we had no means of knowing, butto us who were enjoying companionship with each other, their lives seemedto be robbed of much
human joy. The length of time requiredby our journey from Green to Bear River I am not able to give, but it onlycovered a few days.
Our journey down Bear River was made withoutany incident worthy of note, and but two places made a deep impressionon 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-five in number, feeding in this valley, the property of anIndian woman, who seemed
to be a person of more than ordinary noteamong her people. There was a trader also located here, but I did not visithis place of business
and do not remember his name.
The other point of interest was Soda Springs.As we did not tarry long at this point, giving time to examine them closely,I will quote at
length from Capt. Fremont’s Narrative:”The place in which they are situated is a basin of mineral waters enclosedby the mountains
which sweep around a circular bend of BearRiver, here at its most northern point, and which, from a northern, inthe course of a few
miles, acquires a southern direction towardthe Great Salt Lake. A pretty little stream of clear water enters the upperpart 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 ina grove of cedar immediately at the Bear Springs, (now called Soda Springs)which on account
of the effervescing gas and acid taste,have received their name from the voyagers and trappers who in the midstof their rude and hard
lives, are fond of finding some fanciedresemblance to the luxuries they rarely have the fortune to enjoy. Althoughsomewhat
disappointed in the expectations whichvarious descriptions had lead [sic] me to form of unusual beauty of situationand 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 remarkableand new. There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered togetherin a small space. Around
the place of encampment the Soda Springswere numerous, but as far as we could ascertain, we were confined entirelyto that locality in
the bottom. In the bed of the river, infront, for a space of several hundred yards, they were very abundant, theeffervescing gas rising up
and agitating the water in countless bubblingcolumns. In the vicinity round about were numerous springs of an entirelydifferent and
equally marked mineral character. In arather picturesque spot, about 1300 yards below our encampment, and immediatelyon the river
bank, is the most remarkable spring ofthe place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of scattered wateris 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 is accompanied by a subterranean noise, which together with the motionof the water, makes
very much the impression of a steamboatin motion, and is called “The Steamboat Spring.” The rock through whichit is forced is slightly
raised in a convex manner, and gatheredat the opening in an urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continueddeposition from
the water, and colored bright red by oxideof iron.”
Our last encampment on Bear River was buta short distance below these springs, at the point where the old Oregontrail turns northwest
to Ft. Hall and the Bear River south andcontinues to flow in that direction until it empties into Salt Lake. Herea new cutoff has been
made, by which much difficulty was avoidedin travel, and many miles gained in distance. Our first day’s travel onthis cutoff was a very
pleasant one. Beautiful scenery along theway, good water for men and oxen to drink, a pleasant place to go intocamp in the evening,
and good grass for the oxen to feed onduring the night. At noon on the second day we camped on the bank of abeautiful brook, in a
grove of quaking-asp [sic] trees. On leavingthis lovely camping ground after noon tide we neglected to fill our vesselswith water, and
suffered for this neglect. We had gonebut a few miles when we began to ascend a mountain. The ascent was gradual,being up a canon,
on the left hand side of which were manysmall quaking-asp trees. On the smooth bark of one of these a notice hadbeen written, with
pencil, by one who had preceded us, consistingof only five words,–“No water for twenty-five miles.” This important newswas somewhat
startling, but as we had passed over morethan one district previous to this one which was destitute of water, wecontinued our journey
without hesitation. We reached the summitof the mountains just as the king of day descended below the western 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 restnot to be thought of under these trying circumstances. We traveled until12 o’clock, and then laid
down and rested until morning. We wereagain on our way, just as the sun gilded the top of the mountain over whichwe had passed. The
country around us was a barren waste; nota plant nor a blade of grass nor a living thing in sight. As the hourspassed, the heat became
intense, and our thirst increased everymoment, but relief came at last. About 11 o’clock a. m. we came to a beautifuloasis, set like a
gem in this barren desert; from the westernborder of which bubbled up a living fountain of water. Here we quenchedour thirst, the oxen
were freed from their yokes to drink, grazeand rest for the remainder of the day, and each mess prepared a bountifulrepast by which the
hunger of all was satisfied.
But one other point on this part of ourjourney is distinctly impressed on my memory. It was a stream of waterabout twenty feet wide and
about four feet deep and at the place wherewe encamped for the night it had but little current. I heard no name forit, but no doubt it is a
branch of the Snake River, which headsin the region over which we were then passing, and flowing northwest emptiesinto the main
branch below Ft. Hall.
The next point distinctly remembered waswhere the road from Salt Lake City connected with the one on which we hadtraveled. Here a
number of notices had been put up by thosewho had passed, giving name of the company, date when they passed, andsigned by the one
who had written the notice. All of thesewere read, but our comrades from whom we separated on the Sweetwater werenot among them.
We put up a notice, giving the day anddate on which we passed, for their information, which was read by themeight days after it was
written.
Shortly after passing this point a seriousdifficulty arose between our messmates and the company. Much dissatisfactionhad existed in
the mind of my brother and myself on accountof their neglect of duty, especially by the elder of the two. The burdenthrown on my
brother was very heavy, and my duties ascook had to be done at a time that prevented me from rendering him theassistance he needed.
We talked the matter over, and decidedto propose a separation on such terms as they could accede to with honorto themselves and also
to us. Accordingly we had a conferencewith them and made our proposition, which was, an equal division of allthe company property
which the wagon contained and the paymentof a surplus paid out by us of the mess expenses. Our half interest inthe wagon we offered
to give to them, and their choice of twoout of the four yoke of oxen. Our offer was rejected in a very unkind spiritby the elder of the two,
and we were compelled to continue our journeywith them, without any promise of amends for the future. Some days afterthis a Mexican
came into our camp and was taken into ourmess, without asking our consent or that of the company. We bore with thispatiently, as we
had no desire to have trouble with menfor whom, before joining our interests with theirs we had entertained ahigh regard. Trouble,
however, did occur between their new foundfriend and one of the company, that came near ending in a serious difficulty.It was avoided,
however, and the Mexican shortly afterwardtook his departure, but the trouble caused by him only increased the feelingexisting in the
company against them. This feeling wasfurther increased by their shameful neglect of guard duty, which came nearending in blood-shed.
It was prevented, however, and when peacewas restored they were informed by the company that they must accept theoffer made to
them by the Hindman brothers, and withdrawfrom the company. Thus ended a partnership which at first promised to bevery pleasant,
but in the end was very bitter, especiallyto the Taylor brothers. They were compelled to make the remainder of thejourney to the land of
gold alone, and encountered much difficulty,not because our company cast them off, but by unwisely taking what wasrepresented to be a
cutoff, but which added over two hundredmiles to the journey. It is with a feeling of pleasure that I am able tostate that they returned to
their former home much better off in aworldly sense than when they started. The youngest (Harry) became a veryuseful man. He was an
elder in the Presbyterian church of Brooklyn,Illinois. His dust now sleeps in an honored grave, awaiting the summonsof the Archangel’s
trumpet, to call it forth to a gloriousresurrection. Of the elder brother I have no knowledge, but sincerely hopethat he became a useful
man, and that from his return to his homeand friends he never shirked any duty that was required at his hands.
By our generosity to the Taylor brotherswe were left with two yoke of oxen, provision for the remainder of thejourney, and our clothing
and arms, but no means of conveyance. This,however was made good to us by two messes of the company giving us placeswith them.
This, in fact, had been arranged beforethe separation took place. The only unpleasant thing cause by it was ourseparation at the mess
hour. We, however, spent the evening andnight together, having a tent of our own, the only one in the company;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 themost singular valleys we passed through during the entire journey. A numberof great rocks had
been thrown up from the bowels of the earthby some mighty upheaval, and appeared at the distance like old castlesthat were being
dismantled by the hand of time. We didnot have an opportunity to examine any of them closely, as they were somedistance from the
road. I do not remember hearing any namefor this valley; but the name “Castle Valley” would be very appropriate.We were now
drawing near a noted way mark, the onlyone of the kind we passed during our long journey,–the noted Hot Springsnear the head of the
Humboldt River. It was a beautiful morningon which we crossed the plateau on which this spring is situated. No difficultywas
experienced in finding it, for the airwas impregnated with the smell of sulphur by the fume that ascended fromit. We had been told that
the water would cook an egg if submergedin it, but our hens were not laying and we had to accept the statementas true and pass on to
the next place of interest,–the head watersof the Humboldt River. This is a point which many of the forty-niners hadgood reason to
remember. An enterprising ranch-man, livingnear the head of Feather River, succeeded in marking a road over whichwagons could pass
from the head of Humboldt to the FeatherRiver, and by representing it to be much nearer, succeeded in drawing partof the emigration
onto it. His object in doing this was tomake money off those who were foolish enough to believe his statement.Instead of being much
nearer, it added about two hundred miles,and was with good reason called “Greenhorn’s Cut-off.” That part of thecompany from which
we separated on the Sweetwater took thisroute and had great difficulty getting through, part of their oxen beingstolen by Indians. They
did not reach Feather River until November.
The head waters of the Humboldt had a greatattraction for us, first, because they were pure and cool, and second,because we had
reached the waters of a river, down thevalley of which we would travel between three and four hundred miles. Onour first day’s travel
we passed several pools of water whichwere warm enough on the surface to be pleasant to bathe in, and as theywere 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, andtarried only a moment in the pool, as he found the water beneath the surfacefar too warm for
comfort. Over three weeks were requiredin passing from the head waters of this river to the point where they werelost in the great
desert, but they were among the most pleasantof our entire journey. The river was at a low stage when we passed downthe valley, and
could be forded at almost any point. Thewater and grass were good, and wood could be secured without difficulty.The mountains on
either side of the valley are low and destituteof timber. The only thing in sight to remind one there were such thingsas 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 flowsis arid, and unlike other streams, there are no feeders flowing into it,hence when the
snow has all melted off the low mountainson either side of the valley, and the ground is being parched by the hotsummer’s sun, it
absorbs the water, and for the last hundredmiles it gradually decreases until it is all taken up by the sands of thedesert. We reached the
meadows near the sink of the Humboldt aboutthe third week in August. These meadows are comprised of a small leveldistrict of country
which is thoroughly irrigated by the overflowof the river during the spring and early part of the summer, causing itto produce a luxuriant
growth of grass. There is a lake east ofthe meadows into which part of the water flows, where some Indians wereencamped. Two or
three of them visited us, bringing somenice fish with them, which were bought by some of our company. We spenttwo or three days at
these meadows resting our oxen and makingpreparation for our journey across the desert. Grass was cut, cured andbound into bundles
to feed the oxen, food was prepared forourselves, some wood secured, and, last but not least, every vessel filledwith water. Our
preparations being completed, we left themeadows about 2 o’clock in the afternoon and reached the sink about twentyminutes before
the sun had shed its last rays on the mostisolated scene on which our eyes had ever rested. The sink is a pool ofblack, stagnant water;
and to the east, south and west, we behelda barren waste upon which the stillness of death was resting. I cannotdescribe my feelings as
we entered on this, the most trying anddangerous part of our journey. Not that I had fears of the ultimate result.I know there were fresh
waters and green pastures beyond this barrenwaste, and there was that within me that said “you will reach them,” butthe desolation
which surrounded us, the gloom in whichthe sun descended below the western horizon and the coming darkness ofnight, will never be
obliterated from my memory.
There were two roads across this desert,one to Truckee River, the other to Carson River. We took the latter, and,as the night was cool
and the road good, we made about twentymiles by morning. We halted at sunrise, gave each ox a bucket of waterand a bundle of hay,
prepared and ate our breakfast, and inan hour were again on our way. The road was good for several miles farther,but at last it faded
out, and we entered on the most difficultpart of our journey. A large part of the distance is a white sand in whichwe 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’clock the heat was intense and continued to increase until almostevening. About 2
o’clock we came to some brackish wellsthat had been dug by some of those who had preceded us. We halted at theseand rested our
oxen for an hour, but derived but littlebenefit, as the tendency of the water was to increase thirst instead ofallaying it. After leaving this
point we traveled continuously until 11o’clock p. m., when the Carson River was reached and men and oxen quicklyquenched their
thirst. Only those who have passed throughsuch an experience can realize the thrill of joy that fills the breastsof those who have
overcome such a difficulty and are permittedto drink refreshing water from the flowing stream, and lie down in greenpastures to rest
their bodies, that are exhausted with incessanttoil. We were twenty-nine hours crossing this desert, twenty-seven of whichwere spent in
continuous travel; (counting one and three-quartermiles per hour, it would make the distance across it forty-seven miles.)
After a rest of thirty-two hours we resumedour journey. The country west of the desert was much like that along theHumboldt. The
Carson River, however, is a much smallerstream, but the current is greater, and the mountains on the south sideof the stream much
higher; while on the north side there arenone until near the head waters, which flow out of the first range of theSierra 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 notend until about 9 o’clock in the evening. The oxen being very tired andthe grazing good, the
wagon master decided that we could passthe night safely without a guard. This was the only night from the MissouriRiver to
Weaverville, when no guard was on duty,and we suffered loss for this neglect. When morning came arrows were foundsticking in two of
the oxen, one of which we had to kill.Another had been slaughtered about one-half mile from camp, half of itcarried away, and the other
half put up in a scrubby tree. We did notknow whether the Indians were prompted by generosity, and concluded todivide with us, or did
not have time enough to convey all to theircamp before morning, but I suppose the latter. There was much indignationamong us on
account of the injury inflicted, and preparationwas at once made to find and punish the thieves. Twelve of the companywent forth from
camp fully armed, and so imbued with thespirit of revenge that if we had succeeded in finding their camp more thanone poor digger
would have been killed (they were calleddiggers because they subsisted principally on roots), and some of our ownnumber would more
than likely have lost their lives.
Two of our number, who became separatedfrom the main body, ascended a mountain south of our camp. Near the summitthey came to
an Indian hut in which was an old man anda lad in his teens. Being very thirsty, they by signs inquired for water,and were directed to go
around the point of the mountain and theywould find a spring. While they were complying with the directions, thelad ran to the summit
and gave a whoop to notify his friendsthat danger was near, and when our comrades rounded the point they notonly found a spring, but
an Indian camp which was constructed ofpine boughs and contained thirty or forty Indians. The men put on theirquivers, and, seizing
their bows, stood ready to defend themselves.our friends, seeing the odds against them, did not stop long enough toget a drink of water,
but, retiring in good order, returned tocamp, and told a very interesting story. The following morning, when thetrain left camp, a few of
our men ascended the mountain and aboutnoon we saw the smoke rolling up from the Indian camp, which had been desertedby them and
was set on fire by our men. How much betterit would have been, and how much more consistent, if, on that day (forit was the Sabbath)
we had remained in camp, and made it aday of thanksgiving instead of going out armed to take revenge on the poordegraded 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 remainderof our journey very difficult.
Another incident took place a few nightsafter the one just related, which only concerns myself. Our oxen had beentaken about two miles
from camp to graze during the night. Asmall company from Iowa had joined with us, and we had a double guard.I came on duty during
the second watch (from 1 a. m. until morning.)The night was clear and the moon had almost completed the third quarter,but was giving
enough of light to see distinctly. I had,however, slept very soundly, and when I was awakened my eyes were somewhatclouded. We
inquired in what direction we would findthe cattle, and as they were in two groups we went in opposite directions.I had gone but a short
distance when I saw three or four oxenmoving along leisurely, and just behind them an Indian in a crouching position,moving at the
same pace. I at once set the hammer ofmy gun, but the thought of killing a human being overwhelmed me. Aftera moment’s thought I
resolved to give him a chance for his life,–realizingat the same time that more than one might be near, and that an arrow mightat any
moment pierce my own flesh,–I would, however,be merciful; so I fired one barrel over his head, intending to shoot himwith the other as
he ran. The moment I fired, cattle andIndian assumed their real characters,–that of sage brush. I felt verysmall when I discovered what
a fool I had made of myself, and expectedto hear very often about being so merciful to an Indian, but it was onlymentioned to me once,
and I came to the conclusion that othershad had similar vision.
The next point of interest was Carson Valley.It is a beautiful body of land, on the east side of the first range ofSierra Nevada
mountains. It contains may thousands ofacres of rich land, and, when we passed through it, it was clothed witha thick growth of grass
from eighteen inches to two feet high,and was inhabited by many small snakes, about the color of the grass. Thehead waters of Carson
River flows into this valley from the northwest,through a canon some twelve to fifteen miles long, but wide enough fora good wagon road
on the east side. We went into camp atthe head of the valley, close to the mouth of the canon. There were salmontrout in the stream,
although it was so narrow that one couldjump across in it many places. One of our company caught one that weighedthree pounds. This
catch lead [sic] two of us, the next morning,to go directly up the canon with hook and line, and fish along the way;but we succeeded in
catching only two. Having no lunch withus and becoming very hungry, we ate some alder berries of a variety wehad never seen before.
They were purple in color and had an acidtaste but were very palatable. We regarded the find at the time as quitefortunate, but had
reason a few hours later to change ourminds. After reaching camp and preparing the evening meal for the mess,I went on guard with my
brother. The oxen being some distance fromcamp, we went prepared to spend the night. Just as darkness shut out thebeautiful mountain
scenery around us from view, I was takenwith what I thought to be cholera morus, in a very violent form. Havingsuffered intensely for
several hours, and becoming very weak,my brother got me on the only horse belonging to the company and took meto camp; where we
found my companion of the day before sufferingthe same way, but his case was more serious than mine. Whether this differencewas
caused by his red hair, or, being underthe doctor’s care was a question I was not able to decide. When morningcame and the train was
ready to move, we were made comfortablein the wagons of our respective messes. By evening we were convalescent,and again took up
the duties required of us. On leaving campthe next morning the strength of the oxen and the skill of drivers weretaxed to the utmost. A
very steep ascent had to be made, requiringfrom six to eight yoke of oxen to the wagon. This having been accomplishedwithout mishap
the rest of the day’s journey was verypleasant, and at it’s [sic] close we went into camp at the foot of themain range of the Sierra
Nevada mountains. We had now reached thepoint to which we had been looking with glowing anticipation. We went intocamp in a small
valley at the base of the mountain, andpassed the night in comfort, not withstanding the fact that it was coldenough to form ice on a
small lake near our camp. Preparation wasmade during the morning hour for making the ascent, and by the time thesun had lighted up
the eastern slope in all its grandeur,we were on our way. Pine timber skirted the base of the mountain, but aswe ascended, it gradually
diminished, and by noon we were above timberline. Ice had formed in places from melting snows. This melted with theforenoon sun, but
by 2 o’clock in the afternoon the top ofthe mountain cast its shadows on the eastern slope, and it began to 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 fromus, and the magnificent scene from the pass was robbed of much of its grandeur.The altitude in the
pass is 9000 feet. From the pass we descendedinto a small valley, called Rock Valley, and went into camp. The nightwas colder than
that spent at the base of the eastern slope,but sheltered by our tent and snugly covered with our blankets, we spenta very pleasant
night. We were on our way in the morningabout our usual time, but had not gone far, when we found the road blockedby two teams of a
Missouri train which camped some distancein advance of us. The rest of their train was not ready to move. The manin 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 seekinga quarrel, but as we had quietly passed them, we were not prepared forthe foolish display
of anger which followed. Two of them, strippedto shirt and pantaloons, ran along the line of our train swearing theycould whip any man in
the company. One of them ran to the frontof the train and jumping on a large rock repeated the challenge. One ofour number stopped in
front of him, and said: “You are in nocondition to fight. Look at your knees,” pointing to them with his finger–“Youare so angry that
they are smiting together.” With an oathhe answered, “I can soon whip you.” “That may be true,” was the 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 manwith the red head, who placed himself in such an attitude of defense, thathe returned to his own
company an humbler and we hope a wiserman. How often do men say and do things of which they are afterward ashamed.This man for
some reason had become offended at oneof my mess mates who had a red head, and took this way to pick a quarrelwith him; and if that
end could not be accomplished, he wouldfight with anyone who was quarrelsome enough to knock the chip off hisshoulder.
We crossed the main range of the SierraNevadas about the 13th of September, and as a result felt that the lastdifficulty in our long
journey had been surmounted. In one weekmore we would reach the mines, and the members of the different messesbegan discussing
plans for the future. My brother was witha mess of seven, beside himself One was a physician and another a carpenter.They were going
to Sacramento. Another would engage inhauling goods to the mines. Four intended working in the mines, and wishedmy brother and I to
go in partnership with them, to which hehad given his consent. He then sought an interview with me and stated hisplans. I could not
enter heartily into them, and frankly gavemy reasons, which were two. First, it would be more enjoyable for us tolive by ourselves.
Second, in case we secured claims thatpaid well, they would be all our own, in place of being divided among six.To these he presented
counter objections. First, a cabin wouldhave to be built in which to spend the winter, and we could not accomplishthe task alone; and
second, lack of means to secure a stockof provision sufficient to last through the winter. The last was basedon the supposition that
during the rainy season no hauling couldbe done. To the first, I answered, “We have a good tent, and if we cando 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, andI have a yoke that will sell for forty-five dollars. With this we can secureprovision enough to last
several months, and if we cannot dig outenough gold in that length of time to replenish the stock, then, the soonerwe leave the country,
the better.” He, however, being the elder,his plan was adopted. The last night on guard was spent in Round Valley,some two miles from
camp. The oxen belonging to several trainshad been driven into it, and none of the guards kept very close watch overthem. Camp fires
and the frequent discharge of guns wasconsidered sufficient to protect them from Indians. The thought that itwas the last night I would
be required to do guard duty, brought tome a deep sense of relief. Many weary hours had been spent in the dischargeof this duty, and
no doubt danger was often near; but underthe sheltering wings of my heavenly Father I was protected from all harm.
We reached Weaverville the 21st of September,and went into camp north of the village, on a beautiful slope overlookingthe north
branch of Weaver creek, and facing themountain range between Weaverville and Placerville. Five months and eighteendays had been
spent in travel, except on the Sabbathand a few other days made necessary by different causes. Two rivers hadbeen crossed which unite
and empty their waters into the gulf ofMexico, and the headwaters of another that empties its waters into thegulf of California. The
Rocky Mountains and the mountains betweenGreen River and Bear River had been crossed. We had traversed the GreatBasin,
traveling down one of its principal riversfrom its head until its waters are lost in the desert. Crossing the desertwe ascended another
river (Carson, which is lost in the samedesert) almost to its source in the Sierra Nevadas. The Sierra Nevada Mountainshad been
crossed, and a journey of one hundred milesmade down one of the ranges of the western slope. This long journey of2000 miles was
made with ox teams; without the loss ofa man and the loss of but two oxen.
A few days were lost by the illness of oneor two members of the mess, but preparation was soon made, and a cabinerected which did
credit to the builders. The inside of thelogs was hewed; it was covered with good split-board, a chimney was builtof poles and mud, a
puncheon floor laid, and a table and benchesto match constituted the furniture. Provision sufficient to last severalmonths was brought
from Sacramento. Having made ample preparationsfor winter, we were ready to do some prospecting.
Our first claim was a small plat of groundin a dry ravine, about one hundred yards from the creek. The dirt was dugand carried in sacks
and run through the washer. This was amachine very much like the old fashioned cradle in which our mothers hadrocked us to sleep
during our infancy. On one end of the rockera screen was placed made of boards about two feet long and six inches deep,with a bottom
of perforated sheet iron, the holes beingabout one half inch in diameter. This screen was fitted into the head ofthe 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 passthrough. The head of the rocker was raised about two or three inches higherthan the foot. A
hole was bored in the bottom just abovethe bar, and the gravel, sand and gold was passed through it into a pan.The fine gravel and sand
were separated from the gold by a motionof the arms; the edge of the pan being submerged in the water and by aquick motion raised to
the surface.
We took out of our first claim $600, justone hundred to the man. A season of prospecting followed, but before anysuccess was achieved
the rainy season began. We had not seena drop of rain for four months and a half, and the first rain interestedus greatly, although some
of us were much inconvenienced by it. Wehad spent the day prospecting and were about seven miles from home whenwe went into camp
for the night. A beautiful Indian summerday had just closed, and the stars looked down on us with their dim light,giving promise of quiet
sleep and pleasant dreams; but about 3o’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 wasraining very hard. Our walk home was made with difficulty, as our clothesand blankets were soon
saturated, and became very heavy. Thiswas the beginning of the rainy season, (about the middle of November) andit continued until
January. During this time rain fell almostevery day, interspersed with short periods of sunshine. The temperaturewas like that of May
in the Middle States, and during the shortperiods of sunshine the birds cheered us with their merry songs. Heavysnows drove the deer
down into the foot hills, and many foundpleasure and some profit in hunting. Among the number were two brothers,by the name of
Johnston,–John and James. Their last day’shunt ended in a terrible conflict with a grizzly bear. They were severalmiles from home when
the encounter took place. When they firstdiscovered it, both, without hesitation, fired on it, being ignorant ofthe fact that grizzly bears
were seldom killed wih [sic] ordinary riflessuch as they were using. They only inflicted a slight wound, and the bearretreated and they
followed. After going some distance itentered a thicket of chaparral, taking a path that had been made throughit, and the brothers
followed. It did not go far until it doubledon its track but before it met them they stepped out of the path, and asit passed them they
placed the muzzle of their guns againstits side and fired. Although they inflicted a severe wound it continuedto retreat, and after going
quite a distance it passed over a hilland was hid from view, but came in contact with other hunters,–five innumber,–who fired upon it.
Again it doubled on its track and cameback on the path on which they were advancing. They stopped and stood sideby side, and awaited
its approach. When within fifteen stepsof them, it turned diagonally off the path to pass them, giving them theonly chance they had to
make a fatal shot, but being ignorant ofthe fact that the eye is the only point in a grizzly’s head that a ballfired from an ordinary rifle will
penetrate and cause death, they simplyaimed at its head and fired. The bear, now thoroughly angered, turned andrushed upon them.
Knocking John down, it seized one of histhighs and commenced lacerating it with its teeth. James, whose gun barrelweighed 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 hisfeet, grasped the gun barrel that his brother had used so effectively inhis behalf, and dealt blow
after blow on the bear’s head, which hadnow become very tender. It did not endure long until it released Jamesand again seized him.
Thus the unequal conflict continued untilJohn was down four times and James three. The last time James was releasedfrom the
monster’s grasp, he was so exhausted thathe could only make an effort to shove it off his brother. As he did soit released him, walked
off a few steps, turned and gave a savagegrowl, and then shambled from the field of conflict, leaving them victors,but badly injured. The
flesh of John’s thigh was stripped fromthe bone, and he had received other injuries. James had one arm badly injured,but was able to
assist his younger brother, David, in takingcare of John. I do not know whether he fully recovered or remained a cripplefor life. I write
this sketch from personal knowledge, havingvisited them two days after the conflict occurred. The five men who firedon the grizzly on
the opposite side of the hill, and turnedit back to the Johnston brothers, came to the top of the hill and fromit witnessed the noble fight
made by them, but did not have the courageto come to their assistance. There are men today, looking on the conflictsthat are being
waged against the monster evils that arecursing our land, who, like these men, are either too cowardly or too selfishto render any
assistance.
About the first of January three of ourmess, Bowring, Stevenson and Cady, went to other diggings, hoping to meetwith better success
than they had in Weaverville. William Loudonremained with us, and two others who had crossed with that part of thecompany which we
separated from on the Sweetwater, camedown from Feather River and found shelter with us. About this time a numberof men were
working at the mouth of a ravine that emptiedinto Weaver Creek some distance below our cabin. Hoping to share in thegood fortune we
had reason to believe they were enjoying,I went to the ravine, but found no unoccupied space except the high-groundbetween the ravine
and the creek. Throwing down my shoveland retaining my pick, I commenced digging, remarking to John Lambert–oneof the men who
had taken shelter with us–that I was aslikely to strike my fortune at that point as anywhere else. He threw downhis tools about ten feet
from me, saying, “I will dig here, I amas likely to strike it rich as you are.” As they day was almost passedwhen I commenced work,
little was done that evening. Returningthe next morning I struck slate rock in one corner of the excavation whichI had made. Taking a
pan full of the soft rock and clay thatwas mixed with it and panning it out, I found it would pay for washing.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 takenout during the forenoon, we found that we were three hundred dollars betteroff than when
we commenced work in the morning. It rainedvery hard during the afternoon and we remained at home, feeling well satisfiedwith our
good fortune. The next morning we tookout about three hundred dollars more, but by noon our claim ceased to yieldany more hidden
treasure. It was just a small pocket which,by some freak of nature, had been deposited in that particular spot forour benefit, when that
great volcanic upheaval took place, rendingthe granite rocks of that region and melting the gold from the veins ofquartz which ran
through them. Our friend Lambert and hispartner made excavations on three sides of us, the result of which wasone piece worth ten
dollars. This is a good illustration ofthe uncertainty attending the efforts of many who sought their fortunein the gold mines of California
in those early days.
Our partners who left us in January returnedafter a month’s absence, full of hope for the future. Rich mines had beendiscovered in
Eldorado Canon, a tributary of the NorthFork of the Middle Fork of the American River. Friends had knowledge ofits locality, and when
the proper time came would notify them.Preparation was made for the journey, the notification was received, andwe made a journey of
three days, at the end of which we foundourselves in a pretty little valley about eighty-four miles from Sacramento.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 enterthem.
A heavy snow fell a few days after we reachedthe valley, which was soon followed by another, and communication withthe outside world
was cut off for a short time, but not longenough to exhaust the stock of provision kept in the small trading houselocated in the valley.
Although the snow was two feet deep aroundour camp, which was near a swampy plat of ground, in the edge of whichwas a good spring,
yet we did not suffer from cold. Some iceformed at night, but during the day frogs cheered us with their music.
As soon as the trail was open new arrivalswere coming into the valley daily. Gamblers were on hand with a large tent,and were soon
doing a profitable business. These menwere found where ever there were paying mines; spending their nights inswindling 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 bythe effort of one of the company with whom we were first associated, acompany of nineteen was
organized. Prospecting was done on a largescale. Two rich bank diggings were discovered. Out of one we took $2,200.00in a few days;
out of the other $1,500.00. The first onewe had to give up, as the claim covering the stream covered the bank also,and the bed of the
stream had been taken by another company.We held, with our other bank claim, seventy-five yards of the stream. Preparationwas made
to drain it. Two of our company were sentto Sacramento for sailcloth and crowbars: the sailcloth to make a 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 laidupon it, and the stream
nicely drained the full length of the claim.The bedrock was bare almost the entire length, and as there were no crevicesin the rock, or
sand and gravel in which the gold couldfind a lodgment, our enterprise upon we entered with such glowing anticipationproved a failure.
Seventy-five dollars was the amount takenout, being about thirty-four cents per day to the man, for the time wewere 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 andfive months wasted. At this juncture I met with the keenest disappointmentin all my experience
in the mines. A young man whose name wasMcNealy, and I, had planned to work out the bank diggings at the upperend of our claim in
the bed of the stream. We felt satisfiedthat our men had left more gold in it than they had taken out, as at nopoint had they reached bed
rock. Thinking that others in the companyhad taken the same view and would make the same effort, we, to accomplishour purpose, went
to Bird’s Valley with the company and remainedover night. The next morning we returned to Eldorado Canon, and going onto the claim,
we found eleven men engaged in doing whatwe had so carefully planned to do. Knowing the foreman of the company,we asked him how
it was that they were there at work. hisanswer was, “When Dr. Wolfe, your treasurer, sold us the flume, he threwin the claim with it.”
This we doubted, but they had possessionand were eleven to two, so our bright prospect for ready cash was dashedto the ground. We
then saw how foolish we had acted. If,at the proper time, we had asked the company for the claim, it would havebeen given to us; by
failing to do this we lost $2,200.00, theamount which these men took out in one day.
Two incidents occurred while we were inEldorado Canon worthy of notice. We had in our company a man whose namewas Graves, for
whom I had a high regard. He claimed tobe a Universalist and took pleasure in airing his religious beliefs. Ihad many conversations with
him. During one of these he have me a sketchof his Christian experience. When a young man serious impressions weremade 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 being connected with the Methodist Church for a year I was preparedto take another
step down, so I joined the CampbelliteChurch. After remaining in that church for a year I was prepared to stepout.” I have given this
statement in his own words. A few daysafter he made this statement, the water being too high for us to work onour claim, nine of our
company started to new diggings that hadbeen discovered on the south side of the North Fork of the Middle Forkof 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, causingan eddy at the foot of the Horse Shoe, but the down current was much thestronger. When the
canoe reached the line between the downand up current, the captain failed to change his paddle at the right moment,and it was whirled
into the down current. Below the eddy therewas a great bend in the river, and the current was very swift. One of ourmen, who was a
good waterman, and quick to see the onlyway of escaping the pending danger, seized a shovel, and, bidding his comradessit in the
bottom of the canoe, the two angled thecurrent and reached a point of safety about two hundred yards below thestarting 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 ofus, as we ran down the shore, secured from the side of a small tree a polelong enough to reach
them. We took out Mr. Graves first, sayingto him as we did so, “As you have a wife and children at home, and cannotswim, we will take
you out first.” After rescuing them allfrom their unpleasant position we went into camp and remained until thenext morning.
We had in the company a man whose name wasFerguson, who took delight in telling jokes on his comrades. He and Graveswere
intimate friends. The next morning beingchilly, we were all standing round the camp fire. He, as was his customwhen he had something
interesting to impart, commenced laughing,”Ah,” said he, “I have a good joke to tell on Graves; he says that hisUniversalism 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 formerlyadvocated.
The other incident to which I have alludedwas a sad tragedy, which occurred in Bird’s Valley. Four men engaged ina game of poker. All
went well until midnight, when a quarreloccurred among them. Two left the game, and two continued to play tillmorning. The name of
one was Helms, the other White. They wereplaying in the Helms brothers’ cabin. When they closed the game White waswinner and
demanded the money. Helms told him thathis brother had their money and he would pay him when he came in. In themeantime the
quarrel of the previous night was renewed,and the lie was passed. White drew his revolver and shot Helms throughthe neck, killing him
instantly. As he was falling the brotherstepped into the door, and seeing what was done, there was a flash of steelin the morning light,
and White, pierced to the heart by theavenger’s knife, died almost at the same moment as his victim; thus, two,who had degraded
themselves by sin, passed into eternitytogether. They were buried side by side in the little cemetery in Bird’sValley, and their dust is
sleeping far away from the home of theirchildhood.
The question with my brother and myselfnow was: What shall we now do? We had failed in mining, not because itwould not pay, but
because we had joined our interest withtoo large a company which was controlled by men who were incompetent. Weremained in Bird’s
Valley for several weeks. Securing a whip-saw,we sawed out several hundred feet of lumber, and engaged in making pumpsand
washers. This was profitable for a time,but the demand was not sufficient to give us constant employment. Duringthis time one of the
company with which we had been connectedcame to us. He was very much discouraged and did not have enough moneyto buy himself a
good dinner. We kept him for a week atan expense of a dollar per day. His name was H. Clay Rainy. At the endof a week his brother
William and Mr. Graves came into the valley.They had fared much better and were in good spirits. They spent a day ortwo 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 thoroughlyprospected. Coming to a place where other parties had made an excavation,they sank it
deeper, striking a rich deposit of gold.Just at this time we accepted an offer of two shares in a claim on theNorth Fork of the Middle
Fork of the American River, and knew nothingof their good fortune until some weeks after. They staked out claims anddug them out in
six weeks, taking out of them about $10,000and left for home. Whether others who secured claims in the flat were alsosuccessful, we
never learned. We did not succeed in butone thing, that was, finding plenty of hard work to do. We took out enoughto pay for our
provisions, but by the first of Octoberall were so discouraged that most of the company left for other mines.We could not reach bedrock
on account of water and large rock. Ifthis could have been accomplished the result would have been different.Brother and I, after
spending a few days in the Valley, wentto Sacramento. He was a good mechanic and could have secured work at goodwages, while I,
though not as good a mechanic as he, couldhave found employment also. There was some cholera in the city, and brotherwas not willing
to remain. It was with a sad heart thatI turned my face toward our mountain home, where we had met with so manydisappointments, and
our lives had been so destitute of anyreal joy. We had spent a Sabbath in the city; had been taken into the choirof 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 overtwo years.
Precious brother! Why he was so fearfuland so quickly turned his back on those budding joys that would for ushave bloomed into
beauty, I could not tell. Little did hethink that bright morning on which we left the city, that he was goingback to his mountain home to
die.
After returning to Bird’s Valley, we didsome prospecting and found where our labors could be made remunerative,but before we had
made a thorough test our hopes were blightedby sickness and death. About the middle of December brother was taken downwith
mountain fever, and twenty-four hours afterI was taken with the same disease, but in a much milder form. There wasno physician in the
Valley. The only one of whom we had anyknowledge was twelve miles away, and we had no friend to go for him orrender us any
assistance. We left our own house and securedboarding with the only man that kept a house of entertainment in the Valley.It, however,
was little better than our own, and allthe care my brother had was given by my own hands. This was done with greatdifficulty, but
necessity compelled me to do all that Icould for his comfort. Once or twice, weak as I was, I had to cut and carryin wood to keep him
warm. He lingered three or four weeks.During that time he suffered a great deal, but without complaining. Themorning before he died
he dressed himself, and sat up most ofthe day. Walking to the store in the afternoon he received kind greetingsfrom all those whom he
had the pleasure of meeting. I had almostdespaired of his recovery, but now hope sprang up anew within me, onlyto be dashed from me
in a moment. That evening when I lay downby him, he complained of not being able to get in any position in whichhe could rest easy.
Thinking that it was caused by the effortshe had made during the day, I soon went to sleep. Waking in the latterpart of the night I
extended my arm over him to see if he wascovered, and my hand rested on his arm, which was bare and cold. I feltfor his pulse, but it
had ceased to beat. I placed my hand onhis heart, and found he was dead. I was overwhelmed with anguish too greatfor 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, submissionto my Heavenly Father’s will brought relief. A kind German made a coffinout of lumber
we had sawed out during the summer, andin the evening a few friends bore his precious body to a new-made grave,and committed it to
the keeping of mother earth, there to sleep,until He who “shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned likeunto His glorious
body,” shall on the great resurrectionday raise it up to glory.
No one, unless he has passed through thesame experience, can realize my felings [sic] under this sad bereavement.No relative nearer
than two thousand miles; and not even anintimate friend near me, to whom I could look for comfort. The board Ihad to pay, for little
more than shelter, was fifty dollars, andwhen it was done my purse was empty. I had depended on my brother to decideevery important
matter that came up before us, but now,he was gone and I must use my own judgement and exercise my own will inevery decision I was
required to make. His Godly example hadbeen to me a source of strength, but it came before me now only in memory.Not a line had
been received from home to tell of thegood or ill that had come to the loved ones. We had written to them frequentlyand all our letters
were received and answered, but from somecause the answers never reached us. It was some two or three weeks beforemy health
became normal, but during that time I wasable to render the only merchant in the valley some assistance, makingone or two trips to a
trading house some forty miles down thedivide and on the north side of the North Fork of the American River. Onemorning, while
preparing to make one of these journeys,three men came into the Valley and inquired for me. Two of them were frommy own county, the
other was from St. Louis. They asked fordirection to some point if I knew of such, where they could mine with profit.I gave them the
desired information and the privilege ofusing a tent and mining tools which they would find some distance abovethe point to which I
directed them.
I was much distressed with homesicknessduring this period, and in my petitions to my Heavenly Father, asked Himto bless me with
sufficient means to return to my home andfriends in Illinois. Finding that I was wasting time working with the manwith whom I had been
associated since my brother’s death, anddesiring to look into the face of one I had known in childhood, I wentfrom the mouth of
Eldorado Canon down the North Fork of theMiddle Fork of the American River to the place I had directed the strangers.It was a lonely
walk of about six miles. The mountainson both sides of the river rose far above it, but I was too homesick toenjoy their rugged
grandeur. Not only was I homesick, butpenniless; and my object in going to my tent was to get a crowbar whichI hoped to sell for enough
to pay for my expenses to Bear River, whereI hoped to find a friend by the name of Scott. Coming to the tent and findingthat someone
had taken possession of it, and that thetools were gone I was angry, and for a moment the homesickness was forgotten.Leaving the tent
in which I had spent so many pleasant hourswith my brother, and going down the river a short distance, I saw threemen at work on a
short strip of ground between a canal andthe river. This increased my anger, for I had an interest there, but itwas soon dissipated.
Coming opposite to where they were at work,I recognized them as the men I had directed but a few days before to theplace where they
were working, and had given permissionto use the tent and the mining tools. Recognition was mutual, and afterasking the usual
question, “Does it pay,” and receivingand affirmative answer, I was invited to cross the canal and judge formyself, as it was almost
night, and they were going to wash outwhat had been gathered that afternoon. Judging from what they panned out,they were making
about eight dollars per day to the man.They gave me a very cordial invitation to spend the night with them, towhich I gave cheerful
consent. As I had told them that I hadan interest in the claim to which I had directed them, and gave them theuse of a tent and mining
tools, they could not do less than offerto take me in as a partner. This offer being the brightest prospect thathad presented itself since
the death of my brother, I gave up my journeyto Bear River, and accepting it, cast in my lot with these new-found friends.Our labors
together were pleasant and profitable,and at the end of three or four weeks I realized that my prayer for meansenough to take me home
were answered. I had three shares in theclaim above where we had been working, and as the dam and canal were ingood condition,
there was a prospect of doing successfulmining during the summer. These shares I sold to the men with whom I hadbeen working, for
fifty dollars a share, twenty-five dollarsdown, the balance when worked out, providing they paid for working. This,added to what I had
already secured, would be sufficient forthe long journey. The two men from near my home intrusted me with smallamounts to carry to
their families, with the understandingthat if by any mishap it became necessary for me to use a part of it, Ihad the privilege of doing so.
At this point in my narrative it will notbe out of place to refer to some of the causes of failure on the part ofso many whom their friends
had good reason to think should have succeeded.It was not because they were unwilling to work, neither was it becausethere was lack of
gold in the mining districts, which hadbeen sought out and quickly peopled with those who were anxious to securea fortune in a few days.
The first cause of failure was want ofexercising good judgement, just as men must do in any calling in life inwhich they may engage. Too
many seemed to think that by going fromplace to place and digging a hole here and there they would, by and by,strike it rich. This did
occur in some instances, but it was nota wise rule to follow. A second cause of failure was neglect to followup every indication that gave
promise of success. I will never forgetthe first particles of gold upon which my eyes rested. I felt at the timethat thorough work should
be done to ascertain whether the plat ofground that could have been claimed would pay; but my messmates passedit by without even
taking out a pan full of dirt and makinga slight test, which would have required but a few moments of time. A fewweeks after, passing
the same plat of ground, I saw that thoroughwork had been done, and that it had paid, back quite a distance from thebank of the creek.
No doubt hundreds of dollars had been takenout of the claim. A third cause of failure was unwillingness to be satisfiedwith reasonable
wages. This led men to listen to the wonderfulstories that were told, and make hard and expensive journeys without promiseof sure
success. The fourth and greatest causeof failure, was the forming of too large companies. The number that couldwork profitably
together depended on the nature of themines in which the work was being done. On bars and in dry or placer diggings,from two to three
could work successfully, and in many placesone man with a long tom could do well. It was with a thankful heartI bid these kind friends
goodbyand turned my face homeward.
Copyright 1999-2001Robin Worth Petersen
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