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OPAT 49 (1921)

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A record of daily events during a trip from Fulton County, Ill., across the Plains to the Willamette Valley, Oregon Territory, in the year 1853; with a brief description of the scenery and curiosities along the road; being a journal kept by Henry Allyn.

March 28, 1853—Started about 2 p.m. on our long and tedious journey to Oregon. Passed through Ellisville and encamped about three-fourths mile beyond, on a high, bleak and brushy barren; fuel scarce, and bad company. We were serenaded the whole night by bacchanalian songs and drunken revels by a company of emigrants.

March 29—Glad to leave the place and company, started as early as we could. Passed through Virgil; traveled 27 miles, encamped at Martins on the Fort Madison road. Road in places very bad; detained some by getting stalled; overtook old Bro. Wilson, who started a little before us yesterday, and accompany us as far as his residence in Ioway. Weather good, but rather cold.

March 30, Wednesday—A very pleasant morning, but we got a late start, weather warm. Pass through La Harpe, a handsome little town, in a handsome situation, 14 miles from the Miss. River. Came about 23 miles today; encamped in a lane near a house 2 miles from the river. Wind E. and threatens rain. Expenses.

March 31, Thursday—I was taken very sick and did not notice much of passing events. Passed through several villages, among which were Tontoosuc [Pontoosuc, ed.], Fort Madison and West Point. Crossed the Mississippi at Fort Madison. Encamped at West Point. Expenses.

April 2, Saturday—Started rather late this morning, being detained some by greasing wagons and partly by awkwardness in doing up things; not having as yet got broke to the journey. My observation was confined pretty much to the inside of the wagon covers, since Thursday, and nothing transpired to my vision that would be very edifying in a journal. I have seen but little of Ioway yet. Through the mercy of God, my fever and chills have left and also the headache. Since we stopped to camp it has commenced raining. Came 20 miles. Ex.

April 3, Sabbath—Laid at camp today. Old Sister Wilson was taken very sick Saturday morning and is very bad today. I am able to sit up a little. John Wesley left us yesterday morning on horseback, to go on as far as his Uncle Beavers, who lives near the road that we travel, but being farther than he expected, did not arrive there. Returned to us last night with his uncle, Wm. Wilson, who also lived near the road. Cold and rainy today. Several Oregon teams pass us. Ex.

April 4, Monday—Passed through a little village called Agency City, where an Indian agent formerly resided. The graves of Wappaloo, an Indian chief, and the Agent Street and some of his family, with their monuments and tombstones, stand near the road inside the enclosure surrounding the agency farm, just previous to entering the village. Old Sister Wilson is very feeble today and not able to sit up; make a feather bed for her in one of our wagons. I am likewise unable to sit up but little. Weather pleasant and cool. We wind our way today along the Bluffs of the Des Moines, sometimes on and sometimes under the bluffs, and frequently in sight of the river, a beautiful stream, but less than Illinois. Pass through Autumwa (Ottumwa), a beautiful thriving village on the Des Moines. Came about 27 miles today and arrive at Wm. Wilson’s.

April 5, Tuesday— Conclude to stay here to rest the sick, and do some washing. Sister Wilson and myself are much better. Franklin and John go out a hunting, kill a drumming partridge and a pidgeon and a squirrel, but saw no grisley bears. Roads very good only in short pinches. Old Sister Wilson is very much revived by our rest, and my chills and fever and headache has nearly left me and my cough much abated.

April 6, Wednesday—Cold morning; wind N. W. Miss Martha Wood wishes to go with us and we conclude to take her. Country grows more rolling and inclines to be hilly, though in gentle declivities. Passed through Eddyville and Oskaloosa, two beautiful villages for such a new country. Came 25 miles and encamped in a hollow with a number of other emigrants, with plenty of wood and water and guarded around with hills to defend its from the cold winds. But we cannot take it with us. The timber and prairie through the country we have passed today are very beautifully distributed but all the timber that we have passed through yet in Ioway inclines to be small, crooked and scrubby. I have seen no such black and fertile soil since we crossed Spoon River, either in Illinois or Ioway as in Fulton or the counties bordering the Illinois River.

April 7, Thursday—Got an early start. A very cool morning. Drove about a mile and came to the ferry at Belle Fountain, the beginning of a town standing on a beautiful site on the west side of the Des Moines, on an elevated bank of limestone rock, and crossed at a rope ferry. Drove on seven miles to Elias Beaver’s, a brother-in-law of James, and stop for the day.

We arrive here at 11 o’clock. The wagons where we camped last night passed us this evening. My health is poor but am gaining some strength. Sister Wilson’s health is yet very bad.

April 8, Friday—Conclude to stay until Monday morning and do up some washing, make a tent, rest the sick, etc, etc. Sister Wilson remains feeble. My health is improving. Weather pleasant, but cold winds. James and Elias Beaver go to a town about six miles and purchase a quantity of dried venison hams as a part of our outfit. This is the handsomest part of Ioway that we have yet seen. Plenty of timber and prairie and the country all lies in gentle waves. Emigrants continue to pass us.

April 9, Saturday—Very pleasant day. Spend the most of the day in repacking our load, making a tent and in adjusting matters. Many teams pass us today.

April 10, Sunday—The neighbors assemble here for worship. James preaches from Job. A class meeting follows, in which some speak very feelingly and could not refrain from praising God aloud. Thus where so recently the savage revelings of the Indian Powow, and the horrid war whoop of the aborigines echoed among the beautiful groves, the echoes of the high praises of the Prince of Peace have supplanted them. The Indians have been removed from here eight years only. But I cannot rejoice in the circumstances as I could do if justice and equity had been exercised towards this people by our government. Many emigrants pass us today. Threatens rain. The neighbors assembled again for evening meeting. James addressed them from Isaiah.

April 11, Monday—Dark and cloudy morning. Threatens rain and about 8 o’clock it begins to execute its threats, and continues the whole day to fall in cataracts and with thunder and lightning. We proceed, however, and travel ten miles and stop at a house and stay all night. The sick are very much recruited. The soil wears a darker aspect and appears to be more fertile. Came through a small village called Knoxville.

April 12, Tuesday—The rain continued all night. This morning started in the rain. Old Br. Wilson and lady tarries until the rain is over. The rain ceased about 10 or 11, but remains cloudy and wears a threatening aspect. Passed today through a little cluster of log cabins, stables, hen roosts, hog pens, and necessary houses, and it is called Newbern. The town partakes of the sparseness of the population of the country. Country more level and timber more scarce: very bad traveling today. owing to the rains. Encamp on the bank of a stream called White Breast, which we cannot cross, being so swollen by the recent rain. Pitch our new tent, for the first time. Might have traveled farther today had it not been for high water. Came 18 miles.

April 13, Wednesday—Wind, thunder and lightning and some rain in the night. The wind blew so hard that I apprehended danger from trees falling on us. But he, who holds the wind in his fist, did not permit it. A bevy of owls, after the storm had subsided, thinking perhaps their rights invaded, arranged themselves in the tree tops over us and demanded, "Who, who, who, who; who, who, who are ye?" Between the storm and the owls I did not sleep much. Day at length dawned; the creek had fallen eight or ten feet. James took one of the mares and rode in to try the ford but found it swimming. The mare got scared, gave a sudden whirl and threw him off. The mare made for the shore, got partly out, but James having hold of one rein of the bridle, whirled her suddenly about and the bank being steep and slippery she fell back against him and knocked him back into the stream, but after various evolutions they both got safe out, thank God. Here we have to content ourselves until the water falls. But Oregon emigrants must not mind trifles. Eight or ten wagons of emigrants overtake us here. A flurry of snow about sundown.

April 14, Thursday—This morning "the gloom from the face of fair heaven retired. The winds ceased to murmur, the thunders expired." Tried the creek again and thought we could cross by carrying over some plunder on some trees that we felled across, so after breakfast, at it we went and all got over safe. We thanked God and took courage, hoping that we should see Oregon some day if we had good luck. Having got safe over the river Styx, we proceeded, passed through Chariton village; we was told that Chariton River was so high that it could not be forded in less than three or four days. So rather than to lie still we took a round about road which was ten or twelve miles out of our way, in order to cross higher up where the stream was smaller. In crossing a ravine, the mules of the foremost wagon stink in the mud, and the two forward ones fell and got scared, so that we had to take them off, hitch behind and back out and grease. We hunted a new route, although a rough one, and succeeded. Towards night a cloud gathers in the west and the sun sets behind it and a cold east wind begins to breathe upon us, portentious of another cold storm. Came, I should judge, 14 miles. Camp in a little point of timber 300 yards from the road.

April 15, Friday—Cold N. E. wind all day, and cloudy and threatens rain. Leave the main traveled road to Council Bluffs in order to go by John and Simeon Wilson’s, James’s brothers, and likewise where his father lives who is yet behind us. Came through Garden Grove where was an old Mormon establishment, where are now some splendid farms. Cross some large and level prairies today, and roads very heavy. Cross two branches of the Chariton, as I suppose. The fords of both very bad. Bridges are unknown in these parts. Rain commence just as we stopped to encamp, which as I suppose, is on a branch of Chariton in a little patch of timber. I judge we came 16 miles.

April 16, Saturday—Find that the stream we encamped is a branch of Grand River. Cloudy and cold winds all day, but we are thankful that it does not rain. Roads hilly, miry and crooked. Cross several very difficult fords, steep down, and steep up, and crooked at that. Country gets very hilly and uneven, although a very rich and black soil even on the summits of the highest knobs. The soil in this country is of a very cohesive consistence, and not subject to wash, as in Illinois. Came today 12 miles on a knob, or dividing ridge between two branches of Grand River, which is at present the only practical route for a road without immense labor, although so serpentine that it exceeds every point of the compass. Arrive at John and Benjamin Wilson’s a little after sunset. Came 20 miles. John’s claim joins the Missouri line. The water here is soft and rily. Difficult to get wells and but few springs. Have to dig from 30 to 70 feet.

April 17, Sunday—Pleasant day. Old Br. Wilson and lady arrive. She has got better. Part of us go to a meeting about a mile. Br. Miller, a local preacher, addressed us. There is no church organized here, but said Br. Miller of the M. E. Church addresses them every four weeks. There are no Wesleyans in these parts, though numerous in the interior.

April 18, Monday—Another cold storm, but the rain ceases in a short time. But continues cold and cloudy. The valleys are beginning to assume a mantle of green. Three of our mules strayed off and were gone all night. The farmers here have not commenced plowing yet, though before we left Fulton County many had in their spring wheat, and were plowing for corn, oats, etc. John Wilson is trying to get mules for the trip. If he takes oxen we can not travel far in company. Corn here is 30 cents but before we left the main road it was 50. That old time degraded custom of taking advantage of necessity still prevails, and no doubt will, until the millenium, or until its source is dried up. Woe to the world because of offenses. Oh! how many professors, even including many of the clergy, are implicated in this, and yet in sight of God, it is even more aggravating than stealing. It proceeds on the principle that might makes right. But theft does not; it is ashamed of its own deeds. But the extortioner is not only guilty of the act, but of its perpetuation. Yea, he is a Jeroboam. John Wesley and Franklin Dunning had a fine hunt today, but had only hunters’ luck.

April 19, Tuesday—James finds the mules which had strayed off with a couple of colts belonging in the neighborhood. Went over to Mr. Bartello’s new house where he is at work fitting it up for the reception of his family, whom he expects on this week. Part of his claim is in Iowa, and part in Missouri. I went over with him to view a spring that was on his Missouri claim, and thus crossed the line that divides freedom and slavery. What a pity. Yea! what an infernal shame that these beautiful hills, valleys and groves, which so manifestly wears the impress of divine goodness and benignity, should be perverted from their original design by the prince of darkness, and his earthly agents. O! Lord! how long dost thou not avenge the cause of the robbed, the chattelized and the brutalized. James and John are gone down to Simeon’s and to try to get some mules for Johns team and to dispose of his oxen. Wind south and threatens rain.

April 20, Wednesday—I was taken last night with a diarrhoea and am sick today. Thus affliction seems to be my lot. O! that it may work for my good. Joseph Ephriam, Betsey’s child, is very bad today with soreness and inflammation in and about the ears, which seems to be very painful. The women are engaged today in making a tent for John’s family. James and John get home about 11 at night, just in time to avoid a severe storm of rain, thunder and lightning. Find they can get mules from 80 to 110 dollars. John purchases, at a mill in Missouri, his outfit of flour, and brings it home. I stiffer much with pain in my bowels with symptoms of dyspepsia.

April 21, Thursday—Various kinds of preparations and consultations, too tedious to mention, are attended to today. John is almost on the point of rueing the idea of getting mules.

April 22, Friday—John concludes to fit out with mules; purchases two; he had purchased one before, and James starts after a fourth. Very stormy weather. Simeon and his family, who lives 15 miles distant, arrive here, just at night.

April 23, Saturday—Day dawns with a rushing, mighty wind from S. E. In the night, thunder, wind and rain, and the whole concave of the Heavens wears a gloomy and portentous aspect. Are making preparations to start the middle of next week but I doubt that roads, unknown to bridges, or work of any kind, will not admit it. James returns with another mule and a set of harness which makes Johns team complete. Oregon and California emigrants are scattered all over the country. They leave the main traveled road, I suppose, on account of getting corn cheaper. James saw a drove of 350 cattle yesterday.

April 24, Sabbath—Cloudy and cold. Assembled at the old school house for worship. Five wagons and 300 cattle pass us.

April 25, Monday—The women are doing up their washing on a large scale, and some of the men watching the mules, which, had been turned out to graze, and John at the blacksmith shop, waiting for his wagon irons, and various regulations, adjustments and repairs, attended to. Pleasant day.

April 26, Tuesday—Morning clear and beautiful, which is doubly gratifying after so long a storm. But O! the mud and high waters. A very drying wind from the W. Spread out all our clothing, bedding, etc., to take the air. Fitting out John’s wagon for the trip, with bows, cover, etc. Two mules abscond. James tracks them and finds them shut up in a stable. Returns with them just at night. Sun sets behind a cloud. At night some of the near neighbors and connections assemble and have a little prayer meeting.

April 27, Wednesday—Cloudy and rather cold. Rained in the night. Simeon and his family, after an affectionate farewell, return home this morning. John busy in settling up all his accounts, preparatory for a start, tomorrow, if practicable. Feels and looks more like spring than any weather we have had yet since spring commenced.

April 28, Thursday—Thunder, lightning and rain, greater part of last night. John is sick this morning with lung fever. He complained yesterday, in the afternoon. Shall not start today, on account of John’s sickness, high waters, mud and mire. Gets warmer and vegetation grows finely. The boys harness and hitch up John’s mules, and experience them in the wagon. They perform well. In order to make good some better, we make new tent poles. Mr. Pittman, whom Bartholow sent for his family, called here this morning to let him know that his family was at his house, and he could not cross Little River on account of its height. Martha taken sick with pains in the bowels.

April 29, Friday—Rather cool this morning. Wind N. E. We start about 12 on our long journey. Martha is better but John Wesley and Mary is taken sick. Passed through Decatur City, which was laid out for the county seat, by a company of interested men, contrary to the vote of the county, which has stripped it of its glory, if it ever had any; it consists of four log houses, two roofless cabins and a barn and stable or two. But let us not despise the day of small things; it may yet become the Birmingham of America. Came 15 miles. Camp in a point called Hickory Grove. Just at night, turn cold, with wind N. E. Heavy roads.

April 30, Saturday—Cold morning with a brisk wind from E. One of John’s mules gets loose in the night and absconded; he follows on after him on his track about 6 miles before he over-took him. Two of ours likewise started back, and James overtook them about 2 miles from camp. Started at 12. Came 14 miles. Houses few and far between. But little corn to be got; the last we got was 40 cents, but after this it will be $1.00 or over. Traveled till after dark to get a place where corn was to be had. Got all they had to spare, which was 2¼ bushels. Hard rain just at night.

May 1, Sabbath—Owing to the place where we stopped last night being so incommodious, being a hazel thicket, the ground wet and miry. and no water near, we concluded to start on and travel today. Yesterday in the p.m. I was taken very sick with inflammation of the lungs and have been confined to the bed all this day. Yesterday and today crossed several bad fords, possessing every had quality belonging to fords in general. Took a wrong track and went about a mile on it. Roads hilly and miry in many places. Camped in a very commodious place, in a hollow near a running stream. Came about 10 miles, for a Sabbath day’s journey. My cough continues.

May 2, Monday—Could sleep but little on account of a vehement cough. Lay restless, and wished for the day. Day at length dawned, hailed by a thousand of the "sweet songsters of the woods," and to add to the variety, the partridge, not being furnished with organs of vocal music, commenced drumming, the only instrumental music in the choir. John Wesley is feeble, though better; he drove team some today. I am very feeble and keep my bed today. My cough continues, with sickness of stomach, vertigo and headache. Last Saturday we were directed a nearer way to the main road, which was said to be a good road, and 15 miles nearer. We accordingly took it, but found it next thing to impassable, it crost four or five branches of Grand River. It was also very hilly and crooked, paying obeisance to every point of the compass, and many abrupt sloughs, that would take the wagons to the hub. But the worst of all were the fords. In order to give a correct idea it will be necessary to give a short geographical description of the country. The streams lie low, in deep valleys. A stream, say 20 feet from bank to bank, will be about the same depth, abrupt and steep. The only place for fording is where chance or accident has made some infractions in the monotony of its structure, by washing out otter or muskrat holes, or the sliding in of its banks. These places are so sideling, many of them, that it needs all hands to hold the wagon up, while if the driver should vary a few inches from the circumscribed limits, the wagon, team and all, would go "to Davy Jones’ locker," as a sailor would say. After crossing many branches of Grand River, the main stream and one branch on the W. side, where many emigrants were encamped; being so early in the day, we conclude to travel on, although it was 2 miles to the next timber. Here is a place called Mount Pisgah, which is on the main road. It is an old Mormon establishment, on an elevated and beautiful site. But we could not see our Canaan from it. Perhaps the Mormons thought they did. Many of their cabins are standing. but in a dilapidated state and their fences likewise. We took a Mormon rail for stove wood, and wended our way on the prairie a few miles and encamped in a hollow place where water was convenient. Came about 15 miles. We lost 4 miles by taking a road that crossed the river lower down, but when we got there, we found the ford washed away by the recent flood.

May 8, Tuesday—James and John rises early and take their guns to kill some prairie hens that were crowing on a knob above us. James kills one and brings it to camp in time to cook for breakfast, and John hears a turkey and pursues it, but did not capture any. Two horses, with halters on, pass us, which were running away. They belonged to emigrants ahead. James tried to catch them but could not. Late starting in order to let the mules graze. One of the ox teams, who camped near us, took all earlier start. But after we got under way our roosters soon walked by them. Met three men after the horses that passed this morning. They belonged to a company five or six miles ahead. Crossed many bad sloughs. Crossed a stream on a bridge six or seven feet wide. Passed an encampment of nine wagons, who were waiting to recover their horses. James, in crossing a slough, gets thrown out of the wagon, unhurt. The roads are on extremes, where they are good, very good, and vice versa. Came about 22 miles and camp in the prairie.

May 4, Wednesday—Cold, rainy morning. Wind E. Five of the mules missing. Rain increases with a brisk E. wind and very cold. James and John start off in the rain after the mules. They track them about six miles in a N. direction and return late in the day, cold and wet as drowned rats and with empty stomachs. Rain continues nearly all day. We lay at camp all this day not having grain, we are obliged to let the mules have time to graze. All the emigrants that we passed yesterday, repass us today, while rain was pouring down in torrents. My cough continues, but my appetite is better.

May 5, Thursday—Cool morning. Wind nearly N. Started as soon as we got breakfast, came about three-fourths mile and try to cross a wide slough; the foremost wagon got stuck in the mud, by reason of the mules sinking and falling. Just at this time a company of emigrants, with oxen, overtook us. We loosened the mules and hitched both span with chains to the tongue, in order to bring them on harder ground, but the ground was too mushy—they sank and fell again. although we had unloaded the wagon and had carried the "plunder" to the opposite bank, 40 yards. At length one of the teamsters volunteered to take his five yoke of oxen to the wagon and soon had it on "terra firma." The mules would have got through, if they had hard ground. They have hoisted the wagons frequently out of deeper and harder mud, but their feet are so small that they sink, where oxen or horses will not. Our other two wagons started on up the slough to head it and found a good crossing. We proceeded on and came to a house three miles from the last house we had passed, and James stopped and got one bushel of corn and paid $2 for it. After this we crossed two large streams that were much swollen by yesterday’s rain, on very crazy and dangerous bridges, made by emigrants. The last was made principally of willow brush, and one of the hindmost mules of the foremost wagon got tangled in the brush, just as they had got over, and fell, and the three mules dragged it, wagon and all some distance up a steep and muddy bank before they could be stopped, but it flounced and sprang to its feet before they got up the hank. From this place we came six miles to a stream skirted by some timber and pitched out tent for the night. Many emigrant wagons are camped near us. Came about 10 miles.

May 6, Friday—The emigrants that are here, all join and make a bridge. The stream had been bridged, but the recent flood had swept it away. Remains cloudy, wind from N. and threatens more rain. After the bridge was completed, we moved ahead. The wagons were a considerable length of time in getting over. We camped one-half mile below the bridge and they all got over before we got there, some several miles ahead. We passed them all and drove through the rains into a grove of diminutive, scrubby timber some distance from the road and encamp. Between 5 and 6 p.m. a very cold rain commenced out of the N. Crossed several large streams on crazy bridges, the names of which I did not learn, but we comforted ourselves that the roads could be no worse. The soil very rich and fertile, but no timber, except a little stinted, scrubby growth along some of the largest streams. This is the handsomest part of Ioway that I have yet seen. Came about 18 miles.

May 7, Saturday—Cold enough for a morning in January. Got up the mules. Just before we start the sun looks upon us through an opening in the clouds. We hailed him as an old acqaintance who had been long absent. But his glory was soon obscured. However, in the p.m. it partially broke away, but continues cold. Crossed Nishnebotany River at a ferry. This is a beautiful stream four rods wide. The Bottoms or Flats are wider than common for streams in this country and as rich as the valley of the Nile. A few families have got in here and formed a small colony. Here has been a large Indian town in former times. O! with what heart rendings must the poor aborigines—the former lords of this beautiful valley and surrounding country—have been forced to leave these beautiful valleys, towns, hunting grounds and graves of their forefathers. Their feelings must have been similar to Adam’s as Milton speaks for him in Paradise Lost:

"and must I leave thee.

Paradise thus leave—fit haunt for God."

If Christian measures had been taken by our nominal Christian government they might have been a prosperous and happy people, but instead of this our government have connived at a set of unprincipled traders, who have scattered firebrands, arrows and death among them, and practiced innumerable frauds, taking advantage of their ignorance and their imbecility, and whenever they have taken arms in their own defense, our government have sent an armed force, either to exterminate, or to compel them to give up those who have led in their just defense, to be executed. And in either case a tract of country has been seized to defray the expenses of the expedition. O! my country. Self-styled the freest nation upon earth and the asylum of universal liberty, both civil and ecclesiastical. How long wilt thou make this hypocritical boast, while in thy midst more than 30,000 of native-born Americans are not only robbed of all they have, or might acquire, but of their own bodies, bones, sinews, soul and all. Surely no heathen nation on earth is guilty of such barbarism. Thou canst easily read thy doom in the ancient records of holy writ, where one nation after another have fallen by judgments falling on them, on account of their injustice and oppression. Powerful and populous nations, too, swaying the sword of empire. now only indistinctly known in history. Such, O! my country will be thy doom, except thou repent speedily and cease the oppression of thine own sons. and thy injustice toward the ancient proprietors of this beautiful country and make restitution therefor, or there is no God, and the Bible is a lie. After we had crossed the river, we came about 5 miles and pitched tent n a hollow, in a scanty grove. Came 20 miles. My cough is very bad, unable to walk any today. Country next thing to a Paradise, but timber scarce. Last night we were serenaded by the wolves.

May 8, Sabbath—We lay at camp today. Cloudy and cold N. winds. Last night I had little rest on account of my cough. Had a social visit back and forth with a camp of emigrants who were from Indiana.

May 9, Monday—Had a rather late start on account of sleeping too late. Our first effort was to take a near cut by crossing the slough that we camped near, which would have cut off a mile or more. But the mules sank and fell. We took them off, backed out by hand, and was glad of the privilege of returning the way we came. Many an one gets into a worse scrape by taking near cuts. We passed through a very beautiful country today; all that’s lacking is timber. The soil assumes a paler hue. Saw seven or eight of our red brethren today. One of the eldest of them had a paper written by some irresponsible person requesting to "Give this poor man something." James gave him a dime. We crossed two large streams today on bridges. They were branches, I suppose, of the Nishnebotany. The last was a toll bridge. Partially clear today and several heavy showers, and a very cold wind from N. W. There is a grove of some 200 acres of timber at the toll bridge and a few families settle by it. Take some stove wood along with us intending to camp on the prairie. Came 25 miles. Camp on the prairie under the lee side of a hill. Roads much better today, and according to all accounts there is no more very bad roads this side of the Cascade Mountains.

May 10. Tuesday—A very cold, frosty morning, so that the ground was crusted with a frozen zone. But the sun rose, throwing his resplendent beams once more over the horizon and all nature looks cheerful. Old Boreas is likewise lulled to rest, and it has the appearance of being settled weather. The emigrants that we passed last Friday overtook us yesterday morning. We traveled together, and they encamped near us last night. We rolled on, with many wagons in sight before and behind us. Yesterday we met Mr. Abbot, a citizen of Warren Co., Ill., who had started to cross the plains with a Mr. Leper, a neighbor and I believe, a connection, who had crossed the Missouri River and had proceeded to the Elkhorn, a short distance, and found it so swollen they could not ford it. They made a raft, but in crossing, Mr. Leper stumbled and fell overboard and drowned. Whereupon, Mr. Abbot, being discouraged, and not having help enough, took the back track. [When the Dodge and Himes families crossed the Elkhorn in May, 1853, a young man belonging to another company, reported to have started from Warren County, Ill., was drowned—perhaps the same as referred to in this diary.1] A report brought on by a couple of emigrants with horse teams, who overtook us. by laying at camp on Sunday, says there was a murder committed 60 or 80 miles back by an emigrant killing his partner. The reporter had passed and saw the grave, but could not tell many particulars. Some of the settlers that lived nearest to where the murder took place said that they had a fight in the morning before they left camp and their dissension was about a woman, but whether she was one of their wives they could not say. We crossed several large streams that I cannot name. The road today was good but hilly. We saw many emigrants encamped on the edge of the prairie, seven or eight before we got to Cainsville. [Sometimes spelled Kanesville.] One group was assembled about half way up on the side of a hill and when we drew near they had just dispersed and met us on their way down to their camps. They said they had been burying a child who was 17 months old, by the name of Jones, from Morgan Co., Ill. We passed through a village called Cartersville. The cabins, I believe, are all of Mormon construction, or if they are not they might as well be, for all the difference in externals, laid up of rough, round logs, low and covered with clab-boards and earth spread over. The town is wedged in between very high bluffs, and the space so narrow between that there is not level enough to set the houses, and allow anything of a decent street, which is very crooked, following the meanderings of the ravine. This place is called 2½ miles from Cainsville. From this place to Cainsville the road passes through a series of narrow and crooked ravines to the city of Cainsville which stands in just such another wedged tip hole as Cartersville. A majority of the citizens appear to be only temporary residents, who assemble here during the egress of emigration, for speculative purposes and erect temporary buildings accordingly. Entered the city about 2 hours by sun. Came very near upsetting on the main and only street, on account of gullies and sideling places in the street. But what is everybody’s business is nobody’s. Came 24 or 25 miles today. Camp at the lower end of the city.

May 11, Wednesday—Weather turned warmer last night. My cough continues, but not so severe. I have been able to walk some, two or three days back, thank the giver of all our mercies. Threatens to be showery. James and John busy in getting outfit. The whole length of the street today filled with wagons and teams, taking in their outfit, render it almost impassable. Many Indians are here, mostly of the Omaha tribe, who inhabit high up on the Missouri. Last night at the ferry a person was shot at by one of the emigrants in an attempt to steal. Whether an Indian or white man is not known. He is supposed to be killed, as blood was discovered and marks where he had probably fallen into the river. Wind turns suddenly N. and is very cold.

May 12, Thursday—Cold morning. Many of the teams passing over the ferry. But we are detained on account of getting work done at blacksmith’s shop. John got a serious wound on the back of his right hand today. A Cal. immigrant had taken his wagon to the shop to get some repairs. He came to the shop to see if his work was done, and the smith told him his turn had not come yet. A dispute arose and the smith ordered him out of the shop. He did not obey the mandate soon enough to suit the taste of the smith and the smith drew his hammer on him. But the emigrant knocked off the blow and attacked him (with) fist and made him cry for quarters. As soon as the emigrant had let him up several of the blacksmiths friends rallied and renewed the combat and making at him with bars of iron, sledge hammers, tongs. etc. John in trying to shield off a blow with an iron bar from the emigrant, received the blow on his hand, which hurt him badly. Such scenes put one in mind of a squabble among the heathen gods, described in their mythology.

"Last night I heard the Dog star bark Mars met Venus in the dark, Limping Vulcan seized an iron bar And furiously made at the God of War."

May 13, Friday—Weather some warmer this morning. I went up onto one of the highest peaks that I could see of the Council Bluffs to view the environs of the city of Cain. After a wearisome climb I arrove at its summit and saw another peak still higher. After taking a little breath, I ascended it, and still saw a higher one. I then held a council whether to ascend it, but decided negatively, being weary and out of breath. From this point I had an extensive view up and down the river, and the general appearance of the country, back from the river. Towards the river, a land bottom, or flat, commences at the base of the Bluffs, from two to three miles wide, extending to the river whose turbid waters washes the base of a high bluff on the opposite side. Along, up, down and back from the river, the bluffs on this side are full of crevices, fissures and ravines, which seem to vie with each other, in trying to get their heads the highest. They resemble the engravings of the Pyramids of Egypt, only immensely more numerous and clustered close together. On the Nebraska side the bluffs appear to be as high, but uniform and even. On this side the peaks are generally covered with a thin growth of short, scrubby timber, that extends 2 to 3 miles back. On the bottom are many standing pools, which in dry weather, I suppose, dry up, and many cottonwood groves. John’s hand gets worse and much inflamed so that he goes to bed with a fever, Martha is taken sick this p.m. We understand that the ferriage at the steamboat ferry is $10 per wagon. At another 5 miles below, with a flat boat, $1.50.

May 14, Saturday—Wind S. Clouds portend much rain. A pretty heavy shower this morning. Last night a most horrid murder was committed. The particulars as near as I could collect them, were these, young man, by the name of James Samuels, from Columbus, Ohio, came by steamboat to St, Jo. thinking to get a passage with some of the emigrants to California. While at St. Jo. he fell in company with another man, who said he was on the same errand, and they agreed to travel in company. Not meeting with a chance there, they came up here and succeeded. Last night they were up guarding the camp and teams of the men they were engaged with, and this morning Samuels was found lying by the side of a log, that I suppose, the fire was built against, and an axe lying near the corpse. very bloody. The back of his head mashed in, a blow on the breast with the edge and his neck about half severed. A valuable horse was stole, but the owner missed it—found it near the camp of the murdered man, tied, and took it away too soon for the villain to accomplish his infernal purpose, to escape on. Since writing the above the villian is caught. His plans being flustrated, by losing the horse, he made up a story that the Indians had attacked them and shows a small scar on his head, which he said was made by an Indian arrow. Thinking, I suppose, that this story would avail, he did not try to escape, but was found sitting on a stump, not far from the camp. A jury was summoned, partly of citizens and emigrants. James was on the jury. The jury was unanimous in their verdict of guilt. He was delivered tip to the emigrants, to take him on to California, or to execute him on the spot. A resolution was offered to keep him till 10 a.m. on Monday, in order to make his peace with God, which I voted for with all my heart. But the resolution was lost and two hours was given him and he was hung on the limb of a basswood tree that stood about 12 yards from the scene of the murder. To all appearances he was not over 17 or 18 years of age, said his name was Waltenberg Mewett. was a citizen of St. Louis and his parents lived in Missouri. The Methodist preacher who is stationed here, waited on him, to whom he confessed he was knowing to the circumstances. but did not have a hand in it. Thus a blooming youth, that might have been a blessing to society and his country, was called to expiate his crimes, in the flower of age. O what a warning to the youth of our land, to avoid every appearance of evil, lest it should land them in the same vortex of destruction. Surely the way of the transgressor is hard. We all went to see the execution, which was attended by a vast concourse of emigrants and citizens. We viewed the spot where the mangled body of the corpse was found lying this morning, which was saturated with blood. There was a person here that was acquainted with the parents of the deceased, in Columbus, Ohio. He says they were of eminent respectability, and wealthy. Samuels, to appearance, was 24 or 5. And all, even this murderer, testified to his respectability as far as they were acquainted. The scene of murder and execution was up in a ravine, that comes down the Bluffs about 4 or 300 yards from the main street of the city. His body, the murderer’s. I suppose was given for dissection.

May 15, Sunday—Very pleasant morning. Wind W. At 10 a.m. went to meeting at the court house, where Elder Shinn, the Methodist clergyman, preached the funeral of Samuels, from Psalm 62. 8v. He was an Odd Fellow and was buried according to the custom of the order. Between 3 and 4 p.m. we went down to the ferry, but could not cross. John’s hand is very bad and pains him very much. It is swelled and inflamed. Martha Wood is much better. My cough yet lingers, but is much abated.

May 16, Monday—By much begging and persuasion we were taken across the Missouri pretty early this morning. One of John’s mules was missing and he was after it when the rest of us crossed and we waited for him till the boat made another trip. It was a steamboat called the Hindo. After he came over, we started on through a low bottom, covered with a thick forest of cottonwood, which is all overflown in high water, about 2½ or 3 miles; road sandy and heavy. Then we came on to bench of higher land, just at the edge of the cottonwood, which was clean prairie. We passed several camps of emigrants, stopped at the side of a lake, turned out the mules to graze, got some dinner ourselves, as we had not time in the morning to get breakfast. We started on after dinner and passed more camps. We came to a small stream, where was a bridge, made of cottonwood poles and brush by the Indians, where they demand toll. They have a fork stuck in the ground, each side of the road, and a pole crossing the road laid in them. They have a camp near, and when they see a company of emigrants, they come and stand at each end of the pole and demand money. James gave them a dime and they let us pass. By this time a very black cloud was rising in the N. W. and lightning gleaming from it in all directions. We continued our march, however, until we approached the highest and last bluff of the Missouri and concluded to halt at its base, for protection from time wind, though several wagons just ahead, went on. We fell to unharnessing and by the time this was done, the battles of heaven were let loose. We got into our wagons, to compose ourselves for the night as well as we could. Came about 7 miles.

May 17, Tuesday—Such a night as last is seldom seen. The wind blew a tremendous hurricane. We are surprised and I trust, thankful, that our wagons were not blown away. I am apprehensive for the teams that passed on before us, and others behind us, who had no high bluff for protection. But we owe our protection rather to the Great Rock of Safety. The fury of the storm subsided a little before day and the clouds this morning portend much rain. Owing partly to our broken rest last night, and partly laziness, we got a late start this morning and many teams and several droves of cattle pass us, but after we had started, the way our roosters walked up to them was a caution. We got far ahead of them and overtook and passed many others. We have seen but three or four mule teams as yet, among the emigrants except our own. The roads for 30 miles before we got to Cainsville and so far, on this side of the Missouri are good. The soil is different, being somewhat sandy and absorbs the rains. But the country is very hilly and the roads very crooked. When arriving at the summit of an eminence we can see the emigrants in almost all directions, each group traveling in different directions, but all in the same road. The place where we stopped last night is said to be the site of the Mormon winter quarters, but my opinion is that when it was built it was designed for a permanent residence, for this reason, that they would not have bestowed so much labor, and labor, too, of such a kind, if it was designed for one season only. The town is laid off in a regular oblong square, a mile, or nearly a mile, in length, and about one-fourth wide; the houses have been built very compact. Regular streets have been laid out at right angles and the utmost regularity has been attended to. The remains of the frame of an over shot mill, where considerable extra labor has been bestowed, is standing on a stream, at the upper end of the town. Some of their gardens have been picketed in. There is, I suppose, about 6 or 800 acres of land been broken, but no appearance of having been fenced. At the summit of the hill, just above the town, is a regular graveyard laid off in rows, and the graves as close as convenience will admit. They mostly have pieces of plank set up at head and feet, with the names of the interred handsomely carved upon them. I should judge there were about 200 graves. There is no stone in this country, and we have not discerned any appearance of coal, and there is no timber of consequence. But for these disadvantages it is as rich and beautiful as the Garden of Eden. Came about 18 miles. Camped in a hollow to get out of the wind. Elk horns are found on the prairie in plenty, and some have been killed here, but we have seen none yet. The pain of John’s hand is much abated.

May 18, Wednesday—The wind last night took a sudden whirl into the N. W. and though we were in a deep ravine, surrounded by high bluffs, yet it came down upon us with such a rush that our wagons rocked like cradles. But it did not rock us to sleep, being too rough a hand. This is said to be a windy country and subject to hurricanes until we get to South Pass. And in my opinion, this is one reason, among others, that there is no timber, only a small, stinted growth of diminutive oaks and hickory, along in the deep valleys of some of the largest streams. The sudden change in the atmosphere caused me to take cold and kept me in bed today. I was taken this morning with a chill and a fever succeeded. My lungs much swollen and cough increases. Came to the ferry on Elkhorn River, but no crossing at present. The vast quantity of rain that fell night before last has raised the river above its banks and teams cannot pass to the landing. They are hauling the boats three or four miles higher up to a more convenient place. Meanwhile we drive into a little grove and camp for the night. Came about 12 miles. Old Boreas breathes upon us in great fury all day. Wind ceases about sunset.

May 19. Thursday—A very pleasant day. Hundreds of emigrants are waiting to cross. It is uncertain when we shall cross, as the boat is small, and takes but two wagons at a time. The boat lands in the water, the other side, and have to haul the wagons through water a considerable distance. Emigrants are pouring in like locusts with abundance of loose cattle. We have seen but one drove of sheep. Camp on the ground we occupied last night. The body of the man spoken of yesterday week, that was shot at the ferry, is found, as the emigrants inform us that have left since. It was a white man with an Indian blanket around him, endeavoring to steal on Indian credit. Judgment overtook him suddenly.

May 20. Friday—Stood guard last night, more for fear of white thieves in guise of Indians. than of Indians. Took an early start to the ferry, in order to secure our turn waited until 11 a.m. We had intended to have swam our mules as many had done with their cattle and horses, but after seeing a mule get drowned, we changed our minds and concluded to pay $1.00 per head than run the risque and beside it would be a saving of time. So our ferriage across a stream of only 30 or 40 yards would have been $22, counting out 2 mules for the purpose of hauling off the wagons as fast as taken over, which the ferry man did not charge for. But he finally agreed to take us over for $15. We had many sloughs and much water to drive through, to and from the ferry, as the river was overflowing its banks in many places. His price was $3 per wagon and $1 per head for horses, mules or oxen. Our ferriage at the Missouri was $16 and 60 cents. Five yoke of oxen were drowned this morning, as we were told, before we got to the ferry. One man who had crossed and had preceded us some 30 or 40 miles, had three of his oxen killed by the Pawnee Indians, and he was obliged to turn back. He was at the ferry today, trying to sell off his outfit. We, today, on crossing the Elkhorn, enter the country claimed by the Pawnees, who are said to be hostile, treacherous and thievish. Encamp with another train for the greater safety and intend to have out a guard tonight. This p.m. I was taken with a fever and went to bed. Our whole route today, after crossing the Elkhorn, was on a dead level bottom, between Elkhorn and La Platte rivers. Road was muddy, but not miry.

Came about 13 miles from ferry. Country beautiful and rich as the Garden of Eden.

May 21, Saturday—Weather very pleasant yesterday and this morning. Trains of wagons in sight behind us as far as the eye can reach. I think we are in advance of near all that have crossed the ferry since the storm last Monday night. Our camping place last night was on the gentle slope of the first high land between the Elkhorn and La Platte. Below this the bottom is wide, I should suppose 8 or 10 miles across and according to all appearances continues low and flat on a complete level between the two rivers, down to their confluence, which may be some 20 or 25 miles below the crossing place. Came 25 miles. The road we traveled today was along the slope of the bluff which on the N. side of the Platte is very gradual, but on the S. side high and abrupt, as far as we have conic. At night it threatens a storm. Camp with another train.

May 22, Sunday—A stormy night of thunder and rain. but little wind. Since we crossed the Missouri grass has been tolerably plenty, and would have been on the S. side, had it not been consumed by’ the cattle a thousand hills having been detained there waiting for their turn to cross. Not having any fuel and being cold and wet, we conclude to start on with the company. The road crosses the bottom and approaches the river and we advance some distance near its bank. Had much difficulty in crossing some sloughs that was much swollen by last nights rain, but after considerable hard labor and detainure we all got safe over. We halted about 1 p.m. to let the mules graze and to take dinner near the bank of the river. On a little eminence near us were three graves. The river resembles the Missouri very much, its current rapid, but not so muddy, its banks loose and sandy, and caving in, and it is full of islands. snags and sandbars and about as wide as Missouri but not so deep. After taking some refreshment, for man and beast, we and the other company proceed and encamp near the hank of the river. Came about 20 miles. John Wesley and Martha Wood taken sick.

May 23, Monday—Crossed Loup Fork, a large rapid stream. We swam the mules and mares, and through a kind providence no accident befell them, only two of the mules sank in the quicksand and fell, but they soon rallied. Pass several graves, one of which was made yesterday. On the head board was wrote, "Mrs. E. S. Wilcoxon, May 22, 1853." The road leaves the other, or south branch of La Platte and follows the north fork. All timber entirely disappears, only what grows on the islands in the river, which are thickly timbered with cottonwood, and the islands are so numerous, that they present a continued grove of timber, as far as we have traveled on it. Hills and knobs, resembling pyramids, appear in every direction, and present a romantic appearance. The soil gets more sandy, but appears very rich. Came about 18 miles, being detained at the ferry about three hours. The company that we have traveled with stopped too soon for us to encamp, so we parted from them and continued a few miles further. Encamp by the side of the road, with but little wood. but were not molested by the Indians. We have seen as yet but very little wild game of any kind. I suppose one reason is the road being so thronged by teams and droves of cattle and so much din and noise that it would scare lions, tigers and hyenas.

May 24, Tuesday—Yesterday and today bids fair for some pleasant weather, but we have a cool wind. We got an early start this morning. Our roads very good, but in places heavy pulling through the sand. The two forks of the river approach each other, so that both may be seen and the highlands, or rather sand banks, runs out and the dead level bottom extends from river to river, for 9 or 10 miles. I should judge the distance between them about eight miles. Both forks continue full of islands, which present a continuous grove of cottonwood, which is all the timber the country produces. Came 25 miles. Encamp on the bank of the river, some distance from the road. Towards night clouds appear below the sit n and it sets behind them. No Indians have visited its since we cross the Elkhorn. We heard that several oxen were taken from a company night before last, but have not heard whether they were recovered.

May 25, Wednesday—Morning cloudy and cold wind from S. W. Road runs through sand hills and ridges and is rather hard pulling in many places. Three buffalo heads lay by the road. They appeared to be recently killed, as their hide and wool was yet on them. The road today left the river out of sight and we saw no timber since In places the ground is covered with saleratus and the water, except the river, tastes slightly of it. Encamped among sand ridges, near a pond of none of the best water, being much infested with animalculae. Came 25 miles. Wind turns E. and threatens a cold storm.

May 26. Thursday—Took a start this morning in the rain, but it ceased before noon, but the wind blows very cold. We stopped at noon to refresh man and beast on the bank of a stream called by some Wood River. I suppose because it has no wood on it of consequence, and some call it Dry Creek. The cold wind and rain so affect my lungs that I take to my bed. Yesterday and today we pass many graves. We cross many bad sloughs and muddy road today. Came in sight of S. fork of Platte with its green livery of cottonwood. From Dry Creek we took a faggot of ash brush, it being 40 miles to any more fuel, and proceeded on, until we came to another stream, where many teams were encamped and many more had stopped to examine the best crossing. We ran our wagons into the edge of the water, after having raised the beds with blocks—took over the mules, borrowed some chains of those who had crossed and hitched the mules on the opposite side high enough on the bank to give them hard ground, and thus took them all over dry, while the most of those who crossed got their clothing and provisions wet. After we had got over, it was too late to proceed, so we encamped on the bank. Came 11 miles. We have not been molested yet by Indians.

May 27, Friday—Cloudy and cool morning. We started on, came to another stream about 10 miles from encampment, called Wood River, where there was a bridge of brush made by emigrants, which in a settled country would be thought impassable. But a kind providence has favored us much. While we hear of many accidents befalling others, we ought to be deeply humbled and very thankful. All the streams are very high and very deep and dangerous. Many streams do not have timber enough on their margins to make bridges and where there is, they are constructed in the slightest manner possible. The farthest emigrants ahead come to a stream too high to cross. They are then to choose between two evils, to make a bridge, or stay there till the water falls. Rather than to lie idle, they commonly, if the timber is to be found, cut 2, 3 or 4 logs that will reach across and pile on brush as compact as possible, until they are willing to venture their teams on it. It is performed with no idea of permanence, only for the present occasion, and perhaps the next freshet washes it away. We have crossed many such bridges and some we helped to make, and others to mend. But where there is no timber, emigrants have to wait until the water falls. This season has been very unpropitious, on account of high waters and backwardness of vegetation. Came about 20 miles and encamped on prairie mile from S. fork of Platte.

May 28, Saturday—Cloudy and threatens rain. Road continues all day from 1 to 2 miles from the river; a great part of the way on a bench or bank that runs many miles parallel with the river. Traveled part of the day with a company from Wis., Bad Axe Co., town of Springville, who were neighbors of some of my connections there. They had a yoke of oxen and a wagon that was purchased of a nephew, Henry Watters. At night we camp on the bank of Platte, which is high and full to two feet of the top of bank. About the time we unharness the mules, the rain commenced in copious profusion, with hail and tremendous thunder. The rain continued all night, but the wind was not so strong as is usual in such storms. The road today ran through a plot of ground that had been occupied by a community of prairie dogs; but it is evacuated, as I suppose, without resistance. The banks of Platte are very low, and as far as I can ascertain from appearance, overflows but little. Wherever we have seen it, it runs like a mill race. It is a difficult thing to get a view of the whole river at once, such a chance has not occurred to us yet, on account of the numerous islands, which pass and interlock each other. Where we are encamped a low ravine runs along parallel with the river, lower than the immediate bank, and but very little water in it. The little timber and shrubbery that adorn the waters of Wood River appears on our right most of the day; it appears to run parallel with the river a long distance. Came 18 miles. As soon as the shrubbery on Wood River disappears, a high ridge or bluff appears, making its way diagonally toward Platte.

May 29, Sabbath—We had intended to have lain by today, and tomorrow have done some washing, but there was no fuel to be had, and we were on the brink of the river and the wind blowing almost a hurricane from the N. and we were in danger of being precipitated into it. So we concluded it was advisable to proceed on our journey and stop where we could be more hospitably entertained. We soon approached the high or rising land, spoken of yesterday. We cross some steep and deep ravines. We pass several sheep, some dead, some alive, some no doubt that had given out and could not proceed further. Find among the emigrants some from Canton, viz.: John Bidamon and some of the shepherds. As we pass we discover a sheep not far from the road, and a wolf not far from it, casting a longing, lingering look towards it. Frank Dunning takes a gun and soon puts an end to his longing. We proceeded to a small creek that had some shrubbery on it and where water and grass were plenty and as the sun was low, we concluded to stay. Not long after we had stopped, three sheep came up to the camp as if for protection. But after night one of them was doomed to make a supper for a hungry wolf close to the camp. The two others are lingering around the camp, but, poor things, we cannot help them. Saw many wagons and droves of cattle over on the S. side of Platte, on the St. Joe road, and saw likewise Fort Kearney, as we believe, as we know of no other buildings this high tip on the St. Joe road. Came 16 miles.

May 30, Monday—Threatens rain this morning. Cool enough for March. We are halting between two opinions—whether to stay and do some washing, or proceed and put it off till a more convenient season. Several new kinds of shrubbery that is strange to us, appear on the plains, one very much resembles the quince, others, currants. And Flora has not been remiss in adding new specimens to her delicate hues and forms of which the yellow violet is one, and others which I cannot describe. Conclude to stay and wash, as the clouds are breaking away. Caught a fine mess of fish, and killed a duck. James and Frank go ovcr the bluffs on a hunting excursion kill two polecats and fire at an antelope, but he dodged their bullets. John Bidamon and lady gave us a call this morning, while passing us. An E. wind threatens a storm at night. Turns very cool.

May 31, Tuesday—Got rather a late start, on account of having a quantity of fish to dress and salt. Crossed Elm Creek, not far from encampment, on a brush bridge. Roads very heavy on account of the rain last night. Much of the surface covered with water. A company ahead of us kill three buffaloes. A drove of several hundred were about to approach their teams and they commenced firing on them, which started them off. In the fright they ran over one of the men and hurt him, but, I believe not seriously, and broke his pistol. In the engagement they wounded many more. We came up while they were dressing their buffaloes and got about 100 lbs., as much as we could take care of. We stop and encamp with this company on the banks of Buffalo Creek. Came about 12 miles. We get plenty, of late, of different kinds of wild game Antelopes abound here, but we have not captured any yet. The buffalo is excellent beef. Just at night another storm.

"The rough wind whistles o’er the plain, The storm descends in floods of rain, The thunders roll, the lightnings glare And sable clouds obscure the air."

June 1, Wednesday-- A very stormy night. This morning Buffalo Creek was so swollen that it was so near surrounding our wagons, that we had to run them back by hand. Two men called upon us this morning, who were stopped 12 miles ahead, who were on hunt of their teams which had absconded night before last. They have searched for them ever since without success. They are in much trouble, fearing they have been ran off by a stampede by the Indians. There were 58 head of oxen and cows. A man from some of the companies ahead of us is lost. He left the camp night before last. Many are on the hunt. A stampede came off last Monday. A company in the rear of us about miles with horse teams. The horses took a fright in the morning, before harnessing tip, and started on the road. In their flight, they passed some companies with ox teams which also took fright and ran some distance before their drivers could succeed in stopping them. But no harm was done, that we have heard of. The horses came by us in great fright. We tried to stop them, but in vain. We were apprehensive that our mules would take the panic, but they did not. The horses ran about 12 miles. This cloudy and stormy weather affects my lungs and my cough is very tight, and in addition to this I am seriously afflicted with constipation. I go many days without a passage, and physic does not relieve, only during its operation. Buffalo Creek, on which we are encamped, is swollen and running over its banks; and here, I suppose, we must stay until it runs down. Many teams and droves pass us, but we think it advisable to stay this side of the fording place, where there will be a better chance for grazing, than in such a crowd—as they cannot go beyond the fording place. The weather is unsettled and threatens storms.

June 2, Thursday—This morning a cold wind from the N. This morning the creek had fallen about 9 inches, but soon commences rising again from last nights rain. It is cloudy, but does not threaten rain immediately. The road is filled with trains passing us, going on to the ford. But we choose to stay here until the creek runs down, rather than to be in so large a company, where grazing must necessarily be more scarce. Last Tuesday saw two Indians, the first we had seen since we left the Omahas, who were very sociable; but the Pawnees appear to be more shy and wild. About 11 a.m. water begins to fall; about 12 M. clears off beautifully and the sun looks with a benign countenance upon us, and everything begins to look cheerful, except the high waters, and the mud. It really begins to feel like spring. Since the sun came out of its hiding place, we commence spreading out our clothing. bedding, etc., to take an airing, and to gathering up sticks among the flood wood, to make fire enough to barbecue our buffalo beef. The buffalo chips are so water soaked they will not burn. The water that we are obliged to use is very bad. All the streams of any magnitude are thick with mud and that in the ravines and ponds are thick with animaculae. There are no springs here. We have, as yet, not been troubled much with saleratus water, on account of the abundance of rain which neutralizes it. A man called at our camp a little after dark to enquire about the train that he had traveled with; said that he had fell behind on account of his son-in-law, who had been drinking and had lingered behind in some company. But getting concerned about him, stopped and started back on the hunt of him, and found where he had driven into Buffalo Creek about three miles from our camp, and being intoxicated, thought it was only a shallow slough, such as frequently occur on our road, and found his wagon and horses floated down and lodged on a shoal and the horses both dead, but the man they had not found. He had about $1.00 about his person. The father-in-law has gone to raise the rest of the company to search for him tomorrow. We have heard nothing more of the lost man, and lost cattle spoken of in Wednesday’s journal. If they had crossed the creek before the flood, probably they are found and have proceeded on their journey, or I expect we should have been called on to assist.

June 3, Friday—Cold wind this morning from E. and continues through the day, which will be pretty sure to blow up another storm. Mr. Barrett, father-in-law of the drowned man, Anderson, called on us this morning, just as we had harnessed up to start, and wished for some assistance. Franklin Dunning went with them and rode one of the mares and the rest of us started on. We proceeded on up to the ford, about 8 miles from our camp, and found it fordable. We continued on and passed many that passed us yesterday. At 1 p.m. we stopped to bait the mules and to take a cold luncheon, and Frank overtook us there. They secured what they could of the loading, but could not find the corpse, and they mean to stay until the creek gets lower. Anderson’s wife and child were providentially in her father’s wagon and thus escaped. "Strange that men will admit an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains." "But liquor is good in its place," say some. Very good. But common sense says that a miscreant that is 99 times out of its place to once in, better be dispensed with altogether. Came 22 miles and camp on a level prairie, near a stream of running water and no fuel except a little we had brought.

June 4, Saturday—Wind continues E. and threatens more rain. The bluffs on the S. side appear higher and very rough. The bluffs on each side the river appear to come nearer together. The bottoms of the Platte have uniformly ranged from 4 to 12 miles in breadth. Today the river washes the bluff on the N. side for the first time as far as we have traversed it. And the bluff on the S. side does not appear to be over 3 miles. Last night John Wesley and Martha was taken very sick. Came 22 miles. Encamp on a place environed by sand banks, near the river, and use river water, which is as muddy as Missouri, but otherwise excellent. The prickly pear grows along the Platte bottoms in great plenty and that on rich, low and wet grounds. Saw many emigrants and droves on the S. side. Many cross over, who say the grass is much better on N. side.

June 5, Sabbath—A cold wind from N. W. has faced us all day. Crossed Skunk Creek, the clearest stream we have seen in the territory. Replenished our water cans. The sand banks make down near the river in many places. which makes very heavy roads. We passed two cold boiling springs, the first we have seen in Nebraska. Replenished our cans again. Many emigrants were encamped here, though no fuel but buffalo chips. Martha has got right smart again and John Wesley is better, but yet confined. At camping time we drove about a mile toward the river, where grass was plenty and a grove of willow shrubbery for fuel. Pass a number of graves. Came 20 miles. We traveled under some disadvantages on account of a brisk N. W. wind bearing against us, which made it hard pulling for our mules. The winds in this open level country are powerful and nearly always blowing and so cold that I have not had occasion yet to change my winter clothing. We had intended when we started on this journey to have lain still on the Sabbath, but we oft times are obliged to stop at places to camp where we cannot get fuel and water to supply us. as we generally take wood and water with us only to cook supper and breakfast, which is as much as we have room for. Today I have been very unwell. I had a chill on me nearly all day, but my cough is abating. Many emigrants camp around us. A Sioux Indian travels with us part of the day.

June 6, Monday—Made an early start. Roads heavy and in a few miles joins the river and continues on and near the river bank all day. Crossed what the guide called Black Mud Creek, which was some miry, and we had to double teams. Cross three other streams not mentioned in the guide book, but not so bad. The bluffs on both sides of the river are lower, and come nearer together. The river is not so full of islands, and is getting mostly bare of timber, and the river seems to increase in velocity. Our guide book says there is n more timber on the N. side Platte for 200 miles from Black Mud Creek. Still pass graves. Pass one today, which was written on its head board, "I. Peaze, killed by lightning, from Illinois. May 23, 1853." Camp a little off the road, which runs on the bank of the river here and for the first time use buffalo chips, but they are too wet to burn, so we gather a quantity of dry grass and succeed in boiling the tea kettle and in baking some biscuits in our stove. Today there has been a stiff breeze from N. W., but not so violent as yesterday. But we have had two pleasant days except being so cold. Came about 18 miles. River 1 mile, ½ wide.

June 7, Tuesday—Beautiful and pleasant morning. Started in good season. The Platte forks here and we take up the N., cross Sand Bluff Creek, where the road turns off from the river, over sand hills and banks for about 4 miles and then Joins the river again. The bluffs, or sand banks, join the river on both sides. River narrower above the forks. Cross several streams of clear water with hard, sandy bottoms. Have fared well for water today. Weather quite warm. Wind S. W. On the road found a patch of the prairie Willow and took a faggot along with us for cooking. We have been living high for a week, or more, on buffalo beef, duck and fish. On several occasions we have got milk from the drovers. The road very heavy part of the day. Camp at the foot of a bluff, by the side of a beautiful little brook that comes from a spring in the bluffs. Such water is scarce in this country. The river water with all its mud has been the best water we could get. A little after dark a man calls at our camp to enquire for his company. He had heen out on the bluffs a hunting; had killed an antelope and had it packed on his horse. Had stormy night with much hard rain, with thunder and lightning. Came 20 miles.

June 8, Wednesday—A very pleasant day. Wind gently from the W. The river bottoms widen and narrow alternately. On one occasion the bottom so low, swampy and narrow, the road takes over the bluffs for a few miles. Cross Shephard’s Creek and Rattlesnake Creek. Killed a rattle snake of the large kind, the first we have seen. The Cedar Bluffs have extended along for many miles on the S. side of the river. The river washes their base. They are spotted with cedar shrubbery, to appearance about as large as hazel bushes. Some ledges of rock begin to make their appearance in these bluffs. These are the first stone we have seen on the river, except some small gravel, occasionally torn out by the wolves in digging their burrows. I was taken this p.m. with a distressing sickness at stomach. Took a dose of cholera medicine and the sickness left me, but a cramp pain remains. Come 21 miles. Camp 3/4 mile from the river. among the sand hills. Indications of rain. Found on the bluffs today, a different species of the wild rose from any I ever saw. The stock stands about 10 inches high and branched out very thick and filled thickly with leaves of a very deep green. The flowers are about ½ the size of the common wild rose and are the strongest scented of any variety I ever saw. The margin of the thick and tangled top is richly studded with these beautiful blossoms, which are of a deep scarlet. The stock, branches and leaves are themselves almost as ornamental as the flowers. They would be a rich accession to any flower garden in Christendom. Other subjects of Flora’s dominion abound here which are different from any I ever saw in any other country, and which, no doubt, if cultivated, would be an accession to the florist. Nearly all the species that are common in the states are of a different color, viz., the thistle, which in the states is blue or purple, here is yellow. The violet, which is pale blue, is here a deep yellow. The beard grass, which is commonly a little deeper than the violet, here is deep red, though not uniformly; they are of various shades.

June 9, Thursday—Another pleasant day. Feels more like summer than any we have yet had. The river today washes the base of the bluffs on the S. side. On one occasion today we had to retreat over the bluff on account of the encroachment of the river, but soon the river gave place. Much swampy ground impedes our traveling today. Crossed Camp Creek and Horn’s Creek and some others. Pass several patches of shrubbery of the choke cherry. Pass several head of cattle that had given out, and one or two dead, and likewise the carcass of a poor buffalo, I suppose shot needlessly by some emigrant. This is barbarous, it is cruelty and it is robbing the poor Indians. Camp about midway oil a narrow bottom with a plenty of large weeds for fuel. Came 18 miles. For miles, wagon irons, such as tire, bands and boxing and some potmetal, cooking vessels are scattered on the road, but none of the wood part of a wagon; that is more precious than iron.

June 10, Friday—The abrupt and rocky bluffs continue all this day on the S. side. The higher land on the N. side, as a general thing. approaches the river in a gentle slope, though there are many exceptions. Frank takes the gun and goes on a hunting excursion this a.m. and did not come to us till we had turned out for noon and brought two prairie dogs. They are a species of the squirrel and about three times as large as our common Illinois fox, or grey squirrel. The road good all day. Made 25 miles. Camp mile from the river on tolerable high ground to avoid the mosquitoes as much as possible which for two nights have been troublesome. The aspect of the country begins to change at the commencement of the Cedar Bluffs. The strata of rock begins to appear in many places on the N. side of the river.

June 11, Saturday—The river bottoms get higher and narrow and slope to the river. The abrupt ledge of strata on S. side disappear and rise from the river with a gentle slope. As we proceed the strata begins to break out on the N. side and soon we arrived at what Horn’s guide terms the "Indian Mound" and just above it the "Bluff ruins" which I had supposed to have been some of the remains of the labor of that unknown people who have in some age of the world performed so much labor on this continent, especially within the bounds of the Mississippi Valley. But I was disappointed on exploring theill. There arc the beds of several large streams, that flow into the river from the higher lands, through the bluffs at this place, and have worn and forced away all the less compact and solid parts and have left those that are more impregnable, which rear up their lofty heads seemingly in proud defiance of the "war of the elements." There is nothing artificial about them. I have seen none of those works of art spoken of above since we left the interior of Iowa. The river begins to lower its bed and the country gets higher. Below the forks in many places the road that we travel is lower than the surface of the river. It scents to have formed its own embankment, from its own materials. But here, it begins to retire to a more humble position. Camp in sight of the celebrated Chimney Rock, near the river bank.

Came 25 miles. Today we see several antelopes and many wolves, prairie dogs, and kill several rattle snakes.

June 12, Sabbath—Very warm today. Indications of settled weather. The fragments of the bluffs make a romantic and fanciful appearance on both sides the river. Some of the standing strata appear like towers and others like public buildings of various kinds. Very warm forepart of the day, with very little wind stirring, but in the p.m. a thick fog arose which darkened the whole horizon. Presently the wind from the N. W. broke upon us in great fury, so that we were fearful of having the wagons upset. We drove on for a while with the wind in our faces, and finally drove down near the river opposite Chimney Rock to encamp, although early in the day. Came 20 miles. A cool night.

June 13, Monday—A cool morning. Road for several days hard and dry with some exceptions. Frank kills a badger. Ground in places covered with prickly pear, both on the bottoms as well as the bluffs. A different kind frequently make their appearance, very dissimilar in shape, though the thorns are exactly similar and they hear a blossom that would do honor to any flower garden. They resemble the sweet pink, but are longer and more brilliant in color. A storm of thunder and rain comes up very suddenly about camping time and turns very cold. Camp opposite Scotts Bluff and still in sight of Chimney Rock, which is the fourth day it has been visible. Add 20 miles on our journey across the continent.

June 14, Tuesday—Took a pretty early start. Came 4 miles on to Spring Creek, where we had an idea of stopping, letting the mules rest and do up some washing, but on coming, found nothing for fuel and so passed on. A trader’s tent is established on this creek, for buying up cattle of the drovers, such as are about to fail, and to trade with the Indians As we passed on by the tent, we met three or four small companies of Indians and presently we saw a long train of Indian horses. I should judge 250 or 300, and about 150 Indians that were moving their tents and all their furniture, which were packed on their horses and their dogs, to some place near the river. I suppose their object is to be more convenient to the road in order to trade with the emigrants. They said they were Sioux. They were very friendly and sociable, with free and open countenances, well dressed in blue strouding and scarlet cloth and their faces were not disfigured with paint, like most of those immediately on our frontiers. While we passed through the Pawnee nation, they were very shy of us and we saw but very few. Came 20 miles and camp near the river. Mary Emeline has been very sick for two days with diarrhoea. Some better.

June 15, Wednesday. Stood guard last night for fear of Indian rogues. Pass a number of traders’ tents. A number of Indians there. Larramy [Laramie] Peak makes its appearance, which at first is mistook for a cloud. Several other high peaks appear which are of less altitude. We stop in good season to camp in the most convenient place we have found since we crossed the Missouri, with plenty of wood and happened by accident on a spring of good water, which we knew nothing of until we had stopped, thinking to have used river water, which is ½ mile. This place appears to have been a large cottonwood grove. There are now but a very few living trees, and the rest in every stage of decay. Mary Emeline is nearly well. My health improves. My cough is much abated, but my lungs swell, whenever I exert myself a little unusual, that respiration becomes very diffi cult. Just at night we take a bath in the river. Came 20 miles. It is generally healthy among emigration.

June 16, Thursday—Pleasant morning. We stop today to let the mules rest, to wash and to hunt and to write a few letters to deposit at Fort Larrimy. Yesterday James harnessed up the two loose mares and worked them in the room of the two mules that are failing. Had a social visit by a company of Indians with their squaws. Weather continues pleasant.

June 17, Friday Take an early start from our pleasant camping place. Came to the river opposite Fort Larrimee about 11 a.m. Made a short halt to deposit our letters. The river forks here and the south part is called the Larrimee Fork. The emigration all crossed here, that traveled on the N. side, until 1850 in June, Andrew Child was the first that went this rout. We conclude to take this rout as it avoids the rough road over the Black Hills and many sand banks, according to Child’s guide, and likewise saves crossing the Platte twice, although it is a little more circuitous. The Larrimee Fork is a handsome, clear stream. River bottoms get narrow and the river likewise. High peaks appear in many places. After we had arrived at the ferry we found that we could deposit our letters on this side of the river without crossing. We had to pay 10 cents on the letter to convey it to the nearest postoffice in the states. Last Wednesday there was a quarrel took place between the Indians and a Frenchman which ended (if it be ended) in the death of six Indians. All the particulars are difficult to trace and I shall not attempt anything more than the outlines. The Frenchman was, it seems, employed to take over the letters of the emigrants left on this side the river to the P. O. at the Fort. The Indians claim the ferry and would not let the Frenchman have the boat. The Frenchman then went to get assistance at the garrison and an officer came to set things to rights and the Indian fired on the officer, but it did not take effect. An armed force was then sent from the garrison, who demanded the offenders as prisoners, but they refused. Whereupon they were fired upon and six were killed and the rest absconded. One of the officers sent word to the emigrants to gather in large companies at camping time while passing through the Black Hills, as it may be they will try to take vengeance on the emigration. We passed on, however, with but little apprehension of being molested by them and soon arrived at the commencement of the Black Hills, as they are called. I suppose on account of the cedar shrubbery with which they are covered, which gives them a dark appearance. They consist of peaks, or points which remain of the original strata which have heen washing away ever since Noah’s flood. The road through them is very rough, hilly and crooked, as it is confined to the ravines and depressions between them. Much of the yellow, or long leaf pine grows among the cedars. They make a very beautiful appearance. Some juniper is mixed up with them, which are all the kinds of timber that grow upon these hills. Close bordering on the edges of the streams in these ravines, are frequently seen currant bushes, alders and rose bushes, with some other small shrubbery, that I cannot name. Camp among the hills, near a cold spring. with plenty of pine knots to burn and tolerable good grazing. Came 26 miles. Larramee Peak made its appearance last Tuesday and we have been approaching it ever since, and it does not appear to be much nearer yet. It is said that it is capped with snow, but I doubt it.

June 18, Saturday—Started tolerably early on our journey, where still "Alps on Alps arise." The road very rocky, hills steep and in places sideling, but no sloughs, mud or mire. The weather continues pleasant, though this p.m. indications of rain. Many elk horns are scattered among these hills, which denotes the presence of that animal. Found a mountain ram’s horn, that we judge would weigh seven or eight pounds. We saw one in Cainsville larger still. Road today came [to] the river in one place, where we stopped, watered the mules, took our dinners, but as there was no grass, did not unharness. River about 60 yards wide and runs like a mill race. Continue on after dinner until 4 p.m. where there was a spring and some grass. We pitched tent. Many of the emigrants are fearful of the Indians. Came 15 miles. Betsy and Mary are unwell, but not confined.

June 10, Sunday—Today the Black Hills are not so steep and abrupt. Entered on in a tolerably level plain of 9 or 10 miles extent, with ranges of abrupt hills on both sides and before us. Pass several tradittg camps. Pass many mounds of very singular appearance, some of them high, with perpendicular sides, others very much resembling those artificial mounds so frequently seen in Ohio, Indiana and Illinois. But on examination they consist of the original strata of rock, the same as the rest, and on account of their superior hardness have resisted the warring elements more successfully. They have no marks of being artificial. About p.m. a severe storm of thunder and rain came upon us. We drove into the bed of a dry stream to be sheltered by its banks, from wind, but soon the water in a rapid current came rolling down upon us and we retreated without resistance. Camp, as soon as we had made our escape, on the bank of the creek. Came 18 miles today. I am afflicted with headache.

June 20, Monday—Make a pretty early start. Road begins to descend toward the river, and we pass through the defiles of the hills, until we arrive at it. Here is a ferry kept by the French and Indians, and the rule is to charge all they can get and those who bid highest are put across first. One team just come over paid We continue near, and sometimes at the river all this day. Part of the road rough, but not so much as it was through the Black Hills. From the high lands back from the river it comes with a gentle slope towards it. But and high and steep pyramid-shaped mounds arc scattered here and there, and on the other side the river tic peaks are higher and present all kinds of shapes and forms, almost that can lie thought of, such as the ruins of old fortifications, palaces, castles. towers, cathedrals, pagodas, temples of Juggernaut, immense haystacks and ricks, etc. etc. We camped last night a little below Larramee Peak, and we camp tonight, to all appearance. but a little above it. It is on the opposite side the river. It has been in sight since last Tuesday. Came 25 miles. Camp near the bluffs on account of better grass.

June 21. Tuesday—Left the river in a few miles after we start and pass over a tract of country that was rotigli and barren, the soil almost destitute of all kinds of vegetation and rocks and stones lie in piles and appear as if they had been quarried, and between those piles, deep chasms are scooped out by some agent or other, which frustrates all my geological knowledge and philosophy. It would be natural to suppose that this agent was water, but many of them form complete basins. It appears by various signs, such as burnt stones, and red strata, that old Vulcan has had some forges here and likewise something to do in shaping or rather unshaping, the surface. After winding about through the defiles, between deep chasms and piles of rock. wherever ati opening presented, in a very crooked and circuitous rout, we made our escape to the river and had a pretty good road, the rest part of the day. Early this morning James killed a hare or mountain rabbit and we had it served tip for breakfast, which was excellent. Buffalo, elks, antelopes, hares and some mountain sheep abound here and might be taken in abundance, but we have not time to hunt, as our safety depends on getting through this long wilderness as soon as practicable, making allowance for accidents and sickness. Came 20 miles. Camp near the river and use its water. Passed some trading houses, French.

June 22, Wednesday—This day was cold enough for any part of March, and the N. W. wind was piercing. I had a chill all day and a very severe heart burn and kept my bed the whole (lay. Road generally .good today, with some very rough exceptions. The road comes to the river and leaves it frequently. It runs along sometimes in the edge of the water for short distances. Came 22 miles. Camp on a bottom ½ way between bluff and river. It rained a considerable part of the day. Larramee Peak has disappeared.

June 23, Thursday—Betsey very bad with diarrhoea. But we start on and soon have to stop and bathe her feet and administer such medicine as we thought would be best. Cold morning but clears op and gets warmer. The peaks on the other side the river present a white appearance which the emigrants say is snow, but I doubt it is nothing but bleached rock, although snow might have been a foot deep anywhere in the valley, had nothing hindered but the temperature of the atmosphere. An emigrant that passed us called on us and gave its some medicine. which he said never failed during diarrhoea. We had several kinds that we brought with us that did not seem to have much effect, so now we are administering the new. I forgot to mention in yesterday’s journal that James started at 12 M. with his gun to kill some game, while the rest traveled on. He wounded two antelopes, so that they fell atid lay till lie got nearly to them, but rallied and ran over the sandhills and rocks until he got tired chasing them, especially as he had a long distance to travel to our camp. After sunset he was glad he had not brought his game, for the wolves surrounded him and serenaded him until he came near the camp, which was late at night. Today John takes a hunting excursion, bitt only wounded an antelope. but did not capture it. Saw a great number more, but they are very wild and wary. Camp near the batik of river. Fuel plettty, but little grass. Came about 2 miles.

June 24, Friday—We start on with an intention of stopping when we came to better grass if it should hurt Betsey too bad to drive. After trying it she concludes that we can drive on. We pass the upper and last ferry on Platte, where the emigration all travel the same road as far as S. Pass. Came 14 miles. Camp a mile from river, with no fuel but sage and scant of grass. Road thronged with emigrants before and behind its all day. Directly after stopping the two Johns go out to kill some game. About sunset they come in with a young antelope. Get a good mess of milk from the drovers. Betsey gets some better.

June 25, Saturday—After breakfasting on antelope veal, we resume our journey. The road forked near our camping place.

The new fork leaves the river and is destitute of any but poison water for 20 miles. The other continues up the Platte for 10 miles. We take the old ad and when we came to the place of our final departure we water the mules, fill our cans and took leave of our old friend and took up over the hills. We had a rough road for a few miles, but at length it became more even and level and spread out to considerable distance between the peaks and left plenty of space for the road to pass between. At length we arrived at the Willow Springs, where the road comes together again and where we had intended camping. It has been a noted camping place on account of the water, fuel and grass. But we found the grass all pastured out, the willows all consumed, and teams and people enough there to use the water about as fast as it came from its fountain. So we watered and continued on our course, with an intention of finding grass if no other accommodation. We asenced Prospect Hill. which commenced at Willow Springs. When we arrived at the summit, about 1 ½ miles, the country opens on a level plain for several miles and then another range of high peaks and ridges present themselves. Toward evening the wind arose and blew quite a gale. We whirled the wagons around to stand endwise to the wind, when the rain began to fall in torrents. But the wind soon subsided, the rains ceased and we had quite a pleasant evening. By prospecting a little we found pretty good grass and having some water in our cans and the mtdes having been watered at Willow Springs. we conclude to encamp, having plenty of sage for fuel. In the vicinity of Willow Springs there were many dead cattle and horses, which I suppose had drank too freely of the alkali lakes along the road A sad accident happened today to a man near us. He was pulling his revolver out from the wagon, which had been stowed away among other things, and it got hitched and sprung the lock, discharged and nearly ruined one arm. Bet sey is some better, but is vet very bad. Came 22 miles.

OnJune 26, Sabbath—Not having accommodations here, we start morning. Country the same for some miles, the soil a light gray, which is a mixture of gravel, sand and clay. Cross several beautiftul streams which were fed by springs. At length we descend into a valley, and soon arrive at Sweetwater, a branch of the Platte. Found a great concourse of emigrants there. We continue up the river and pass Independence Rock, which is a little below the lower ford. This rock is a great curiosity. Its form is an oblong cone, lying N. E. and S. W. Its S. W. end reaches near to the river. It is perfectly bare of vegetation and is probably 100 feet high and very steep. The guide book says it is 6 or 700 yards long and 120 to 150 yards wide. Devil’s Gate is just above us. We camp about half way between it and the rock. Guide hook says, "This is a curiosity worthy the traveler’s notice; the rocks are 400 feet high and perpendicular, through which the Sweetwater forces its way. The best view is from the east end of it, into which yon can go some distance." Betsey is very sick this p.m. Came 19 miles. Yesterday and today we pass much alkali water. High, steep and ragged rocky ridges appear on every hand, running seemingly at random in every direction. We don’t cross the river tonight on account of getting better grass, as nearly all the emigration that we have found here have crossed over to camp tonight.

June 27, Monday—Very windy last night, so that we were apprehensive for otir safety and the wind continues all ay from N. W. It spit some snow, sleet and rain. Cold as January. Lay by today on account of Betseys illness, who is yet very bad. We suffer much with cold today. James and John P. this morning take an excursion out to the mountain and visited the Devil’s Gate. As it was open, they walked in it some distance. For as a general thing he keeps all his gates open. It is a great curiosity. They kill a curlew and return. In the p.m., J. W. and F. D. visit the gate. etc. We have no fuel but sage to make fire, and that rather scarce at this place. The road is filled with emigrants and droves passing us all day. This country, they say, is claimed by the Crow Indians. We have not seen many yet and what few we have are friendly and sociable.

June 28, Tuesday—We start this morning and cross the ford of Sweetwater, with an intention of stopping as soon as we could find better accommodations for camping, provided that Betsey could not bear the jolting. - The road being generally good and smooth today, that she did not complain much and we continued on till regular camping time, driving rather slow. Cross two or three handsome streams, falling into Sweetwater. Close by and a little above the Devils Gate is a little cluster of cabins, occupied, I suppose, by the Mormons as a trading depot. They likewise have a ferry on Platte. Met a train of mule packers from California. They left 16th of May, the same day that we crossed the Missouri.

They say provision is cheap and plenty in California and the miners have done well. Passed many Indian wigwams which were erected near the Mormon establishment. Drove a considerable distance from the road to find grass, fuel and shelter from the wind, and find a good shelter and plenty of sage, but grass scant, and no water but alkali however, we brought our cans full that will do us toiiight. Saw snow on many of the peaks. Made 14 miles. The Califorina train say they met the first emigration at Salt Lake, which is 250 miles from us.

June 29, Wednesday This morning, and even the whole day, cold and wiiidy. We all wear our winter clothing and stiffer with cold at that. Betsey is considerable better today, and bore the jolting very well. The road has generally been smooth today, excepting two or three short and steep junctures. Came part of the day through heavy sand. Saw many dead cattle and several graves, which we have noticed almost every day for many miles. We continue all day, near the Sweetwater and came several times to its banks. We took supplies from it and also watered the mules. It is the best water the country affords. Almost all other is considered poisonous. Our camp last night was near an alkali lake containing about 100 acres. Came 24 miles. Grass very scarce anywhere near the roads, being consumed by the numerous herds of cattle that pass through, and no doubt will be to the forks of the road. We had no scarcity until the roads all united. We camp in rather an incommodious place, both for fuel, water and grass.

June 30, Thursday—Cold morning, but in other respects pleasant, clear and no wind, but after a while the wind arose and it became quite dusty. Passed many ox teams and droves, which is quite troublesome, on account of having to leave the road and driving over rough ground in many places. At length we overtook a drove that was fully a mile long. The ground being very rough and the jolting of the wagon being very severe on Betsey, yet for peace sake we turned out and drove a little distance, although we were under no obligations so to do. The road being very wide and there being plenty of room to drive along the side on level ground without interrupting the cattle, we took to the side of the road, but the Boss with three of his satellites came riding up in great rage and ordered us all from the road with the authority of a sovereign and the Boss began to whip the mules, which turned them a little from the road. I ruminated over Paley’s Moral Philosophy with great velocity. I am not an entire non-resistance man. but I studied pro and con in great haste. I knew they deserved a good chastisement, but if we came to blows, let which side would gain the victory, it would detain us, no knowing how long, and we possibly might get crippled in the combat, Or if we killed, or crippled any of them. in either case the privilege of driving a short distance in the road would not quit cost and the mere satisfaction of getting revenge would be un-Christian. So on the whole I came to the conclusion that it would be best to leave the road on the same principle as retreating from a polecat. But still my Welch. or the devil, or both, would not suffer me to give my consent that James should leave the road unless he thought best. But he was as far from it as myself. I had a very stout and peculiar made cane that I had been walking with, in my hand, fully equal to General Jackson’s old hickory cane. It had a snake of carved wood twirled around it. I took the lower and smallest end in my hand and went to the off side of the mules to keep the Boss from starting them off, and stood at their heads in case he should come up again to whip them to level him to the ground. I had no desire or wish to kill him, but only to beat a little common sense into his empty skull. But he did not attempt to whip them any more, but contented himself with threatening, swearing, foaming and fuming for a little while and his satellites were barking like a set of prairie dogs, the meantime. One of them ordered John W. to leave the road and drew his whip to the mules, but John caught his revolver and told him to whip the mules and he would blow him through. They all finally rode off as they said to get more help, but the Boss came back and with half a threat and half apology, concluded as there was a sick woman in the wagon, that we might go on. There were a company of horse teams in the rear of us, that were following on in our tracks. They attack one of their teams in the same manner they did us, but by this time, many began to collect, and they, with some great threats of a future settlement gave up the contest for the present. When the horse teams had collected, which before were scattered along behind, they held a council, rigged up their revolvers, went to them and demanded satisfaction and the drovers were very glad of the privilege of backing Out. So we all came off with whole skins. We passed the ice springs which is a great curiosity. It is rather a low and swampy place and a mas.s of ice lies from 1 to 2 feet from the surface the whole year. We pass a mass of ice lying in a nook at the foot of a hill about 300 yards off the road. A higher mountain peak made its appearance yesterday evening, than any we had just seen, all covered with snow. Today it makes a sublime appearance, the snow glittering in the sun. We see snow frequently in places not higher than the road, and some even lower. We came 23 miles and camp on the bank of Sweet-water, with good grass and sage. We passed over 100 ox teams today.

July 1, Friday—Morning cloudy and cold and a cold wind all day. Leave the river soon after starting and rise onto very high ground that is very rough and rocky, enough so to shake a rickety wagon to pieces. Pass one or two lakes that resemble soap suds. Cross several handsome streams that are branches of Sweetwater. the largest was called Willow Creek by guide book. There is’ a bank of snow lying under a steep bluff just at the ford. From this creek the road good to the main branch of Sweetwater which we crossed. Drive tip a little creek nearly a mile and encamp. Grass scarce, except sonic very stout, growing in a slough where it is very miry, and grass of poor quality. Several trading houses or wigwams are near the ford. Came 26 miles. In the p.m. wind came near upsetting the wagons.

July 2, Saturday—The grass being so scarce we conclude to start on before breakfast and drive on until we find it before stopping to cook. We are now going through S. Pass and we drive on as far as the Pacific Springs, and where we stop, turn out our mules to feed and to cook our dinner and breakfast at the same time. Make use of the waters of the Pacific for the first time. We are now in the verge of Oregon. Our drive today was a downhill business. We pass as usual many ox teams and droves. The weather is moderated, I suppose on account of our descent. Betsey is much recruited, sits tip some and begins to have an appetite. The high peak spoken of in Thursday’s journal stands a few miles to the right of road, as we pass the summit of the backbone of the American continent. There is an elevation on each side the valley through which the road passes, but not very high and the road good. At camping time we come to a creek called in the guide "Dry Sany Creek," but there was some water in it. but no grass. We conclude to go up this creek toward the mountain in order to find grass. We proceed up the creek about 3 miles and find a little grass and plenty of sage, but no water, as the creek was dry. We had our cans filled at the Pacific Springs and our mules watered but a short time, so that we could make out very well till morning. James and John P. take their guns and go on a hunting excursion. While they were gone, and Frank and John W. were gone to get some milk at a drovers camp that was near us, I took a shovel and dug down in the sand and soon came to water. A little after dark, James and John P. bring in an antelope. Came 22 miles.

July 3, Sabbath—We start on after breakfast and return to the road. Very pleasant morning with an Italian sky and just cool enough to be agreeable. Road good. Very barren country, producing scarcely anything but wild sage and a species of juniper. Pass Suhet’s (Sublette’s) Cut—off and continue on the Oregon and California road. Cross Little Sandy and continue on to Big Sandy and encamp on its banks. Grass rather scarce. Sage plenty. I was taken this p.m. with heartburn and sick stomach. Joseph E., the baby, was taken with something like the mumps. Betsey still mends. The road after the forks was not so thronged, which makes it more agreeable. The summit ridge presents itself much plainer since we passed the summit. They stretch along to the N. W. as far as the eye can reach. which I have no doubt is 100 miles. all covered with snow. Came 23 miles. Pass some dead cattle every day, which is no wonder, considering their numbers.

July 4, Monday—We start pretty early and keep down and near the Big Sandy for several miles, when we cross it. We continue down it till nearly camping time, where the road comes upon its banks, where there was some grass on the opposite side. We hold counsel whether to stop for the night or continue. But the uncertainty of finding grass before night, and as the mules were hungry and having but a scant feed last night, induced us to stop. The road descends faster on the west side than the east. Our course today has been onward and downward and generally is hard and smooth as pavement. The country is quite a desert. There is no grass, only on the margins of the streams and but little there. Pass many dead cattle. The emigration is far too large for what little grass there is in this desert. Came 19 miles. Today I am unwell and walk bitt little.

July 5, Tuesday—As soon as breakfast was over, we drive the mules hack, harness up and start. John P. was taken yesterday with what he thinks is mountain fever, but was able to drive. This morning he is much worse and Franklin drives his team. Country a desert. Road good as far as Green River, which we cross at a ferry at six dollars per wagon without the mules, which we swam over. We proceed on 6 miles farther along a stony, dusty, hilly road and camp on a dry creek with next to no grass. but find a spring ½ mile below and plenty of sage. I am unwell today and walk but little. Came 22 miles. We are among the Snake Indians since S. Pass.

July 6, Wednesday Did not start very early on account of giving the mules a chance to eat all they could get and to rest some. They are beginning to fall away. Met a California train who are returning back to the States with their wealth. John P. very sick. but towards night gets better. Martha complains of headache. Betsey gains strength slowly. I am some better today. Road very rough in places, with steep and abrupt junctures. but the greater part of the day good. In the evening we descend into a deep hollow with perpendicular and overhanging rock in many places. An excellent spring gushes out from under a rock close by the road, where we make a halt, take a good temperance draught and it being late concluded we would camp in this hollow if any grass could be found. After searching we conclude it would do as well as any place likely to be found by camping time and probably better, as fuel and water were plenty. After we turn out the mules Frank is taken sick. Came 18 miles.

July 7, Thursday—Frank very sick—delirious. We rise out of the hollow and ascend a very high hill. which, when we descend, found it very steep. We came down into a low valley with a beautiful stream meandering through it. The road turns up this valley and we pass an excellent spring. A jungle of willow, strawberry vines, gooseberry vines and some other shrubs, border the margins of this stream. We cross it in a short time and ascend another eminence and again descend into a low ravine where the road con tinues down for several miles with a ridge of snow-capped mountains on our right and a high ridge of bare rocks on our left. Many springs come out of the mountain and run across the road, which makes many abrupt jogs to cross. At length we cross a larger creek, which the guide book calls Crow Creek, which is very difficult. It is deep and the banks miry. James drove in his team first and the surge of the wagon as it descended drove the hinder span against the forward and the near hind mule got his foot over the whipple-tree of the forward, and the hook of the whipple-tree caught its leg and perforated it, which has injured him very much, besides the value of his labor. After this misfortune, go a short distance and encamp at the foot of a mountain where there is snow and water plenty and sage for fuel, but a small quantity of grass. Came 17 miles.

July 8, Friday—We lay at camp today to rest man and beast. The sick are recovering. The crippled mule does not appear to be hurt so had as we expected. It walks about and feeds and limps but little. Emigrants that we passed yesterday, repass as today.

July 9, Saturday—Directly after starting we ascend a very high and steep peak and a great part of the way tip on an inclined strata of rock which was just wide enough for a wagon to pass, and on either side the next thing to being perpendicular and the ascent steeper than a common roof. After we arrived at its summit, the road was good for 3 or 4 miles to Ham’s fork, where we had a long and steep hill to descend. Cross Ham’s fork without much difficulty and encountered another hill, but not steep only in one short pinch near the bottom. From thence we ascend a very long and in places, very steep hill. Here we stop near its summit, where there was a jungle of quaking asps and a little stream of water running down from a bank of snow just above us, to rest the mules and to take dinner. Thence we proceed and pass through a very thick grove of pines and aspens, and continue to ascend a higher peak than any we had encountered. The road at the summit turns in a southerly direction to avoid impassable gulphs that lay in our course. Presently the road takes a turn and proceeds down way steep and stony ravines where we had to double lock and rough lock the wheels in order to keep the wagons from running over the mules. In this kind of style we got down to the bottom without any serious accident and crossed Stony Creek. Here we had another eminence to encounter, but not so high or steep in our ascent. but this was all made up in our descent, which was steeper than either of the others and crooked and sideling and stony, and lauded us in the deep and low valley of Bear River where we encamp. From Ham’s fork the soil begins to be more fertile and many small and thick jungles of aspens and pines make their appearance. and vegetation, even at the summit of these mountains, show signs of fertility. The soil is of a reddish color. We pass many wrecks of wagons today, which were not able to weather those rough seas. We continue to pass many dead cattle and some horses. Came 23 miles. About 11 p.m. pass near a snow bank and take a quantity along for a cool beverage for the sick.

July 10, Sabbath—The road good along the valley for a few miles and until we came to *Smith’s Fork of Bear River, which was a very crooked and precarious ford. We likewise cross three other branches of less magnitude with little difficulty, only the last one approaches so near a point of perpendicular rock that it did not leave room for a road, without driving over rocks as large as cooking stoves. At these crossings, which are in a few yards of each other. there is a small grove of the bitter cottonwoods. The bark resembles the aspen, but the leaves resemble the willow. It bears a sort of cotton similar to the cottonwood. We drive on a little above this stupendous point of rock and stop to bait both man and beast. John W., Martha and the rest of the sick, are getting on their feet. After we had got around the point where

"* * * rocks piled on rocks

Lift up their craggy heads above the clouds,

And there holds contest with the storm, and bids

Defiance to the angry bolts of Jove,"

we had a good road all the rest part of the day, with tile exception of a bad slough that had a toll bridge over it at 25 cents per wagon and team, kept by a man that had been in the employ of a Hudson Bay Company, who has left it and taken up with these Indians and has lived among them five years. He has fixed his wigwam near the bridge and lives there with his Indian family. We could have crossed this place without the bridge, but we wished to favor our fagged out mules. We encamp on tile banks of Bear River, where there is plenty of grass, good water, but fuel scarce. Came 20 miles.

July 11, Monday—We pass many excellent springs and rills. issuing out from the mountains, nearly cold as ice and clear as crystal. All the rivers and streams among these mountains run very rapid. The road good as long as it continues in Bear River flats. Before we leave it we cross Thompson’s Fork on a toll bridge at 50 cents per team. However, our three wagons and teams were let pass for $1.00, for fear, I suppose, that we would ford it. There are many Canadian French and halfbreeds and some Americans that have taken up with these Indians and live among them. who keep these ferries and toll bridges and charge without conscience. After crossing this bridge we soon leave the valley of Bear River and again encounter the everlasting hills. At the beginning of our upward course to these places of the earth, we go lip about a mile so steep that we have to stop often to rest man and beast. After we had gotten to what we had thought its summit, we discover attother eminence. However, this was not so dif ficult to ascend as the first. After gaining its summit a deep and steep ravine makes its way down the other side. While on this summit, we turn out the mules to rest and graze as grass was good and to take some refreshment. After this we encounter this ravine until the road takes tip another, which, though not so steep, affords but a very narrow passage. In one place a rock has tumbled down the precipice from above and almost blocked up the passage, so that a wagon could just wedge through. However, we got through tlnd mounted another eminence and from thence soon came to anOther jumping off place, but not so long or stony or sideling, though full as steep as those mentioned in the journal of last Friday. This landed us a second time into the valley of Bear River. Here we pass a blacksmith’s shop, who has established himself here to repair crippled wagons, and it is to be feared more to skin emigrants. if we may judge from his price for setting wagon tire, which was $8.00 per wagon. After passing this shop a short distance we encamp under a low bluff about three-quarters of a mile from the river and not far from an Indian village, some of whom visited us. They were friendly and sociable. James and John W. go down to the river and catch a mess of trout and perch. We arc now amongst the Shoshone Indians. Came 18 miles.

July 12, Tuesday—We proceeded on down the valley of Bear River. Cross many beautiful spring branches. issuing from out the mountains and making their way to the river with velocity. Among others we cross Indian Creek, which was the largest. At length we come where bluffs join the river un both sides, where we camp at a spring at the side of the road, that Jacob’s Well could not exceed, cold as the eternal snows on the mountains aiid clear as crystal, issuing out of the ground in a large stream. But such springs are common in this country. Much flax grows on both the mountains and in the valleys. It is now in bloom and some have formed boils. We stopped at this place at 3 p.m. because there is no more water for 16 miles as we take a farewell of Bear River here. James and John W. go in the river to fish, without success. Came 19 miles. Had a frost last night.

July 13, Wednesday—We leave the river for 17 miles though frequently in sight. The river winds along on the breaks or declivity of the mountains toward the river and join it without leaving any flat or bottom land. We came to the Soda Springs about 1 p.m. and visited them about an hour. There are two large mounds from 15 to 20 feet high, made of incrustations. formed from the peculiar properties of the water, of a white chalky substance. On these mounds in many places, the water belches up as though forced by a gas, which is contained in bubbles, which on reaching the surface bursts and the vapour, if inhaled, has the same effect on the olfactory nerves as ignited sulphur. There are but few of these issues that run over and they soon sink and leave a sediment of which the mound is formed. There are many of these mounds, the incrustations of which are of different colors, some red, yellow and grey, of the same color as the water which belches up. When the water reaches the surface, it forms a crater or basin, and the gas which forces it up escapes by the bursting of the bubbles and keeps the surface of the water in motion like the boiling of a pot. The water is warm, but of different temperatures. in different places. We unharnessed and baited the mules a little below time two principal mounds, on the banks of Sugar Creek where there was good grazing. After this we proceeded on a few miles down time valley not far from the forks of the road we encamp on the bank of the river, which bank is 100 feet high and perpendicular rock of granite. On the opposite side a rock bluff, whose base is washed by the river, rears its lofty head to the height of 600 feet. It is covered with cedar, pine and fir. Came 20 miles. John W. still keeps his bed, eats little.

July 14, Thursday—Soon after we start we come to the forks of the road. Here we take a final leave of Bear River and get on the Partenith (Port Neuf), the first waters of Columbia. the headwaters of which approaches so near to the bend in Bear River, where we encamped last night, that we enter into its valley through a gap without climbing the mountains. After we got on this fork of the road there has been no scarcity of grass and that of the best quality, and the road is not so thronged. We travel alone nearly all day, only we pass a few ox teams. A few miles after we pass the forks we came to the Beer Springs, as great a natural curiosity as the Soda. It issues out from under a low ledge of rocks at the foot of the mountains, in a large bold running stream, and many smaller issues come out above the rocks, just over the principal one. It forms incrustations, the same as the Sodas, but is very different in its qualities. It has formed a crater or reservoir, with embankments of a white, chalky substance and stands filled with water as clear as crystal, considerably above the surface of the gronnd. This embankment has a rent in the side of it, which lets it out in a hold stream. It boils up from the bottom like a common spring, which keeps the surface in motion, btit it is not forced tip by gas, like the Sodas, but runs spontaneously. Its taste very much resembles small beer and to me is not at all disagreeable. I drank nearly a pint and it had no bad effect, but set me to belching wind from the stomach, on which it set very light. But I am not acquainted enough with chemistry to explain the phenomena of either this or the Soda Springs. The waters of all these springs are of an unnatural warmth, which proves that in their subterranean passages they come in contact with some of Vulcan’s forges. We meet a man from Portland who is on a speculating tour— buying up tired out cattle from emigrants. The country gets more fertile and more natural to grass than anything else. Sage which seems to choose the desert, has almost disappeared. We camp on a creek emptying into the Partenith (Port Neuf), very near the foot of mountains. Came 22 miles. The man from Portland gave us good news from the settlements respecting the plentifulness and cheapness of provisions. We have very cold nights.

July 15, Friday—Get an early start. Wend our way along between the creek that we camped on and the foot of the hills for a few miles, when we came to a toll bridge which the water had washed away, all except a portion which crossed the deepest channel. and the rest of the way had brush thrown in to make tip the deficiency, but it took the wagons to the hubs. As it was, paid 50 cents for the three wagons. After this we commence again to climb the everlasting hills, as the valley was too crooked. We traveled upwards about 3 ½ miles, part of the way very steep and then were but half way to the summit, but the road took down a ravine toward the valley and was very rocky, sideling and many short pitches. While going down this defile we pass some of the most splendid springs I ever saw. The ravine that we started down soon became a large creek, being augmented by many springs. We continued down this creek till the valley of Portesmith (Porte Neuf) opened before us, and on the banks of this creek we encamp, just after entering the valley. Came 23 miles. Good grass, good water and some sage. Some pines and cedars on the sides of the mountains and some of the peaks covered with good grass to their summits even to the very edges of snow banks.

July 16, Saturday—Get an early start. The road continues on a kind of upland plain, or table land all this day. Cross a creek that I cannot name, with a very high and abrupt bank to descend. which was dangerous. At length we arrive at the ferry on Partenith (Port Neuf ) and cross at $3.00 per wagon without mules, which we swam. The stream is 5 rods wide and the boat or scow not more than 5 feet longer than the wagon without the tongue. We let the mules bait awhile at the ferry, after we swam them Over, after which we start on and soon again rise onto the table land which is barren, bearing scarcely anything but sage and many sandbanks and ridges. At length we camp on the brow of a sandbank, where there was water and some grass at the foot and sage for fuel. We were here attacked by an army of the most bloodthirsty and resolute mosquitoes that we had yet encountered. Came 23 miles. Pass the forks of road and take west side.

July 17, Sabbath—Road continues through the same kind of country. We had some trouble in crossing a creek which at the place of entering was 2 ½ or 3 feet perpendicular. We got one wagon over, but the second the mules utterly refused to enter. We cut some willow brush and threw in, got a spade and filled in dirt over them and graded it so that with coaxing, threatening and cracking with the whip, we till got safe over. We soon came to the bank of the south fork of the Columbia River, called Lewis Fork and Snake River. The road continues on and near it till camping time and we encamp on its bank. The road today was rough, many steep junctures and the road stony and rocky. We passed a cataract on the river where the water fell 40 or 50 feet over a ledge of rocks. The rocks stuck out of the water in, places, all the way across. We make a short halt to view them. The valley of this river is not so fertile as Bear River as far as we have traveled it. The table land slopes from the mountains to the river and makes high and abrupt banks. This table land does not appear to he as fertile as it is on the mountains, but as yet we have seen but little of this valley. Came 20 miles.

July 18, Monday—Rough road all day. Cross several creeks with precipitous banks. Road very rocky in places, with many abrupt ascents and descents. Country little better than a desert. A kind of bastard cedary shrubbery stands in groups along the ravines and numerous kinds of shrubbery, which are different from anything I ever saw before, covers the ground, except in some low places, patches of good grass. One of the mules gave out today and we took him loose and drove him on behind and worked but one mule in the lead. In some places, mostly bordering ledges of rock, are clusters of the yellow currant, which bear very full and are far superior in flavor to any garden currant I ever tasted. They are now ripe. They are of a rather reddish yellow. Martha gathered some yesterday and made some pies, which we feasted on today for dinner. They were a luxury indeed. We get milk occasionally of the drovers who are very generous and will not take pay. There are some noble hearted and good people among the emigrants, as are to he found in any society, and some very mean scamps. But so it is all over the world. Came 23 miles. Camp on a creek that we suppose to he Raft Creek.

July 19, Tuesday—We lay at camp today to rest the mules, there being plenty of good grass and water to do some washing, although fuel rather scarce. I was unwell yesterday and today with pains in my shoulders and arms and across the bowels, with nausea at stomach and fever. The boys go on a hunting excursion without success, but afterwards catch a fine mess of fish. James buys a mule of an emigrant for $100.

July 20, Wednesday—We harnessed the new mule in the place of the one that failed yesterday and he performs well and we hitch the other behind a wagon. We think he got too heavy a dose of alkali water the day we passed the soda springs, as there was much in the road. The first thing after we started we had Raft Creek to cross. Called Raft Creek. I suppose, because there is nothing within 30 miles that a raft could be made of. Several streams on our route seem to be named from negative qualities, viz., Wood Creek with nothing but a little shrubbery on it; Sugar Creek, which runs through the soda springs and is so sour that man or beast cannot drink of it only in extreme eases, and so with Raft Creek. After examining the ford we found that its depth would take our wagons high tip in their beds, so we blocked tip the beds about 10 inches and thus got over dry. The road soon took up on to the table land which was very rough on account of rock and loose stone with which the ground was literally covered, a great art of our travel today. Otherwise the road was good. The everlasting sage seems to have taken full possession of the country, only occasionally, in low places, there arc glades of beautiful, nutritous grass. The road did not join the river today. We passed a swamp filled with flags and bullrushes, which grow very thick and high. We pass many ox teams every day. Came 23 miles. I am still unwell.

July 21, Thursday—The country seems to be smoothing down some, although peaks and pyramids appear in various directions. but at a great distance. But one peak that is covered with snow makes its appearance today. We have not been out of sight of snow since we left Sweetwater. The road level and good most of the day. But the latter part very rocky. We cross a pretty large creek about 11 a.m. A large company were encamped on its banks and were fishing with a net made of sheets sewn together. They arc laying by to rest and recruit their cattle. We cross without difficulty and turn out the mules to bait on the excellent grass along the margin of this creek. About 5 or 6 miles from this creek, we again come to Snake River as it is called, I suppose, because there are no snakes in this country, or at least, it is a very rare thing to see one of any kind The last I recollect of seeing was on Bear River. It was small and striped and of an amphibious order. John W. gathers a good mess of yellow and red currants. There are some whortleberry bushes here, but are not ripe yet. Camp on a high place about ½ mile from the river and near the road. Grass rather scarce. though sufficient. Came 18 miles. I am very unwell today, with headache and shooting pains all over me. The boys go down to the river and catch a fine mess of fish, kill a rabbit and gather a good quantity of currants.

July 22. Friday—Road good all day except the rocks. No bad hills today. There were two heavy showers today, the first rain of any amount that we have had since we left S. Pass. About camping time we arrive at a creek and plenty of good grass and dry willow for fuel, and we improve the opportunity and pitch tent, probably 3 miles from the river. I have been very sick all day and endured much pain. I have taken two large doses of physic, but no operation. Came 20 miles. We found much hail on the ground at and near this creek. Today we have not passed any teams, which is the first that have not occurred when we traveled, since we crossed the Missouri. Today we travel alone and camp alone, first time.

July 23, Saturday—The road very rough and rocky all day, but not many bad hills. After following the creek that we camped on last night 5 or 6 miles we cross it. It had worn its bed deep in the rocks and it was very steep and rocky, both in descending and ascending. Met a company of Indians, who, I suppose, were removing to another place of residence, as they had a number of horses loaded with their furniture. They said nothing to us or we them and thus passed without any difficulty. Killed a rattlesnake, which is the first snake of any kind we have seen on the waters of Columbia. The road came to the river about camping time, but afforded but few accommodations. We could not get within ¾ mile of the water on account of a rock bluff 400 feet high. There was a depression in one place where we throve down the mules to a patch of grass that grew on a small plat of bottom that spread out from the foot of the bluff. The river runs very deep, probably 500 feet lower than the common level of the country and in most places, wherever we have seen it. its banks are perpendicular rock Avery singular spring came gushing out of the rocks about two-thirds the way down to the river, which roared like the falls of Niagara, only not so loud. It was large enough to turn machinery and its water as it rushed into the river appeared to be very green. I have no doubt but it was salt water. I am still very unwell and keep my bed. Came 20 miles.

July 24, Sabbath—The road continues over a bed of rock which was very hard on the wagons. We find the remains of many a wreck. But the wood is used up for fuel, but the irons lie scattered all along the road. We still pass graves and dead cattle. We traveled on till 12 M. and came to the river, but found no grass. so after watering we again start on and come to a creek called Salmon Falls Creek. There we find a little grass and conclude to spend the day here, to recruit our jaded mules and to keep what remained of the Sabbath. Came 12 miles. But if circumstances did not alter cases we might conclude the Sabbath was not kept very reverently, for it being a great place for catching fish, the boys took their hooks and lines and at it they went and caught a good mess of salmon. If any excuse can be valid it is this we be getting very scanty of bacon and ham and are far from any place where our stock of provision can he renewed and a chance for catching fish does not often occur. We cannot take time to hunt wild game, for our safety, in a great degree. depends upon our making all the reasonable haste we can. Two Indians came to our camp just at night with a quantity of dressed antelope skins and moccasins and wanted to "swap" for shirts, powder and lead. These we had not to spare and the skins, though very handsome, we had no use for in our present circumstances. We would have bought several pairs of mocassins but they would not take money. They did not know its use or value.

July 25. Monday—Soon after we start we come to the ferry. over a rough, rocky, hilly and crooked road and find 10 wagons there waiting to cross before ours. Whereupon we unharness, throw our harness into the wagons and prepare to swim the mules. James hires an Indian to swim one of the mares ahead of them. We drive in the mules after him and they all get over safe, thank God. This is a dangerous place to swim beasts, as Salmon Falls is about a mile below, which roars like thunder. But places where the river is accessible on both sides at the same place are scarce, as far as we have traversed it. Yesterday part of a drove of cattle went over these falls and 15 drowned. After our turn came to cross it was late in the p.m. The boat was small and could take but one wagon at a time and the process of crossing very slow. The sun was low when we got over, but we harnessed up as soon as possible and went about 1 ½ miles to a large spring that gushed from the rocks in a large stream which ran down toward the river and along its margin was good grass. Here we pitch tent. We also had sage for fuel. John W. finds a human skull. Soon after we discover a grave on an eminence not far from the spring that had been dug open and a number of human bones scattered around it. Made but 5 miles today.

July 26, Tuesday—We collected all the bones we could find and together with the skull and whatever fragments of grave clothes were scattered around and the pillow which was under the head of the corpse and put them into the grave and covered them up as well as we could. We had nothing but a small fire shovel to work with. There was a board at the head of the grave on which was carved, "In memory of Ann Kiser, wife of Daniel Kiser, of Fort Wayne, Allen Co., Ia., who died August 26. 1852. Aged 25 years." After this we start on over a rocky road. We soon come to a chasm, down into which the road plunges, very steep and rocky and at the bottom is quite a large creek, which gurgles out of the rocks just above where we cross, as. clear as the atmosphere, then we take up a hill as steep and rocky as the one we descended. We proceed on a very rocky road, gently ascending until we get as high as the general of the country, where we come to a large creek, where many wagons and loose cattle were stopped, some on both sides of the creek. These people tell us we cannot get over dry. About ½ mile below, the creek had sunk into a deep and narrow fissure, or opening in the rock and there was a natural bridge over it but very narrow, and by hard climbing a footman could get across onto an island and from the other side the island in one place it was narrow enough from rock to rock to make a bridge by taking a wagon bed if it was a lengthy one. This is lie way those that were already over had gone and packed over all their loading by hand. We rode over one of the mares at the ford to ascertain the depth and found that it would take our wagon beds half way. We then went down to where the others had packed across to examine it and found that none of our wagon beds were long enough to reach from rock to rock. Upon this James determines to take a couple of halter chains and fasten up his wagon bed nearly to the top of the stakes and hitch on a span of the largest mules and the two mares before them, and thus try one wagon. So after fastening the bed so as to prevent jostling hack and forth too heavy on the stakes, with ropes, he gets on one of the mares and Frank sits in the front of the wagon and into the stream they went. The current was so rapid that a man could not keep his feet or save himself from being carried down by it. There were several large rocks in the middle of the stream, which required nice driving to keep off them, and the bottom was rough and rocky at the best, all the way across. On and on they go. the water almost over the backs of the mules, which brace themselves against the current and the fore wheels all under water, the bed tilting on one side then the other and threatening to take a plunge every instant. They proceed as slow and sure as circumstances would admit. We all stood on the bank watching them in great trepidation until (thanks be to that hand that is able to save) they came safely out on the other side. They succeeded so well that the other two wagons went through the same process. But another difficulty arose. How were we to get the women and children over? We dare not take them in wagons and we could not make a bridge for reasons above stated. At length (as the proverb says, Necessity is the mother of invention) it occurred that if the tongues of our wagons were any longer than the beds, we could take a couple or three of them, lash them together and put them across the strait where the water was roaring like thunder and boiling like a pot, stretch a lariat rope across, held at a proper height above the bridge, for the person crossing to steady by, held by a man at each end. We measured the tongues, found they would do, so at it we went and succeeded. By the time we all got over it was camping time. Grass was scarce but on searching we found a very good patch of grass on the margin of the stream 3/4 mile above us. and John W. and Frank take some quilts and take beasts up to the grass and lay by them to guard them through the night. After we had all gotten over, we were considerably pestered by a company of Indians who were all the time begging and as we feared, seeking opportunity to steal. Came 10 miles.

July 27, Wednesday—We left this place without regret, bright and early. Road continues rocky and uneven, though no steep hills. Today, for the second time on our journey, we travel and camp alone, although this is thought to be the most dangerous part of the road on account of thievish Indians. But we were not molested. Betsey is very sick all day and gets worse in the evening and is threatened with relapse. When we left camp we took but little water with us as we had been told there was a creek to cross in 5 miles, but this was a mistake. This day is the warmest we have experienced on the journey and we suffered considerably for water. Today our dog gave out, lay down and died. He suffered much on the road, thus far, but they are at an end. It seems like losing one of our crew. It was 12 miles before we reached any more water. We at length descended into a valley where there was a small stream, but the water warm and not very palatable. But there was grass in abundance so we stopped to refresh man and beast. The road keeps down this valley and we continue in it till camping time. Good grass in abundance. Came 18 miles. Yesterday and today my health much better.

July 28, Thursday—Three Indians came to our camp this morning and were very sociable. They did not beg, but while we were eating breakfast, sat off by themselves clamoring in their own dialect. After breakfast some of us gave them a luncheon for which they were thankful and to manifest their gratitude one of them took out some roots2 from a sack and divided them not to the children and gave some to the rest merely for a taste. They were really excellent and superior to the sweet potato. They were shaped something like an onion and would peel off in different divisions like that root. James enquired where they grew. He pointed off in different directions toward the high lands and if we understood him right the top was a vine that ran up and supported itself on the sage or whatever else was in its way. The ferryman where we crossed the Columbia has resided in this country many years, and has been among these Indians and speaks their dialect and appears to be a man of some intelligence. He says the Snakes, the Shoshones and the Root diggers are the same tribe and speak the same language. They all call themselves the Shoshones, or as they pronounce it Shaw-shaw-nees. After starting we soon leave the valley and take to the hills, which are not very high or abrupt and not so stony and much more appearance of fertility. The water where (we) camped being bad, we took but little with us, trusting to get better on the road. It is very sultry and we suffer considerable. especially the children. However, about 12 M. we descend into a valley through which a large and clear stream ran and plenty of the best of grass, so we thanked God, took courage and improved the opportunity and refreshed man and beast. Afterward we start on and soon leave the valley. We wound among the hills until we came to the foot of a range of mountains which crossed our way. This we had to climb; some places for 2 or 300 yards were very steep, then we would wind up the defiles where the ascent was more gradual. One defile was very sideling and for safety the wagons required holding by hand to keep their balance and the road so narrow that a few inches deviation from the accustomed track would have precipitated them down a steep precipice 300 feet into the bottom of the defile. We tried to let patience have its perfect work, labored on and at length gained the summit. The day had been warm and the rays of the sun oppressive until now, when a cool breeze and a cooler atmosphere made us ample compensation and seemed to give us new life. It was getting late in the p.m. and we expected to have had this mountain to descend before we could encamp, for want of grass and water. After we arrived at its summit the (road) continued along a tolerably level plain though very rocky for about 1 ½ miles. when we came to a ravine that crossed our road about 15 feet deep with abrupt and rocky margins and a level bottom about 150 yards wide, very rich and full of the best of grass, through which meandered a clear, cool mountain stream of the best of water. So we took the hint and unharness and put up for the night with sage or dog willow for fuel. Came 16 miles.

July 29. Friday—Get a pretty early start. We had expected to have descended a very precipitous declivity in crossing the mountain instead of which it descended gradually and in jogs or benches, so that we were all the a.m. in getting to its base, where we found plenty of good grass and good water, of which we availed ourselves of refreshing man and beast. Here we found two or three companies camped, who were resting and recruiting their cattle. We proceeded on in the p.m. over a rocky road, though not hilly. Pass much good grass, but no water, until it was getting late, when we came in sight of four wagons which had turned out to camp. We drove on and found a good spring and plenty of grass and sage. All kinds of small grain have their representative here in a wild state, even down to broom corn and in many places in patches there is the real bonafide red clover, as real as any that ever grew in a meadow. Betsey is yet very sick, not able to sit up. Came 23 miles. A man from Willamette to meet his family camp with us.

July 30, Saturday—A very warm morning, portentous of a warm day. Soon after we start we came to the hot springs. They are a great curiosity. Notwithstanding it being so warm, they smoke or fling up the steam like a cauldron. They are hot enough to boil meat and potatoes. They burst out of the ground in streams large enough to make quite a brook in five or six places and these all come together in a few yards and make a good sized brook. The water is clear as crystal. We dipped some in cup to cool in order to taste. It had no bad taste. This I think is proof enough that old Vulcan has not entirely ceased his labors yet. There is a very green kind of moss grows in the water and vegetation grows very green even to the edge of the water. Had a rocky road all day. Cross three cold spring branches soon after we leave the hot springs and find no more water for about 10 miles, which we arrive at at 1 p.m., where we found plenty of grass and a cold and clear mountain stream. Here we overtake a train of emigrants s who had availed themselves of the accommodations of this place and we followed the example and Betsey being so bad and so bruised by jolting all day over the rocks, we conclude to spend the rest part of the day here. Came 15 miles. I am unwell today. I am troubled much with constipation and am threatened hard with diarrhoea. I have a constant inclination to vomit and raise and spit much mucous and I use mint essence and camphor, which is some relief. There are many wrecks of wagons along the road, wagon irons of all kinds scattered along the road and many first-rate ox chains. We pass many graves and many dead cattle. But nearly all the graves were made last year. We have not heard or known of much sickness on the road as yet.

July 31, Sabbath—For a few miles the road continued rough and rocky, but afterwards becomes smooth and for 5 or 6 miles level. The country gets more fertile, the everlasting sage begins to disappear and grass is getting the victory. On the flat bottom of the streams there is what is called wild wheat, but it resembles rye much more than wheat, both in the grain as well as the stem. It is very tall. The heads are long and resemble rye, all except the beard, it has none. It stands as thick and as clean as in a cultivated field. On the uplands grow several sorts of grass, different from any I ever saw in the western states on the prairies. The road in the after part of the day is very hilly, but not rocky. Betsey is somewhat better today. I am still afflicted with heartburn and nausea. We camp in a ravine between some high hills on a small stream and water not first-rate, no scarcity of grass and plenty of dry willow for fuel. Came 23 miles. We continue to overtake and pass many trains. We have had beautiful weather ever since we passed the summit of the mountains, with an Italian sky generally—a few days rather hot. but cool nights.

August 1, Monday—Last night we camped alone. This morning at the start we ascend a long hill, though not very steep. The road today very hilly, but not rocky, only in some places. Drive on till 2 p.m. before we come to water, which was about 18 miles. Then come to a creek after descending two long and steep declines into a low valley, through which flows the river Boise. Here is grass in plenty and we unharness to refresh man and beast. We try to catch some fish but fail, but gather a fine quantity of red, yellow and black currants which grow here in great plenty. After dinner we harness up, go a few miles till we came to the river and camp. This is a beautiful river, perhaps 60 yards wide, clear as crystal and lined by a grove along its margins of bitter cottonwood, water willow, alder, currant hushes and other shrubbery that I cannot name. It was a great relief to the monotony of the almost entire absence of timber for 1,600 miles. Two Indians came to our camp about sunset and brought a good mess of fish—gave them a supper and they gave us the fish. They wanted to stay all night and sleep by our fire and said they would guard our mules. Came 20 miles. Today the boys killed three sage hens, or grouse. They are something larger than our common prairie hen and far superior In whiteness, tenderness and flavor. Our Indians stayed with us all night. We found two companies at this place that had turned out a little before us. We generally feel safer to have company.

August 2, Tuesday—We give the two Indians a luncheon, harness up and start. For a beginning we have a very steep bill to mount. The road generally good today, with some rough exceptions. Overtook a company of ox teams at the river where the road first joined it after we started this morning. After taking refreshment we and the others start on together. At this place the road again takes up a second bench which is very abrupt. From this on the road is generally good. We soon leave the ox teams and travel alone till late camping time. We hoped to have come up to another company at the next camping place, but found none. The Indians being numerous here we would like to be as strong as possible. We are in hopes the ox teams will come on. as there is no water between us and them. We meet a company of Indians and squaws a little before we turn out to camp, who follow us some distance wanting to trade some dried salmon for powder or shirts. We told them we had not time then to trade, but we should encamp soon, and then we would see about it. They soon left us and about dark two of them came to us at the camp to see about trading. They brought their dried salmon, but on examining concluded not to take it, proposing to them to bring us some fresh caught, upon which they left us. The ox teams did not come tip, so we had to camp alone and we felt a little solicitude for the safety of our beasts. Through the day the boys kill two more grouse. Came 25 miles.

August 3, Wednesday—This morning we found nothing molested. The two Indians returned early with three very large sal-mon fresh caught. The three would probably weigh 35 or 40 lbs. James gave a fine shirt and some other articles and both parties appeared well pleased with the speculation. So far these Indians have shown themselves to be honest, courteous and sincere in their friendship and have not much doubt that the thefts that are laid to their charge ought to be transferred to the Anglo and French-Americans that live among them. Road generally good. We came a great part of the day down a level and fertile bottom. Grass of the best kind in great profusion. Arrived at the ford at 1 p.m. Took refreshment. James bought 20 lbs. of bacon of a company we overtook there. After this the other company start on before us and cross the river, blocking up their wagon beds to keep dry. but one of them took a wrong course, got into deep water, which took in their bed, half way up. We soon cross all dry. Camp on the bank of the river, the first place the road struck it after cross ing. Camp alone, though a company not far off. Came 20 miles Betsey some worse today.

August 4, Thursday—Get an early start and arrive at Fort Boise at 11 a.m. and found ten wagons waiting to cross at the ferry. We must wait our turn. They charge $8.00 per wagon. What villainy is this! A train crossed yesterday and one man in it swore he would not pay this price and finally started on without. The manager of the ferry raised about a dozen half-breeds and Indians who arc on the pursuit. This may have been done to scare those emigrants that are here, but have not crossed. But be it as it may the ferry man will see trouble when the emigration that are behind comes up. We know their minds well. We waited till our turn came. The boat was small and could not take but one common sized wagon at a time. The Columbia was three-quarters of a mile wide and they bad not hands enough to manage the boat over this rapid current, as so many had left to pursue the fugitive emigrant. James advised them to fall in their price to $5.00 the wagon or they would be sure to have trouble and at last fall to that, or the boat would be taken from them. The man who left there to oversee said that he could do nothing about it. as he was only employed there and did not own the ferry. James offered to assist with two hands if he would take us over at $5.00. At last he offered to reduce our ferriage $4.00 for our help, so at it we went and got over by late camping time. We had to swim the mules and mares. The place of landing on the west side was very abrupt, and one of the mules would have drowned without help. We encamp at landing. Three voting men who were traveling with a train that continued down on the west side the river came to our camp and wanted a little bread, as they said they had ate nothing but a small piece of bread in the morning. The train they were in had lost so many cattle that they left their wagons and disposed of their outfit as well as they could and could not take provision enough to do for more than their own families and that scanty. Wherefore these young men were left to get through as they could. They stayed with us a night. They said the road on the west side was lined with dead cattle and some horses. They said the dead cattle would average five to the mile all the way down from the upper ferry, which is 150 miles. The dry murrain was the principal cause, occasioned by long drives between water and grass. Came 12 miles. The road a low, level bottom and very fertile all the way.

August 5, Friday—The proprietor of the ferry returns this morning quite early with a great puffing story that he had caught the villain and made him pay the ferriage and $10.00 for the trouble of following him. But I doubt we shall hear another story when we overtake the company. We start in good season, travel 15 miles without water or grass then come to a beautiful stream, Malheur River. with wide and fertile bottom covered with good grass and camp till morning as it is said to be 23 miles to the next water. A man arrives here from Willamette Valley on the way to meet his family, whom he expects are on the way. He says a new road is laid off and cut out that will make it 200 miles nearer to the valley than the old. He is notifying all the emigrants. We shall counsel with the emigrants about it. The new road intersects the oil where we now are, viz., at the Malheur River ford.

August 6, Saturday—We travel today with two wagons with mule teams. We conclude it will be safest to take the old road. Pass a drove of cattle and several ox teams. The heat of the sun for three or four days is oppressive, especially when passing along ravines and hemmed in by hills on each side, though on high land or open plains there is at all times a cool and refreshing breeze. Our road today was confined through close ravines. We camp on a small stream called Birch Creek because no birch is on it. We here find four ox teams with tents already pitched. These, ourselves and the mule teams and the five voting men who come and camp with us at the ferry, whom we overtook today, are all here, which makes a formidable company. Came 22 miles. John W. has been bad with diarrhoea for three days.

August 7. Sunday—Today we travel a very hilly and in many places stony road. Betsy has considerable fever and no appetite. The two mule teams leave the company of ox teams they have been traveling with and join us, so now we have five wagons in company and no doubt at every camping place we shall find more. We have no fear of Indians. About 11 a.m. we arrive at Burnt River and saw nothing on it to indicate the name, only that its bed lies very low and is closely enclosed by steep and high hills that peer up to the heavens in steep peaks and the road taking up its narrow ravine for perhaps 20 miles and all air being shut out, the heat of the sun is so oppressive that it comes the next thing to burning up the weary traveler. The country along the stream as far as we have traversed it. possesses no form or symmetry but lies in random peaks dissimilar to anything that was ever seen or thought of before, wherefore it is hard to describe it. the language not affording a sufficient vocabulary, and if there be any place on earth that would indicate that the world was made by chance. surely this would be the place. We crossed this stream three times and encamp among the peaks, on a spring branch, where there is plenty of grass, dog willow and good water, so that this region of chance chances to furnish some accommodations to the weary traveler, for which our thanks are due. At this camping place we find the company to which the pursued man belongs, who as we expected, tells a different story. We continue to pass many dead cattle, so that their stench is very oppressive. Came 18 miles. We continue to pass many graves and nearly all that have any inscriptions are dated 1852. If I am not mistaken there are but six exceptions. But there are some that never had any inscriptions, or they are destroyed. Today another mule gives out.

August 8, Monday—We continue up the ravine of Burnt River and cross it six times more. Then we leave it to take up the ravines of a spring branch which empties into it. In this region of chance there is no other chance but to follow ravines and a very crooked, hilly, rough, sideling and stony road they afford. Pass through a grove in the narrow ravine of Burnt River of the largest Timber that we have seen since we left Platte, composed of the hitter cottonwood, balm of Gilead, quaking asp, alder and other kinds that I have no name for. James harnesses up the mares this morning and lets mules run loose. Betsy does not get any better. John W. is some better. We leave this first branch and ascend a high and rather steep hill, pass over it, descend another ravine of a spring branch, follow up this to its head, where there was a good cold spring, plenty of grass and willow for fuel, and pitch tent. Came 10 miles. Grass plenty in both bill and valley.

August 9, Tuesday—We continue our course up along the ravines that intersect Burnt River, until about 3 p.m., when we emerge again on one of the high places of the earth, by climbing a mountain 1½ miles and very steep, where we again inhale a pure, cool and reviving breeze and have a prospect of the surrounding country, which presents a very rough appearance although signs of fertility appear both on the hills and in the valleys, and the sage has almost disappeared. Betsy’s fever is not quite so high today. After ascending the mountain we travel but a short distance before we descend again into a ravine and continue up this till camping time. We pass a train of ox teams on the summit of the mountain and we travel near together and camp near together at a good cold spring and find a wagon which was left by emigrants and convert it into fuel. Here we meet two men from Willamette Valley, who are coming to meet their families. Came 17 miles. These men tell us that the gentleman that met us at Malheur ford was an imposter. That his motive, no doubt, was to get them into difficulty by taking them through a country where there was little or no grass and the danger of losing their cattle would induce the emigrants to dispose of their cattle cheap. That the men who had been sent out from the road company had returned to the settlement before this man had started, who knew they had reported the new route impassable. And they declare that if he turns any of the emigrants that way he will be severely punished, if not hung. Oregon emigrants are in ten times the danger from speculators, ferrymen and traders than the Indians. It is believed that nearly or quite all the thefts that are laid to the Indians are either done or instigated by them. We have proved them to he infernal liars on more than one occasion.

August 10, Wednesday—The ox teams get the start of us, but we overtake and pass them about 10 a.m. We follow up the ravines that we suppose put into Burnt River, until they run out. when we find ourselves on a high plain with a level space extending for 5 or 6 miles between two rows of hills, which save us a good and smooth road, bitt the dust was very oppressive. We were told that it was 15 miles to the next water from our encampment; accordingly we took what we thought would do its for drinking, intending to drive on without refreshing man or beast for that distance. But instead of 15 we found it at least 23 miles and that brought us to Powder River. We camp on its bank. When we arrove on the high land the Blue Mountains appeared with their snowcapped peaks and their sides covered with pines and other evergreens which greatly relieved the monotony of the nudity of the country for near 1.600 miles. We soon began to descend into the valley of Powder River, which is about 2 miles wide and very fertile and terminates on the west side at the base of the Blue Mountains. Last night we had a frost. The nights are much cooler than in the states. Betsy is some better. She begins to have some appetite.

August 11, Thursday—We hitch our donkeys and renew our line of march, leaving the teams behind that encamped on the same ground. Travel a mile or two and cross Powder River. The valley is about 8 miles wide and very fertile. We have good roads, speaking comparatively. We mean good roads if the sloughs are not over belly deep and the hills not right straight up and down and not rock enough to turn the wagons over. Travel 17 miles. come to a good spring, good grass and plenty of company, and as it was 5 miles to the next water and outrageous roads we struck camp. Franklin Dunning and myself were seized with a violent

August 13, Saturday—All the sick are a little better, but yet not able to travel. I suppose that there were about 30 ox teams passed while we lay by. They cracked their whips and rolled on gladly, as much as to say. "I’ve matched you for passing me.

August 14, Sunday—Father Allyn is a little on the mend, so as our provisions are getting short and we still are 300 miles from the settlements we thought it our duty to press towards the land of destination. The first 5 miles was composed of a long ascent and a long descent which was steep, crooked, sideling, and the road literally covered with rock from the size of your fist to any size not quite big enough to turn a wagon over, if you drive very careful. By locking both hind wheels and getting hack in the wagons and placing your feet against the bows the drivers all escaped being thrown out. Here we come to another skinning post in the edge of the Grand Ronde Valley. Sunday as it was be deliberately walked out to skin. So he made for mules and offer to sell Indian ponies, and as he could not skin there he walked in and got a beef leg cut off at the knee and offered it to us at the low price of two dollars. As we did not see fit to be skinned with a cow’s leg we pushed on to noon at the other edge of the valley. The valley here is from 10 to 15 miles wide and very fertile, surrounded by high mountains. the sides, coves and hollows covered with towering pines. Most of the ox teams lay by at the west side of the valley to cross the Blue Mountains, a 10-mile drive to the Grand Ronde River in the mountains and as we had a 20-mile drive to make without water the next day, we drove till after sundown to reach the river. Found the best of grass and encamped in a pine grove, it being the first time that we have camped in the timber for 1,500 miles. Though some ox teams started ahead of us at noon, we passed them and encamped about 3 miles beyond. Traveled 23 miles.

August 15, Monday—Elizabeth and father still quite unwell. We climb a mountain about 3 miles to the summit and the balance of the day we have it rough and tumble. We noon on the mountain and take our mules down into a doleful cavern and found a little grass and water, the pines growing as though they intend to tower above those on the mountains. So by locking and unlocking each wagon about fifty times and tumbling and sideling on till dark we found water but no grass, except very scattering among the thick pine. We let loose our horses and mules and let them drive as there was no spots of grass big enough. Traveled 20 miles.

August 16, Tuesday—John and I go nut to hunt the mules and kill four mountain squirrels. Find the mules in good time. Father is better and Elizabeth weaker. We jog on 15 miles over comparatively smooth road, though we descend the Blue Mountains about 3 miles in one stretch. We encamp on a little branch by a balm Gilead grove and about 2 o’clock strike camp for the balance of the day. Our town has fast improved, as a dozen or more ox teams have rolled into camp since we stopped. Elizabeth had a hard struggle at prayer and got a glorious blessing. Numbers of Indians visit our camp.

August 17, Wednesday—Elizabeth still very weak and no appetite to eat. We miss our match safe with all our matches, a 60 cent box of caps, three gun tubes, a tube wrench, four or five brace bits cole chisel and bullet molds and various other articles greatly needed. They were either stolen or lost. We travel 15 miles and as it is 15 miles more to the next water we strike camp about noon on the Umatilla River. The river has a narrow bottom and is surrounded by high table land and a grove of balm Gilead and other brush along the stream.

August 18, Thursday—Elizabeth still sick and no appetite to eat and seems to have settled fever with her diarrhoea. We trade a little; pay 15 cents a pound for onions and 25 cents a piece for small cabbage beads. We turn our heads west and roll on 17 miles without water. Meet some Indians and trade two shirts for two psalmon (salmon). Travel 18 miles and camp again on the Umatillah River 8 miles above the agency.

August 19, Friday—Cloudy and cool. We travel 12 miles over a sandy road from three to six inches deep. Strike camp on Butter Creek and find good grass and water. We camp about 2 o’clock as we are compelled to make certain drives and stop on account of water.

August 20, Saturday—Since the 11th James has attended to the Journal as I have been very deeply afflicted with diarrhoea, but through the mercy of God am convalescent. Betsey continues very feeble. She cannot eat enough to keep tip her strength. We travel today through almost a desert. Road part of the way very hilly and uneven and sandy. A high mountain peak makes its appearance this p.m. which we suppose to be Mount Hood, to all appearances about 100 miles ahead. This may seem strange to some people, but in this atmosphere it is easy to see objects that distance. We drove 20 miles to the Well Springs, which was the first water where we watered the mules and turned them out to graze and rest a few minutes without unharnessing. Then we start on and drive 15 miles in Willow Springs which was the next water. We drove a long time after night. Came 35 miles. Since we crossed Powder River we have been among the Cayuse Indians. They are becoming civilized. There is a mission among them supported by the Presbyterians. But it is to be feared that the traders or skinners is no advantage to them.

August 21. Sabbath—We continue to overtake and pass many wagons and sonic droves. The last account we had of the number of teams ahead of us was 300. We have passed many since that. We have seen but very few dead cattle for several days. We are apprehensive there will be much sickness among the thousands that are behind us from the malaria arising from dead cattle if nothing else. We hear disastrous accounts of the great mortality of cattle behind us; some have lost their teams and are obliged to leave their wagons and depend on the mercy and ability of their fellow emigrants for assistance. When we passed, the stench of putrid carcasses was very oppressive. But if they continue to (lie off in equal numbers the road will be completely lined with them. Betsey has had a high fever today and has eat nothing of consequence. My complaint is receding slowly. We had a rough road today. Came 22 miles. Camp on a spring branch within 5 miles of John Day’s River.

August 22, Monday—We start on and cross John Day’s River and follow it down about a mile and a half or two miles and camp, as it is 20 miles to the next water and we dare not rush our mules. We traveled only 7 miles today. While at camp we purchased some salmon that the Indians brought to us and our boys caught a fine mess of trout, and sisters Sarah Willson and Martha did some washing. Betsey’s fever continues. She took a cool bath according to the mode of the water cure system which relieved her some. She has no appetite. I am very sick today and in much misery in my bowels. John Day River is a handsome stream 50 yards wide.

August 23. Tuesday—In leaving the valley of John Day’s River we ascend a canyon or defile 1½ miles. narrow, sandy and very rocky. After we arrived at the summit we had tolerably good road a considerable distance. At length it becomes rather hilly, the land gets more fertile and the prairie covered with good grass. Today James is taken with fever, chills and headache, and was not able to drive or sit up, and Frank Dunning drove his team At camping time we came to the head of a ravine which we follow down to a spring and pitch tent. Betsey remains about the same, only growing weaker. I am better today. Came 20 miles.

August 24, Wednesday—We start on and travel 5 miles to the river. The Columbia runs in a very low bed. In descending to the river we go down five or six different banks or bluffs, each more than 100 feet high, At length we descend the last bank and go down into the bed of the river on a low bar where a trader has his establishment. We have but little to do with this class (or their skinning propensities). We proceed down this bar 5 miles more and arrive at the mouth of the river DeChutes. Here John P. concludes to leave his wagon and put his provision, clothing, family, etc., in the other wagons. So the ferryman agreed to pay the price of ferrying over a wagon for his wagon. So we had but one wagon to pay ferriage for which was $3.00, and we swim the mules. At the ferry we bought more salmon and a little meat. Betsey continues pretty much the same, only getting feebler. My diarrhoea still continues. I had a fever and headache nearly all this day. Came 10 miles. Cross and camp on the bank.

August 25, Thursday—At starting we ascend out of the valley of the DeChutes, up a long and in places steep hill, until we arrive at the general height of the country. The road very hilly until we arrive at the Columbia, which we approach from a gently sloping hill until we go down in the bed of the river and continue down on a kind of bar until we came to the Dalles. or Fort Dalles, which stands on a high bank and consists of a warehouse and several grocery and provision stores mostly in tent houses. But their prices are exorbitant, but not quite equal to the skinning fraternity who have planted themselves above here. Here we unharness and intend to camp, though early. James has a high fever today and is not able to sit up. Betsey remains about the same. My dysentery continues. There was a sailboat lying here that plies between Portland and this place, who offers to take our wagons and luggage, the women and children and all the sick for (amount blotted). So we conclude to get on board and start off in the night. John P., John W. and Frank take the mules and mares over the Cascade Mountains. Came 16 miles.

August 26, Friday—We did not proceed very far before the wind arose in the night and stopped our progress. In the morning we endeavor to proceed, but the head wind was too strong and would take the boat upstream in spite of the oars and continued to increase all day. So we had to lay by. While at the Dalles, James gets the advice of a physician and some medicine. Today they commence taking their medicine which works off well, but leaves them very weak. James begins to have a little appetite, but Betsey’s appetite revolts at all kinds of food and she has not eat enough to support nature for two weeks. My dysentery is fast wearing me out. I get no rest night or day. Every remedy that is available seems to fail and my strength is nearly exhausted.

August 27, Saturday—Head wind continues all last night and increases after sunrise, so it seems we must still remain here. A little after night the wind assuages so that the captain thinks he can make some headway. But we did not proceed more than a mile before we had to put ashore, or be driven upstream, so we landed on the opposite or south side the river, where we were sheltered by a point of rock from the wind and sand. Saw several seals today. They tell us they are numerous on the coast and they emigrate up the river many miles. But little alteration for better in the sick.

August 28, Sabbath—Head wind continues and here we remain. James is considerably better, but no visible alteration in Betsey. My pain is not so great only at times.

August 29, Monday—This morning the wind seemed to be lulled so that we started. The wind, what little there was, was unsteady. Sometimes a breeze favorable to sailing down would spring tip, but at length it all died away and the water became smooth as a mirror. We made what headway we could with the oars and go ashore at a point that jutted out into the river where there was a sandy shore to keep the boat sheltered from the wind, which was upstream, and the swells from beating the boat against the rocks. The seals are numerous.

August 30, Tuesday—Breakfast being over, we start. The headwind springs tip early. We go about 2 miles by hard rowing, but the wind increasing we soon lose headway and the boat becomes unmanageable and we have hard toiling to make the shore. The boat careened sidewise to the wind in spite of all our strength, the stern standing next the shore. Our only alternative was to heave astern with the oars. By hard toiling, however, we made the shore, but the shore was so lined with rock that we soon found that the swells against the boat would soon use up the boat against the rocks. We sent two men with each a cordell, one fastened to the stern the other to the bow, and thus let her drive, until we come to a small cove where there was some shelter. Here we came to the conclusion for a while to remain until the wind should turn or die away. In all this time I was so exhausted with the diarrhoea that I was scarcely able to support my own weight and was in almost constant pain, nothing but crapula mixed with blood having passed my bowels for more than two weeks. My complaint frequently calling me out of the boat. While ashore and while out the Captain Keith took a notion that the boat would not be safe there, as many rocks were lying beneath the surface and the wind getting stronger. So lousing the boat from its moorings and having sent the women and children, all that was able, to clamber over the rocks, they started with a cordell at each end, as before, to let the boat drive up to the sand bank point where we had camped last night. I saw the boat start. The women and children all passed me and boat and all were soon out of sight. I was not at all competent to perform such a journey, especially on such rough pavement The river here washes the base of a high mountain. Its summit being crowned by perpendicular rock for several hundred feet high. At the base of the perpendicular it slopes very steep down to the river. Here lies an accumulation of rock that have been falling front the summit for unknown ages. These rocks are of all sizes from that of a large hay rick to a hay cock. Thus they lie in confused and haphazard piles, which the reader can easily conceive would constitute a very rough thoroughfare at the best. Over this I made all the headway I could and principally on all fours, sometimes under, sometimes over, and sometimes between. I was obliged to stop and rest many times. On one occasion I fell asleep. being exhausted. but how long I cannot tell. My fears were that they had not missed me from the boat and in case the wind should fall would start on, and another fear was that the cordells would he forced from the hands of the boatmen, in the fury of the blast and the boat dashed against the rocks. But the kind providence of God was over us. Late in the p.m. I found the boat. All was safe. The boat was moored in a safe place. But they had missed me and James and one of the boatmen were on the search when I overtook the boat. James had been very sick and his exertions came near causing a relapse. All of us being out of provisions the Captain had gone down a few miles to an Indian village to get some salmon. He did not return till morning, but sent six salmon by some Indians who came in a canoe. These salmon would average 40 lbs. each. We were required to take off our wagon covers on account of their catching so much wind. These were the only shelter we had in case of rain, which was threatening. We were in a bad condition. About 10 p.m. at night the rain came on and everything we had, clothing, bedding, the sick and all were exposed to its ravages. James and Betsey lay in the boat, with a tent cloth spread over some oars, which afforded but little protection. All the rest lay on shore without any shelter but the trees, which as soon as they got wet, shed down a double portion upon us. We lay till the water began to collect in our beds and then we got up and bailed them out, and wet and shivering with cold had hard work to rekindle our fires which the rain had put out. Thus we spent the night, steaming, getting wet and drying off at the same time. We had a tent, but that had to shelter Betsey, who could not be got out of the boat. Our clothing and bedding all got a complete drenching. Day at length dawned, which we hailed with great joy. The west wind continuing, we staid over and employed our time in the best way we could to dry off, but being cloudy we made slow progress in drying.

August 31, Wednesday—As stated above, spent the day in trying to get dry. Betsey’s appetite seems to revive a little. She does not seem to be any worse on account of our exposure. I take a dose of laudanum on account of my pain, which gives some temporary relief. Yesterday Martha Wood leaves us and starts back to the Dalles, contrary to the advice of all.

September 1, Thursday—The wind having died away, we start on after breakfast, depending on the oars, lint hoping that a favorable wind would spring up. We at length had a little side wind and hoisted sail, but it soon veered and died away and we took down sail. The day is cloudy and threatens rain, but is very still. I am very unwell today and in much pain. I slept part of the day. Betsey has some favorable symptoms, her appetite rather increases and she is some more cheerful. Just at dark we arrive at the Cascades. Here are four or five families, perhaps. who follow trading and lumbering. It rained some in the night. The Cascades are 60 miles below the Dalles, and we have been on the way ever since Friday. 26th ult., in traveling it. James is very unwell today.

September 2. Friday—We dropped the boat down to the portage where the wagons receive the emigrants and unloaded. A sort of thoroughfare called a railroad and continues down the Cascades to a place where boats again receive them, which is about 2 miles.

This is about five feet wide and the car is drawn by a single mule. There is what is called a wagon road likewise, that continues down about 5 miles from this place, which is the length of the falls, to a steamboat landing. Small sailboats navigate higher up. The railroad terminates at the lauding of these. On account of Betsey we could not unload the wagon she rode in and we had two yoke of oxen to haul her wagon down this tremendous rough way, as far as where the railway terminates. We got a late start from the portage landing on account of rain, or laziness, or both, of the hands who were engaged to take us down. We got there just before dark. It was cloudy and threatened much rain and much of our clothing and other things were left at the place where the car was unloaded, and being so dark, and James and myself being sick and exhausted, we were not able to secure them and they took a second drenching. Amidst our exposure Betseys symptoms are more encouraging. My complaint continues about the same and nothing but opiates gives any relief. James continues feeble and has but little appetite. The river at the Cascades is compressed to a fourth of its usual breadth.

September 22, Saturday—Rained part of the day. It was late before all our luggage was brought to the landing place and for some reason or other the boat did not start today. But no doubt to me, it was laziness more than anything else that detained the boat, though the rain answered an excellent purpose for an excuse. However, James and myself were so outdone and exhausted that we much needed what little rest the accommodations of the place afforded and were not clamorous about our delay A Methodist preacher visited us, who has been laboring in Oregon ever since 1844. He advised with us about seeking claims, and gave us much useful information. He has an appointment at this place and at the Dalles. His visit refreshed us much. His name has slipped my memory. Betsey’s condition is about the same. I am just able to support my own weight, and James and myself both. if we were comfortably settled and at home, would be confined to the bed. Poor Sister Sarah Willson is the only one among us now that is well. But her burden is too heavy. She cannot support under it much longer. She has acted the part of a mother to us all, in exerting all her strength. She has a family of small and helpless children of her own, besides the burden of all the rest.

September 4, Sabbath—The captain or owner of the boat made preparations for starting and ordered the wagons to be taken to pieces, even their beds. We told him that the one Mrs. Willson occupied could not and should not be disturbed. as it would deprive her of any shelter and we had rather hire a team and haul our wagons down to the steamboat landing. He finally concluded to take her wagon bed whole. The boat was small and our lading bulky, but not very heavy. It was obliged to be piled rather high as we had on board four wagons, harness for 12 mules, yokes and chains for 12 oxen, besides all our clothing and other luggage, which rendered the boat rather top heavy, and it was judged best to take all our livestock on another small boat until we had descended the Cascades. The boats were steered and piloted by Indians, who perfectly know where the avenues between the rocks will best admit the passage of boats. We had a number of short turning places to pass. Sometimes we would pass close to huge rocks which flirted the water high As soon as we had descended the Cascades to the steamboat landing, went aboard the other boat and continued down until the head wind came too stiff against us. which drove us ashore about 2 p.m., where we lay until half an hour be sun when the sun lulled so that we started and went a few miles and camp. Betsey continues the saute only more delirious. James is very unwell and I get no better. but endure continual pain.

September 5, Monday—We start on and proceed but a few miles before we are met by our old opponent and are driven ashore and lay till late in the p.m. I am in greater pain today than common and very faint and almost helpless. James in his weak state of health tries to improve the time we were lying wind bound, in spreading out our wet clothing which had lain packed in sacks ever since the storm, but I was unable to assist him any. Near night the wind lulled and we all go aboard and start on. We camp on the north side the river. It was sonic time in the night when we land and so dark we could not select a very choice place to land and we found the shore steep and very muddy and much clogged up by flood wood and fallen trees. We fastened both stem and stern with cables as secure as possible and lay down to take some rest, without making a fire, or even going on shore, only the boatmen who had no room to sleep on board. The swell of the river hove the boat either on a log or on the bank and lay the land side much higher than the other, which made it uncomfortable.

September 6, Tuesday--We lay last night about 3 miles above the mouth of Big Sandy Creek on the opposite of the river, which was our stopping place. We landed this morning at our destined place and to our great joy found the rest of our company with the mules all safely over the Cascade Mountains. We remained here several days to rest and dry out and counsel where to lay our claims and after returning our acknowledgements to that Beneficent Being who alone can preserve through tile many dangers and difficulties through which we have passed, and having all got through this terrible wilderness alive, I bring my journal to a close in the Valley of Willamette.

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