THE JOURNAL OF MARIETT FOSTER CUMMINGS

[Tuesday] April 13th, 1852 Started for California amidst the tears and sighs of our friends which is indeed a comforting depression upon our spirits.1 We find the roads very bad. Went fourteen miles and stopped at a little place called Pavilion [Illinois], rather a romantic name for a few miserable huts. I stayed at a public house and ate fried pudding. This I expect is the beginning of trouble.

14th – Started early and passed through the pretty village of Newark. Found the roads about as bad. Stayed at a sick farmer’s where we were well accomodated about five miles from Ottawa. Went 23 miles.

15th – Got to Ottawa about one o’clock; stopped at a miserable hotel until noon when a Californian was robbed here. The night before his valise was cut open, $20 in cash and a quantity of specimens taken from it and was left on the bank of the creek. Came to La Salle and stayed at Hardy’s Hotel, where we saw Mrs. Cutting, an old acquaintance of sister’s.

16th – Commenced raining early but we started and found the roads bad and traveling in the rain unpleasant. Passed through Peru, two miles below LaSalle, and a much prettier place than the latter. Some beautiful residences in it. Went seven miles and stopped at a farmer’s where we stayed over night. Came off pleasant.

17th – Got up and put on a suit of short clothes [bloomers] to avoid the mud. Got out and walked and in passing one house the women came out and laughed at me or my dress, I did not ask which, but find it much more convenient for traveling than a long one.

After going fifteen miles we came to the pleasant village of Princeton, by far the prettiest inland town I remember having seen, in all the country, on high and rolling ground. I noticed a great many pleasant country seats. Princeton itself is situated on a commanding eminence and contained two churches and a fine courthouse and the dwellings were in fine state, some of them really beautiful. A few miles below Princeton crossed Beaver River, quite a pretty little stream running through a romantic little valley in which we found a village of a few houses called Indiantown.

The road out of the valley led up between two very high, steep hills, one of which I climbed with difficulty. Upon its summit I found seven graves, some of them enclosed by a little paling. The prospect from this hill was beautiful indeed. We passed on and stopped at a little town of nine or ten houses called Providence. Made 26 miles.

[April] 18th – This morning was very cold and foggy, almost as chilly as yesterday in the hailstorm. We did not start until eleven; made fifteen miles and stopped at a wealthy farmer’s, but his wife was unwell, so we were obliged to get our own suppers. Our first trial at camp life, or rather Hoosier life.2 It is Sunday, but circumstances compelled us to travel. However, I do not think we are quite so bad as some that stopped just before us that were playing ball for a Sunday pastime.

19th – Started very early, hungry, for we could not be tempted to make anything but a slight breakfast from the disgusting material set before us. After going ten miles through the rolling, well watered and timbered country, we came to the village of Lafayette.

The place was small and well enough, I presume, but I was prejudiced by what I saw before I came to it. The road was somewhat muddy and so it had been turned through the unfenced resting place of the dead. All along by the road were sunken graves covered with the footprints of animals that had roamed over them at will.

It looked so unfeeling, inhuman in the inhabitants, to live in plain sight of such things, that I could not even think the village pleasant. In a few more miles we came to another village called Victoria. How would England’s queen feel herself honored did she know she had such a wonderful namesake in the far west! I noticed two or three decent looking dwellings and a blacksmith’s shop. Made 28 miles and stopped at a country inn.

20th. – Went eleven miles and stopped with Pa’s old friend Ferris at Galesburg, a very pleasant town with an Academy of Knowledge located in it.3 I noticed five churches and many other fine buildings.

21st – Found the roads very slippery from the rain the previous day. Passed over the flattest prairie I ever saw, several miles in extent, and came to the pretty village of Monmouth, county seat of Warren County.4 I felt interested in it from a tragedy that occurred there two weeks since. A young lady residing in the family of Doctor Young had an anonymous letter not long since, purporting to be from a gentleman she had rejected, saying that four years ago he had knelt to her and she should kneel to him.

The young lady with true spirit warned herself for an emergency with a pistol which she kept near her bed. One night about two weeks since she was awaked from sleep by someone raising her window, which was in the second floor. She sprang and caught the pistol and snapped but it missed fire.

By this time the man was half inside the room with his hand on her bed and exclaimed: “Don’t shoot me, Matilda!” But nothing daunted she fired and wounded or killed him, she did not know which. Her bed and the floor bore traces of blood, but he had accomplices who took care to remove him so that no trace can be obtained of his whereabouts.

What his object could have been no one can divine unless it were, he had so many with him, to abduct her, to which proceeding she gave a tragic terminus. We stopped two and a half miles from Monmouth at a farmer’s.

[April] 22nd – Arose early and passed over two of the most beautiful prairies I ever saw, entirely destitute of inhabitants. On one of them we were for a long time out of sight of timber or dwellings. Came to La Harpe, a distance of thirty miles from Monmouth.

23rd – Left La Harpe early and came sixteen miles to the county seat of Hancock county. Carthage [Illinois] is quite a town, a fine courthouse of brick, I noticed. I believe this is where Jo Smith was killed.5 Came seventeen miles more to Warsaw on the banks of the Mississippi. But I am disappointed in the river. I expected it would be four miles wide but here at the junction of the Des Moines it is but three quarters wide. I have a great many reflections upon leaving Illinois, where I have spent the most of my life, for the first time since I came here sixteen years since.

24th – Crossed the Mississippi on a steam ferry this morning. The prospect was delightful. The eye took in at one broad sweep the magnificent river with its lofty wooded shores and its fine steamers ploughing up the smooth expanse of water. One has such feelings but once (in regard to anyone particular thing) in their lives, as I had in crossing the Father of Waters. The ferry is just below where the Des Moines empties in by three distinct mouths.

We landed in Alexandria [Missouri], a little town on the flats. I was surprised to see dwellings on those bottoms, which are some eight miles in extent, and in high water are inundated to the depth of five or six feet. The houses and outbuildings were constructed upon piles driven into the ground so as to raise them above the high-water mark, but which they did not all succeed in accomplishing. for the traces of water were distinctly visible upon their sides.

In one house where the door was set open I could see just how it had risen inside, which was about a foot. The fences and trees were similarly marked. I suppose that there is no land in the United States capable of producing such crops as these same flats. I should think from appearances that they were overflowed last year, for it had remained uncultivated through the past season. It is very dry now and I observed Negroes plowing.

I should think that none but Negroes could live as it must of necessity be very sickly and inundation. Father met in Warsaw one of his old California friends, Mr. Warner. I got considerably acquainted with him and liked him much. He is a gentleman. He returns in May with his family. We came thirteen miles and stopped at a farmer’s, very fine, hospitable people.

25th, Sunday – Stayed at the farmer’s. Rained quite hard.

26th – Started early and passed through the most desolate country I ever saw. Over one tract of 7880 acres owned by Daniel Webster, which I would scarcely take as a gracious gift, perfectly uninhabited. On it we saw six deer. Arthur started in hot haste after them. We kept on our way for two hours, but he did not come up and Vincent turned back in search. He was gone so long that William and Father went back and told Mother, Billie, and I to drive on. We did so and mistook our road and met Arthur. Was obliged to turn back and send Billie after our folks. I sent Ma and Arthur on and stayed at the forks of the road to prevent a mistake on their part.

I was making preparations to camp for the night when they came up. We drove until ten o’clock when we stopped at a log cabin. The old woman looked precisely like the picture of Mother Long in “The Banditti of the Prairies,”6 an old torn, short linsey dress, awful old shoes and an old factory cap with a ruffle three inches wide all around it composed her dress. I was so afraid I could not sleep.

[April] 27th – Passed through the most God forsaken country that ever layout doors, the fag-end of all creation. We did not see but two or three log huts in the whole day’s travel. Those looked more like hogpens than human habitations. The people have no visible means of support. We could not get even an egg of one of them. At the door of each hut might be seen two or three folks and seven or eight young ones, all dressed in butternut-colored cloth. This seems to be the universal color. William says that the people are all butternut color with a stripe across the shoulders and down the back like our off-mule.

Stopped at folks that lived in a log house with a fireplace as big as a common bedroom. Bacon is the food and butternut the color and linsey the dress. Plenty of wild turkeys here; saw one this morning.

28th – Went through nine miles of the same stumpy, boggy country and came to Kirksville, the county seat of Adair county. But one decent house, the first I have seen in Missouri, in the place, and I should very much doubt there being so many decent men as that. Twentyfive or thirty gathered around us. A great portion of them drank. Almost the best looking man I saw was a negro (quite a compliment to the rest of the Pokes).7

Went four and a half miles further and camped in a beautiful grove near a spring of the finest water I have even seen in the state. We pitched our tent and got out our stove for the first time. Found it worked admirably; fried ham and eggs, baked biscuits, made coffee and sat down on Mother Earth and ate with an extra appetite. Made thirteen miles.

29th – Ferried across the Chariton this morning in an old scow, one team at a time. Took us (with our people hunting mules) until noon. I attempted to fish but was so unfortunate as not to get a nibble. The Chariton is not above six or seven rods wide, but deep and muddy-looking like all the streams in this state that I have seen. Camped on the banks of Yellow Creek in an old camping ground. Good feed for the horses, and the creek was fine, soft water. Had a fine bath and caught some fish out of it. Made about fifteen miles.

30th – Started early. The country that I saw looked pretty. No houses, scarcely, and those of the most hovellike description. I slept most all day but I rather doubt having lost much in sightseeing, for there is the most sameness for so much variety I ever saw. There is a hill and vale and grove and flat all day long, each a perfect counterpart of the other. Made about 28 miles and camped in a little hollow; horses in a pasture.

There was a camp on the hill of some Ca’linas just starting. which we called upon this evening. They knew about as much as so many Arabs. They were eating their suppers. The women sat flat on the ground and turned their backs to us, peering occasionally from under their awful, old dirty bonnets at us as though they had never seen a civilized person before, which I presume was the case.

May 1st, 1852 – Did not start very early. Were hindered by the men, who traded a horse for a mule and bought a span there. There were two span in our company that had not been broken and they had a great time breaking mules. Came to a few houses called Stringtown, a very appropriate name. Broke a wagon and were obliged to stop two or three hours. We went into a little log hut, destitute of a window, the light they had being admitted through holes between the logs, and found a family living in it from Southern Illinois. Very homesick; thought they were even fools for coming out of the pale of civilization.

The woman said the country was settling very fast, mostly slave-holders from the south; that there was 75,180 acres of land entered at a little land office last fall. Came on and camped on the west side of New Creek. Made 18 miles.

2nd, Sunday – This morning had a severe thunderstorm which lasted until about 10 a. m. About noon eight or nine teams loaded with Pokes for California crossed New Creek close by our camp. I never saw such human beings as they were. We stayed in our camp all night and it rained almost as hard as it could pour down. We slept in our wagons and the rain fell with such force that it misted through constantly.

I did not venture my head out of bed but once or twice and then the vivid flashes of lightning drove me back quickly.

3rd, Monday – Went about seven miles over a very fine country. Crossed Honey and Big Muddy Creeks and came to Trenton [Missouri], the county seat of Grundy county, the only group of houses that might with the least propriety be called a village. We waited three or four hours to get some repairing done and took dinner at a public house, where I saw the first Negro babe that I had seen since childhood.

We see plenty of slaves. Every family has one or more at Trenton. We crossed on a long bridge Grand River, came on seven or eight miles and stopped at an old Illinoisan’s. Made about fifteen miles.

4th, Tuesday – Did not get a very early start. Went seven miles and forded Little Muddy Creek; the water came into the carriage box. Stopped about noon at Craven and bought some corn. Here is the very center of the old Mormon war. Two or three houses had been burned off this very place by them. Went about three miles to Cravensville and crossed the De Armee, a branch of Grand River, but much larger in its swollen state. The ferry boat was a very good one and was rowed across. We passed in sight of but did not see Adam’s grave, where Jo Smith says the father of all mankind, reposes.

The grave, we were afterwards told, is very curious. There are five trees, two at the head, one at each shoulder, and one at the foot, enclosing beneath the surface five strata of stone, precisely in the form of a coffin. Jo Smith in his day had a revelation that Adam was buried here.

8th – About noon came to St. Jo, but were obliged to go back two miles to camp which we did on a romantic little place on the slope of a hill. St. Jo is rather a pretty city of 4,000 inhabitants and is situated between high bluffs on the Missouri river. We were obliged to stay here until the 12th. We did not receive but one letter. That was from A. E. G. informing me of the marriage of my best friend, M. E. Goddard to C. F. Ballard of Georgetown, Madison county, New York. God bless her; may she be very happy.

12th – Went to St. Jo early, but was detained trading for mules until afternoon. Went seventeen miles and camped on the road to Savannah [Missouri].

13th – Passed through Savannah, a small town, but were advised to go to Old Fort Kearney [Kearny, on the Nebraska side of the Missouri, site of present Nebraska City] to cross. Passed through one of the worst mud-holes I ever saw in sight of the town. Went six miles and camped on a hill near a herd of cattle.

14th – Started early and crossed the Nodaway in a rope ferry. Camped by the lone tree.

[May] 15th – Camped on the banks of the Great Tara. Caught a silver fish.

16th – Traveled through a very romantic country, high bluffs that looked like a miniature range of mountains. Camped near a little stream in a little valley.

17th, Sunday – We did not intend traveling today, but it was rather unpleasant where we were, so about noon we broke up camp and passed through a valley that had undoubtedly once been the bed of the river. Crossed the Nishnetottemah [Nishnebotna] and about midnight stopped one mile from the ferry, but instead of finding a village as we supposed we should find at Fort Kearny, we only found a miserable log hut and pack house, occupied by the most swinish specimen I ever saw in the shape of a ferryman.

18th – Moved our camp a mile from our old camping ground and dug a hole to get some water fit to drink. Washed.

19th – Went down to the ferry to see Mrs. Thomas Burrell. Saw H. Kaufman.

20th – Went fishing and burned my face but did not have a single bite. Some of the party caught two fish of a new species but which we did not eat.

21st – Came down to the old ferry but was obliged to wait until evening before we could cross. In the meantime we found my old beau Lamb who had with his family started for California. We went two and a half miles and camped on a hill near the little stream of soft water, and our people commenced standing guard. Heard plenty of prairie wolves.

St. Joseph, May 22nd – Saturday – It was foggy and cold this morning but we started early in company with the people who camped with us. As we passed over miles of beautiful prairie entirely destitute of timber, and entirely out of sight of it, occasionally we would pass near a little stream with a slight border of cottonwoods. We crossed Weeping Water and Saline River. The last was slightly salt, but certainly the most beautiful stream I ever saw.

We forded easily and camped on the banks and went fishing. We set our hooks, lost two of them and caught one fish, a white or silver fish. We made about 25 miles.

Raining hard when I awoke. Harnessed the animals early but did not break up camp until eleven o’clock. For the first two miles we saw some timber but after that none, but without doubt through the most beautiful prairie country in the west, just rolling enough to be beautiful and good. Did not see a house or a fence in our whole day’s travel.

Camped about three miles from a half-dozen trees, and sent Billie on the pony after some wood. Our animals had a stampede and it took an hour to secure them, as their throwing Billie and pony and Byron all in a stack. It has rained hard all day. Three teams joined company at dusk. Made 18 miles.

23rd, Sunday – Started early and traveled all day over the same boundless prairie. Camped about 25 miles from Salt River.

24th, Monday – Pleasant; traveled on, on, on over the same kind of country, one flat prairie as smooth as a house floor. A mail stage passed us. Saw an abundance of prairie wolves. Just at night came down into the valley of the Platte river, one hundred miles from old Ft. Kearney. Camped on the bottoms. The wolves began to yell before night and were in sight from every direction.

25th, Tuesday – The road lay along the bottom, some distance from the Platte. About noon we overtook the Burrell and Kaufman company. Went down to the river just at the head of Grand Island, which is 80 miles in length. Kaufman’s company joined ours, six men, two wagons, and some pack animals. In the afternoon we saw some Indians, six in number, the first we had seen. They were mounted and one of them on a fine American horse, undoubtedly stolen.

They passed rapidly, but not before I saw the dress of one, which was a breech cloth, and over his naked shoulders was thrown a round piece of skin two feet across, ornamented with feathers, as were the horses’ tails. Made 25 miles.

26th, Wednesday – Before we started this morning we were visited by quantities of Indians that followed us all the forenoon and camped for their dinner near us. They cut willows and stuck then into the ground and spread their buffalo robes over them so as to form quite a primitive tent.

Their fires were kindled in a thrice and a single crotch stuck into the ground obliquely supported their kettles over it. We broke up our noon camp before them to avoid them if possible, but we had not gone out of sight of their encampment before we met five of their number returning driving a mule, and screaming in the most terrific manner and screaming to us to “Hold on.”

We caught sight of their pursuers who followed them almost into camp, rode around awhile and then slowly retreated to the hills. There were but 11.

The returning Pawnees created a great sensation in the camp. There was stripping and mounting in hot haste, and as they got ready they came singly and in groups, screaming in the most devilish, unearthly style imaginable. We were between the contending parties.

As the Pawnees came running their horses by us each one would point at the Sioux and at us, and motion us to stop and join them and whip their enemies. They were very angry that we did not, and we were apprehensive of an attack, but they were too cowardly.

A portion of the foremost scoured the hills for their enemies, while the rest as they came screaming and yelling, singing their war songs, running their old ponies, gathered in a group on a slight eminence on the east side. Directly they discovered the Sioux and squaws, 13, in the north, and them commenced a running fight.

We heard three guns and arrows in abundance. The Pawnees had not courage to join the fight, many of them, but the Sioux killed one of them, and then the Pawnees fled, 150 of them, before 13 Sioux and left their dead man on the field of battle. They came back stiller but full as fast as they went out.

In the meantime we had stopped and driven into a huddle, and the men had got their guns and ammunition ready for instant use. When the old chiefs returned they were perfectly beside themselves with rage and fear. One in his impetuous gesticulations struck at one of our company with his bow. He showed him his gun and the chief left suddenly. There were two guns among the Pawnees and my brother gave one of them some ammunition but he had not courage enough to use it.

The Sioux and squaws got two scalps, one on the battlefield and one in the hills. We thought there were none of them injured but an emigrant train that overtook us said that they met the Pawnees in full retreat driving before them on foot a Sioux that had been shot through the body and otherwise badly wounded. He was bound and weak with loss of blood but they drove him on with whips. A brave nation, truly! One hundred and fifty of them vanquished by 13.

We passed on and by an Indian village that was deserted near which was a square of perhaps twenty feet formed of ponies’ skulls with the large part cut out that presened quite a unique appearance. We camped on a little flat where the mosquitoes beat everything I ever dreamed of. However, despite them we took a bath in a slough nearby. Made over 20 miles.

27th, Thursday – Rose early amidst clouds of mosquitoes and passed over sand hills that came close to the river’s brink. The river presents a most beautiful prospect, varying from three quarters to a mile and perhaps more, in width, and thickly studded with emerald islands, the largest of which were thickly wooded. Passed an emigrant train of 10 or 12 ox wagons, bound for Oregon.

Camped at six o’clock on a flat. Fine feed, and one of the company dug a well that afforded excellent water which we were glad enough of after the intense head of today. After we had camped we were joined by 16 or 18 mule teams, which made our company appear quite formidable. Made about 25 miles.

[May] 28th, Friday – Started early, before most of the camp. Much cooler than yesterday, there being a strong west wind. Traveled most of the morning over sandhills that came to the river’s brink, but made our noon camp on a vast flat. Plenty of grass and Platte water. Passed forty or fifty wagons camped on a great prairie. Poor feed; dug a hole for water, but it was so strongly impregnated with sulphur that we could not use it. Made 28 miles.

29th, Saturday – After traveling for seven or eight miles struck the junction of the St. Jo and Ft. Kearny roads and a few miles farther on came in sight of Fort Charles, or new Fort Kearny. Camped for noon in sight of the fort; stopped for some time there. There are two or three fine buildings, one for the captains, another for the teacher and doctor, and one for the inferior officers. The soldiers’ barracks are turf, sod and all, most miserable looking holes.

Passed on eight miles and camped a short distance from the ferry.

30th, Sunday – Broke up camp late to ferry the Platte, which is one and a half miles. I never dreamed of anything like this river. It is impossible to see an eighth of an inch into it and the bottom is quicksand so that an animal can gain no sure footing and a wagon runs as though it were the roughest stones, one constant jar; and the moment it stops settles very deep.

It took us two hours to cross with one wagon, the box of which was raised a foot, and then we got into one hole where the water ran into the box. I drove the wheel mules and was very much frightened for fear of their drowning. I surely never was so glad to gain “terra firma” before. After we all crossed we went two miles and camped. Found a very heavy watchcase of silver in the road.

31st, Monday – Got an early start and went eight or nine miles and crossed Elm Creek; saw a cow left; saw the first buffalo chips and plenty of skeletons and horns. Passed on seven miles further and came to Buffalo creek which they were obliged to bridge with brush before crossing; a bad place. The feed poor; the prairie has been burned over, and a great want of rain, it must of necessity be poor.

Camped on the prairie; dug for water but without success. Used the river water; and buffalo chips for fuel and they make a very good fire when dry. Two men died in an ox train which we passed of cholera morbus. Passed 96 teams today, all ox but two. Made 28 miles.

June first, Tuesday – Broke up early, and after traveling seven miles came to Willow lake, a kind of mud puddle or series of them honored by that name. Passed one of them where a man was just taken sick of the cholera morbus, very sick, too. Saw quantities of prickly pear and for several days spots covered with saline and alkali deposits.

The flat on this side is quite extensive, the sand bluffs in some places out of sight. The heat today is almost unbearable and has been for some days from eleven to three in the afternoon. No rain for almost a fortnight and no dews of consequence, sometimes so slight as to be almost imperceptible.

Passed several graves, I should think twenty since entering the Indian territory. We passed this afternoon a colony of prairie dogs and saw plenty of them as they came out and barked at us. Their dens covered a good many acres. Made 28 miles and camped near the river.

June 2nd, Wednesday – Passed over a fine low portion of the flat; good grass. Saw three new made graves, one of them made yesterday, a man from Illinois and a lady from Peru, Illinois. Crossed some quicksand bluffs that came to the river’s bank. I walked over them and sank into the sand nearly over my shoes every step. Saw several little gray lizards, quicker than lightning. Met the Mormon trail from Salt Lake City. Very sickly.

(Neglect) – Awful sick with the earache and headache last night.

June 8 – Today passed Castle Ruins, a series of curious rocks resembling a ruined city, some of them looking like solid masonry. One could easily fancy they had been inhabited. Saw “Chimney Rock” a distance of forty miles. Came on four miles and camped near the river. Made thirty miles.

June 9th – Started early and passed a grave just finished, an old man from Illinois. Came to a high sand ridge white as snow. Passed Courthouse Rock, square in front, with a smaller one near by looking like a sentinel post. The upper part of Chimney Rock is becoming plainly visible. An antelope came almost into our noon camp. They shot at it but it went bounding off to the hills unharmed. Camped opposite Chimney Rock, said to be 700 feet above the level of the Platte.

It is rock or rather petrified clay in form like this. It did not look so high as it stood in front of a higher bluff. Made 28 miles.

10th – Passed Bluff Ruins, most beautiful, too. I made a rough draft then I was so charmed that I could not gaze enough. Made our noon halt opposite Scott’s Bluff, altogether the most symmetrical in form and the most stupendous in size of any we have yet seen. One of them is close in its resemblance to the dome of the Capitol at Washington.

There is a pass through that is guarded on one side by Sugar Loaf Rock, on the other by one that resembles a square house with an observatory. There is one (nearest the river) I will not attempt to describe, certainly the most magnificent thing I ever saw. Away up on the top is a green spot of earth and cedar trees are clinging to its rocky sides and covering its lofty crest.

Camped above Scott’s Bluffs near the river. Father took a shovel and dug up some pitch wood, probably deposited by water.

11th, Friday – Drove all day through a desolate looking country, some parts of it literally covered with prickly pears and alkaline deposits. Towards night struck the river, which was absolutely bordered with roses. Camped on some sandhills covered with oats in sight of the river. It has been exceedingly unpleasant today on account of high winds. It seemed as though the wagon would upset some of the time. Made 28 miles.

12th, Saturday – Took an early start and after traveling a few miles struck the river which was bordered with trees, the first we have seen on this side for over 200 miles. In a group of trees near the road was a trader’s tent pitched, and several skin wigwams near for the manufacture of moccasins. Saw an Indian village on the opposite side of the river.

Came opposite Fort Laramie about ten o’clock. There is a ferry across the north branch here. The north and south branches unite just below, in sight. There were several Indian lodges and a Frenchman, a trader, living in one of them with a squaw and lots of halfbreed children. There are two fine two-story buildings at the fort, one of them officer’s quarters and the other a trading post. We found dried fruits and hams and bacon as cheap as at St. Jo.

We stayed opposite the ferry nearly all day as Father was busy selecting a span of mules from a drove across the river. Went out half a mile and camped. Grass poor. A Sioux visited our camp this evening and he was a fine specimen of an Indian. The Sioux are a tall, athletic, symmetrical tribe. The squaws are quite pretty, some of them, and the babies really so. They seem too proud to beg as their brother redskins the Pawnees, do.

13th, Sunday – Started at five o’clock to find good grass and traveled over a hilly country for ten miles and camped until twelve o’clock. Saw a new flower, the Lily of the Black Hills. Then we passed over the most precipitous hills and the most beautiful gorges I ever dreamed of. The hills were almost mountains and the sides covered with cedar and pine trees in the most fantastical shape imaginable, giving them from a distance a black appearance. Hence the name Black Hills. Just before night we struck the river and camped in a very pleasant spot. Made 28 miles.

14th, Monday – Traveled on, on, through the same gorges and over the same hills until noon when the country became less broken, and the trees less frequent. Have passed but one or two little brooks today. Made thirty miles and camped near some stagnant water. Have not seen the river since we left it this morning. Rained this afternoon; cold, very.

[June] 15th, Tuesday – Did not start early; cold and unpleasant. Went down some steep hills and in about three miles came to a trader’s tent with Indian wigwams around it. Did not succeed in getting any moccasins. The country is assuming a curious aspect, high hills of bare rock, some of them closely resembling an ancient citadel and again others conical with a cap of rock of square form. Passed through a gorge a hundred feet deep with pyramids in the bottom and walls of rock around it. The bottom is of white clay rock. A wild and strange place, one that gave a person curious emotions.

Greasewood and sage have been abundant for a few days. About noon came to the river, which looked refreshing after the clouds of dust we have passed through. Made a noon halt late near the river. Found a curious arrow, the blade sharp at the point, and the part joining the wood notched so that it could not be drawn out. Saw two species of cactus in bloom and a new flower a little resembling the pink, but without its fragrance. A man is sick with the cholera within a few rods of us.

Passed on over desert sandhills until about seven o’clock and after going down a perpendicular, rocky hill came into a valley and camped. Grass not very good. Near the river for more than 80 rods were crotches and poles stuck into the ground thick where there had been Indian lodges. Probably winter quarters from the quantities of old moccasins and buffalo skin strewed over the ground.

16th, Wednesday – Traveled nearly all the morning to get a few miles on our direct course for we went over several (to me) high mountains and crooked around to avoid deep ravines. Made our noon halt on a miserable place but did not travel more than two miles in the afternoon when in getting to the river for water we came directly into a beautiful little valley of good feed, where we immediately camped for the remainder of the day, which I improved by having a thorough wash.

17th, Thursday – Before we left camp this morning Mr. Sawyer’s8 wagon drove into the valley. The road today has lain over deep sandhills and we made our noon camp on one of the highest, from which we had a glimpse of a buffalo hunt.

The buffalo was coming down to the river very leisurely when some men encamped near saw him and gave chase. He ran down across a little plain, swam a deep creek and plunged for the shore and effected a landing amids a perfect shower of bullets, several of which took effect, one of them fracturing a foreleg.

He ran up the road for nearly half a mile, but there were a hundred men after him and he turned and ran for the river and jumped twenty feet off a bluff into the water swam down a mile and landed on a little island, when he was so disabled that a man went over and dispatched him with a pistol.

Came on over heavy hills until five and camped in a miserable place almost overgrown with cactus. Made 15 miles. Arthur killed our first rabbit tonight.

18th, Friday – Started a little after four o’clock this morning in order to pass a large oxtrain before it got in motion, which we effected. The roads were mostly sand. Passed over the worst hills we have seen; came at noon to the south ferry and went up on the side of the worst sandhill for 200 miles to come and made a noon camp.

Grass good; wild oats. Got a piece of antelope of a man and saw my first buffalo steak. The trains went over the mountain but I went across it on the brink of the river which was at times nearly 100 feet almost directly down beneath. I did not dare look at the water for fear of falling. It was nearly a mile across and intensely warm. I was tired and heated but I bathed my face and hands in the river nearby a beautiful cottonwood grove and went on over a bottom covered with alkali to the road which I reached before the trains.

After going four miles we came to the upper ferry and left the river and traveled over the hardest road over hills and through barren vales, for ten miles to Sulphur Springs. The water is considered poison and it may be in some of them but we drank some and gave it to the animals without injury. Made I suppose 35 miles; did not arrive at our camp until after dark.

19th, Saturday – Started early to cross a desert of from 17 to 18 miles in extent. It was hot and no water. We passed large droves of cattle and sheep that seemed to suffer much. Our animals had water in the morning, which I presume they did not, for they went the river road which was farther, and no water after the first eight miles.

A little after noon we came to Willow Springs, but the willows from which they derived their name are cut down for fuel. They are in a gorge of the mountains and afford delicious cool water which was exceedingly refreshing to the thirsty traveler. Upon leaving the Springs we ascended Prospect Hill, a long and tedious one, too, passed on eight miles, and camped on a hill by the side of the road about one half mile from a little brook in a ravine. Poor grass. Made 26 miles.

[June] 20th, Sunday – Were obliged to drive until we found grass, which we did by taking a by-road that led down into a flat of some extent and excellent grass that had been uncropped. A rapid little stream four or five feet wide ran through it. We immediately decided to spend the day there and a day of rest was not at all unwelcome to man or beast. Toward evening the boys went out and killed a fine antelope.

21, Monday – Passed through valleys and by alkali lakes where the dust looked like, and produced the same pungent sensation in the nostrils that ashes would do. There were several lakes near the road and one of them was for the distance of six or seven yards encrusted with saleratus in a crystalized form. I noticed a little stick near the center around which a little island of saleratus had formed.

A few miles on we struck the Sweetwater and a little farther on Independence Rock of which we have heard so much. It is an immense pile of rock resembling granite entirely isolated in position and of stupendous proportions. The side near the road is perfectly covered with names. Some have evinced a good deal of ambition in inscribing them on almost inaccessible points.

Six miles farther on we pass Devil’s Gate, where the Sweetwater has cut a channel through the mountains of rock. It is 500 feet deep. The rocks are smooth and perpendicular. Certainly this is the greatest curiosity I have ever seen. We went up a little mountain stream for noon camp, caught a trout and had a most delicious bath. Passed on several miles and camped near the river in sight of another and smaller gate that the river passes through. Made 28 miles.

22nd, Tuesday – Did not go the old route but took the river road past magnificent mountains of rock of the most complicated forms and very high, with an occasional cedar tree on their bare and rugged sides. Eight miles, and we struck the old road as it comes down to the river. Here we saw a man that had been left by some company taking his duds up to the rocks. I rode on horseback all the morning, met a Bear River Indian and traded ponies, with William’s fireman’s dress coat to boot, which the Indian put on over an old blanket, his bare legs protruding beneath.

Passed Bitter Cottonwood Creek, on the banks of which they were burying a woman. The little children were sitting in the wagon, and the husband at the head of the grave, weeping bitterly over the uncoffined burial. Just after noon we came to a ford of the Sweetwater where we encountered a severe hail and rainstorm. We did not ford but kept up the river over a heavy sand road near Rocky Mountains for several miles. The dead cattle are growing numerous over these dry deserts. Went 12 or 13 miles and came to the river where we camped. Poor feed; made thirty miles.

24th, Thursday – Drove for several miles down the Valley to a point where it looked as though the road terminated, but the road made an abrupt turn up through a deep ravine and up a high mountain. Found a French trader’s post in one of the ravines, and quite a grocery store, an old squaw and some halfbreed children.

We have gone up rapidly today and it is cold enough to make one’s fingers ache. Very showery, and not so fickle as the yesterday, for one moment I would be burned by the sun and the next frozen. Saw snow at a distance on a mountain and some near the road. Have seen snow at the distance for several days. Passed two cold springs, cold enough to make one’s teeth ache. Went up a little ravine by a mountain stream for noon halt, – Strawberry Creek, wrongly named; no strawberries there.

Passed over high hills in the afternoon with strata of rock standing out edgeways. Looked like a porcupine’s back. Crossed Willow Creek; 12 miles farther on Aspen Creek, its banks covered wih snow. A blacksmith shop on the creek. Crossed and went down a mile to Aspen Grove, behind which was a bank of snow 30 feet deep. Very cold; could not keep warm with double shawl and mittens. Twenty-eight miles.

25th, Friday – Went eight miles and crossed the Sweetwater. In a ravine close by the road I walked over a snowbank several feet deep and supplied myself with a snowball. Made our noon halt on the hill and the men prospected for gold in the ravines without success, though they thought there was gold there if they had time to look for it. No water near the road for many miles but we procured some by going a mile off it, striking a bend of the Sweetwater. This is the last sream we shall see this side of the Rocky Mountains.

Table Rock, the dividing point, has been in sight since yesterday. Went from the watering place four miles over the summit and camped on the slope of a hill. Good feed. We are on the western slope. Twentynine miles.

26th, Saturday – Four miles to Pacific Springs, the little stream which we followed for several miles. Then struck off and for over 20 miles no water. Struck Little Sandy River, crossed and went down two miles and camped. Made 29 miles.

[June] 27th, Sunday – Went eight miles and struck Big Sandy; crossed and went 15 miles and struck the same river; I think, and camped without crossing. Took Salt Lake City road.

28th, Monday – Started before sunrise in order to get to the ferry of Green River, which we did by eight o’clock. Green River is a deep, swift stream 200 feet wide. A rope ferry, and the moderate charge of $3 per wagon, 25 cents per head of horses. Went down the river five miles and then left and struck off fifteen miles without water over a rolling prairie. First rate roads. Struck Ham’s Fork and camped among clouds of mosquitoes. Made 30 miles.

29, Tuesday – Went four miles and crossed Silver Creek, a beautiful little stream. Went on several miles and struck Black’s Fork and crossed on the old Mormon road. Went on and struck the river and camped. Passed the most magnificent curiosity I have ever seen on the road. It was a stupendous rock of petrified clay and sandstone of blue and light and dark brown color. There were spires and domes, grottoes and caves of every form and size. It was immensely high and colonnaded. One’s voice would reverbrate several times.

We called it “Echo Rock.” Made a small drive. Mosquitoes awful thick. I went out before night to one of those curious rocks. I found them composed of clay and gray sandstone. Found pretty stones.

30, Wednesday – Went a mile and forded the stream, a few miles and crossed back. Raised wagon beds. Went on several miles and camped in sight of Fort Bridger, and made a noon halt in a perfect garden in Bridger’s beautiful bottom land. Black’s Fork divides into four or five branches on this bottom. Found strawberries, the first we have seen, and roses and shrubbery. After dinner crossed another branch to the fort, which is nothing but a trading post.

Major Bridger9 is a man considerably advanced in years. Has had several squaws of the different tribes for wives. Is now living with a Root Digger which he brought from California. Has in all six halfbreed children by three different wives. He lives in the fort in one room in the most Indian-like manner, but is immensely rich. Has a Mexican grant of ten miles square around the fort, stock in abundance, and gold without end, and yet is much of a gentleman but lives like a hog. Camped near the fort on the other side of another fork. One hundred thirteen miles to the city.

July first, 1852, Thursday – Started early and crossed the last fork of Black’s Fork, a very rapid, narrow, deep stream. Raised the wagon beds and then got wet by one of the wagons becoming unblocked and broken. Came to the hills, the sides of which were covered with cedars. Are ascending rapidly today, but passed down the steepest hill we have ever seen, stony and bad, into the Valley of Jehosophat. Rather fine.

Near the middle crossed Muddy Fork and through several valleys and then climbed the Utah Mountains, the highest that the road passes over. The descent was very difficult and to make it worse the mules ran halfway down. On the slope was a very fine spring. We passed on over mountains and through vales for several miles to Spring Brook, which we went down a mile. We camped in a little valley where we found the rest of our company. Made 32 miles. The watch tonight saw four Indians near the camp.

2nd, Friday – Went about a mile and crossed Bear River in several channels. One mule got badly hurt. Climbed some bad hills and went down some bad ones until we struck Echo Creek in Echo Canyon, a beautiful, fertile valley, varying from 300 yards to just wide enough for the little stream and road, which kept constantly crossing.

The mountains on the south side were a mile high, with cedars and cottonwoods ornamenting their sides. On the north the most stupendous cliffs of red rock, of gravel cemented together and sandstone, some of them of indescribable beauty and magnificence.

At noon we camped opposite the entrance to a cave high up in the rocks, which we explored. The entrance was an arch, the cavern 30 by 25 feet and high enough for a person to stand erect in. The rock in which it is is of very soft gray sandstone. Striking anything forcibly on the floor, it sounded hollow underneath, and in fact in the corner was an opening but not large enough to admit of entrance. It led down undoubtedly into another underneath. The rocks at the side towered hundreds of feet above. The sides were full of holes and looked almost like honeycomb.

Three Utahs came down out of the hills to beg, which they understood well enough. They were only half clothed. They talked English intelligently and begged for pistols, breeches, biscuits (big ones), powder, shot, caps, jackets, tobacco, cups, et cetera. One of them had got the legs off two pairs of pants and with the waistbands hanging down and what had been a woman’s white nightdress, but no one would have thought so from the color.

In the afternoon we passed whole families, men, squaws and pappooses, some of them more than half naked and catching crickets, all begging. Passed down several miles and camped where the mountains and rocks were a mile high, and where it was twilight in the valley when the sun shone on the mountain peaks. Splendid feed, never better, and quantities of wild gooseberries without thorns. Made 25 miles.

3rd, Saturday – Went fifteen miles through this canyon, the wildest and most magnificent scenery, surpassing anything I ever dreamed of, constantly crossing and recrossing the stream, in some places the rocks hanging over our heads in every form, and the valley constantly narrowing until finally we came to Weber river. It runs directly across the foot of the canyon. Went down it a mile and made a noon halt and went fishing. Caught one speckled trout. Went one mile farther down and forded; good crossing. One mile farther down camped. Made 18 miles. Caught some more fish.

[July] 4th, Sunday – The anniversary of America’s Independence. Tomorrow it will be celebrated at home with great ceremony while we are away out in the wilds of Deseret,10 toiling on, on. Left the river and struck up a canyon with a little stream which we have kept constantly crossing. A great many springs coming out of the mountainside but bad water.

Ran this canyon out and struck another with a fine stream of water, the valley so narrow that we cross the stream once in two rods, some of the times, the bottoms some of the way a perfect chapparel, some very steep, stony hills. In the afternoon climbed a long, stony mountain six or seven miles to the top and the canyon in some places so narrow that it would hardly admit the passage of a wagon.

Saw several mules tired out on reaching the top. We saw through a gorge in the mountains the Valley of Great Salt Lake spread out before us. The descent of this mountain was very difficult, almost perpendicular in places and four or five miles before we reached the bottom the road ran in a gorge and the mountains towered high above on either side, covered with small, dead cottonwoods that looked on the top and sides like a network of hoar frost.

Did not arrive at the foot of the mountain until dark and camped near a temporary blacksmith’s, barber and baker shop that some enterprising Mormons had erected. Made 30 miles.

July 5th – This morning we were awakened by the firing of cannon in the city, which is 12 miles distant. Did not get started for the city until 10 a. m., and had an exceedingly bad mountain to climb and descend. Then the road led through a very narrow canyon in one place resembling a gate, for the rocks jutted into the stream high on each side and we were obliged to pass down the bed of the creek, which was just high enough to admit the passage of the wagon.

The city, when we first came in sight of it, presented the appearance of a herd of white castles. We drove to the last ward, next the church farm, to the house of an old acquaintance, and stopped. In the afternoon we drove up to the Tabernacle to the latter part of the celebration, which consisted of a ranting Mormon oration, music by a superb brass band, and a comic song, “The Potato War” by a gentleman, and a very long benediction.

The Tabernacle is the most superb building of the kind I ever saw. It is built of adobe, 160 by 60 feet in length, one story in height and arched, with Gothic windows in the ends. The altar is in the middle of one side and is an elegant affair. The seats at the end and side are elevated from the altar to the doors one above the other, so that a person has a perfect view from any part of the house.

There are no posts or columns to obstruct the sight. On the front of the building is an elegantly carved cornice and a gilded design of the rising sun. They are at present laying the foundation of a wall that will enclose 10 acres, including the Tabernacle, inside of which they intend erecting a more costly and superb temple than they have ever before attempted. The city is laid out in good taste, the streets all running at right angles, and around each square they have made the water to run for the purpose of irrigation.

The city is four miles square and contains (I should think) 5000 inhabitants. I saw Brigham Young, the governor of Utah Territory, and several of his brothers. He is 51 years of age but does not look more than 30. He has 30 or 40 wives and 12 children under one year of age. His family numbers over 100. His harem, where most of his wives live, is a poor, miserable log adobe affair, directly in front of his elegant, Gothicwindowed barn!

His house is rather pretty. Next year he intends building a large establishment for the Mrs. Youngs, some of which are living at their fathers’ yet. It is not at all uncommon for a man to marry three or four sisters and their mother. One lady that brother was some acquainted with and her mother married an old man that had already two or three wives.

They marry and unmarry at pleasure several times a year if they choose. The state of society corresponds well with the Age of Barbarism in the east. The crops are fine, particularly the wheat, which they are harvesting.

July 6th – Today we had the severest hailstorm I ever saw. The hail was of the size of a walnut, and so thick that a person could not see three rods. It damaged the crops very much, threshing the ripe wheat and breaking down the corn. The Salt Lake Basin is covered by mountains whose peaks are covered with eternal snows.

July 7th – Rested and went up town. Gave $2.50 for a pair of bootees.

July 8th – Did not get out of the city much before noon. At the outskirts of the city passed the tepid sulphur spring, and bath house. The scent was very disagreeable to me. A short distance above the bath is a spring. The water was very clear but deposited a bright green substance, and was almost too warm to’ bear the hand in. A few miles farther on we passed Copperas Spring, almost boiling temperature, steam constantly floating over its surface.

The smell was particularly disagreeable to me. Near it they had made an opening in the mountain where they procured their copperas. Came on 10’ miles from the city and camped.

July 9th, Friday – The finest farming country we have seen, pretty thickly settled all along, and every little distance mountain streams running across the road, of the purest soft water. We are in plain sight of Great Salt Lake and two mountain islands. They are sixty miles north. I saw some of the salt, which is of the purest, whitest quality. The lake is said to’ be 300 miles in length and to contain lakes of the freshest water. There are several large rivers emptying into it and no outlet whatever. We passed on several miles and camped near the mountains on a little stream of cold, snow water.

10th – Started for the Weber River in the carriage, fishing. Fished all day faithfully and caught 17 fine speckled trout. But as we were doing up our fishing tackle preparatory to a start home they floated off into deep water and sank past recovery and we went home crestfallen indeed – fishless.

[Sunday] 11th – Moved our camp to within two miles of Weber and went fishing again with better success. Caught fifteen large trout and gathered a fine lot of ripe service berries.

12th – Started early; went two miles down the river and forded; passed over a mountain and in five miles came to Ogden river which we forded, and passed on to Ogden City, a few old log houses and a blacksmith’s shop where we stopped to get some repairing done.

13th, Tuesday – Did not leave until afternoon. Got some wheat of an old farmer Mormon. Drove to Willow Springs fifteen miles and camped on a side hill after dark.

14th, Wednesday – Are getting out of log houses and Mormons fast. Passed the last house this afternoon. Our course since leaving Salt Lake City has been north along the rim of the basin. Towards night came to a ravine full of springs. Some of them were cold water, tolerable good, warm springs, and boiling salt springs around which the ground was encrusted with crystallized salt. A short distance away was a lake of alternate cold and hot water. I went down to it but the mosquitoes drove me quickly away. Camped within three miles of Bear River. Excessively hot.

15th, Thursday – Ferried the river on a boat made of two skiffs lashed together, at the small price of $3.50 per wagon, the river not more than four rods wide and still. Three miles from the river crossed Miladd [Malad], a miry stream but a poor apology for a bridge across it. Went eleven miles farther and camped near a spring of brackish water about noon. Very warm.

16th, Friday – Rained all night and showery all day. Drove thirteen miles over hill and dale and came to Blue Spring. Poor water. Fourteen miles farther to a spring of tolerable water, and camped. The longest 27 miles I ever traveled. How often have I thought of my dear friend Mary E. Ballard. She has been married three months today. How earnestly do I pray that she may be happy and that she may never know sorrow or care. How I would like to see her and hers.

17th, Saturday, – Started early and in six miles came to a very pretty stream in quite an extensive valley that looked very fine, but in traveling over it we found it covered with sagebrush. Met a large company of California packers who have been one month on the road. Went 6 miles farther and stopped at a kind of marsh. Ten miles farther in a large valley came to Pilot Springs, small but affording the thirsty wayfarer good water. Six miles farther struck the mountain and ascended the first bench and camped near a large oxtrain composed of the most verdant of Missourians.

18th July, Sunday – It is the holy Sabbath time but rest is denied the worn traveler. This is like all other days on this road and the weary pilgrim to the shrine of gold plods on his tiresome way. Started early, went six miles, crossed Stony Creek, a fine stream of snow water. Saw an Indian close by, tolerably dressed, begging, as usual. Long, low ranges of mountains in sight, covered with perpetual snows. Passed over the head of a valley of some extent and came to Trout Creek. Passed up it four or five miles and camped. Made 28 miles.

19th, Monday – Made an early start and went four miles and crossed Raft River, a little brook, nothing more. The other road is in sight. Went up the stream some distance and up through a canyon opposite Steeple Rocks, magnificent, conical rocks as white as marble, glossy and bright, several hundred feet in height.

They are three in number. In the canyon below we saw a group of similar ones.

A mile from here we came to the junction of the two roads, down a long hill and through a valley of some extent. We came to a small spring of water. A short distance farther on made a short noon halt. In the afternoon passed over a series of the steepest hills I ever went over, one nearly perpendicular. Late in the afternoon struck Goose Creek. Passed up it two miles and camped. Made over thirty miles.

20th, Tuesday – Very cold this morning, uncomfortably so. Drove hard; did not stop for noon. Passed up through a long, narrow canyon crossing the creek. Here saw four Root Diggers and found quantities of ripe yellow currants, very fine flavored. Some magnificent rocks lay by or above the road, the fronts of which were covered with lichen of a bright yellow and brown. Camped a little after noon opposite Rock Spring, where the road leaves Goose Creek. Made 24 miles.

21st, Wednesday – Started just as the sun gilded the mountain peaks. Cold so early. I was barely able to hold up my head it pained me so, and a high fever. Drove over a very stony mountain 13 miles and found a spring but neglected taking in water. Found no more drinkable water for 20 miles, the roads very dusty and the day very hot. Two mules failed, and even obliged to take them out of the team. Found some poor water, gave the animals some, drove on into Thousand Springs Valley and camped near water and good feed. Thirty-four miles.

22nd, Thursday – Laid by today to recruit our animals. The valley is full of springs of great depth and very near together. There is a marsh that seems to me to be made soil over a large lake. It is springy and more or less covered by water and all over it are these holes, some of which are filled with fish of a variety I am unacquainted with.

23rd, Friday – Passed oxteams incessantly through dust so thick that we could not see the wagon before us and much of the time not our own leaders.11 Our road has been mostly over a plain, excellent roads but very warm. Made 28 miles, camped near a patch of splendid clover off the road.

24th, Saturday – In a camp near us a little child was buried this morning. Over hill and dale and down into a saleratus valley where there was a spring of indifferent water. The ground, wherever there was water, was like the strongest lye. At noon struck the head branch of Humboldt river, passed down it for eight or ten miles and camped in a splendid place; clover and fine grass. Made 25 miles.

[July] 25th, Sunday – In camp today with a large mule train. Very warm. Got out my instrument and had some fine music.12

26th, Monday – On down the stream [Humboldt]. After noon crossed the Lantine [Lahontan?] fork.13

27th – Overtook Coburn and family and heard from Dr. Spencer’s family. Our road today led over high mountains for 24 miles; no water but two or three muddy springs, little which did not afford any water for the stock. The road was very, very dusty in places, cut down so that the side of the road would be even with the top of the wagon wheels. Animals and people suffered much today.

[July] 28th, 29th, 30th, 31st, and until the sixth of August we were traveling on, on down the Humboldt, which every day became more muddy and unwholesome. No feed of consequence and for seventy miles before reaching the meadows one constant desert without feed or water, 23, 22, 14 miles. Mostly deep sand. The meadows are godsends to the weary, way worn traveler and animals. They cover thousands of acres; tolerable grass very plenty. The river spreads out over a great extent. The day we arrived at the meadows I was attacked with the mountain fever, a violent pain in my limbs, back and head with a high fever.

[August] 7th, Saturday – Cut grass, cooked, and so forth, preparatory to crossing the desert and in the afternoon drove twenty miles without water to the sink. The river here is a large lake dotted with islands and as we were on the dividing ridge between the lake and the old sink, the last rays of the setting sun were gilding the crests of the surrounding mountains, imparting to the scenery a magnificience which I, as sick as I was, could not but admire.

It seemed to me I must die, and that same evening William was attacked with the same disease. We were a sick pair in that close wagon, burned up with fever, racked with pain. How often one thinks of home and its comforts!

8th, Sunday – Laid at the sink, sick and weak, until noon, then started into the desert. About twelve at night came to Boiling Springs, halfway. Their roar is to be heard at a great distance. The ground for a large space sounds perfectly hollow and is perforated with holes, away down in which we could hear the water boiling. The largest must be many feet in circumference.

The column of steam was larger than from a steamer and the water splashed away out. It had a strong sulphur smell. We could not see it to any advantage in the night, and William and I were so sick as to be hardly able to hold up our heads. I have no language to describe our sufferings through that long, tedious night. They fed the animals some feed and between seven and eight o’clock in the morning we struck Truckee river, beautiful, clear water and quite a large stream, a perfect godsend after the destitution and miserably unhealthy water we have had for hundreds of miles, back.

Went down the river half a mile, and at a ranch Pa found some of his California friends, real fine fellows who treated us to everything in their power and took our animals to a good pasture with theirs, good clover feed.

There are great numbers of Indians about here. They call themselves Piutes. Their country extends from Pyramid Lake to the Sink of Truckee. They are very friendly and more intelligent than the Root Diggers. They procured for me great numbers of little fish resembling a sardine which they caught with ingenious little hooks made of a little stick one fourth of an inch in length to which was fastened nearly at right angle a little thorn.

These they baited with the outside of an insect. The line was simply a linen thread with six of these little hooks attached. They gathered also quantities of bear berries, a small red fruit growing on quite large bushes, said to be very wholesome.

We stayed at this trading post the 9th and 10th. During both days I was very unwell, as well as my husband, but we were still and would not complain. This incessant traveling kills sick people.

[August] 11th, Wednesday – We deemed our animals sufficiently recruited to recommence the long journey, so with many regrets we bade adieu to “Old Ned” and started on.

The roads we found exceedingly rough and in many places over high mountains, some of the most picturesque scenery we have yet seen. Once we found ourselves on a high, rocky mountain, while hundreds of feet above us towered great masses of rock and on our left was a gorge of thousand feet in depth. At its foot was the beautiful river with its softly-waving border of willows and lofty cottonwoods and behind it as far as the eye could reach mountain rising above mountain.

In places our road led so near the river’s bank that there was danger of upsetting into it. We made fifteen miles and camped near the river. Plenty of clover.

12th, Thursday – Our road today has been less rough than yesterday, though we passed down some steep hills and on the side of mountains where I was in constant fear of upsetting. Crossed the river, a very good ford, about noon. Came to the meadows, and also to a marsh which took us nearly all afternoon hard driving to get around and at night we were just about as far ahead as at noon. Camped near the river. Drove near 30 but made fifteen miles.

13th, Friday – We have been four long months today on this journey. I am sick and oh how weak! I am constantly losing instead of gaining. This constant traveling hurts me. Crossed the river and struck into the hills. Over some rough ones sixteen miles. Struck Peavine Springs on the side of a mountain commanding a splendid prospect to the north. Here was an extensive valley containing a large alkali lake and the blue outlines of the mountains in the dim background gave it an interesting appearance.

Near one of the springs was a man from Indiana exhumed by the Indians for his blankets. He died the 7th, but was in too putrid a state to be reburied. The willow withes were round his ankles where they had drawn him out of his grave. The feed here is fine, water excellent. We made a long noon halt and commenced climbing hills again.

A few miles farther on we came to another valley and lake. The road led where the lake had recently been but the water receded and left the ground hard, smooth and white and it had the resemblance to ice when the sun shone upon it.

Two miles on we struck Springbrook, passed on a mile and encamped. Made 24 miles.

14th, Saturday – I am yet sick. Sometimes think I shall not live long. It is hard to die so young and William, my William, who will console him? Passed up the creek nine miles and crossed and two miles brought us to the summit of the Sierra Nevada mountains. I walked a few rods and feebly did my feet press California soil for the first time. The goal of my ambition, and I said to myself: “Will my bones rest here in this strange land?” Six miles across a beautiful valley came to one of the head branches of the Feather River near a ranch, and camped for the rest of the day.

[Eleven years later]

Columbia, January 1st, 1863 – Mary is with us and I am learning to love the gentle hearted girl as if she was my own. My home seems more cheerful with her young face and pleasant ways.

January 1st, 1864 – Ah, last year was a sad one, indeed! Death has taken Mary, gentle, loving, truehearted Mary. I have watched her sweet life to its close. The waxen lids have forever shut out all the beautiful works of His hand and the faces of those she loved so tenderly.

The future seems so desolate, so unsunned by one ray of comfort or hope. Was I sick, her tender sympathy alleviated half the pain. Unselfish to the last degree her life, though numbering less than sixteen years, was filled with all the graces of mature, perfect womanhood.

Words can not tell how I loved her and how I miss her everywhere.

 

1 They started their journey at Plainfield, Will County, Illinois.

2 In this cue the reference is not to a native of Indiana, but to a kind of easy going tramp, or outdoorsman. The best discussion of “hoosier” is in Indiana: A Guide to the Hoosier State (New York, 1945), PP. 3-5.

3 Galesburg is the locale of Knox College.

4 It was persons from Monmouth, Illinois, who founded Monmouth, Oregon, and the Disciples of Christ college, “Monmouth University,” later to become a state school, Oregon College of Education, now Western Oregon State College. Ellis A. Stebbins, The OCE Story (Monmouth, Oregon, 1973), especially PP. 1-6.

5 A balanced treatment of the violent death of Joseph and Hyrum Smith is to be found in Leonard J. Arrington and Davis Bitton, The Mormon Experience (New York, 1979), PP. 77-82.

6 Edward Bonney’s The Banditti of the Prairies or, The Murderer’s Doom!! A Tale of the Mississippi Valley, was first published in Chicago in 1849. There is a modern version of it reprinted by the University of Oklahoma Press, Norman in 1963. The picture of Mother Long is on page 119. It fits Mariett Cummings’ description very well.

7 One did not have to be a Slowpoke to be a lazy, dawdling person – any kind of a Poke would fit that description.

8 See the diary of Francis Sawyer, immediately preceding Mariett Cummings’ journal in this volume, for the Sawyer family. The husband’s name was Thomas Sawyer.

9 Jim Bridger, of course, was one of the most eminent of mountain men. Cornelius M. Ismert, “James Bridger,” in LeRoy R. Hafen, Editor, The Mountain Men and the Fur Trade of the Far West, VI (Glendale, California, 1968), PP. 85-104; also a picture of the fort on page 102 and one of Bridger himself on page [15].

10 Deseret was the name given by the Mormons to their provisional secular state in 1849. The term means “Beehive.” It preceded the term “Utah” for the designation of a large area of the Great Basin. Arrington and Bitton, op. cit., PP. 162-163.

11 “No matter what route was taken by an overland party the going was difficult beyond the Continental Divide. Rocks mangled the feet of the animals and alkali-laden dust burned faces and throats. Moreover this high dry country was nearly always traversed at its driest and hottest period, and as the trains increased in number the ground, even on the lush prairies eastward, was churned to fine dust that enveloped the route in a perpetual crowd. By 1852, when 100,000 people had already crossed the country, the dust-cloud never had a chance to settle, watering and camping places were perpetually fouled, and within a month after it sprouted all forage was gone for a long distance on both sides of the trail.” Nevada, A Guide to the Silver State (Portland, Oregon, 1940), P. 114

12 Her “instrument” was a melodeon.

13 Probably the North Fork of the Humboldt.