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Days On The Road

Sarah Raymond Herndon

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DAYS ON THE ROAD

DAYS ON THE ROAD

Sarah Raymond Herndon (signature) DAYS ON THE ROAD Crossing the Plains in 1865 BY SARAH RAYMOND HERNDON New York BURR PRINTING HOUSE 1902 Copyright, 1902, By Sarah Raymond Herndon. DEDICATED TO THE PIONEERS OF MONTANA AND THE “GREAT WEST,” Who Crossed the Plains in Wagons ....

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PREFACE.

PREFACE.

I do not expect to gain fame or fortune by the publication of this little book. I have prepared it for publication, because a number of the pioneers who read my journal twenty years ago, when published in The Husbandman , have asked me to. At that time I was a busy wife, mother and housekeeper, and could only write when my baby boy was taking his daily nap, to supply the copy for each week. No one knows better than I how very imperfect it was, yet many seemed to enjoy it, and the press that noti

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REMINISCENCES OF THE PLAINS

REMINISCENCES OF THE PLAINS

BY DR. HOWARD. Editor Husbandman .—Through your kindness to Mrs. Howard, we are a reader of your excellent journal. Hence a few months ago our eyes fell upon “Reminisences of Pilgrimage Across the Plains in 1865,” by S. R. H., and at once recognized the writer as the “lady who rode the gallant bay.” And now, sir, as we were an humble member of the gallant McMahan train, frequently referred to in her interesting journal, permit me through the columns of your paper to tender her the thanks and gra

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PRESS NOTICES.

PRESS NOTICES.

“Crossing the Plains in 1865,” is the title under which a lady in the Rocky Mountain Husbandman , is publishing a series of letters. The story of every-day life on the plains is so prettily written, that these papers repay perusal. We have been charmed by the native grace of the author, and we send her our compliments whoever she may be. We crossed the plains the same year, also, six years before, and we can fully appreciate the experience of our unknown friend who writes so charmingly.— Stock,

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WE START.

WE START.

May 1. As I sit here in the shade of our prairie-schooner, with this blank book ready to record the events of this our first day on the road, the thought comes to me: “Why are we here? Why have we left home, friends, relatives, associates, and loved ones, who have made so large a part of our lives and added so much to our happiness?” “Echo answers ‘Why?’” “The chief aim in life is the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness.” Are we not taking great risks, in thus venturing into the wilderness?

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OUR FIRST CAMP.

OUR FIRST CAMP.

As we were provided with fresh bread, cake, cold chicken, boiled ham, pickles, preserves, etc., supper was quickly prepared for our small family of four, and we enjoyed it immensely. Then comes my time to write, as I have promised friends that I will keep a journal on this trip. Mr. Kerfoot thinks the Government is going to smash and green-backs will not be worth one cent on the dollar, so he has turned all his money into gold coin, and stowed it into a small leather satchel—it seems quite heavy

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THROUGH MEMPHIS.

THROUGH MEMPHIS.

May 2. We were up with the sun this morning after a night of refreshing and restful sleep. Neelie and I commenced folding the bedclothes, ready to be sent to the wagons, when she startled me with a merry peal of laughter, “Look here, Miss Sallie, see ma’s treasure, she has left it on the floor under the head of her bed. Don’t say anything, and I will put it in the bottom of a trunk, where it ought to be, and we will see how long it will be before she misses it.” She thought of it while at breakf

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I MEET AN ACQUAINTANCE.

I MEET AN ACQUAINTANCE.

We came to Memphis about nine A.M. Court is in session, several friends and acquaintances, who are attending court, came to the wagons to say good-bye. Mother’s brother, Uncle Zack, was among them, he said, “Remember, when you wish yourselves back here, that I told you not to go.” “Yes, we will when that times comes and send you a vote of thanks for your good advice,” I replied. Cash, Neelie and I have been riding our ponies all day. We are stopping in a beautiful place for camping, near the far

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AN ADDITION TO OUR PARTY.

AN ADDITION TO OUR PARTY.

“Yes, but they won’t; do you suppose they are going to let us see them cooking and washing dishes? Not if they know themselves. Then they would have to play the agreeable once in a while, and that is what they are not going to do on a trip of this kind. I do not expect to see them, they would rather stay where they are another week than join our party.” “I believe you are right, Neelie, for he did not say good-bye as if he expected to see me very soon.” When it was time to stop for lunch, we fou

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BLOOMFIELD, IOWA.

BLOOMFIELD, IOWA.

We were on the lookout for Bloomfield, about ten o’clock we could see the spires and steeples glittering in the sunshine. When we reached the suburbs we stopped to wait for the wagons. When we reached the business part of the city, I dismounted and made ready to do some shopping, as a few necessary articles had been forgotten when purchasing our outfit. “Aren’t you going with me, girls?” “Oh, dear, no; not in these togs, short dresses, thick shoes, sun-bonnets, etc.” “I think we appear much bett

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BEAUTIFUL APPLES.

BEAUTIFUL APPLES.

After dinner mother washes the dishes and makes all the arrangements she can for an early breakfast. She thinks I am another “Harriet Beecher Stowe,” so she is perfectly willing to do the work in the evening and let me write. Oh, the unselfishness of mothers. I do my share, of course, mornings, and at noon, but evenings I only make the beds in both wagons. We have white sheets and pillow-cases, with a pair of blankets, and light comforts on both beds, just the same as at home, and they do not so

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MISS MILBURN’S LOVE STORY.

MISS MILBURN’S LOVE STORY.

“Of course you have heard about my engagement to Jim Miller. I know it has been talked about.” “Yes; I have heard the matter discussed.” “We have been engaged two years, and were to be married next month. He insisted that I must give up Ernest to mother. I felt that I would be violating a sacred trust, and that mother is too old to have the care of such a child, and I told him so. We quarreled, and while I was feeling hurt and indignant, I told Brother John I would go with him to Montana. He gla

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A LETTER TO BROTHER MAC.

A LETTER TO BROTHER MAC.

Monday, May 8. I left camp very early, and walked on alone, that I may write to Brother Mac before the wagons overtake me. I am seated in a comfortable fence corner, and here goes for my letter: Lucas County, Iowa , May 8, 1865. Dear Brother : We were delayed several days after the time set for starting, when we wrote you to meet us at Council Bluffs by the 10th. We thought I would better write, that you may know we are on the way, and hope to meet you by the 15th or the 16th. You must possess y

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THE ICARIAN COMMUNITY.

THE ICARIAN COMMUNITY.

Friday, May 12. Brother Hillhouse’s birthday. He is twenty years old. We made a birthday cake for him last night. We divided it into twenty pieces at lunch to-day, and there was just enough to go around and leave two pieces for himself. The girls say we must have some kind of a jollification to-night. I hope they will leave me out, for I want to write about the “Icarian Community.” We came through Queen City this morning, and this afternoon came to a town of French people, called “The Icarian Co

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A SWING AMONG THE TREES.

A SWING AMONG THE TREES.

Saturday, May 13. We drove only until noon, and stopped to stay over Sunday, so that we can do our washing and baking, without violating the Sabbath. We do not have collars and cuffs, and fine starched things to do up, but we have a great many pocket handkerchiefs, aprons, stockings, etc. We have pretty bead collars made of black and white beads, tied with a ribbon, that always look nice and do not get soiled. We are in a beautiful grove of trees. The boys have put up a swing. There is nothing i

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A FATAL ACCIDENT.

A FATAL ACCIDENT.

Monday, May 15. Alas, alas! How can I write the disastrous happenings of this day? My hand trembles and my pencil refuses to write intelligibly when I attempt to record the sad, oh, so sad, accident that has befallen us. We parted from our visitors this morning, and started on our way, feeling rested and glad to be journeying on again. How little we knew of what a day would bring forth. We stopped for lunch at noon in a little vale, or depression, on the prairie, but where there was no water. Ju

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BEREAVEMENT.

BEREAVEMENT.

Gus screamed, jumped from the wagon, ran to her brother, and raised his head in her arms. All who were near enough to hear her scream ran to them and she said, “John has hurt himself with his gun and has fainted, bring restoratives quick.” In a few seconds, there were half a dozen bottles, with brandy, camphor, ammonia there, and every effort was made to restore him, but all in vain. He died instantly and without a struggle. When Mr. Kerfoot knew he was dead, he looked for the wound and found a

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A FUNERAL.

A FUNERAL.

Tuesday, May 16. The boys sat up with the corpse last night. I stayed with Gus. We had only just shut ourselves in when a terrific storm came upon us; the wind blew, and the rain fell in torrents. Before eleven o’clock it had passed; soon after Gus slept heavily. It seemed hours before I slept. Very early this morning Gus awakened me praying. How surely do the sorrows of this life drive us to the mercy-seat for comfort, refuge and strength. What a precious, what a comforting, satisfying faith th

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ON THE BANKS OF THE BIG MUDDY.

ON THE BANKS OF THE BIG MUDDY.

Our journey across Iowa at an end, we are on the banks of the Big Muddy, opposite Platsmouth. We will stay here until Gus’s things are sold, and we have seen her off on the steamboat. I stay with her nights, and this afternoon is the first time I have left her since the 15th. Friday, May 19. I went over to Platsmouth on the ferryboat this morning with some friends that are camping near us, to do some shopping for Gus. I bought a black bonnet, crèpe veil and collar, and material for black suit, w

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OUR LAST DAY WITH MISS MILBURN.

OUR LAST DAY WITH MISS MILBURN.

Sunday, May 21. Mr. Thatcher and his wife came to call upon Gus this afternoon, and invited her to their home in Platsmouth to stay until she takes the steamboat for home. Mr. Thatcher and Mr. Milburn have been friends for years. She accepted their invitation and will go there to-morrow. As the people from different camps were sitting around an immense camp-fire, not far from our wagons, someone proposed music. Some of the men in Mr. Clark’s camp are fine musicians, they brought their violin and

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WE HAVE OUR PICTURES TAKEN.

WE HAVE OUR PICTURES TAKEN.

Wednesday, May 24. We were up with the earliest dawn, and our own individual outfit ready for a very early start, yet it was the middle of the forenoon before all the wagons were landed on the west bank of the Missouri. It takes a long while to ferry fifteen wagons across the river. We girls rode our ponies onto the ferryboat. They behaved as if they had been used to ferryboats all their lives. As we were waiting near the landing a stranger A came, apologized for speaking to us, and asked, “Are

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A YANKEE HOMESTEAD.

A YANKEE HOMESTEAD.

Friday, May 26. We came fifteen miles, are camping on a high rolling prairie, not a tree or shrub within sight; we are near a neat white farmhouse. Everything seems to be very new, but does not have that “lick and a promise” appearance that so many farmhouses in Nebraska have. Things seem to be shipshape, the house completed and nicely painted, a new picket-fence, and everything on the place—barns, hen-house, etc., all seem well built, as if the owners are expecting to make a permanent home. I w

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WE MEET A FRIEND.

WE MEET A FRIEND.

Tuesday, May 30. We girls were riding in advance of the wagons when we saw a long freight train coming. We stopped to let our ponies graze until they would pass. I glanced at the driver on the second wagon and recognized an acquaintance. “Why, girls, that is Kid Short,” I exclaimed. He looked at me so funny, and began to scramble down from his high perch. “Why, Miss Sallie, I could not believe my eyes at first. Where did you drop from?” shaking hands with each of us. “Didn’t drop from anywhere;

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ON THE BANKS OF THE PLATTE.

ON THE BANKS OF THE PLATTE.

Saturday, June 3. Here we are on the Platte with about two hundred wagons in sight. We are now on what is known as “The Plains.” My idea of the plains has been very erroneous, for I thought they were one continuous level or plain as far as the eye could reach, no hills nor hollows, but it is nothing else than the Platte River Valley with high bluffs on either side. There is some timber on the banks, but the timber of any consequence is on the islands in the middle of the river, out of reach of t

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THE ORDER OF OUR GOING.

THE ORDER OF OUR GOING.

Wednesday, June 7. There is such a sameness in our surroundings that we seem to be stopping in the same place every night, with the same neighbors in front and back of us, and across the corral. When we organized, Mr. Kerfoot’s wagons were driven just in front of ours and Mr. Morrison’s just behind ours, so we have the same next-door neighbors, only they have changed places. We are in the central part of the left-hand side of the corral. The wagons occupied by the Walkers and Hardinbrookes are j

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FORT KEARNEY.

FORT KEARNEY.

Saturday, June 10. I was disappointed in Fort Kearney, as I so often am in things I have formed an idea about. There are very comfortable quarters for the soldiers; they have set out trees, and made it quite a pretty place, away out here in the wilderness, but there is no stockade, or place of defense, with mounted cannon, as I had expected. Sim and I rode horseback through the fort while the wagons kept the road half a mile north of the fort. Only a few of us came by the way of the fort. A sold

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ELEVEN GRAVES.

ELEVEN GRAVES.

Monday, June 12. We stood by the graves of eleven men that were killed last August by the Indians. There was a sort of bulletin-board about midway and at the foot of the graves stating the circumstances of the frightful tragedy. They were a party of fourteen, twelve men and two women, wives of two of the men. They were camped on Plum Creek, a short distance from where the graves are. They were all at breakfast except one man who had gone to the creek for water, he hid in the brush, or there woul

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A NARROW ESCAPE.

A NARROW ESCAPE.

Tuesday, June 13. Cash, Neelie and I created quite a sensation this morning. We waited, after the train had started, to mount our ponies as we usually do. Cash and I had mounted, but Neelie led her pony, and we went down to the river to water them, Neelie found some beautiful wild flowers, and she insisted upon gathering them. Of course we waited for her. The train was winding round a bend in the road, and the last wagons would soon be out of sight. We insisted that she must come. “The train wil

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BEAUX.

BEAUX.

Nellie Bower has a pony, and rides with us sometimes. She is a very mature young lady for her age, and very pleasant company. Neelie and I were riding together this morning, while Cash and Nellie Bower rode a short distance ahead. We had been on the road about half an hour when Dr. Fletcher and Milt Walker rode up, requesting the pleasure of our company, in a very formal manner. Of course we smilingly bowed assent, and the doctor rode with Neelie, and Milt with me. It is the first time there has

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WE DECIDE TO GO TO MONTANA.

WE DECIDE TO GO TO MONTANA.

“Yes, so do the Walkers, and Mr. Hardinbrooke, and Mr. Morrison, and everyone else that are going to Montana.” “Well, why not go there?” “I do not like for you and mother to go there, for it will be rough living I expect, but I intend to go as soon as you are settled somewhere near Mr. Kerfoot’s folks.” “Just listen to the boy. Mother come here for five minutes, do. What do you think this boy is saying? That he is going to Montana when we are settled in California, or some other place.” “Well, i

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PRAIRIE DOGS.

PRAIRIE DOGS.

Tuesday, June 20. Winthrop was quite sick last night with cramp colic. I was up with him the latter part of the night, so was dressed and ready for my visit to Prairie Dog Town at an early hour. The little fellows were up, standing at their doors, and greeted me with a welcoming bark. Some of them turned and darted away, no doubt to tell others we had come, for they immediately came back to peep out at us and bark and chatter, as if carrying on a lively discussion. They seemed perfectly fearless

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PREACHING SERVICES.

PREACHING SERVICES.

We have had a preaching service this afternoon. Rev. Mr. Austin, of the Methodist-Episcopal Church South—the church that I am a member of—was the preacher. The services were well attended, and the sermon was fine. He compared our situation with that of “The Children of Israel” in the wilderness. He spoke of God’s care for them, and that He careth for us, spoke in an earnest manner of our dependence upon God, and our inability to take care of ourselves, or to accomplish anything without God’s hel

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MUSIC IN CAMP.

MUSIC IN CAMP.

Monday, June 26. Mr. and Mrs. May—a newly-married couple that came into our train at the junction of the roads—are both musicians; several of our young men have fine voices, and with Lyde’s guitar, and Mr. May’s violin we have had an enjoyable musicale away out here in the wilderness. If the Indians had been within listening distance it would be interesting to know what impression the music made upon their minds, as “Music hath charms, etc.” The music this evening has been the happiest feature o

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THE MOUNTAINS IN SIGHT.

THE MOUNTAINS IN SIGHT.

Thursday, June 29. We could see the mountains, as the sun was sinking behind them; they were plainly visible though one hundred miles away. It does not seem possible they are so far away. Long’s Peak and others near it are the points in sight. They look very much as I have imagined mountains would appear in the distance. Mr. Walker is my informant as to names of places, distances, etc. He has been over the road and seems to know all about it. We usually ride some hours in company each day, so I

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A TOWN OF TENTS AND WAGONS.

A TOWN OF TENTS AND WAGONS.

Sunday, July 2. It is wonderful, wonderful to behold how this town of tents and wagons has sprung up since yesterday morning when there was no sign of life on this north bank of the South Platte, and now there are more than one thousand men, women and children, and I cannot guess how many wagons and tents. The wagons have been crossing all day, the last one has just been driven into corral at sunset. I was sitting on the bank of the river watching with anxiety the wagons as they ploughed through

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WE WORSHIP IN THE WILDERNESS.

WE WORSHIP IN THE WILDERNESS.

There is to be a praise and thanksgiving service for our safe conduct through the deep waters and our protection from the Indians. The people are beginning to gather near the bonfire and I must go, too. Later. Our service is over; it was grand, the singing of the old familiar hymns by so many voices spontaneously was inspiring, the talks by five or six ministers of different denominations were full of love for the Master, and brotherly love for every one. An invitation was then given for all who

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WE CELEBRATE THE FOURTH.

WE CELEBRATE THE FOURTH.

Tuesday, July 4. We made corral at eleven A.M. , the captain announcing, “That we will stay four hours.” I do not know if we stopped so soon, because it is the Fourth, or because it is so intensely warm, and the sun beams so hot, or because it was such a delightful camping-place. Whatever the cause, there we rested beneath the shade of large cottonwood trees, and it was so pleasant. We had dinner at two. Our bill-of-fare—oyster soup, roast antelope with oyster-dressing, cold beans warmed over, d

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THE BLACK HILLS.

THE BLACK HILLS.

Friday, July 7. We are camped at the foot of the Black Hills. They seem like immense mountains to me. There are four large corrals near the little village of La Porte. We rushed through with dinner, then Mrs. Hardinbrooke and I started for the top, taking our note-books with us. Before we had gone far, Winthrop and Frank joined us. Frank brought his gun; I do not know if he expected to find Indians or antelope up here. After much puffing and blowing, climbing and clambering, we reached the top.

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WE VISIT A BEAUTIFUL SPRING.

WE VISIT A BEAUTIFUL SPRING.

Saturday, July 8. The scenic beauty of the route we have come over to-day was ever changing. We were either coming through a narrow cañon, across a beautiful vale, climbing or descending a steep hill or mountain. Nellie Bower and I had started on horseback to have the morning to ourselves, when Mr. Walker rode up and asked us to go with him to a lovely spring of delightfully cold, clear water he knew of, some two or three miles ahead. We consented, of course, and had soon left the wagons behind

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WE CUT OUR NAMES IN STONE.

WE CUT OUR NAMES IN STONE.

Monday, July 10. Just when we had mounted our ponies for our morning ride, Mr. Walker came and asked us to go with him to the top of a mountain we could see far ahead and to the right of the road. He said, “The prospect is very fine, indeed, from that mountain-top. I was there two years ago.” Cash and Neelie were included in the invitation, also Mary Gatewood, but their fathers would not let them go. So Nellie Bower and I were the only ones who were allowed to accept his invitation. We rode our

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LARAMIE PLAINS.

LARAMIE PLAINS.

Tuesday, July 11. The sounding of the bugle and the echo that reverberated through the mountain gorges this morning was enchantingly sweet, and must have driven slumber from every eyelid. We left the hills at noon and are camping on Laramie Plains. We came over some very steep, rocky roads before we reached the plains. I watched the wagons anxiously as they descended the steep, rocky mountain-side, bounding and bumping against the big rocks, expecting and dreading an upset, but all landed safely

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IN THE RAIN.

IN THE RAIN.

Friday, July 14. The men were until almost noon repairing the broken wagon. An accident that happens to one is assumed by all until results are overcome. As we were ready for the start, a little girl ran among the oxen to catch her pet crow; an ox kicked her on the forehead and cut a gash that had to have a few stitches and be bandaged, so we were delayed again. When order reigned once more we crossed the Little Laramie. It is very much like the Big Laramie, only not so wide nor deep; I rode Dic

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INDIANS.

INDIANS.

It is supposed the Indians killed the driver, took the horses, and it is not known yet whether there were passengers or not, the coach being so riddled with bullets; it is feared there were passengers. A guard of soldiers go with the coaches we meet, or that pass us now. We crossed Rock Creek on a toll-bridge, and had to pay fifty cents toll for each wagon. Just after we crossed the bridge, and where there is a sudden turn in the road, as it winds around the mountain, we saw where two men had be

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WE CLIMB ELK MOUNTAIN.

WE CLIMB ELK MOUNTAIN.

The doctor thanked me for the pleasure our morning ride had afforded him, and asked, “Can we not make up a party to climb Elk Mountain after breakfast?” “I hope so. I will ask some of the young people.” About ten o’clock a few of us commenced the climb. Lyde Walker, Nellie Bower, Cash and Neelie, Sim Buford, Brother Hillhouse, Dr. Howard and myself. We were well paid for the effort; we found beautiful wild flowers, and some wild strawberries not five feet from a snow-bank. The snow is in a ravin

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WE CROSS THE NORTH PLATTE.

WE CROSS THE NORTH PLATTE.

Thursday, July 20. The ground was covered with a white frost this morning, and it is freezing cold. Mrs. Morrison and Frank are better; Delia’s mouth is healing. Neelie continues to drag around; she will not acknowledge that she is sick enough to go to bed, but she certainly looks sick. I wish they would call Dr. Howard; somehow, I have more faith in him; perhaps because he is older and more experienced. We are on the banks of the North Platte; arrived about three o’clock, did not stop for lunch

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NEELIE IS SICK.

NEELIE IS SICK.

Saturday, July 22. We are within sight of Pine Grove in Wyoming Territory. Neelie was very much better this morning; almost well, she said at noon, and rode her pony this afternoon. I was riding with her when I noticed a heavy rain-storm coming. I begged her to come on and not risk getting wet. “Oh no, Miss Sallie; I don’t want to ride fast. This air is so delicious, and I think I want to ride alone for a while; you go on, and I will come very soon.” I saw it was useless to urge her. I am always

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THE SUMMIT OE THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

THE SUMMIT OE THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS.

Monday, July 24. We passed the summit of the Rockies to-day, and are camping on the western or Pacific slope to-night. The ascent has been so gradual we should not have known when we reached the top but for the little rivulets running in different directions. Quite on the summit and very near to each other we saw two little rivulets starting on their way; one to meander toward the Pacific, while the other will empty its confluence into the Mississippi, and thence on to the Gulf. Just a scoopful

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SIM BUFORD SICK.

SIM BUFORD SICK.

Wednesday, July 26. Last evening as I was on my way to sit with Neelie I met Ezra. He said, “Miss Sallie, Sim is quite sick; very much like Cousin Neelie is, I think. I wonder if we are all going to be sick?” “Oh, no; I hope not. I am very sorry Sim is sick.” When I left Neelie—a little after midnight—sleeping quietly, to come home, I noticed a light in the wagon that Sim and Frank occupy. I did not awake this morning until everything was ready for a very early start. Mother had kept my breakfas

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OUR TRAIN DIVIDED.

OUR TRAIN DIVIDED.

The separation of the train is being talked of, and is no doubt absolutely necessary, for the herd is so large it is hard to find pasture for them all together. When the division is made, those going to California will form one corral, and those bound for Montana will form another. This will separate us from Mr. Kerfoot’s family; I do hope we will not have to part while Neelie is so sick. I do so want to help take care of her. Thursday, July 27. Among the families that came into our train at Kea

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WE OVERTAKE THE CALIFORNIA TRAIN.

WE OVERTAKE THE CALIFORNIA TRAIN.

Friday, July 28. We came up with the other half of the train about ten o’clock, and have traveled in company the rest of the day. We have separate corrals about two hundred yards apart; the stock is not herded together. Neelie has been restless with high fever and flighty when she dozes; with eyes half open, poor girl she is certainly very, very sick. We are near a delightful spring, cold as ice, and clear as crystal. I went to the spring to bathe my face and hands, and brush my hair. Mr. Kerfoo

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ON BITTER CREEK.

ON BITTER CREEK.

Sunday, July 30. We came fifteen miles to-day, but have not overtaken the California train. It must be that Neelie is no worse, and their traveling yesterday did her no harm, or they would have waited over to-day; we shall hope so anyway. Dr. Howard rode with me this morning. We are traveling on Bitter Creek, which is considered the very worst part of all the road. I had heard so much about the desolateness of this part of the country that I expected to find a barren waste. It is not so bad as r

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DELAYED ANOTHER DAY.

DELAYED ANOTHER DAY.

Wednesday, August 2. We had a very cold night; there was ice a quarter of an inch thick this morning. Several head of Hardinbrooke’s and Walker’s cattle were missing this morning; the men have been hunting them all day, they were found this evening in a cañon four miles from camp; there were the tracks of two horses, with shoes, that had driven them there. The Indians do not shoe their horses, so there must be thieves besides Indians in this country. And here we are another whole day’s drive beh

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A FATAL SHOOTING.

A FATAL SHOOTING.

We rode a while in silence, then Frank said, “That is not all the bad news I have to tell, Miss Sallie.” I looked up quickly and asked, “What else has happened, Frank?” “Frasier was shot and killed day before yesterday evening.” “Oh, Frank; how did it happen?” “Hosstetter did it, but I think he was not much to blame.” Frasier is the man who spoke to Cash, Neelie and I, as we were watching the wagons ferried across the Missouri River, whose son ran away from his mother, and home, to come to his f

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TRIED FOR MURDER.

TRIED FOR MURDER.

Everything had a funereal appearance. Men stood around in small groups talking earnestly in a low voice, whittling sticks, the incessant occupation of most men when trying to think. Those with whom we are acquainted bowed as we passed them, without speaking. I was soon off my horse and ready to see Neelie, while Frank took Dick to hitch him for me. As I approached the tent where Neelie is, Mrs. Kerfoot came to meet me. “How is she, Aunt Mildred?” I asked anxiously. “We think perhaps she is bette

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WE LEAVE THE TRAIN.

WE LEAVE THE TRAIN.

The wagons had started, so I mounted Dick and was off. As I came into the road I looked back, and saw Milt coming in sight, driving his lame oxen. I left the road once more and went to Frasier’s grave. His son has set it with prickly pears, so closely that it will make a pretty mound if it grows, and will be a protection from wolves, unless their hides are thick and tough. Poor boy, he must have been seriously scratched while transplanting the prickly things, but perhaps it was a relief to his m

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WILD CURRANTS GALORE.

WILD CURRANTS GALORE.

Tuesday, August 8. We caught fish enough for breakfast last evening, and gathered currants enough for sauce, but I spoilt the sauce by putting the sugar in, when I put them on to cook, they hardened and were not fit to eat. I have been experimenting to-day and have succeeded in making a nice cobbler. I did not sweeten at all before baking, but made the sauce sweet enough to sweeten all. I also made a fine sauce by cooking the currants only a very few minutes, and putting in the sugar after they

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MR. CURRY’S HORSE STOLEN.

MR. CURRY’S HORSE STOLEN.

Saturday, August 12. It was considered unnecessary for any one to stand guard last night, as we had come two days’ travel from where the suspicious characters live. So all went to bed, retired early, slept soundly, and even neglected to put Cæsar’s rug in its usual place—under our wagon—so he went into the tent with Mr. Curry’s boys to find a comfortable bed, leaving the camp entirely unguarded. One of our big horses wears a bell. I was awakened in the night by hearing an unusual rattling, and t

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ANXIOUSLY WAITING AT HAM’S FORK.

ANXIOUSLY WAITING AT HAM’S FORK.

Sunday, August 13. It was decided this morning that Hillhouse, Sim and Mr. Curry would go in pursuit of the horse thieves. Sim is just recovering from a severe sickness, and is not able to go on such a trip, but he positively refused to stay in camp and let Hillhouse and Mr. Curry go without him. I believe it will prove a wild goose chase, so mother and I exacted a promise from Hillhouse that he will not stay away to-night. We are looking for him. It is getting dark. Surely they will not leave u

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THE WANDERERS’ RETURN.

THE WANDERERS’ RETURN.

Thursday, August 17. I was awakened very early this morning, as soon as it was light, by hearing Hillhouse bustling about making a fire in the stove, as if in a hurry for his breakfast. I dressed as quickly as possible, and hastened out to see what it meant—for it was only four o’clock. When I asked for an explanation, he said: “I am going to hunt those men. I can’t stand this any longer. I have laid awake almost all night thinking about them.” “What can you do? You will be lost yourself.” “No d

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SIM’S STORY OF THEIR WANDERINGS.

SIM’S STORY OF THEIR WANDERINGS.

“After Hill left us that first afternoon, we walked on as fast as we could, as long as we could follow the trail. Then made a fire, ate some supper without anything to drink. We had not seen water since noon. “We rolled up in our blankets and lay down with our feet to the fire and tried to sleep. I am sure I did not sleep an hour, I was so tired and nervous. As soon as it was light enough to see, we were up and ate a dry breakfast, for we could find no water in the vicinity. We were soon followi

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BEAR RIVER MOUNTAIN.

BEAR RIVER MOUNTAIN.

Friday, at noon, August 18. I am on the summit of Bear River Mountain, in the border of a beautiful grove of pine and quaking-asp, near a spring of the most delicious ice-cold water. I must be some miles ahead of the wagons that I left toiling up the steep mountain side. Yet I do not feel that I am alone. Oh, no. I feel that God is here in his might, majesty, power and glory. I feel His nearness now, and as I gaze from these dizzy heights upon the country spread out beneath my feet, I am lost in

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WE MEET CAPTAIN HARDINBROOKE’S BROTHER.

WE MEET CAPTAIN HARDINBROOKE’S BROTHER.

Saturday, August 19. We left the Chilicothe train this morning. As it will take all day to get the wagons mended, they cannot start to-day. We came on to Bear River, reached here a little after noon, and will stay here until to-morrow. We crossed a toll bridge on Smith’s Fork, and met Captain Hardinbrooke’s brother at the bridge. He is going to meet the train. He did not know of Mrs. Hardinbrooke’s illness. He asked very especially and with some confusion, “Is Miss Walker well?” Ah, I think I kn

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MORMON TOWNS IN IDAHO.

MORMON TOWNS IN IDAHO.

Monday, August 21. Since we crossed the last steep mountain the horse flies have been very troublesome, the first that have bothered us all summer. I wonder if the Indians brought them? We came through two villages to-day; they are about five miles apart. The first Bennington, the last Montpelier—pretty large names for such small places. They are Mormon towns, although this is Idaho Territory. The women appeared sad and sorrowful enough to be the wives of Mormons. I did not see one of them smile

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WE MEET MEN RETURNING TO THE STATES.

WE MEET MEN RETURNING TO THE STATES.

Thursday, August 24. We came to a toll bridge over the Blackfoot this morning, where the toll was one dollar per team, and fifty cents for horseback riders. There had been an excellent ford just below the bridge. The men collecting the toll had spoiled it by digging ditches on both sides near the bank. The water was clear, and they were plainly visible. Hillhouse mounted Dick to see if we could ford it. One of the men screamed out at him: “You will mire your horse if you try that.” “I’ll risk it

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MOTHER AND I SAVE JOE’S LIFE.

MOTHER AND I SAVE JOE’S LIFE.

Later.—The boys came back very much discouraged after working an hour, and said: “The blood will not flow, and he is swelling frightfully. I fear he will die, for when the blood will not run and the animal begins to swell, they cannot be saved.” Mother said: “We will not let him die without further effort, at least. Come on, Sarah, let us try what we can do for him.” We melted a quart of lard and put it in a long-necked bottle (that we had brought for the purpose of drenching horses or cattle),

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DICK IS SOLD. OH, DEAR.

DICK IS SOLD. OH, DEAR.

Sunday, August 28. It was scarcely daylight when that hateful man was here again after Dick. I had just finished dressing when Hillhouse came to the wagon and said: “Shall I let Dick go?” “Do as you think best.” And I threw myself on the bed for a good cry. I had not stopped crying when he came back, and throwing a buckskin purse into my lap, said: “There is your pony.” There was one hundred and twenty-five dollars in gold dust in it. I sobbed out loud. Hillhouse looked at me with contempt in hi

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MOTHER’S BIRTHDAY.

MOTHER’S BIRTHDAY.

Wednesday, August 31. Mother’s birthday. She is fifty-three years old. We have not been able to celebrate it especially, yet she is not likely to forget it, though spent in climbing a Rocky Mountain range. We have been now four months on this journey. Have lived out of doors, in all sorts of weather. It has been very beneficial to mother. She was looking frail and delicate when we started, but seems to be in perfect health now, and looks at least ten years younger. I have not heard her utter one

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SWEET WATER CAÑON.

SWEET WATER CAÑON.

Saturday, September 3. We came through a deep, dark cañon this morning, and passed the grave of a man that was robbed and murdered last week. It is the deepest and darkest cañon we have traveled through. Ten men have been robbed and murdered in it in the last two years. We were in no danger of being molested. Only men who have their fortunes in gold about their person are intercepted, robbed and killed. How awful it seems. Why will men be so wicked? In several places in the cañon the road has be

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THE END OF OUR JOURNEY.

THE END OF OUR JOURNEY.

Mrs. Curry, Sim, Hillhouse and I are going to town as soon as Mrs. Curry is ready. We held a council whether we should get out our street suits and last summer’s hats, or go in our emigrant outfits, sun-bonnets and short dresses, thick shoes and all. Decided in favor of the latter. No doubt the people of Virginia are used to seeing emigrants in emigrant outfits, and we will not astonish them. Evening.—We were not very favorably impressed with Virginia City. It is the shabbiest town I ever saw, n

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