Part 4

As it was agreed to start early, I went in company with some others to fetch our cattle from some three miles up the river, where they had been feeding. A snowstorm came on about daybreak and I had the full benefit of it. I walked several miles in search of a couple of ponies that belonged to the company and was at last compelled to return without them. The face of the country there is nearly destitute of vegetation, wild sage, greasewood and an occasional bunch of grass being the entire product of the soil. We left Big Sandy at about eleven and a half A. M. with the intention of traveling all night and reaching Green River the next morning. We pushed on as fast as we could against a strong wind and a blinding dust. A little before sundown we stopped an hour for supper and to feed our cattle, having gone fifteen miles. This over, we entered the night, and the most tedious part of our journey. With the sun went down the wind and we hoped that an agreeable night would follow such a boisterous day. But we were disappointed. A dark cloud overcast the sky and soon a snowstorm came drifting in our faces, and continued all night. At twelve o'clock we stopped to rest and feed our cattle, and then pushed on till eight o'clock in the morning, when we reached the Green River. The country between these streams is not so barren as I was led to suppose. It is but little more so than much of the ground we had passed over before, west of Fort Laramie. Green River is about 1,000 feet lower than Big Sandy. Upon this stretch of forty miles there is not a drop of water, and this is the reason why it is so barren. Our cattle stood the drive very well. In the morning the sun shone out clear and warm and the thin mantle of snow soon disappeared beneath his beams. Distance, forty-six miles.

JUNE 18.

About 7 o'clock this morning we came within sight of Green River, apparently not far off, but several hundred feet below us. After the most disagreeable night's travel I ever experienced, we were elated at the prospect of being so near a stopping-place, but on following the trail we had to go about three miles further before we got down to the river. Green River is about twenty rods wide here and so deep that it has to be ferried. In the Spring it is said it can be forded, but it is swollen now in consequence of the snow melting at its sources. There are two ferries, which charge $7 per wagon. We made arrangements to have ours crossed this evening, and accordingly they were taken over without accident. I am told that four men were drowned the other day in attempting to cross on a raft. Some companies find it difficult to make their horses and cattle swim the stream, but ours went over without trouble. We found the grass rather scarce near the ferry, and drove our cattle three miles up the river, where it was first-rate. In company with three others of our party, I went up about sundown to watch the cattle over night. Nowhere upon the way have I found a more beautiful place than this. The valley of the river is broad and Spring's first fresh carpet of grass adorned with fragrant flowers. The numerous varieties of shrubs divided and subdivided the valley into picturesque lawns, and gave more variety to the scenery. We built a good fire of dry wood, and spreading our buffalo robes upon the grass, we laid down to rest, one watching at a time and being relieved at intervals by the others.

JUNE 19.

This morning we drove the cattle back to the wagons and taking breakfast while our company were preparing to start, we were on the march by 7 o'clock. Here we entered a decidedly mountainous country and our road is very crooked. After winding over and around the mountains for about eight miles, we came to a tributary of Green River, which we expect to travel up for several miles. We went two miles up this stream and rested for an hour or two. We found good grass by driving our cattle across the stream, which is narrow and deep. Quite a ludicrous incident occurred here. As I said, the stream is deep, though narrow, our cattle being compelled to swim it when only eight or ten yards wide. Well, when we were ready to start, somebody must cross over to bring the cattle back. After some equivocations, two men were chosen, and having undressed and went a little higher up the stream, they plunged in, but instead of swimming, they struck their knees upon the bottom, and having raised upright in two feet depth of water, walked the remainder of the way across, amid the laughter of the whole company. We crossed to the south side of the stream about two miles further on and left it. After going seven miles further we came to another, and two miles more, another still, by which we stopped for the night. We see snow all round us and have very cool nights. Distance, nineteen miles.

JUNE 20.

Continued our march over a mountainous country, the most rough I ever saw. From some of the elevations we could see the trail for miles, dotted with men, horses and, more distinctly, the white-covered wagons. We passed numerous small streams, flowing from the mountains. After going about seventeen miles, we reached Ham's Fork of Green River, and encamped four miles beyond it on the open prairie, where we found good grass, and water we had in store. The day has been pleasant, more so than any we have had since we left the Sweet Water. This morning I had a fine view of the Bear River Mountains, about seventy-five miles distance, stretching around the sky from the south to the southwest. Their summits are covered with spotless snow. At Ham's Fork I saw another party of the Snake River Indians. Most of them looked very squalid and miserable, and beg provisions of all they can. They are less prepossessing than the Sioux, though they are well supplied with guns and horses. They are good horsemen and use their sharp-pointed arrows with the certainty of a bullet. The mosquitoes began to trouble us today for the first time. We expect they will lay a long siege to our blood. Distance, twenty-one miles.

JUNE 21.

Country continues very mountainous. In the afternoon we passed over a very high range, to descend which ropes had been used by former emigrants on a trail near the one we took. We had two wheels of our wagon locked for more than a mile, and then it was hard to keep it from running over the cattle. The mosquitoes stick to us like genuine friends, especially during the day; at night it is too cool for them. At noon we stopped by a fine stream of water, in a deep gorge of the mountains. In the afternoon we ascended another high range of mountains, from the summits of which we could see far below us into Bear River Valley. This stream is as large as the Sweet Water, and courses its way through a rich and beautiful valley, from three to six miles in width. We encamped in the valley at night by a large pond of very poor water, but the grass was excellent. Distance, twenty-two miles.

JUNE 22.

Continued down the valley of Bear River. In the forenoon we passed four branches of the stream, which came within a few yards of each other. Some of them were deep and all difficult to cross, but we got over in safety. There is good grass in this valley. Four miles after dinner brought us to Smith's Fork, which we crossed in safety, though we had to raise our wagon-beds in order to keep them dry. Day warm. Thunder and lightning, but no rain. The river makes a sudden bend south, and the trail leaves it and lies over a spur of the mountains, reaching it again in about eight miles. After going about four miles, we came to a long and difficult hill. In the valley east of it is a stream, which empties into Bear River within sight. Some of our company thought we could reach the river by sunset, but the first ascent being set at nought, their calculations were wrong. It was nearly sunset by the time we reached the summit, and here, without wood or water, our cattle being tired, and one having fallen dead in coming up, we determined to stop for the night. A party of us returned to the stream for water, to make coffee, etc.--a distance of about two miles. As we descended the mountain the mosquitoes commenced an assault upon us and General Taylor would have been compelled to surrender upon this occasion. I never before saw them half so numerous or so bloodthirsty. They stung my hands so much that they were soon badly swollen. After fighting them about half an hour, we were successful in getting back with a few quarts of water. Distance, twenty miles.

JUNE 23.

This morning we drove four miles to Bear River and stopped for the day, all needing rest. A family of the Snake Indians came to our camp and asked for sugar and powder. They were dressed in dirty buckskin and looked very wretched. We see already upon the road numerous stragglers, men having lost their teams and provisions, and those who started unprepared. Our speed on the road has been much better than we expected. For more than a month we have seen the same companies, some of them supplied with the best teams. Distance, four miles.

JUNE 24.

Started early this morning, all in good spirits. Continued down the valley but were not within several miles of the river for most of the day, and did not come close to it at all, though we crossed a great many streams, which came down from the range of mountains on our right, and emptied into Bear River. Though we had crossed many streams during the day, at night we camped not less than three miles from it. A couple of our men went to the river for some water, and when they returned they declared that it was not less than four miles to it. It appears about one mile and a half. Road today excellent. The wild sage which covered most of the country from Fort Laramie to Green River is not so prolific in this region, but a great many plants spring up among the grass, some of which bear beautiful blossoms. Distance, twenty-six miles.

JUNE 25.

Went two miles to water and took breakfast; about eight miles farther we came to Cold Springs. They spring up out of the plain near the trail and make quite a respectable stream. The water is remarkably cold and good. Opposite the Cold Springs, and about a half a mile to the right, is another natural curiosity, called Beer Springs. These springs are so called from the fact that these springs have a sour taste, somewhat resembling beer. It springs out of an elevated, light-colored rock, which I suppose was caused by the petrification of certain properties in the water. Upon the center of the elevation are several sharp-pointed rocks, from which the water rushes. Several of these conical rocks, larger than the rest, are now exhausted. They must have been great curiosities when in full play. Four miles further on, and within two yards of Bear River, are Steamboat Springs. The water of these springs, which gushes from the rocks is warm, which is the more remarkable from the fact of its being so close to the river. Just beyond this place the Bear River bends suddenly round the mountains, to the south, and here we leave it. It is well known it rises in the great basin and empties into Salt Lake. A little to the west of the bend is the old crater, so called from the supposition that it was once a volcano, the base alone remaining. The rocks in this ruinous-looking place bear the marks of fire. Opposite to the old crater the road branches off to Fort Hall, the one we are traveling (Hedspeths [?] Cutoff), continuing west. Distance, twenty miles.

JUNE 26.

This afternoon we crossed the vide that divides the waters of the Great Basin from those of the Pacific. This we know from the fact that we crossed a branch of the Pont Neuf River. At night we encamped by the Pont Neuf. It is from ten to fifteen yards wide, and deep. We saw some Snake Indians today. They have plenty of horses, which they offer to sell. The country before us appears very mountainous. I must cut today's note short, as it takes both hands to keep off the mosquitoes. Confound the mosquitoes! Distance, twenty miles.

JUNE 27.

Today our road led over very mountainous country. We crossed two high mountain ranges, with a fine stream of water between them. In advance of us our path was filled up with mountains, one upon another. Snow to be seen. There are two classes of mountains in this region, the largest covered with snow and the smaller one having vegetation and filling up the space between the others. Upon the peaks of some of the highest mountains is a stunted growth of cedar, which gives them rather a dark appearance. I have often heard when at home that buffalo did not abound west of the south pass, but I have seen numerous evidences in the shape of skulls by the road; but it is said by the Indians that there are not at this time any buffalo in this region, nor has there been for six years past. A sufficient cause for their entire disappearance in this region I cannot fully understand. Distance, sixteen miles.

JUNE 28.

Most excellent road today, and down hill all the way, except a circuitous narrow gorge in the mountains of about four miles in length, which we went through in the afternoon. In descending the western slope of this range we found the road very steep, though we came down in safety. At the soda springs we saw an old man who called himself Captain Grant. He assured us that one half of our cattle would die on the cut-off, for want of grass, and also that the road was almost impassible and no nearer than that by Fort Hall. This statement in respect to grass is utterly untrue, and we suspect the others are of like character. Grass on the cut-off is first rate--better than we have before seen on the road. Wild flax abounds in this region, though not in abundance. It is now in full bloom and looks quite like a flower garden in some places. We stopped by a little stream at noon, beyond which water is not so plenty for about twenty miles. There are willows growing along this stream. The road turns south after we cross it. We laid here until three o'clock and then went on about eight miles, passing over a range of low mountains, and encamped at night in the valley. A shower of rain in the afternoon. Distance, twenty miles.

JUNE 29.

Went down the valley about four miles to where it turned west over the mountains, when we unyoked the cattle and drove them in a southeast direction to a spring of water. About eight miles more brought us to a valley in which were several good springs. In the afternoon went eight miles and found another spring of good water. Here we took in water for the night and encamped just beyond, where we found good grass. A little animal abounds in this region called the prairie squirrel. It is a little smaller than the common black squirrel, and gray in color. We see hundreds of them every day, and they are often killed with clubs and whips. I first noticed them in the vicinity of Fort Laramie, and have seen them every day since. The Indians, the Snakes principally, shoot them and use them as an article of food. Road good, weather pleasant. Distance, twenty miles.

JUNE 30.

This morning we continued through the range of mountains which we entered yesterday. In the forenoon found plenty of water, passing several springs, and at length came to a mountain stream, which we followed down the valley. At noon we stopped opposite to a spur of rock. In the afternoon we struck out across the valley in a western direction. After crossing the stream which we followed in the morning, we went about twelve miles before we reached water. This stream was but four or five feet wide, but deep and difficult to cross. In this valley there is an abundant growth of wild sage and grease wood, but not much grass. Distance, twenty-seven miles.

JULY 1.

Went four miles this morning and came to what we supposed to be Raft River. It is about six yards wide and deep, like most of the other rivers in the mountains. We forded it and went up its valley about one mile and laid by till about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when we proceeded three miles further and stopped for the night, the grass in which a heavy swath could be cut. Just after we crossed Raft River we came to the junction of the cut-off with the Fort Hall road. Those with whom we have spoken about the road represent it as being further and the worst of the two. On that road there are one or two very bad streams to cross, and also a mirey district. Distance, eight miles.

JULY 2.

Went up Raft River a short distance, when we crossed it and struck out in a southern direction. We went up a gentle slope for several miles and then descended into a wide valley, in which we crossed several streams and found plenty of grass. By one of these brooks we stopped at noon. In the afternoon we proceeded, and after going three miles, we entered the mountains again and went through a rugged region through the remainder of the day, though the road was good and water plenty. Towards evening we came to the junction of the Fort Hall and Salt Lake roads, about nineteen miles from where it crossed Raft River. We fell in with some emigrants direct from Salt Lake and got all the news we could. Provisions are represented as being very high there--flour $1.00 per pound and other things in proportion, except butter and milk, which are comparatively cheap. Distance, twenty-one miles.

JULY 3.

In the morning we went up Sleet (?) Creek, which we followed a mile or so up a ravine, and after descending the other side of the mountain, we reached what is called Goose Creek, a distance of about ten miles. This part of the day's drive was bad. In the afternoon we proceeded up Goose Creek about twelve miles. This stream is about six yards wide and the valley is narrow; grass good. Weather hot. Distance, twenty-two miles.

JULY 4.

The Fourth of July! What a glorious day, and how honored at home, but to the travel-worn emigrant, in the eternal wilds, this day's remembrances hardly stir the sluggish blood. All are rushing to the gold region, and few stop to celebrate the Fourth of July. We drove as usual, wild sage and dust being about the only thing in the eye. We followed up Goose Creek and a tributary for about ten miles, when we struck out across a high, dry country, destitute of vegetation, except wild sage, etc. After going twelve miles, we came to Thousand Spring Valley, and going down it a little more than a mile we found water and tolerable grass, where we stopped for the night. Day hot! Distance, twenty-three miles.

JULY 5.

Continued our march down the valley for ten miles, when we turned to the right, and on going two miles, came to what is called Dry Creek. In the afternoon we followed up this valley. In it there is the channel of a creek in which there is a little indifferent water in holes. A little farther on we noticed more water in the creek, and presently we saw it had increased to a stream. About ten miles up we stopped for the night, where we found a well of tolerable water. Grass first rate. Distance, twenty-two miles.

JULY 6.

We went up the valley this morning eight miles and crossed the stream which I suppose is called Cold Creek. Five miles more brought us to the end of the valley, where we found a good spring of water. In the afternoon we went over a range of mountains, and after going eight miles, came to another valley, in which we found a spring and good grass. Weather warm. Distance, twenty-one miles.

JULY 7.

Continued down the valley all day, except a few miles over a point of land running into a bend of the river. We found water in sloughs along the valley and at night came to a stream which is the head waters of Mary's or Humboldt's River. The valley is here broad and the grass good, though the soil is considerably impregnated with alkali. The weather cool and cloudy, with heavy rain seen falling upon the mountains in the afternoon. We begin to think that we have gained upon the great mass of emigrants, as we have not seen so many in the last few days; but this is owing to some extent by some having stopped at Salt Lake to recruit and others having gone by Fort Hall to Oregon. We at present overtake more than overtake us. Distance, twenty miles.

JULY 8.

This morning we reached the main stream of the long looked for Humboldt. The crossing was bad, the water being deep and the banks steep, though the stream is but about eight yards wide. The valley opens broad and affords a very extensive view of the country in advance of us. On our right rise the Humboldt Mountains, whose summits are covered with snow. The last rays of the setting sun are now lending to their spotless mantle a warm, rosy glow. One by one the lofty peaks lose their transient splendor, and outline after outline loses its distinctness in the sombre hues of evening. No timber in sight, except a little underbrush by the river. Today we passed a new-made grave, in which sleeps the last sleep of an emigrant who was shot a few days ago by an Indian, while on guard. Indians were about for the purpose of stealing horses and really did succeed in capturing one while the mounted guard was receiving the attention of the whole company. The fatal arrow was poisoned. This murder will raise great animosity against the Indians and the future emigrant, as he passes by the grave of his murdered countryman, will feel a spirit of revenge. The Root Diggers infest this region, a most savage and degraded tribe. Distance, twenty miles.

JULY 9.

Continued down the valley this morning some seven miles, when we came to a branch of the river and forded it. It is longer than the first we came to, though better to ford. At noon we met five men who had their team of six horses stolen last night by the Indians. There was but a single horse left among the five, and being unable to proceed with their effects, they were waiting for some fortunate opportunity. We put their provisions in with ours, intending to assist them through the journey, giving them equal advantages with ourselves. We take one of them in our wagon. This afternoon they found a written notice put up by the way, cautioning emigrants against the Indians, and stating that some twenty-five horses had been stolen by the Indians in that quarter within two or three days. They were taken in the night. A mule had been shot and a man captured and robbed. This will arouse new vigilance. We have not yet heard of any cattle being stolen. Distance, twenty-two miles.

JULY 10.

Nothing of note today. Continued down the valley thirteen miles by noon, then ascended a mountain and took a very circuitous course for the remainder of the day, making nine miles by night. Distance, twenty-two miles.

JULY 11.

Went down the Humboldt and crossed another stream, tributary to the former. After crossing it we commenced ascending a range of mountains and continued in this character of country for some fifteen or eighteen miles; but little water, and that in springs in the mountains. At night we reached the Humboldt again after having been from it some thirty-five miles. This portion of the road is new. The usual road is near the river, but could not be traveled now on account of high water. The face of the country is very barren, always excepting wild sage. Our road is very dusty. The dust is so light that the least wind raises it, though it does not impede the wheels of the wagons but little. Sometimes the dust is so heavy that we cannot see the wagon immediately ahead of us in the train. Quite a number of packers pass us daily. Provisions begin to get scarce. Constant applications are made. Distance, twenty-six miles.

JULY 12.

Having made a long drive yesterday, we rested today till noon. As we started we turned off to the right and reached the river again at the end of eight miles, continued along it a mile or two, crossed another low range of hills about two miles across, and camped for the night by the Humboldt, a short distance further on. Distance, twelve miles.

JULY 13.