Part 6

Now and then we came upon a spring, when our water casks and every vessel that could be used for the purpose were filled to the brim, and yet again and again we suffered from thirst, but not so keenly as while crossing the desert.

Whenever I slept, it was to dream of the river we had left behind us on the border of Pike County, wishing that it might be possible for me to go to its banks once more, and, even though the water was muddy, drink my fill.

In due time we came to that point in the trail where we were forced to march directly over the face of the mountains. Here our fathers found the way so difficult that once more the teams were doubled up, twelve or fifteen yoke of cattle being put on one wagon, and, after hauling the heavy load to the summit of the range, driven back to get another.

Of course our progress was slow, and we traversed mile after mile only with severe labor on the part of the men and boys, for we girls and the women did no more than walk in order to lessen the load.

Then we came to a narrow passage amid the rocks, which was most frightful to look upon, although there was nothing whatever about it to cause alarm.

It was a gorge or cañon much like a tunnel, where the light from above was like a slender silver thread, and we went down into a narrow defile, where was barely room for the wagons to pass, and where the rocks, dark and fearsome, rose hundreds of feet above our heads.

THE BEAUTIFUL VALLEY

When we had passed through that forbidding place we received our reward, for we came into a most beautiful valley with water and grass in abundance, and, although it was yet early in the afternoon, there was no thought of anything save making camp, that we might enjoy the blessings which were spread out before us.

Before the sun had set Eben Jordan had killed another antelope; but he did not dare go far from the encampment in search of other game, for no sooner had twilight come than we could hear the howling of the wolves around us, until one's very blood ran cold. It seemed certain, and indeed was a fact, that we were literally surrounded by those ravenous animals, which were kept at a respectful distance only by the glare of our camp fires.

Next day, when we took up the line of march again, it was the same old story of climbing over rocky ridges and descending into valleys where could be found no signs of vegetation, until we had come to a very network of streams.

At our next camp we were visited by a party of Snake Indians, who, like the other savages we had seen, pressed around us, begging for bits of bread.

SNAKE INDIANS

Those Indians were not at all like any we had seen before; their clothing, what little there was of it, consisted mostly of rabbit skins sewed together to form cloaks. To my mind they resembled more the Negroes than the Indians; but father said, save for their inclination to steal anything upon which they could lay their hands, that we need have no fear whatever regarding them, because they were known to be peaceable. The men were armed only with bows and arrows and seemed to have great fear of a gun or a pistol.

The visitors had with them a quantity of dried meat and roots which they wanted to trade with us for bread or for blankets; but our store of provisions was not so low that we would willingly eat what those creatures had prepared.

They lingered around the encampment, however, coming as closely to the wagons as our people would permit, and we girls and boys were told to keep careful watch lest they steal all our possessions.

Just at sunset, one of the men who was standing guard over the cows shouted that a wild beast was creeping up on us from a thicket a short distance away, to the right of where father's wagon stood.

Looking up quickly, I saw a huge panther crawling, as you might say, much as a cat approaches a mouse, and it seemed to me that he was making ready to spring directly upon us girls.

Ellen and I clambered shrieking into the wagon, where we hid our heads in a feather bed like the silly children we were, and straightway there ensued the greatest tumult that can be imagined, as our hunters strove to kill the ferocious animal.

It is, perhaps, needless for me to say that the panther escaped, although Eben Jordan claimed it would have been possible for him to kill the beast, had he not been hampered by frightened girls and men.

A SCARCITY OF FOOD

When the march was taken up once more, we journeyed over a less forbidding, although a not very pleasant, country, seeing antelopes at a distance, but so wild that even Eben Jordan strove in vain to bring one down.

During four or five days we marched westward, seeing now and then great numbers of animals which would have served to provide us with fresh meat, but our men were unable to kill any; then we found our supply of food growing so small that it was decided each person should have at a single meal no more than one slice of bacon and a piece of corn bread as big as a man's hand.

There is no good reason why I should set down such mournful details. While we were pressing steadily but painfully westward, so hungry that it seemed to me I could have eaten anything resembling food, and thirsty until my tongue was parched, the rays of the sun beat down upon us with pitiless fury, until we were so worn that life seemed at times like some frightful dream.

I can remember distinctly, however, what happened on that day when we heard those who were leading the train, shout that we had come upon water in abundance. When Ellen and I, leaping out of the wagon, ran forward, we saw before us several large springs from which the water was bubbling generously. Our delight was even as great as the disappointment was bitter, when the water was found to be almost boiling hot.

SPRINGS OF HOT WATER

It seems hardly possible that any liquid could come out of the earth so warm, and if I had never left Pike County I would have set down such a tale as a fable; but we did find boiling water, so hot that when Eben Jordan let down into one of those springs a slice of bacon tied to a string, it was well boiled in less than fifteen minutes.

However, we were not to be deprived of water even though it was hot, for father proposed that we fill some of our cups, declaring it would be sweet to the taste once it was cool.

This we did not only once, but three or four times, during the continuation of the march, for we came upon many of those hot springs on the trail after we left the banks of Mary's River.

Then came a day in August when, after an unusually wearisome march, we suddenly overtook two emigrant wagons in which were fourteen people who had come from Missouri.

Verily it seemed as if old friends were meeting, for as our train came in sight, some of the strangers began to sing, "My name it is Joe Bowers," and however weary I had once been of hearing that tune, it now sounded in my ears like music.

That evening we spent visiting; those people, like ourselves, were traveling toward the land of California, and only those who have been journeying in the desert and through the wilderness, without meeting any human beings save Indians, can understand how intent was the pleasure we experienced in being with our own kind again.

The emigrants decided to join our train, and we were right glad to have them with us, although their store of provisions was no greater than ours; but all were put on what father called "short allowance," which was to each person two slices of bacon and two pieces of bread during one entire day. All our men who had guns were continually searching for game; but while we could see antelope and even wild fowl, both beasts and birds were so shy that the best hunters among us could not get within gunshot.

IN THE LAND OF PLENTY

And so we traveled on, hungry, thirsty, and weary, despairing now and then of ever coming again into a land of plenty, until we arrived at the Truckee River, which was more beautiful to my eyes than ever had been the broad Mississippi.

The waters of the river were clear as crystal and very cool, while from it our people took within an hour a sufficient number of trout to satisfy the hunger of all. It seemed necessary we should eat until it was absolutely impossible to swallow more, in order to atone in some way for the hunger that had pressed so sorely upon us during the ten days previous.

Eben Jordan said laughingly that we were much like the savages, who were starved one day and in danger of bursting with food the next.

THE TRUCKEE RIVER

It pleased me right well when father said that we were to remain in camp one full day by the side of this river, in order to give the animals the opportunity of feeding upon the rich grass which grew in abundance on every hand.

At last we had come into California, and a beautiful country indeed it appeared to me while we remained near the river,--all the more beautiful, perhaps, because of the suffering which it had cost us to get there. Both Ellen and I now came to believe our fathers had been wise indeed to leave the banks of the muddy Mississippi for so glorious a river as the Truckee.

All around us were evidences of bountiful nature, for the land was seemingly overcrowded with game, with food on every hand for the cattle, beautiful flowers, and everything which goes to make one happy.

How long the journey had been I did not really know until Eben Jordan came to where Ellen and I were sitting on the grass with the skirts of our gowns filled with flowers. He had in his hands a bit of paper on which he had set down, from what had been told him by the leaders of the company, the distance we people had traveled since leaving Independence. This was no less than two thousand and ninety miles, to which one must add, in order to learn how long was our march, the distance from Pike County to Independence, which would, so Eben said, make a total of about two thousand two hundred.

Even then we were nearly two hundred miles from San Francisco; however it was not the intention of our fathers to journey so far across California, for we had not come expecting to find gold, but to make for ourselves farms, where we could live comfortably by honest industry.

Already I am writing as if we had come to an end of our journey, and so it seemed to me while we remained in camp on the bank of the Truckee River; but there were yet many days of toil before we arrived at the place where our people had decided to buy land.

It was yet necessary that we cross the Sierra Nevada, where we found a seemingly impassable trail over the mountains, yet we knew that people like ourselves, traveling in the same way, had gone before us, and all the dangers and the difficulties seemed lessened because of the fact that we had come so near to where we intended to make our new homes.

A HOME IN THE SACRAMENTO VALLEY

After much labor in descending the Sierras, we came upon the first settler's house we had seen since starting out. It stood in the valley of the Sacramento, on what is called Bear Creek, and was owned by Mr. Johnson, who himself was a Piker.

To me the house was odd looking, not because of being so small as to have only two rooms, but because it was built half of logs and half of adobes, or bricks of mud which have been dried in the sun. It was a rough building, and yet how homelike it appeared!

Unfortunately Mr. Johnson and his family were not at home. The building was closed, and although the door was not really locked, it had been fastened with strips of rawhide in such a manner as to show that the owner wished to keep out stragglers.

As we journeyed leisurely and comfortably down the valley of the Sacramento, we saw now and then large droves of wild horses and elks feeding peacefully on the plains, and there was never a night when Eben Jordan, or some other of the hunters, did not bring in an abundance of game.

THE MISSION OF SAN JOSÉ

Then came that day when we arrived at the little village which is called the Mission of San José, and although everything about us was strange, we said to ourselves that at last we had come to our new home, for it was near that place our fathers intended to buy land.

The village of San José must at one time have had many hundred inhabitants; but when we arrived it was little better than a ruin. The houses, built of sun-dried bricks, were without roofs and crumbling slowly away, all of which appeared the more pitiful because of the well-kept church and the fortlike two-story house where lived the priests. Both buildings were in such good repair that they afforded a striking contrast to the tumble-down dwellings which could be seen near at hand.

I would love to tell how father built for himself a house on land which he bought from the priests of the Mission, and how mother and I set about making a home which should be somewhat the same in appearance as the one we had left in Pike County, but it is not for me to do so.

OUR HOME IN CALIFORNIA

It may be that at some time when our home here is fully made as we would have it, I can tell you how we live, what odd Spanish dishes we have on the table, how great a profusion of fruit is at our hand for the gathering, and very many other things which to me are most interesting.

I have learned to love this land even more than I did Pike County, which at one time I believed the most beautiful spot on earth, and although it pleases me now and then, when settlers come over the long trail, to hear the younger members of the company singing "My name it is Joe Bowers," I have almost forgotten that Missouri was once my home.

I have come to look upon myself as belonging to this beautiful valley where Nature is so lavish with all her gifts, and therefore, instead of calling myself a Piker, as in the days gone by, I dearly love to write so all may see, that I am now, and ever shall be as long as the good God allows me to remain in this world, Martha of California.

BOOKS CONSULTED IN WRITING MARTHA OF CALIFORNIA

BRYANT, EDWIN: What I Saw in California. D. Appleton & Co.

CLAMPITT, JOHN W.: Echoes from the Rocky Mountains. Belford, Clarke & Co.

CONNELLY, WILLIAM ELSEY: Doniphan's Expedition. Pub. by the Author.

DEXTER, A. HERSEY: Early Days in California. Tribune-Republican Press.

DRAKE, SAMUEL ADAMS: The Making of the Great West. Charles Scribner's Sons.

FRÉMONT, J. C.: The Second Expedition. Washington.

KNOWER, DANIEL: The Days of a Forty-Niner. Weed, Parsons Print. Co.

PAXSON, FREDERICK L.: The Last American Frontier. The Macmillan Company.

THORNTON, J. QUINN: Oregon and California. Harper & Brothers.

WOODS, DANIEL B.: Sixteen Months at the Gold Diggings. Harper & Brothers.