Part 3

All stood surveying these fearful rapids, waiting to see what the first order would be. It was decided that the Engineers should endeavor to get across and rig a bridge of driftwood. Several of us instantly prepared for the undertaking, a place being selected where the stream was divided by rocks and drift into four separate channels. The first two were not so swift as the others and we effected a crossing over them quite safely. The next was more difficult; several had a very narrow escape in crossing; but many, with the assistance of poles, succeeded in reaching the island. This was separated from the farther shore by a single additional channel, which, although narrow, was the most perilous of all. Three or four of the largest men made their way across, jumping first into the stream as far as they could, struggling as they were whirled down by the rushing current, and contriving at last to get hold of bushes on the far bank and so to drag themselves out of the water. By the aid of ropes we then managed to get a bridge of logs over the most dangerous channels, and the Regiment crossed with perfect safety.

A few rods below the wagons were crossing, and we were signally favored by Providence in getting everything over as well as we did, losing only two mules, which were carried off their feet by the current and instantly drowned.

_June 30_ (Wednesday). We went as far as the Medicine Bow Butte, a distance of sixteen miles. Our course lay over the lower bluffs of the Medicine Bow Mountains, ascending and descending the many steep hills. The surface was hard and gravelly, and covered with wild sage or artemisia.

About nine miles out we arrived at the "Devils Hole," a deep, rocky ravine, between the mountains, the almost precipitous sides of which are composed of loose, crumbling rocks. The descent was very steep and rough, requiring a great deal of labor to make it passable for the wagons. We worked some time at the stream here to enable the train to pass, and then proceeded. But we were soon brought to a standstill before another branch of Medicine Bow Creek, divided into several streams, and with the intervening ground swampy and covered with a thick undergrowth of sweetbrier; cottonwood, pine, and white poplar trees grow very densely here. When we reached the other side a rapid stream presented itself, which we soon bridged, however, with the trunks of trees.

We reached our camp ground quite late and very much fatigued and then prepared for muster, which took place at five o'clock. The Company was inspected by Colonel Andrews and the Quartermaster and Chief of Commissary. A large buck was killed to-day, and, tired as we were, we entered into the duties of the culinary department with considerable alacrity.

_July 1_ (Thursday). We went but three miles to Elk Creek, moving in order to secure a good camp ground. It is proposed to stay here for a few days, in order to recuperate the mules and get them shod, to cut timber for building bridges, and to burn a pit of charcoal--all preparatory to leaving the command, to commence our duties as road engineers. We are to go in advance, with a working party of Infantry accompanying us, provisioned for twenty-eight days. Parties are detailed to-day to cut and bring in timber, which is obtained about a mile and a half up the mountain, where timber grows in abundance: pine, juniper, and tamarack.

_July 2_ (Friday). The timber party is still at work to-day, notwithstanding that it is cloudy and rainy. Our pontons were taken out and overhauled, and two or three of them were condemned. We received six more wagons from the Quartermaster, to carry timber. Clothing was issued to all who were in need of it.

This evening our hunters, who were after game, returned with a young antelope and some long-eared hares--we had, consequently, quite an excellent stew for supper.

_July 3_ (Saturday). We were off betimes upon our new road, and marched as far as Pass Creek, thirteen miles. At the very outset we had three wagons obstinately stuck in mud holes, requiring two hours, at least, to get in motion again. We cut brush and boughs, to make a footing for the mules, and tied ropes to the wheels, and ourselves joined in the pulling. In this way we dragged out two of the wagons, but the other had to be entirely unloaded, the contents being carried about twenty yards, through mud knee-deep.

Our course ran through a deep ravine all the way, and we crossed four creeks, one of them a very difficult one. The banks were about five feet above the water, and densely covered by thorny bushes. The creek was too wide to jump, so we were compelled, _nolens volens_, to scratch our way down through the briers and then wade to the opposite side, where the scratching ensued again in climbing out. This nauseous smelling shrub, the sage, grows in great quantities. It makes our marching very disagreeable, being so stiff, gnarled and thorny, growing sometimes to the height of five feet and the largest trunks measuring from eighteen to twenty-two inches in circumference. Split and twisted, with a strong appearance of dead, dry wood, the bark resembles that of the cedar, being dry and shelly.

The day was exceedingly sultry and oppressive; the atmosphere was perfectly calm, not a leaf trembling, and the air seemed heated like that of a furnace, causing an unpleasant feeling of lassitude and a difficulty in respiration. The heat of the day was the more strange from the fact that ice was found this morning three-sixteenths of an inch in thickness.

_July 4_ (Sunday). We made one of the most fatiguing marches of the entire trip, and employed our minds in contrasting our celebration of the American Independence of to-day with that of last year. In no very pleasant mood, we made a march of fourteen and a half miles, and encamped on the North Fork of the Platte River. When we arrived at the river we found all the bluffs of sandstone, of curious shapes and colors, looking like stupendous churches or other buildings in various styles of architecture, surmounted by lofty minarets, turrets, spires and domes. At night, the scene might easily be taken for a city standing near us.

The road all through the march was about six inches deep with dust, and not a green thing was visible to cheer the aching eyes, half blinded by the glaring light which was reflected by the heated sand--not a blade of grass, nothing but sage, from one end of the march to the other.

One of our men shot a sage hen near the close of the march, and when we came into camp we set about to ascertain whether these fowls can be made into good food; a stew was made, but the word _good_ would be, I fear, a superfluity.

This afternoon First Sergeant Gerber took a party of men, the writer being one, and went some few miles up the river, to get a flat-boat which one of the guides informed us was hidden there. We found the boat, and as it grew dark launched it, commencing a passage down the rapid current of the Platte. We had not gone far, however, before the vessel upset, and the whole cargo of rifles and men was subjected to a cold bath. After some trouble in righting the boat the passage was resumed, two or three rifles and several hats making up all the losses that were sustained. But the members of the party also suffered considerable loss of blood during the trip, drawn by mosquitoes--they were so very troublesome that we had to wear handkerchiefs over our faces and gloves on our hands, and these were but a partial protection against their assaults.

_July 5_ (Monday). We commenced operations this morning by hauling our boat out of the water and repairing and caulking it, and covering it with canvas. We christened the vessel _The Sapper_, and I painted the name on the side. We launched the boat, towed it to the crossing and rigged up a rope ferry. All being ready we carried over two wagons, loaded with timbers, which are to start to-morrow morning, together with a party of men, to build a bridge over a creek.

_July 6_ (Tuesday). We began early to ferry over the train, and by noon had most of the wagons across. The party was sent a few miles ahead to build the bridge, and having completed that service returned to camp at night. We, for our part, carried over the last load about 5 o'clock, and then pitched camp.

_July 7_ (Wednesday). At reveille the Company was detailed into parties; one party as pioneers, equipped with axes, and another as pontoniers, to be left here to take down the ferry and then follow after the Company.

The pontoniers crossed over in the ferry, and after taking the rigging apart were obliged to recross the river on the pontons. We lashed them together, and packing on our ropes and tools, we made the crossing, using shovels as paddles. We left all the appliances of the ferry, that we thought the Indians could not steal, behind at the river for the use of the Infantry. We then packed the wagon, which remained behind for us, and, shouldering our rifles, we trudged on in its rear. A short march was expected, but we passed over two bridges that our men had built--they were strong and substantial structures--and continued on and on, without seeing anything of camp. Warm weather, dusty roads, and disappointed hopes rendered us extremely tired. A shower arose about 2 p.m., but proved to be more bluster than rain, making the dust on the road just moist enough to clog on our shoes. The breeze which attended the shower, however, proved quite refreshing. We at last found the train, after marching twenty and a half miles, going into camp at the foot of the Park Mountains, where we joined the Company in time to pitch our tents with the others. Part of the Company, together with the Infantry detail, was engaged in erecting a bridge over the creek at this place, which was completed before dark.

A corporal of our Company and one of Lieutenant Bryan's men were sent back to the Infantry, this morning, to leave a couple of wagons and the forge with them. They took three days' provisions, and were mounted on mules.

_July 8_ (Thursday). We marched fourteen miles. A portion of the Company went in advance, with Sergeant Wilson, to cut timber, and another, under command of Sergeant Vanderslice, to cut timber and build a bridge. The Company marched on, and, going through Bryans Pass, entered the long-looked-for Bridgers Pass, where we entered on a hill which is the dividing line of the waters, from which they flow eastward and westward. Excellent trout and other fish are caught in these mountain streams. There are no high, rocky mountains to be seen, and, I must confess, we were somewhat disappointed in the Pass. There is no vegetation except grass and artemisia, and the scenery is entirely too commonplace to satisfy our expectations of a pass through the _Rocky_ Mountains.

Some Indians were seen scouting about, of the Arapahoe tribe. And Sergeant Wilson's party saw two bears, but as their rifles were stacked some distance off the bears managed to make their escape.

Our camp is pitched among the sage bushes, infested with a tick or bug which we dread as much as centipedes or scorpions; a knife can not cut them, and there is no way of killing them except by burning. The nearest water is three-quarters of a mile from camp, and that scarcely fit to drink, the name of the stream, "Muddy Creek," plainly indicating the nature of the water.

This evening we unloaded all the wagons and took all the bodies from the running gear, in order to be ready to start early in the morning for timber.

One of the messengers who were sent back to the Infantry returned to camp this evening, our corporal having been left behind at the Platte, where one of the mules had been lost in crossing. They went back after the corporal this evening.

_July 9_ (Friday). We did not move our camp to-day, as twenty men were sent back twelve miles to cut timber. We spent nearly all the day in the woods, cutting fifty-four logs, each about thirty feet long and eighteen to twenty inches in diameter. We started back about 4 o'clock, but many little delaying accidents made it quite late before we reached camp. Some of our party fired the loads out of their rifles when we were near the Company, which alarmed the camp so much that all the men were turned out under arms, supposing that they were being attacked by Indians.

The Company was this morning divided into three squads, each assigned to a sergeant, to be kept by him during the campaign--each sergeant is to take his party for whatever service or duty he is given to perform.

_July 10_ (Saturday). Leaving the tents standing, as the sick were to remain here, we took the timber to where it was to be unloaded and used. Frequent recourse was had to shovels and picks on the trip, cutting down hills, filling up ravines, etc. We went about three miles, unloaded the timber, helped to pitch some tents, and then, the wagons having returned empty half an hour before, we of the new guard were obliged to walk back to the old camp to mount guard. But arriving there, we first put a new load on the wagons, then were given a half-hour to clean our rifles before guard mount.

There are seventeen men on the sick report, nearly all of whom are afflicted with mountain or sage fever. No doctor is with us, so we are forced to content ourselves with what medical advice a lieutenant's commission can furnish.

Sergeant Wilson's party is ahead, with the Infantry detail, laying out and constructing a road.

The writer was given charge of the compass and the odometer, with instructions to report daily to Lieutenant Duane.

_July 11_ (Sunday). Camp was moved about 10.30 a.m., and when we came up with the other two parties they struck tents and joined us. We went about two miles farther, and encamped on Muddy Creek. Our camp ground is rough, stony, and full of tall sage bushes, which we had to cut away in order to get room to pitch our tents. We are again besieged with ticks, mosquitoes and snakes during the day, and entertained by the howls of the wolves and coyotes at night.

An enormous rattlesnake was killed this afternoon--we cut up his snakeship and fried him, and several of us made a hearty meal, Lieutenant Alexander assisting. We found the meat quite sweet and delicate, so that all snakes that come near us hereafter will be in imminent danger of the frying pan.

The tobacco store was opened this evening, and we received our allowance of the same.

_July 12_ (Monday). At reveille the Company was divided. Forty men and two wagons were given to Sergeant Wilson. We found a great many places along the selected route which required improvement--there were hills to grade, stone walls to build, ravines to fill, and one bridge to construct over Muddy Creek. We were so busily employed during the day that we had no time to cook or eat, and when night came we were hungry enough to appreciate the cracker and piece of raw bacon upon which we made our supper.

_July 13_ (Tuesday). We arose early, our only reveille being the voice of the Sergeant, calling: "All hands ahoy! Let us early birds be out looking for the worm, for only the early bird catches him." We arose, had breakfast, and sallied out to work, leaving our tents standing and everything behind except haversacks and canteens, which were too necessary to be slighted. We began the construction of a bridge, but could not finish it on account of the timber not arriving. The Company camp was moved to-day to within sight of the bridge.

We enjoy ourselves vastly while on these working parties, notwithstanding hardships and privations. No roll calls, no guard mounting, no policing--nothing but peace and quiet from the time we quit work until we retire to sleep. We spend the evenings in joking, singing, and smoking.

July 14 (Wednesday). We arose at 4, and packed our rifles and accoutrements in the wagons, two men only in each of the four parties keeping their guns, in case we should be able to start up some game. We gained about eight miles on our journey to-day. Many deep gullies were encountered, requiring some time to be put into condition for travelling. A camp ground was selected among the Sand Peaks, outside of Bridgers Pass, and on Muddy Creek. It was within an hour of sunset, but as the Company train is to proceed some miles farther to-morrow, we were obliged to go a mile ahead, where an immense gully, about eighty feet wide, with sides about fifteen feet high, nearly perpendicular, was to be filled and graded. We all set to with a will, and finished this great bugbear of an undertaking within an hour. Sergeant Wilson received four days' more rations from the Company. The guides joined us this evening, as the country we are to pass over to-morrow is somewhat difficult.

_July 15_ (Thursday). This morning, as a long march was to be made on account of the scarcity of water, we were turned out at 1 a.m. Several large fires were built and we sat about them to eat our breakfast, after which, by their light, we struck tents and loaded the wagons. About 2 o'clock we assembled about the fire and made the surrounding mountains ring with the strains of the "Star Spangled Banner." There, in the midst of the wilderness, where the human form is but rarely seen, where the stillness of the night is almost painfully oppressive, where no sound is heard to break the spell of silence save the solitary howl of some disconsolate wolf, the shrill voice of the brooding owl, or the mournful, plaintive cry of the cuckoo--there did our voices swell out in harmony as we published to the hills our patriotic principles. And when, the chorus returned for the last time, and every voice was exerted to its utmost to do justice to the language, it seemed as though those very hills had caught the inspiration. As our voices ceased, and, for a moment, not a word was spoken, back from the distant hills came the sound, as of many voices, bearing the burden--

"O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave."

Three cheers were given for the invisible songsters, who as heartily responded.

Then we shouldered our tools and in single file followed the footsteps of the guide's pony into the darkness which surrounded us. All along the line jokes passed from man to man, laughter rang out in merry peals, and occasionally a song burst forth. All was joy and mirth.

Our course lay principally over an extensive plain. In the distance before us could be seen the irregular outline of the mountains toward which we are making our way. After marching eighteen and a half miles we came to our camp ground, and a most dismal one it is. No grass to be seen--nothing but deep sand and sage bushes; no wood nor chips to be found, and in their place only small twigs and sage bushes to burn; the only water that from a spring which furnishes poor water and insufficient quantities of that. The low ground about, which is all moist, is encrusted with nitrate of soda, magnesia, and potash. A severe storm of hail and rain occurred after we reached camp, and between mud and inconvenience our patience was sorely tried. But I believe, like "Mark Tapley," the worse the circumstances the jollier we felt.

The Company train came up and joined us this evening, and our tents were all pitched together. Our tools were turned in, as we are not to go in advance as a working party any more.

_July 16_ (Friday). We went only six and a half miles to-day, owing to so many places in the road requiring work. We encamped about a half mile from Haystack Springs, situated in a deep, rocky ravine at the base of the mountains, the name derived from three or four high rocks in the vicinity which bear a strong resemblance, in color and shape, to haystacks. The country over which we passed is rocky, rough, and densely covered with wild sage, through which we struggled at the risk of decorating the bushes with shreds of our clothing and staining them with our blood, which trickled from numerous scratches inflicted by the thorny branches. No living thing is found among these sage bushes except sage hens, a spectral looking hare, ravens, ticks, and ants.

_July 17_ (Saturday). We marched fourteen and a half miles and encamped at "Wolfs Spring," discovered by one of our Indian hunters, Wolf, and named in honor to the discoverer. Our camp is on the top of a very high hill, and the spring--the only place from which we can obtain water--is situated at its base, the descent being long, steep, and very rough. The water is pure, cold, and clear as crystal.

To-day a new disposition was made, a working party being detailed, and the remainder of the Company carrying arms. At every place requiring improvements the Company and train halted and waited until the working party was finished.

A fine, large buffalo was shot, and the tool wagon was dispatched to bring in the spoils. In the evening the game was divided.

Two expressmen, accompanied by Allen, our chief guide, left us this afternoon for Fort Bridger, to execute some important business and to bring back the mail.

_July 18_ (Sunday). In the morning a road was to be cut around the base of the hill. The task was accomplished by noon, the excavation being carried to a depth of seven feet on the upper side, through alternate strata of magnesian limestone and sandstone. We then struck camp and moved on, going only three miles, however, as water could not be obtained within nine or ten miles beyond this place, and it was too late to attempt to reach it. We camped at Banner Bluff, on Bitter Creek.

The bluff is a grand and curious geological formation, about twelve hundred feet in height, the side almost vertical and composed of alternate horizontal layers of protozoic and red sandstone, reminding one of the stripes of the American flag.

_July 19_ (Monday). We marched only ten and a half miles, but did not reach our new camp ground, which is again on Bitter Creek, until quite late, some obstacle or other presenting itself every few hundred yards to arrest our progress. The country was of the worst possible description, barren and sandy; the surface of the ground was baked to a hard crust, and broken by a network of deep fissures, some of them two or three inches across, resembling the gaps of a miniature earthquake. No vegetation, except a stunted growth of artemisia.

_July 20_ (Tuesday). We again encamped on Bitter Creek, after a march of fifteen miles. There is no improvement in the aspect of the country, although there was not so much labor, required in the construction of the road, the country being for the most part level or rolling. A great deal of poor coal is scattered over the ground, which is covered, throughout the latter six or eight miles of our march with a complete bed of these fragments, mixed with basaltic trap and a dark conglomerate containing an immense number of small shells.

To-day we were compelled to mourn the loss of one of our companions, who, afflicted with apoplexy, was left, a few days ago, with the Regiment. He died at 8 p.m. and was buried in his uniform, the Sixth Regiment escorting the body to its wild and lonely resting place, with the customary military honors. I, myself, carved the board erected at his head:

IN MEMORY OF WM. G. SLAYTER Of Co. "A," U.S. Engineers, Died July 19, 1858, Aged 27 years.

His was a frank and genial nature, and his many good qualities and cheerful disposition had established him as a universal favorite among his comrades. His death threw a gloom over our usually cheerful and buoyant spirits. This evening the camp was still. The customary song was not heard--no hearty peals of laughter rang out to disturb the solemn silence.