>^ V' ^^. .0^ \mfA^^ '^^ ;: ^^r/>, u ^^^ ^\^ .V "V * o « o *> Twice Across the Plains 1849 . . . 1856 ■df^ BY W. J. PLEASANTS 1906 PRESS OF WALTER N. BRUNT CO. 609 MISSION STREET. SAN FRANCISCO. ei LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Cooies Received MAR 19 1906 ^ CMyrisrht Entry ^ COPYHIGHTKD 1906 By \V. J. Pleasants W. J. PLEASANTS. \ To the niemorv of my noble father, my com- panion in every privation and pleasure, tliifc little volume is dedieated. CONTENTS, History of the Pleasants Family 11 J- E. Pleasants 1»> Preparing for the Journey 1~ J. Al. Pleasants • • 20 The Start from the Lone EI n '2<) Epidemic of Cholera 28 The Burial of John Lane ^>2 Death of Julius Wright :'..') Death of William Hensley :'.7 Protecting Ourselves from the Indians 42 The Crossing of the South PI i tie 4 1- The Black Hills Country 4? The French Trapper 4S Fording Laramie Fork ;')•") Devil's Gate ^^» The Rocky Mountains (iO Captain Hamilton and th.e Sioux LKliins <)2 The South Pass <">4 1"he Great Divide '>•"> The Desert Country <>■> Thousand Spring Valley ~'> The Humholdt River To Starting on the Oregon Trail SO Death of the Pet Oxen s:^ Camping at AFud Lake 85 Reaching Sacramento Valley 80 Death of Mr. David Myers. Sr SO Snow Storm in the Deer Creek Country SS Deatli of Mr. WiUiam Afassey S!) Arrival at IJid well's Bar <)2 Death of Jerry Overstreet \)?> Indians Steal our Cattle 95 Death of Tom Fristo 90 Digging for Gold at South Fork 09 The :\J en of '49 101 Attack of Outlaw Joaquin ATurietta 103 Journey Down the Sacramento Valley 10.5 Returning to Missouri 108 The Arrival 1 09 Starting for California 1 13 Lost in the Darkness 115 Cheyenne Indian Warriors 117 The Buffalo Chase 122 The Mirage 127 Fort Laramie 131 Sweetwater Creek 1 32 A ^ylysterious Warning 135 The Indian Attack on the Humholdt 140 ^Meeting my Father on the Bank of the Hum- holdt 141 Crossing of the Humboldt Desert 14S Sierra Nevada Mountains 151 Arrival at Sacramento River 153 The Train of 1S49 155 Tile 1'rain of 1X50 157 PEEFACE. This little voluiiu', a chronick' of events in the life of the writer during two trips across the plains to C'alif(n'nia in IS-t';) and 18o(), while in tl;e glamor of his earlv niaidiood. is a truthful narrative of his experiences, told in the simplest language at his comnumd, and with a strict avoidance of anything pertaining to exaggera- tion or distortion. "THE AUTHOK/' rieasants" A'ailey. Sept. U, 1UU5. TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS CHAPTER 1. For the ^^ako of tho;^e of my own hlood wlio mav soiiu' day read tho^e pages, it might l)e well in the heginning to refer brieliy to the fonn.la- tion of our family in America. Its history on these shores commences with the early setclement of the State of Virginia, when, in the year KiliS, one John Pleasants, a (Quaker, came over from Norwich, England, and located at ''(hirles," a little town on the James Eiver, not far from wliere the City of Rich- mond now stands. To trac the family name through the suc- cessive generations of that early period would require much spaci', and therefore he an in- justice to the general reader; hence I will omit the data liearing thereon and l)egin again at the year 18()!i, at which tinu' Edward Pleas- ants, my grandfjither, emigrated with his fam- ilv from (iooehland cininty. \"irginia. to Lin- coln county, Kentucky. 1S41) — TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1850 It was Jieri' that my father, James ^I. IMeas- anls was Ixn'ii on the '^^th (Uiy of April, 1801). August 8, 1833, he was united in marriage to Afiss Lydia ^lason, and two years hiter. l)eing desii'oiis of going furtlier West, lie moved to Missouri, where he loeateil. Here in the peaee- ful pursuits of a farmer, he reai'ed his family. Jn January, 1849, the news of the discovery of gold in California reached Western Mis- souri, where our home was and spread with great ra])idity throughout tlie entire region and soon nothing else was talked of in country or in town. Farmers, merchants, mechanics, law- yers, and even ministers of the gospel, fascinated by the wonderful stories of vast wealth uncov- ered hy the miner's pick in the far-off land l)ordering on the miglity Pacific, shared in the general excitement, and so much interest was manifested in the subject of emigration to that distant region that the (pu'stion now was, not who would go to California, but, rather, who would stay at home. 12 18^9 TWICE ACROSS THE TLAINS 185() Some, however, from the very beginning, argued that it was foolish and foolhardy to leave a prosperous community in order to embark upon a venture that was not only dangerous in the extreme, Init was at best doubtful of re- sults and lial)le to prove in the end disastrous to all concerned. And, indeed, it did take courage to tear one's self away from a happy hoane, the delightful society of relatives and friends, and plunge into the depths of a vast, almost unknown wilderness, roamed by savage wild beasts and still more savage men. Now and then, too, there would drift in from that distant region tales of desperate attacks on lonely caravans and of the ruthless slaughter of men, women and little innocent children by the hordes of hostile Indians that infested the wild lands lying between the outposts of civi- lization and the far away land of gold. After the first wave of wild excitement and enthusiasm had died away and men had time to reflect a season on the perils of such an under- 13 18-19 TWICE ACROSS THE I'LAIXS 185G taking, and could in a measure realize the hard- ships necessarily incident to a prolonged jour- ney through a country without roads or other appurtenances of civilization, many of those who had heen among the first to volunteer for the trip rid themselves of the outfits already purchased and signified their intention to re- main at home. But the more adventurous spirits, those whose names were afterwards linked im])erishal)ly with the history of progress and vigor and manhood of the West, were only too anxious to encounter and grapple with the dangers lurk- ing everywhere along the lonely trail leading to the distant land of promise. My father, then in the full strength of his manhood, positive and daring in his nature, and with an ahiding faith in the future greatness of the vast empire stretching out in limitless grandeur towards the West, had long heen pos- sessed of a desire to turn away from the con- jested district where we then lived, and he 14 f^^ :;i::AJt-' %t ■K- J. E. PLEASANTS. 184!> — TWIC1-: At'iJOSH THE plains — 1856 among the first to seek a home and found an estate somewhere beyond the houmhu'ies of the Kooky Mountains. My mother had passed away, leaving hiui with six ehiidren, and with the family tie thus broken and the news from C^alifornia eoming. as it did at this time, just a few months after our terrible bereavement, my father determined to carry out his long cherished plans and at once began his })reparations for the journey west- ward, lie had two good light wagons that he had made with his own hands, which were well adapted for a trip across the plains. Two friends, good, strong men, John and David Burris, volunteered to accompany him. These, with my father. James M. Pleasants; my brother, J. E. Pleasants; and myself nuide u}) the five that composed our party. Our outht. altogether, consisted of the two wagons, live yoke of good well-broken work oxen, one saddle mule, suthcient clothing to last ns eighteen months, for that was the length of time we ex- 17 l8iU TWICE ACKOSS THE I'LAIXS 185G pected to l)e gone, and a six months' supply of provisions, principally l)ac-on, flour, sugar and coffee. Actual experience afterwards taught us that we had made a mistake in not having witli us more dried fruit, rice and Ijeans. Each of us was armed with a good gun and there were several jiistols also in the party. To pro- vide against rainy days our wagons were cov- ered with lu'avy rain-jjroof canvas, stretched on hows. Altogether we did our l)est to pro- vide everything necessary for so serious an undertaking, hut after all our studied fore- thought in regard to the matter, the result was far from perfect, hut this realization came too late to remedy. While we were thus hending every energy to hasten the preparations for our departure, scores of others were doing the same, for, of course, our little outfit was to he one of many that would go to make up a large cara- van, handed together for C()in])auy and mutual protection. It was at this time, when we were almost 18 ^^^K ' ^^ ''' ^ jk ^ ^ J. M. PLEASANTS. 184!)- TWICI ACIJOSS THE IM.AIXS -1856 readv to gather at the starting point that the weak-kneed ones l)ega]i to falter, and. indeed, it was not a })leasant [)ieture to eonjure up. tliis two-thousand-niile journey over desohite wind- swept phiins. liigh sii(>w-ea})ped mountains, burning, waterless deserts, deep rivers to swim. treaeherous quicksands, and, more terrible than all else, the deadly ritle and keen scalping knife of the lurking savage. It took courage to face all these, and, at last, when the day to start did arrive and the long v\'agon train moved slowly away in the path of the setting sun, leaving mothers, wives, sis- ters and sweethearts and civilization behind, there was not one single coward accompanying it. It was on the sixth day of May, 184!). at D o'clock A. ^L, that our little jnirty started away from the beautiful town of Pleasant Hill in Cass county, Missouri, bound for the T.one l^lm. the ])lace agreed upon as the rendezvous IV)r all those who had enlisted for the expedition. On 21 1; c'lTort made to relieve the siek man. All the simple remedies known to ns were applied, Init tliese endeavors came to naught, for our friend grew gradually worse aiul after suffering in- tensely, died in the middle of the forenoon next day. Being entirely without those articles usually employed in such eases we prepared his Ixxly for hurial hy simply wra|)ping about it the nicest blanket we possessed and then laid him to rest on the north bank of a beautiful river, known as the Little Blue. Erecting above his grave head and foot l)oards l)earing a suitable inscription, we turned sorrowfully away from the lonely mound, leaving our friend to the care of Him who said, ^'Lo, even in the midst of the valley and the shadow of death T am with vou.'-' 33 CHAPTER II. TIktc was little joy among U8 as the journcv that had bccii so sadly interrupted was re- sumed. Knowing now that we carried with us the fatal germs of cholera, and too familiar with the history of the dread disease to l)elieve that it would l)e satisfied with a single victim and would henceforth leave us in peace, each in- dividual among us wondered in his own mind who would he the next unfortunate. And the question did not long remain unanswered. The beautiful weather that had l)een favoring us for -ro\vth of o-rasses. In order to find a suital)le cam})ing place for the night, we pull away from the trail and di- rect our course towards a spot some half a mile distant. Several of our party, among whom was William Hensley, an exceedingly lively, 36 1841) — TWICE ACK08S THE PLAINS 1856 jo\'Jal, good-natured fellow, were walking along together toward the point mentioned, when he laughingly said, "Boys, this would be a dread- ful plaee to l)e buried in. I should hate to die and 1)0 laid away in this low, muddy fiat." Somehow the remark struck us as being sig- nificant, for we could not help living in con- stant dread of that terrible unseen foe that was dogging our footsteps across the continent and would not be shaken off. Poor Hensley was the next victim. At about 8 o'clock that evening he was seized with the awful cramping that is the initial stage of the disease, and after suffer- ing all night in fearful agony, died at 8 o'clock the next morning, and he was buried in that same muddy valley. And so tlie irony of fate decreed that the i)rogram, the mere thought of which a few hours before had occasioned him the greatest horror, should be carried out to the very letter. Unnerved and discouraged by the death of their friend, Hensley's messmates, Middleton Storv and Emanuel, a nearo, con- 37 1841) TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1856 eluded to secede from the eom})any and retura to their homes, now aljout six hundred mile^ away. We argued and plead with the two men for an hour or two in our endeavors to dissuade theui from risking so hazardous an undertak- ing, for it seemed to us that it was far nu)re dangerous for so small a party to go l)aek than it was for all to go forward, Ijut they refused to reconsider their determination and return home : so, bidding them good-by, we pushed on, leav- ing their lone wagon standing, still surrounded by a few faithful friends, yet pleading with tliem to remain. Finally the negro, laying the wliip in Story's hand, said : "Mid, do as you please, but no matter what your decision may be, remember 1 am with you. If you return, I will go back also; stay, and you will still find me by your side.'' Story gave the off ox a sharp blow with tlie whip and the two animals, anxious to rejoin the herd that had so long been their constant companions, swung into line as they had done so often before, and our 38 18-1:9 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1856 two comrades were once more lieaded for Cali- fornia, and irom tliat time on nntil we reached our j(Hirney*s end swerved neither to the right nor k'ft. l)ut kept their eyes towards the setting sun, and foHowed where it led until they saw it sink to rest in the mighty waters of the Pa- cific Ocean. Tlie weather is once more clear and beautiful and the liealtli of our people much improved as our train winds up the south side of tlie Platte Piver. whicli at this point is about one mile wide. The current is swift and the water cold and muddy. Very shallow, it can be ford- ed almost anywhere, provided one keeps moving after havino- once entered the stream. If while crossing, a wagon is ])rought to a standstill, the swift current washes the sand from underneath the wheels and causes it to sink so quickly that a very limited stop may cause the loss of a valu- able wagon and cargo. The country lying south of the Platte, with its ta])le lands and low rollina' hills, is a favor- 39 1849 TWICE ACROSS TTIE PLAINS — 1856 ite feeding ground of the Iniffalo. Here they may he seen in eonntless tliousands peacefully oTazino". In aoino- to tlie river for water these animals seem to move in a straight line, one after the other, like an army of men on the march. Migrating from tlie far South, where they have passed the winter, the vast herds move slowly towards the distant river to quench their thirst in its sweet waters. The first one leaves a slightly marked trail, another naturally follows this, and a tnird cuts it a little deeper still, until finally the hundreds and mayhe thousands that have passed that way have left a straight, narrow, sunken path, several inches perhaps ])elow the natural surface. Tlien the rain comes. The land having a gentle in- cline towards the river, the water flows down these little ditches, carrying with it the loose trampled soil at the hottom, leaving guUys from three to six inches in depth. These are three or four feet apart, extend far hack towards the u])lands, and are a feature of the land ly- 40 1849 TAVICE A("K0.S8 THE PLAINS iSoO ing contiguous to the river for miles up and down the stream. Sometimes we are com- pelled to travel long distances along this un- even surface and the incidental and continuous bumping and jolting of the wagons is disa- greeable in the extreme. Since the good-bv to civilization on that beau- tiful morning in May last, though nuinv trou- bles have beset our pathway and we have drunk of the bitter dregs of misfortune, the expedi- tion has much to 1)0 thankful for. The cattle and other stock that started with us are still in good condition and doing excellent service, which is no small item when one stops to con- sider the terrible consequences that might re- sult should the men and women of our party be suddenly deprived of the means of transpor- tation here in the midst of the vast wilderness. It would not be possiljle to proceed on foot and carry with us a su|)ply of food and other nec- essaries sullicient to complete the journey. At all hazards the great mountain ranues Ivino- to 41 1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1850 the westward must Ije crossed l)efore the snow tlies, otherwise our situation would be pitiful indeed. Hence all along, being thoroughly alive to these dangerous possibilities, we have from the very beginning taken every precaution to safeguard these vital interests. If during the day we lay by for any purpose, our oxen, on being unyoked, are immediately taken in charge by two men, who stay with and watch them closely to see that they do not scatter or are not stampeded by Indians or other causes. After darkness sets in, these are relieved Ijy four fresh men, wdio remain until the hour of nine, when four others take their places until midnight, and this routine continues while darkness lasts. So there is not a moment of the day or night wdien our animals are not under the strictest surveillance. Continuing up the south side of the Platte for a week or two, we pass the point where the North Platte empties into it on the north side. About twentv or thirtv miles above the iunc- 42 ] TWICl': ACROSS THE I'LAINS ISoG tioii of thcso two streams 'I'hoinas ^loorc died of tlio chok'ra. Just here we make preparations to cross to tlie other side. Tliis looks to l)e a dittieult un- dertaking-, for the water is nearly if not quite one mile wide. First men on horsel)ack are sent across to gauge the depth of the channel and choose a route that presents the least ditficulties in the way of our crossing. These matters be- ing settled to our satisfaction, we raise all goods as iiigh up as possil)le in the wagons to keep them dry, and l)egin the passage with one horseman in front to guide the teams and two on either side to see that they are kept in place and continue moving. ^lucli time is consumed in making this |)ortage, l)ut linally, barring a few slight accidents, all are safe on the other side. There is one more cholei'a victim here — an old man named Kearns. Wo lies buried on a bUilT north of the river. Since our start and u]) to the ])resent time 45 . 1(S41) TWICE ACROSS TILE PLAINS 185G our course has hein a little north of a due west line. The general charaeter of the country has been low^ roiling ridges and table lands; the soil, rich, black and covered thielvly with nutri- tious grasses. There has been no timber to speak of except along the streams and tliat only a scrubby kind of cottonwood and willow. Wood for campfires has at times been unob- tainable, but usually we have had a small quan- tity of dry wood with us, earried for just such emergencies from some previous camping grounds where there was an abundance. If in a portion of the country where there was dan- ger to be apprehended from Indians, we have avoided stopping for the night near streams where there was timber and brush, not caring to take any chances along those lines. Frequently, however, when there was every indication that we would be free from molestation, we would seek the littk' creeks for our bivouacs, for along these there is always more or less l)rushwood, good materia] for small fires. Our people had 46 1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1856 just crossed over the South Platte River when I digressed for a moment to speak of the gen- eral topography of the country through which the expedition had traveled up to date. I will now resume the thread of my narrative. Leaving the river at this point of crossing we move in a northwesterly direction through a rolling hill-country and after making fifty miles or so reach the Xorth Platte, a fine stream ahout, I should judge, four hundred and fifty yards hroad. Deep, swift and icy cold, its wa- ters are dangerous, hut we cross it without seri- ous mishap, many of us swimming it over and over again while engaged in rendering assist- ance to the teams and wagons. Following up this stream, our course lying parallel with it, we travel for several days sometimes quite near its hanks and then again miles away. This is the Black Hills country, destined in tlie far future to l)e a wonderful gol d - ]) r du c i ng r egi on . And now listen: It is noon, and while stop- 47 1.S41) TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1850 ping for a brief interval to re;^t and Ijreathe our cattle, we are hailed by a man garbed in the dress of a frontiersman, fully armed and speaking with a broken accent. He boldly approaches our train and after questioning us closely con- cerning our pilgrimage, destination, etc., does not hesitate in turn to fully set forth the rea- sons for his own presence in this secluded lo- cality. A French Canadian, he claims that his occupation is that of a trapper. In age, some- where near thirty years, wiry in build, quiek and elastic in his movements, he is a splendid type of the class of men roaming the wilds of the great West in the interests of that giant organization known to the world as the Hudson Bay Fur C^ompany. This stranger is friendly and confiding, his manners agreeable and his personality rather unusually attractive. ''Why undertake the hazardous journey to California in quest of gold,'' said he, ''when right here in these hills, almost within a stone's throw of where you are now standing, and to be had al- 48 THE FRENCH TRAPPER. 1841) TWICE ACi;08S TliK PLAINS — 185G most for the asking, is vii-gin gold in quantities that wouhl stagger the dreams of avarice. Squaws in the Indian villages l)evond the river dig it in quantities and shape it into rude orna- ments for their own personal adornment. 11' you doul)t these asseriions of a stranger follow where 1 lead and verify with your own eyes the truth of my statements.'' Althougli our interest is wonderfully aroused hy his story, we are chary of trusting this man. His occu^^ation is that of a trapper, and traps are sometimes set for men as well as for beasts. And it behooves us to be wary, for in these da3s there are rife startling stories, told around tlie campfires in the gloaming, of little bands of emigrants while wending their way along the lonely trails, lulled into fancied security by a long season of peaceful surroundings, relaxing for a time the seemingly useless stern vigilance so long practiced that it had grown irksome, be- ing enticed by the fasc-inating story of some plausible stranger, into a deadly and)ush, the 51 lS4y — Twici-: ACKoss THE plains — IcSoG fortunate ojics slain, while the iiiifortunates, those made ea})ti\e, are led away to be put to a lingering death h\ every spueies of torture that a devilish ingenuity eould suggest. Tortures, the details of whieh eannot ])e put inlo pnnt> but so horrible in their eruelty that eould they be given to the reader it would almost freeze the very blood in his veins. But gold seeking was our business and \ve finally coneluded to investigate the trapper's story. With this end in view;, Captain Hamil- ton gave orders for the train to lay by for a day or two, and the next morning ten men^ well armed and mounted, set out, guided by our trapper friend. A eold rain was falling and as the river had to be crossed to reach the Indian village lying on its northern side^ the men, not relishing a swim in the icy waters in such weather, aljandoned the undertaking and re- turned to camp. This ck)sed the incident. l)ut it afterwai'ds occurred to nu' that the man wa.- sincere in his intentions and triitlifid in his 52 1840 TWICE ACROSS TflE PLAINS — IRofi stoi'}-, for since that time these same Blaek Hills have added many millions of dollars to the world's supply of the precious metal. 53 CHAPTER III. We are again on the move. The country gradually becomes more l)roken and hilly. Higli mountain peaks loom uj) in the distance, the nights grow colder, grass less plentiful and good camping places hard to find. Laramie Fork is the next stream we meet with. It is swift, clear, cold and about twenty yards wide at -the point where we forded it. Here is situ- ated Fort Laramie, where a garrison is stationed to keep the Indians in check and protect emi- grants. After several days travel up the south bank of the Xorth Platte we cross over to the other side. This crossing was the most dihicult and dangerous and we consumed more time in making it than any similar event yet encoun- tered. A crude ferryboat constructed of Indian canoes, in the manner })reviously described in this narrative, was the means by which we reached the opposite shore. It was a slow pro- cess and we were two days in completing it. 55 1819 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185(3 This boat was the |)r()})erty of a trapper, was propelled with oars and paddles and but one wagon eould be carried at a time. The river was about three hundred yards wide and so swift was the current it was necessary to pull or tow the miserable craft two or three hundred yards up the stream before starting, and then it would land about the same distance down stream on the opposite side. If I remember rightly we paid five dollars each for the ferry- ing over of the wagons. The cattle were made to swim across^ an operation l)oth tiresome and dangerous to the men who had charge of it, and requiring patience and skill also. A man on horseback would ride into the stream and the cattle were driven in immediately after him. For a time they would follow him in good order, maybe cover fifty or a hundred yards, and then, being partially ])linded 1)y the reflection of the sun in the water or for some other cause, they would turn from the straight course previously pursued and 56 lor fever-strieken woman in the wagon liack 72 1841) TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAIXS — 185G there at the rear end of the train is more than his manly heart ean bear. If he l)e a coward — oh, well, no need to dwell on his qualities ; the verv stones along the road- side know and recognize him as he passes hv. And so nncharitableness, selfishness, untruth- fulness, all in turn and in good season show their hideous heads if they exist in the individ- ual. Xo doulde life here, no pretension. A man is, simply, what he is, nothing more, nothing less. A few days more in a flat, sandy region brings us to a hilly section of country through which flows a stream called Goose Creek, a tributary of Snake River, which \vc follow for a day or two, then turn from it, Ijending our course toward the southwest, and presently reach Thousand S])ring valley, an uninviting spot lying flat and marshy between low hills. This valley is about warn >is that it is time io leave this Deer Creek country. This warning is accentuated by tlie discovery of certain marks, indis})utable proof, on tlie surrounding tind)ers, showing that the snow liere attains to a deptli of from eight to ten feet. Xo other incentive is needed to has- ten our departure. For to be snowbound now 1845) TWrCE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1S5() and iR'lpless, compclk'd to remain long dreary months in one desolate spot, the final outcome may l)e a repetition of the indescrihable hor- rors experienced by other sno\yl)ound trayeler?. And this, too, when almost in sight of that for which we had struggled and toiled and suffered so long to attain ? Oh, no ; not that, for heayen's sake, not that ! And so there is hur- rying to and fro, wagons are quickly put in or- der, cattle caught, yoked and coupled to them, whips crack and we are once more on the moye down toward the yalley of the Sacramento. Soon after leaying Deer Creek, Mr. William Massey died of mountain feyer. For seyeral days now our course lay through a yery rough country abounding in high hills. One day our train had arriyed at tlie top of one of these. The road leading to the yalley below was perfectly straight, yery steep and perhaps four hundred yards long. It had been cleared of the small oak brush that still stood thick, like a fence on either side. So al)ru])t was the incline, it was 89 1840 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185G thoiio-ht iii'fc'ssarv to rough-lock l)oth hind wheels of our wagons if we would make the descent safely. Que light wagon, drawn 1)}' a single yoke of oxen, drove up into position to be locked, but was halted too far forward over the edge of the declivity. The wagon, being on a slight down-grade, began crowding the oxen, and before the chain could l)e i)ut through the wheels the whole outfit, minus the driver, shot away downward like a flash of light, gathering speed as it went, and was soon lost to view in a great cloud of red dust. Strange to say, the animals, poor and weak as they were, kept their feet to the very ])ottom, where one of the wheels, striking a big rock, caused the yoke to snap asunder, and the two principal actors in tiie comedy quietly turned about and began eating a lot of grass tluit was in the wagon, thinking evidently that the occurrence was simply a part of the regular j)rogramme, and therefore not entitled to Ix' thouglit tlie least l)it sur])rising. 90 w^^ 1S4*.) TWICIC AC'IIOSS THE PLAINS 1S5G One (lav more and we pass into the eastern edo-e of the Sacramento vallev. Here there is o another deatli from mountain fever. Jerry Overstreet is the vietim and we l)urv him on a little liill just ahove the vallev. On our way down the Sacramento, we pass Lawson's place. He is the man who Uiid out the road we liave heen traveling, from ^[ud Lake on, the same heing called ^'Lawson's cut-off." Our course is now steadily down the Sacramento river, along which we get our first sight of Spanish horses, and saddles with wooden stir- rups. It is now ahout the first of October, feed for our stock is excellent, and we see numerous hands of fat Spanish cattle roaming over the Sficramento ])lains. When within twenty-five miles of the junc- tion of the Feather and Sacramento rivers, we turn east and strike the former stream at the foothills and ci'oss over to the eastern side, then wind throuuh the hills for twentv or twentv-five 93 1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1856 niilo8 fiirtlier, until, on tlic fiftcentli day of Oc- tolxT, we reach the mining camp known as Bid- well's Bar, named after the rich har on the Feather river discovered hy John Bid well, the same John Bidwell who, years afterward, in 1875, hecame a candidate for the office of Gov- ernor of California on the Independent ticket. So the long- journey is at last at an end and we are in the land of our dreams, after having heen five months and eight days, or ahout one hundred and sixty-two days, on the road. In all that time not a w(U"d from home has reached us, neither have those there received any tid- ings from the father and lirothers that so many months ago vanished from their sight and were swallowed up hy the mists of the vast wilder- ness. AMiat of the result? On leaving home, it was confidently expected that we would return within eighteen months, at least partially successful. But it is six long years — years of lahor and disappointment, of hopes and fears — ere many of us go hack. Some 94 1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1 — TWICK ACHOSS TlIK PLAINS IHT)!; A few (lays after our arrival at BidwclFs Bar Tom Fristo was attacked with cholera morbus and died within a few hours. His was the fourtli deatli to occur in a family of five that belonged to our party, John Kearns l)eing tbe only sur- vivor. His father, two uncles and a brotber- in-law having passed away. The diggings known as Bidwell's Bar, where we now are, covers about one acre of ground, and is of course all located. Tbe dirt yields from ten to one hundred dollars per day to the num. We have as yet done no good so far as mining is concerned. The precious metal can be found almost anywhere in small quantities, l)ut under the conditions existing here the deposits must 1)0 ricli to make them worth the working. Provi- sions of all kinds are very scarce and high in price; pork, flour and beans bringing from one dollar to one dollar and fifty cents per pound. The supplies hroiigbt by our party were now 96 1840 — - TWICE ACHOSS THE PLAINS 185() about c'xliaiisted, and most oi' ii8 were out of moiie}' also. To make matters worse the rainy season set in about tlie twenty-fifth of October, earlier than usual, so the old timers say, hence most of the foodstuffs that had been brought in got wet before they could be properly housed. During the winter that followed we paid one dollar per pound for flour that had become almost a solid nuiss, and had to be cut from the barrel and the lumps pounded into a powder before it could be made into bread. Certainly a poor article of diet, but better than no bread at all. There was mucli activity in the matter of building during the early winter. Cabins were constructed of shakes split from the pine trees that grew all about us. Charlie Clark paid my father twenty-five dollars per hundred for a sufficient number of these rude boards to build a house; and then ten dollars a day to help in its construction, which seemed to us better than the uncertainty of prospecting for gold. 97 1845) — TWU'K AC'l{()SS THE PLA1N8 1 TWICK ACI{()SS TIIK PLAINS lHr)'\ settled in tliis valley. In 1852 John Simpson made his home here. G. W. Thistle eame in 1857. So about all of the Government land was now taken np. The vears immediately follow- ing 1850 were busy ones with us. Viroin for- ests that h.ad never, sinee the world began. he:ird the sound of tlie axe had to he eleared away,, buildings erected and the ground put in con- dition for cultivation. Those who have never had any experience in such matters can hardly realize the enormous dihiculties to be overcome in founding a new home in a wilderness. The task of a new settler is a hard one, even when within easv reacli of stores and sawmills, but in a country where these bases of supplies are either entirely kicking or are so distant as to be almost out of the ([ues- tion. tlie ))roblein is doubly perplexing. But we managed it somehow, and within a few vears were well cstal)lishe(L In 185() my fathei' sent me to ^lissinii'i t'l briuu' the I'emaindei' of our familv to Galif(U'nia. 107 1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS ISolJ Fel)riiarv the 19th, I loft home bound for San Francisco, from which pUicc it was my in- tention to proceed to St. Louis, Mo., by way of Panama and Xew Orleans. My ticket, calling for a steerage passage, cost me one hundred dollars to the latter city. On February 20th I sailed for Panama on tlie shi]) "Sonora" and reached there in about twelve days, after an un- eventful voyage. The railroad that carried me across the isthmus to the Atlantic side was the first I had ever seen, but, having read much aljout them, it was about as my mind had pic- tured it. After crossing the isthmus I went on board a large vessel, named the "George Law/'- ])ound for Cuba, and reached the city of Havana in due time. From there the ship "(}ueen City" carried me to Xew Orleans in just twenty-two days from San Francisco. The journey from Xew Orleans to St. Louis was made on a steamer, the name of which T liave forgotten. We were nine days on the tri]). 108 1840 TWICE ACROSS TTTE PLATXS 185G wliic-li cost sixteen dollars. At St. Louis 1 took tlie train foi- St. Charles, a distance of twenty miles or so, and as far as the Xorth Missouri railroad was at that time completed. Stopping- over night in St. Charles. I purcliased the nexi morning a horse, saddle and hridle for one hun- dred and sixty ('ollars and rode the animal two hundred miles or more, to the home of my brother and sisters in Western Missouri, stopping on the way, liowevrr, at a point fifty miles west of St. Louis for a week's visit to my uncles Edward and Hoyal Pleasants. It was on the sixth day of April that I ar- rived at the hoiiu' of my brother and sisters, just fortv-seven days from the time I left my father's house in California. The trij) had. altogether, been a most enjoyable one. 'J'he only traveling I had ever done before was the crossing of the ])lains in '49, and soon after ri'aching California tlu'U I bad set- tled down and rcniaini'd amid the peaceful en- viromnents of our vallev home, livinu' a life ot 109 18J:9 TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAINS 1850 innocent freedom and content. Excessively fond of hunting, no one ever had finer opportunities than I of indulging in a favorite sport, so num- erous were grizzly bears, elk, antelope, deer and panthers, or California lions, as some call them. So this journey East was a new and interesting experience to me, especially that portion of it made by water. There were no storms or bad weather of any kind encountered, and after the first day out I was not bothered by seasickness. It was exceedingly pleasant to l)e again in the company of my relatives, after an absence of six years. After my visit to my uncle, Ed- ward Pleasants, was ended and I was taking leave of him he said : "William, be a man and remember you have to die." I have never for- gotten and never shall forget those words and liis impressive manner as he uttered them. After visiting with my Ijrother and sisters for a few days, during which I gave them a his- tory of all that had transpired since we had last met. T began making ])reparations for our 110 1841) TWK'E A('1!()SS THE PLAINS 185(l journey to California. A party intending to cross the plains was then being organized in the neighl)orhood. I at once joined the com- pany and began the purchase of an outfit. Here was a good opportunity to get rid of some of the geld that 1 had carried constantly on my person since the day I left California. While in San Francisco I had bought a buckskin money jacket that fitted my body next the skin snugly. This garment had in it numerous small pockets, and in these 1 carried all the money I possessed, a sum amounting to about fifteen hundred dollars in gold coin. For nearly two months I had worn it constantly. At first it did not inconvenience me much, but the longer it was worn the heavier it seemed to become and at last when it was discarded my skin bore for weeks afterward visible impressions of ten and twenty-dollar gold pieces. In fact, 1 was so impressed with gold money at that time that the impression of its usefulness has lingered with me ever since. It may seem strange to 111 1841) TWICE ACliOSS Till-: PLAINS — 185G the reader of these })ages that I slioiiUl carry this money so long in the inanner stated, l)ui: you must remember that in those days there were no l)anks, and as to leaving it with friends; well. I knew myself l)etter than I knew them and preferred to be my own treasurer. Within fifteen days 1 had secured for five persons, these being my three sisters, my brother and myself, the following outfit: Two sa(b1le horses, four choice milk cows, six yoko of good oxen and one wagon. Besides these there was a sufficient supply of clothing and enouiih provisions to last us six oreio-ht months, evervtliino- bouo'ht beino- substantial and useful. This outfit, in some particulars, differed from those of the others, inasmuch as T, profiting by my former experience, laid in more dried fruits and sugar and less bacon. ]\[any of the ohler nu'n thought that T, l)eing only a ])oy, was making a mistake. But these afterward realized that they were the ones who had been mistaken. By May the sixth, 1850, 112 1841) TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAINS 1850 we were ready to go. The start was to be mad'j from Bio- C^re^'k. a })oi]it on the open prairie in Johnson County, ^lissouri. Soon all had ar- rived at this spot. There were altogether eight wagons and al)out fifty men, women and chil- dren in the party. Two of the men, Messrs. William Hopper and David Burris, were old comrades of mine, they liaving 1)een members of tlie company that 1 crossed the plains with in -49. At tlie liour of starting friends and relatives liad gathered from far and near to hid ns good-by, and sncli sorrow and weeping I never witnessed l)efore. The scene was a touching one. The parting of these people, many of them never to meet again on earth, was affecting in the extreme. But the leave-taking was at last ended, wagons were lined up, the word to start give and I was again on my way to mv California home. We traveled about ten mile- that day, and, on camping for the night, we proceeded to elect a leader of the expedition. 113 1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185G and Mr. William Hopper was unanimously chosen as captain of the train. Xo other officers were deemed necessary. I was now at the zenith of my delight, heing headed for my heloved California home. There were now no special ties hinding me to the East. ^[y hrother and sisters heing with me, there re- mained in that section no memher of my imme- diate family; hence, unlike the others, it was with a light heart and joyful anticipations that I turned my face toward the West. My life on the Pacific Coast had well fitted me for the present journey. Healthy and strong and ex- ceedingly fond of the chase, I longed for th«} day to come when we would he among the buffaloes and antelope out on the great plains. But how different were the feedings of the others. They were leaving home and dear ones to face for months unknown hardships and dangers, and finally to dwell among strangers in a strange land. For a few days there wa^ much despondency and gloom among them, but 114 1849 TWICE ACROSS TlIK J'LAIXS — 1856 this gradually wore off amid the new and inter- esting scenes through whieli we were passing. We were soon across the Missouri line and in the wild country that afterwards l)ecame the State of Kansas. We crossed the Kaw or Kansas river a few miles west of where the town of Lawrence was afterwards located, our general course being northwest. All about us the prairie grass was al)undant, while the weather continued beauti- ful. Jt was in this portion of the country be- tween the ^Missouri line and the Big Blue riyer that three of our part}' got lost one night in a dense fog. It was customary for us to haye three men always on guard with the cattle at night, the first watch lasting from dark to mid- night. The second watch would then relieye the first and remain on duty until day. On the night in (piestion the fog had settled down so thickly that it was possible to see but a short distance away. The cattle, as was usual at night, had been rounded up in a small si)ace 115 1849 TWICE ACROSS TTTE PLAINS 185G al)out five or six luiiidrcd varcis from tlio wagons. Tlie second wateli relieved the first ac midnight, and in so (hdng sliowed tliem wliat direction to take in order to reach the wagons. The camp fires had gone out and, tlie people heing asleep, there was neitlier light nor noise to further direct the men to the right spot, and in the dense darkness they missed their way and were soon wandering here and there, totally lost. Their ahsence from the camp was not dis- covered until after daylight, when the second watch came off duty. Then measures were at once taken to find them. Guns were fired at intervals to apprise them of our whereahouts should they l)e in hearing distance, and finally Uncle Charlie Hopper jumped on liis mule and set out, at the risk of l)eing lost himself, to search for the missing ones. About five miles away he came across their trail in the dew on the grass and, following this, overtook them six or seven miles from camp. The names of these three uien wt're William 116 1849 TWICE ACTJOSS THE PLAINS ■ IST)!') Hopper, Ike Islev and John Saekett. Our train now averaged about twelve miles per day; and we were soon among the buffaloes and antelope, wliieh resulted in an alnmdanee of fresh meat for all. One morning on the hanks of the Little Blue river we had halted our train in order that the cattle might re^st and graze for a few hours when a party of about one hundred Indian warriors belonging to the Cheyenne tril)e rodc^ boldly into our cam]). But as luck would have it, over one-half of the men in the company were at the time ])reparing for a target shoot and, to the surprise of the savages, were ready, Avith their guns in their hands, for any emer- gency. As it turned out, however, not a shot was fired, ])ut no telling how the mee^ting might have ended had there not just at this time come in sight a large force of men convoying a Gov- ernment train. 'Jdie'se Indians were armed with guns and lances, and each also carried on his arm a shield. The heads or Idades of the lances 117 1S4J) TWICE ACROSS TilK PLAINS — 1- anv atten- tion to him. iMiially, riding into a cluster of willows, he tired into a group of our hoys, wounding two of them l)adly hut not fatally. The hulU't ])assed through William Hopper's thigh and then into Harvey Pleasants' groin, where it lodged and remained until his death, which occurred just twelve years afterward. The savage, seeing the success of his murder- ous work, immediately whirled his horse and rode away with the speed of the wind, and, al- th.ough one of our hoys tired at him, he escaped and rejoined his hand. Doctor Mathews' train was in camp down th.e valley one mile from ours. T^pon leaving us, the Indians mach^ a dash for his outfit, took him and his party l)y surprise, staiuj)eded and carried olf fifteen head of horses, which was all he had. and were soon out of range of any ordinary gun. But the Doctor had with him somelhino- that was rare in those 141 1849 TWICE AClfOSS TIIK PLAINS • — 185(1 days. This was a fine lono-range telescope rifle. Deeply iiu-eiised at tlie manner in wliich lie had been treated, he rested this weapon upon the wheel of a wagon, took careful aim, fired nnd killed one of the Indians at a distance of se\'- eral hundi-ed yards. The ])attle l)eing now over, the Doctor came np and dressed the Imi-ts of our wounded. But we were com])elled to stay where we wei'e until the boys were al)le to he moved, which was a week or ten days. The second night after the Indian attack two of our nu^n followed the di- rection taken by them and located their camp, which was in a small valley some fiftien or twenty miles north, so one hour after dai'k on the following night fifteen of us. well armed and mounted on our best horses and mules, set out with the intention of surprising them but they somehow learned of our approach, and, ex- tinguishing their fires, they came very near sur- prising us, for we tui-ned back just in time to avoid beino- riddled bv Indian l)ullets. Thev 142 ill % rt '1 ^ ^ % p^i^Hp. *4 t '-^-^i^^ii.^^^ .t ^*^.. .1 18i9 — TWICE ACK08S THE PLAINS • — 185() tried to decoy U8 back ])\ building big fires, l)ut we preferred to warm ourselves b_v blazer kindled in our own camp, and so we returned to our friends. Tliis wa^ proljably a marauding band of Ore- gon Indians fed l)y white men, maybe Mormons, tliat had been preying on the emigrant trains ail the season, as we afterwards lieard of their depredations both beliind and in front of us. However, we were never again molested by such foes. At Gravelly Ford, a point about one hundred miles l)elow where the Indian fight occurred, we were met by my father, who had come from Cali- fornia with several saddle and pack horses to meet and assist us in crossing the mountains and deserts, and right glad, too, were we to see him and the sleek fat animals he brought with him. It had taken him some six weeks to make the journey from our lumu' to this point and he had nuule the tri]) aloiu'. It was a daring ven- ture for a num in those (hi\s to travel a distance 145 1849 TWICE ACROSS TILE PLAINS ■ 1850 of iiioi'c than live Inindred miles without com- panions, crossing as he did tlie snowy ranges of the Sierra Xevada ^lountains, and the forty- five miles of a Ijarren, waterless desert. Tile hardships and privations that he endured and suffered during his lonely pilgrimage were a touching proof of the depth of his love for, and devotion to, his children, while the addition of the fresh horses so sorely needed to help lessen the burdens now l)()rne l)y our well-nigh worn out and exhausted stoek, was a great hh ssing to the whole coinpany and was much appre- ciated by all. A short distance from where my father met us the trail forks, one road turning to the north- west. This is the old Oregon trail, over which I traveled in 1849. Our course now was down the Humboldt to that desolate waste known as the Humboldt Sink. Into this great sandy basin flow the Huml)ol(lt, (-arson, Truckee, Walker and many smaller streams, all vanishing from the sight of man as their waters sink beneath the 146 1S4!) 'I'WICK ACKOSS TliK I'LAINS IST)!) sands. The desert in whieli this hasin is sitiiatrct l)egiiis alx'.iit one lunidred miles north ot the "Sink" and extends to the Moliave desert on the south, a distance of several luindred miles and is i'l'oni fifty to one hundred miles in width. At the mouth of the Hund)i)ldt there are several hun- dred acres covered with hulrushes and tuh» grasses, and here we found the lowest and most degraded type of human heings 1 have ever seen. Absolutely naked, they presented a most r^volt- iug appearance. I saw them eating the raw iiesli of ducks, their lips covered witli blood and down, and the scene was disgusting in the extreme. 1 (\a\ not learn to what tribe they belonged and it is doubtful if they knew themselves. At this point we laid l)y for a few days to resL the oxen and make preparations for crossing the forcy-five miles of barren waterless desert on the edge of which we were then camped. Witb. enough cooked food to last us two days, full wa- ter kogs, and wagons stored with cut grass ol' poor (piality, but bettei' than n(Uie. we started 149 LS41) TWICE AC'lJOS,^ THE PLAINS — IST)!') just at noon. Tlie sand was dci]) and loose and onr ])i'()n\ Eaton, Jr. ^Ir. Sinclair William Hcnsley Mid Story Emanuel ( Black ) John Kcarns 156 18J^9 TWICE ACK088 THE PLAINS 185(3 Mr. K earns David Rice \A'illiam Ma.v V *3 -^^ '^J.rS .^' ,0 \^^4^ •^ -a^ ^-.. LIBRARY OF COMCRESS ""''i':'M.iii/ll, Mil 003 385 525 4