CHAPTER XV.

PREPARE TO LEAVE CALIFORNIA—SNOW IN THE MOUNTAIN—CAUSES A WAIT TILL THE LAST OF JUNE—DISCOVER A RICH GOLD PROSPECT—LEAVE IT TO MAKE THE JOURNEY OVER THE MOUNTAINS—NO REGRETS AT ABANDONING THE MINES IN ANSWER TO THE CALL OF DUTY—CAMP ORGANIZED IN PLEASANT VALLEY—START ON THE TRIP—THREE MEMBERS OF THE PARTY AHEAD, LOOKING OUT THE ROUTE, FOUND MURDERED MY INDIANS AT TRAGEDY SPRINGS—COVERING THE BODIES—STAMPEDE OF ANIMALS—GUARDING AGAINST HOSTILE INDIANS—CROSSING THE DIVIDE IN SNOW—THE WRITER FOOLED—TAKE TWO INDIANS PRISONERS—CUTTING A ROAD—HORSES STOLEN BY INDIANS—PURSUIT TO CAPTURE THEM—IN CARSON VALLEY—ALONG HUMBOLDT RIVER—AT STEAMBOAT SPRINGS—OVER THE DESERT—MEMBER OF THE PARTY WANTS TO KILL INDIANS—THE WRITER'S EMPHATIC OBJECTION—INDIANS WOUND STOCK—ADDISON PRATT AS A LUCKY FISHERMAN—WRITER TRADES WITH AN INDIAN—THE RED MAN'S TRICK—WRITER PURSUES HIM INTO THE INDIAN CAMP—ESCAPE FROM DANGER—JOURNEY TO BEAR RIVER—HOT AND COLD WATER SPRINGS—REACH BOX ELDER—VIEW THE GREAT SALT LAKE—ARRIVE AT OGDEN, WHERE CAPTAIN BROWN AND SOME SAINTS HAD SETTLED—JOURNEY TO THE MORMON CAMP ON WHAT IS NOW PIONEER SQUARE, SALT LAKE CITY—HEARTILY WELCOMED BY RELATIVES AND FRIENDS—REJOICING AND THANKSGIVING.

IN June, 1848, some thirty-seven members of the Mormon Battalion rendezvoused at a flat some six or eight miles from Coloma, California, near where the first gold discovery was made. This assemblage was preparatory to crossing the Sierra Nevada mountains at or near the head of the American River; for we had learned that it was next to impossible to take wagons at this time of the year by what was called the Truckee route, and as we had become accustomed to pioneer life it was thought we could find a better route, so it was proposed to open up one by the way stated. We had been successful in getting a few hundred dollars each from the mines, and had fitted ourselves out with wagons and ox teams, seeds and tools; for our protection on the journey we bought of Captain Sutter two brass Russian cannon, one a four pounder and the other a six-pounder.

Some of the company, eight or ten, had pitched camp at the site selected, and were waiting for others who were tardy in getting their outfit. Early in May, a party consisting of David Browett, Ira J. Willis, J. C. Sly, Israel Evans, Jacob M. Truman, Daniel Allen, Henderson Cox, Robert Pixton, and, I think, J. R. Allred, went out about two or three days ahead, and found the country covered with deep snow, so that at that time it was impracticable to go forward with the wagons; the party therefore returned to the main camp, and waited till the last of June. During this wait, David Browett, Daniel Allen and Henderson Cox, being anxious to be moving, started a second time to search out the route, and were surprised at night and all were killed by Digger Indians. They had been gone some eight or ten days before the main body got together, and about twenty days before we started. Alexander Stephens and I, it seems to me, and some two or three others, did not join the party, as I remember, until June 29.

The day before starting from the gold diggings on our journey was kind of an off-day, in which the writer had some spare time and wandered off from camp, with pick and shovel, up into a dry gulch, where he soon struck a very rich prospect of gold, about a quarter of a mile from water. This was about 11 o'clock a.m. By sundown he had carried the rich dirt down in his pantaloons, and washed out forty-nine dollars and fifty cents in gold; yet kind reader, strange as it may appear, he, with his partners, hitched up and rolled out the next morning, and joined the main camp at what we called Pleasant Valley, but now, I think, known as Dutch Flat. I have never seen that rich spot of earth since; nor do I regret it, for there always has been a higher object before me than gold. We had covenanted to move together under certain conditions, and those conditions existing we were in honor bound to move the next day. We did move, leaving that rich prospect without ever sticking a stake in the gulch, but abandoning it to those who might follow. Some may think we were blind to our own interests; but after more than forty years we look back without regrets, although we did see fortunes in the land, and had many inducements to stay. People said, "Here is gold on the bedrock, gold on the hills, gold in the rills, gold everywhere, gold to spend, gold to lend, gold for all that will delve, and soon you can make an independent fortune." We could realize all that. Still duty called, our honor was at stake, we had covenanted with each other, there was a principle involved; for with us it was God and His kingdom first. We had friends and relatives in the wilderness, yea, in an untried, desert land, and who knew their condition? We did not. So it was duty before pleasure, before wealth, and with this prompting we rolled out and joined our comrades in Pleasant Valley.

At our camp in Pleasant Valley we organized with Jonathan Holmes as president, and with captains of tens. Then there were chosen eight or nine vaqueros or herdsmen, to take charge of all the loose stock from 4 a.m. till 8 p.m.; but in the main the herdsmen were the chief pioneers for the camp. I remember only a few of them: W. Sidney, S. S. Willis, Israel Evans, Jacob M. Truman, Wesley Adair and James S. Brown.

The date of our start from Pleasant Valley I cannot now recall, further than that it was between the 25th of June and the 1st of July. We made slow progress, for the road was very rough. About six of us rode ahead, and looked out and marked the route. We would go ahead half the day, and then return to meet the train, often finding them camped, the men working the road, cutting the timber, rolling rock, and digging dugways, or mending wagons. Sometimes we had to lay over a day or two to make the road passable.

Thus we pushed forward on our journey till we came to a place we called Tragedy Springs, for near a beautiful spring at this place we found the remains of the three brethren who had preceded us, they having been murdered by Indians, and buried in a shallow grave. We first found bloody arrows, then stones with blood on them, then the nude bodies, partly uncovered; these were recognized by Daniel Allen's purse of gold near by. Our feelings cannot be described through the medium of the pen, therefore I must leave these to the reader's imagination. We built a wall of rough rock around the grave, then covered it with flat stones to protect the bodies from wild beasts. This was the best we could do, for the bodies were so decomposed that we could not do more. The names of the deceased and manner of death, with proper dates, were cut in a large tree that stood near by.

The night we came to Tragedy Springs was very dark, and our camp being in a dense forest of large trees, the darkness was intensified. Guards were at their posts around stock and camp, when suddenly, from some cause we never knew, the stock stampeded. This raised a great excitement, and before it subsided one of our cannon was discharged; as it belched forth its stream of fire, and the sound of the explosion echoed in forest and hills, the animals were stampeded still worse, only a few horses that had been securely tied remaining. We were compelled to lay by for two days to get things together, but we finally did so, recovering all our stock.

We made another start, going to a place we called Leek Springs, because of there being so many leeks growing wild. We had to stop over and mark our way among rocky ridges. Thence we moved on, musket in one hand, or in a handy place to the teamster, with his goad or whip in the other hand, the train moving in close order and constantly on the alert for an attack by man or beast.

We ascended a very high spur of the Sierra Nevada range, on the south side. When we reached the summit the wind blew as if it were the middle of November. As we crossed over we came to a large snowdrift; on the north side of the mountain our wagons rolled over the snow as if on marble pavement, but when we came to where the sun had shone in the latter part of the day, our wagons went down to the hub, and four were capsized and some of them badly broken. The others succeeded in reaching the bottom in safety. It took us till after dark to pick up the pieces and get them together to be ready to start the next morning.

We all gathered around the campfire and discussed the subject of standing guard, when the writer remarked that there was no need of guards—that he would agree to take care of all the Indians that would come around that night, for it was so cold and disagreeable that he supposed no human being would come there from choice. Just then someone inquired what an object on a rock was. Some said it was an owl, others that it was an Indian. Two or three of us took our guns and sallied forth to settle the dispute finding to our surprise two Indians with feathered headdresses on, and with long bows, and quivers full of arrows. They were within easy bowshot of us. The party had the laugh on the writer for once.

We took the Indians prisoners, disarmed them, and prepared a place for them to sleep, after giving them their supper. The writer was one called on to guard them, and he promptly complied. The Indians made good company, though they were very nervous, and we had to threaten them frequently to keep them from making a break for liberty. At midnight the guards were changed, and at dawn we made ready to descend to the camp below, arriving there just as the Indians moved off; we had released our prisoners. The Indians soon began to come in from every quarter, all armed. We moved in close order, every man well armed. The savages numbered three to our one; they flanked us and we could see them on every hand, in threatening attitude. In this situation we had to chop and roll logs out of the way, move rock, and make dugways, lifting at and holding wagons to keep them from turning over. Consequently, our progress was slow, and the journey very hazardous. Finally, when we had worked our way carefully along the difficult route, passing over the summit of the great Sierras, which divide the waters of the great deserts from those which flow to the Pacific Ocean, the threatening red men slunk out of sight, and we found a rough camping place, where we lay all night upon our arms, but nothing came to alarm us.

We continued down the canyon and came to a more open country, camping by a river bend where there was good feed, water, and fuel. We had begun to feel more safe from the red men, yet that night they stole in past our guards and took some of our saddle horses which were tied within four or five rods of our wagons. The Indians escaped, and were detected only by our guards hearing them cross the river; this was about 4 a.m. Early in the morning we learned more definitely our loss, and eight or ten of us gave pursuit, following the trail across a sandy country and over the foothills, ultimately succeeding in the recovery of all our horses but one, and for that we captured an Indian pony that had the distemper, as we discovered after it had been turned into our herd. That was one of the hardest day's rides that the writer remembers in all his experiences, for we put our horses through all they could live for. Every moment we were liable to ambush, for the Indians divided into three parties and we did the same. One of our party supposed he had killed an Indian, or certainly wounded him, just as he entered into the thick brush.

It was late the next day when we resumed our journey, and that night we camped in Carson Valley, where we looked on an extensive plain or desert. Being unable to discern any evidences of water, we turned to the north, just under the base of the mountains, traveling over a very hard route, until we came to the Truckee River, where we entered the old emigrant road. We followed that road till we came to the sink of the Humboldt, then called St. Mary's River. The distance was said to be forty-five miles; be that as it may, we were twenty-four hours covering it, and I do not think we had any rest or sleep during the whole trip.

We passed the wonderful Hot or Steamboat Springs. I remember seeing a dog run up to one of them as if to lap the water, and as he did so his feet slipped into the edge of the pool. He was so surprised at the heat that he gave one yelp of pain and jumped into the middle of the spring, stretched out his legs, and never gave another kick. In a very short time the hair was all scalded off him. The incident reminded me of the story of a Dutchman who, when he came to a hot spring, ordered his teamster to drive on, as hell could not be more than a mile away. We did not feel to blame the Dutchman, if the springs were like this; for, from the surroundings, hades did not appear to be far off, and we passed on without any desire to linger about the dreadful place. It was about 4 a.m. when, as we approached the Humboldt River, our horses and cattle hoisted their heads, began to sniff, and broke into a trot; from that they started into a run, and we had enough to do to keep up with them till they reached the water.

We had a short rest, and resumed our journey, for there was no food for our stock, and the water was brackish, so we traveled eight or ten miles and camped for the night. As the grazing was still short, we made a very early start, and were soon joined by two Indians, who remained with us all day and were very friendly. When we camped they stopped with us, and as we had been told the place was a dangerous one for Indians, the presence of these two caused a suspicion that they were spies, and probably would signal their fellows when to attack the train.

We had been in camp only a short time when a white horse was led in. The animal had a slight wound on his wethers and a mark of blood some six inches down on his shoulder. This wound had been caused by the horse rolling on some burned willow stumps, one of the men having seen him roll; and there were on the animal the black marks from the charred wood. Yet some of the camp insisted that the wounds were from Indian arrow's. At this time some one came up from the river and caused a flame of excitement by saying he had seen an Indian skulking in the brush, although he admitted that it might have been a bird or a wild animal, for, while he saw something move, he was not in a position to say just what it was. The discussion now waxed hot, and one man leveled his gun at one of the Indians, declaring he would shoot him. The writer was standing near by and caught the gun to prevent such an act, and was in turn threatened with being shot, when the trouble was stopped by others interfering.

That night, when the camp was called together as usual, for prayers and consultation, and prayers had been said, the same man who had threatened to shoot the Indian moved that we lay by the next day, hunt down all the Indians we could find, and by killing rid the country of the "d—d black rascals." This startling proposition seemed to stun the senses of the men for a moment, for no such spirit had invaded the camp before, our motto being peace on earth, good will to man. The proposition was so repugnant to the writer's feelings that he made his maiden speech in strongly opposing the motion, declaring that if such a cruel step were taken he would be a swift witness against all who engaged in the wicked and savage action; he also asserted that he would inform on them at the earliest opportunity, for as yet the Indians in that vicinity had done us no harm, and it was as much murder to kill one of them as to kill a white man. Others sided with the writer and the matter was dropped.

We passed on up the river until we came to near the narrows or canyon. There some of our stock was wounded by Indian arrows. I do not recall just how many were injured or died from their wounds. The Indians who did the damage kept out of our sight.

I must mention Elder Addison Pratt, who joined us at Sutter's Fort, as he was returning from a five years' mission to the Society Islands, in the South Pacific Ocean. He was a great fisherman, and it was along this part of the route that he used to catch the little speckled trout in such numbers as to attract both our admiration and our gratitude. He would go where no one else would ever think of finding fish, and would meet with wonderful success. In fact, some of the party were so astonished at his good luck that they declared he could catch fish in a cow track. He was a good, jolly soul, and made the best of everything.

Our train journeyed on in peace till we came to Goose Creek, where the writer traded a mare to an Indian, for a mule. The red man was given several articles for the difference. He sauntered around for a little while, then mounted the mule, and away he went, taking the articles with him. The writer pursued alone for four or five miles, and first thing he knew was too near the Indian camp to turn back, so he rushed in among them, dismounted, changed the mare for the mule, and rode off. The Indians looked surprised and frightened, and made no resistance. I never realized the hazard I had taken till the danger was over; then I was glad to rejoin my fellow-travelers.

We crossed Goose Creek Mountains and again struck out into the trackless desert, pioneering our own way, rolling the rocks and cutting the road. We reached the Malad, a very difficult stream to cross, but we succeeded in getting over without serious damage. From there our route lay to the Bear River, which we crossed in safety by blocking up our wagon boxes. I think the crossing was made just above where Bear River City is now located. From there we traveled southward under the base of the mountains to where we found two springs, one of hot water and the other of very cold water, within a very few feet of each other; they flowed in the same gulch or ravine. Along this route we had naught but an Indian trail to guide us. When we reached Box Elder we thought it the finest place we had seen since leaving Carson Valley.

While in California we had learned that the Latter-day Saints had settled near the south end of the Great Salt Lake; and as we had been in sight, from the mountains, of the north end of the lake for some days, we began to feel that we were nearing a place of rest. We journeyed on till we came to the Ogden and Weber rivers, where we found that Captain James Brown, of company C of the Mormon Battalion, and a few of the Saints had settled; the country looked very wild. We still pursued our way southward, till we reached the present site of Salt Lake City, entering the Sixth Ward Square—now Pioneer Square—where the Saints had built houses and a stockade. I think the date of our arrival at this place was the 28th of September, 1848.

We were heartily welcomed, by relatives and friends, after our long and tedious march of near four thousand miles, and our more than two years' absence from those we loved and who loved us. Our meeting and greeting were far more joyous and precious than the glittering gold we had left behind. Neither our friends nor ourselves had any regrets for our having left the gold fields when we remembered our marching away, over two years before, to the tune of "The Girl I Left Behind Me," for we were so very glad to find her again, no matter if it were in a desert. We all rejoiced, and gave thanks to God for His protecting care and our safe return to the bosom of friends.