CHAPTER LIV.

GIVEN CHARGE OF A COMPANY TO CROSS THE PLAINS TO UTAH—COMPOSITION OF THE CAMP—START WEST—PERFORM BAPTISMS—MEET A WAR PARTY OF SIOUX INDIANS—PLACE WHERE A. W. BABBITT WAS KILLED—MEET MORE INDIANS—HOW TROUBLE WAS AVOIDED—CAMP LIFE AND DUTIES—ENTER SALT LAKE VALLEY—COMPANY GREETED BY THE CHURCH AUTHORITIES—REPORT TO PRESIDENT YOUNG AND AM RELEASED—TRADE AT CAMP FLOYD—EXPERIENCE WITH A THIEF—GO TO WORK ON THE OGDEN CANYON ROAD—HARDSHIPS ENDURED.

ON Sunday, June 12th, Elders Eldredge and Cannon visited the camp and held meeting, then organized the company, naming James S. Brown for president and captain, the selection being unanimously sustained. George L. Farrell was made sergeant of the guard, William Wright chaplain, and John Gordon secretary. A captain was appointed over each ten wagons, namely: first, Wm. Steel; second, W. Williams; third, Christopher Funk; fourth, Newbury; fifth, Kent; sixth, Giddens. These names were suggested by Messrs. Eldredge and Cannon, and were unanimously sustained by the company of three hundred and fifty-three souls. The outfit consisted of fifty-nine wagons and one hundred and four yoke of oxen, eleven horses, thirty-five cows, and forty-one head of young cattle that were driven loose. We had provisions for seventy-five days.

On June 13th, 1859, the company set out for Salt Lake City, Utah. There were nine different nationalities of people represented, namely; English, Irish, Scotch, Welsh, Danish, Swedish, Norwegians and Icelanders; we also had some Americans from the Eastern, Middle and Southern States, all mixed together. Many of them had never driven an ox one mile in their lives, and the result was almost like herding a train on the plains. If it had not been for G. L. Farrell, James Hickson, Samuel Garnet and Willis Brown, all excellent ox teamsters, besides some five or six others that were quite handy, we would doubtless have had most destructive stampedes. As it was, the company did not have any serious mishaps. In a few days the train became regulated and we had more system and order in travel. For the first five or six days of the journey the stock seemed in danger of being destroyed by flies and mosquitoes, and the people suffered much from the same cause. On the 18th we passed Captain Rowley with the handcart company.

On June 19th the camp stopped on the Loup Fork, a tributary of the Platte River. There was a small town there called Columbus. On the 20th the company moved up the river and camped on a small stream, Looking Glass Creek. That afternoon I baptized and rebaptized eighty souls, and other Elders confirmed them, while some men of the company bridged the stream. On the 21st we proceeded to Genoa Ferry, where we were joined by Captain Walding's company of thirty-seven souls and ten more wagons, thus increasing my company to three hundred and ninety persons and sixty-nine wagons, with cattle and other property in proportion. At that place we chartered the ferry boat from J. Johnston and did the work ourselves. We paid seventy-five cents a wagon, and it took fifteen hours' hard labor to cross. The stock all swam safely over, and the company camped on the west bank. The handcart company came up that night about 10 o'clock. On the 23rd our company proceeded up the river.

We met with a company of Sioux Indians on the 24th. These formed a line of battle across the road ahead of the company, and sent two men to meet us. I was traveling in advance of the company, and although I had never been among the Sioux Indians in my life for an hour, nor had I ever been where I had an opportunity to study their language, I had not the slightest difficulty in talking to them, or they to me. Consequently I learned at once that these Indians were on the war path, and were hunting the Omahas and Poncas. They were hungry and said they must have food from the company; so they were told to form a line parallel with the road, and to keep one-fourth of a mile back, so as not to stampede the train or frighten the women and children. They were allowed to send two men on foot to spread blankets where the company could put such food as we had to share.

Meanwhile I gave orders to the sergeant of the guard, G. L. Farrell, and the several captains to draw up in close order, have every teamster in his place, and all the women and children in the wagons, and for each man to have his gun where he could lay his hand on it without a moment's delay. Each family was to place some food on the blankets by the roadside. Not one team was to stop without orders. The wagons were to be corralled as quickly as possible, if they must be, at the first signal from the captain to do so; for the Indians appeared very warlike in their paint and feathers.

When the red men learned that it was a company of Mormons they had met, they readily complied with the captain's terms, and a number rode up and shook hands with him. As the company passed their lines of not more than one hundred and fifty warriors, there came fourteen buffalo in sight, quite close, and attention was turned to them so much that the Indians took what the company had placed on their blankets and we passed on without further interruption.

It was about this date that the teamsters had become acquainted with their teams and the latter acquainted with their drivers, so that things began to work more orderly than before. The camp was called together every evening for prayers, and for instructions for the next day.

About the 26th the company started across from the Loup Fork to Wood River. That night the stock took fright and gave some trouble before they were recovered; but the next morning the company resumed its journey, leaving Wood Birdno to pursue two valuable young fillies, one his own and the other belonging to Captain Brown. Mr. Birdno did not overtake the company till the fifth day.

One evening the company camped on a tributary of the Platte River, where Almon W. Babbitt was killed by the Sioux Indians some eighteen months or two years before. The company crossed the stream and camped just opposite where that terrible tragedy occurred, and just as the cattle were being unyoked the Sioux Indians flocked into camp, all well-armed warriors. I saw that it was quite possible that they meant mischief, as there were no Indian families in sight; so I called to the company to continue their camp duties as if nothing unusual had happened, but for every man to see to his firearms quietly and be ready to use them if an emergency should arise. Then I turned to the chief, and it being again given to me to talk and understand the Indians, I asked what their visit meant, if it was peace that they go with me to the middle of the corral of wagons and smoke the pipe of peace and have a friendly talk, as myself and people were Mormons and friends to the Indians, and that I wished them to be good friends to me and my people.

The chief readily responded, and called his peace council of smokers to the center of the corral, where they seated themselves in a circle. I took a seat to the right hand of the chief and then the smoking and talking commenced. The chief assured me that their visit was a friendly one, and to trade with the emigrants. I inquired of him why, if their visit meant peace, they all came so well armed. He answered that his people had just pitched camp a short distance back in the hills, and not knowing who we were had come down before laying down their arms.

By this time it seemed that there were about three Indians to one white person in the camp. I told the chief that it was getting too late to trade, my people were all busy in camp duties, and I was going to send our stock to where there was good feed for them. It was my custom, I said, to send armed men to watch over them, and the guards always had orders to shoot any wild beast that might disturb them, and if anybody were to come among the stock in the night, we thought them to be thieves and our enemies. If they attempted to drive off our stock, the guards had orders to shoot, and our camp guards also were ordered to shoot any thief that might come prowling around camp at night. I said that, as we did not desire to do the Indians any harm, we wished the chief and his men to go to their camp, as it was now too late to trade. But in the morning, when the sun shone on our wagon covers, not when it shone on the mountain tops in the west, but when it shone on our tents and wagon covers, they could leave their arms behind and come down with their robes, pelts and furs, and we would trade with them as friends; but he was not to allow any of his men to visit our camp or stock at night.

The chief said that was heap good talk, and ordered his people to return to their own camp. They promptly obeyed, to the great relief of the company, which had been very nervous, as scarcely one of them except myself had ever witnessed such a sight before.

Next morning, between daylight and sunrise, the Indians appeared on the brow of the hill northeast of camp. There seemed to be hundreds of them formed in a long line and making a very formidable array. Just as the sunlight shone on the tents and wagon covers they made a descent on us that sent a thrill through every heart in camp, until it was seen that they had left their weapons of war behind, and had brought only articles of trade. They came into the center of the corral, the people gathered with what they had to trade, and for a while a great bargaining was carried on. For once I had more than I could do in assisting them to understand each other, and see that there was no disturbance or wrong done in the great zeal of both parties.

The trading was over without any trouble, there was a hearty shaking of hands, and the company resumed its journey up the river, passing and being repassed by numerous companies moving west to Pike's Peak and to Utah, California, or Oregon. There were gold seekers, freighters, and a host of families of emigrants; and as the company advanced to the west we met many people going to the east. They were traveling all ways, with ox, horse and mule teams, as well as by pack trains of horses and mules; while some were floating down the Platte River in small row boats.

I have omitted many dates, but feel that I must say that some time in July we came up with Captain Horton Haight, who started two weeks ahead of us, with a Church train of seventy-five wagons of freight. Both trains passed Fort Laramie that same day. Mine camped seven miles above the fort on the river, where we laid over the next day, and had our wagons unloaded and thoroughly cleaned from the dust and dirt; then they were reloaded so as to balance their loading anew. All sick cattle were doctored, while the female portion of camp washed and did considerable baking. The next day we proceeded on to the Black Hills, in good spirits, the people generally well and encouraged. The road then began to be rough and gravelly, so that the cattle began to get sore-footed, and that changed the tone of feelings of some of the people.

We went on in peace over hills and dales to the Sweetwater, thence up that stream to what was called the last crossing, where we stopped one day, and again overhauled our load, doctored sick cattle, baked, etc. From there we crossed the summit of the great Rocky Mountains to Pacific Springs, so called because their waters flow down the Pacific slope. From that point we traveled over very sandy plains and saleratus deserts, to the Little Sandy, then to what was called the Big Sandy, and thence to Green River, the last hundred miles being the most soul-trying of the whole journey, owing to being sandy and poisonous to the stock. We traveled day and night, all that the cattle could endure, and in fact more than many of the people did endure without much complaint and fault-finding.

After a day's rest on the Green River, however, and being told that there was no more such country to cross, the train entered on the last one hundred and fifty miles of the journey, crossing over to Ham's Fork, then to Fort Bridger on Black's Fork, and on to the two Muddys and to Quaking Asp Ridge, the highest point crossed by the emigrant road. From there we went down into Echo Canyon, then to Weber River, crossed it and over the foothills to East Canyon Creek and to the foot of the Big Mountain, where we met Apostles John Taylor and F. D. Richards. A halt was called to listen to the hearty welcome and words of cheer from the Apostles. Then the company passed over the Big Mountain to the foot of the Little Mountain, where we camped. Many of the people were sick from eating chokecherries and wild berries found along the roadside.

Next day we proceeded to the top of Little Mountain. When I saw the last wagon on the summit, I left the sergeant, G. L. Farrell, in charge, and went ahead to report the approach of my company and their condition, as there were one hundred or more without food for their supper. I called first on General H. S. Eldredge, and took dinner with him. He received me very kindly, and accompanied me to President Brigham Young's office. The President welcomed us as cordially as a father could. After he had inquired and was told the condition of the company, he sent word to Bishop Edward Hunter to have the tithing yard cleared for the cattle, to have cooked food for all who needed it, and to have the company camp in union Square.

When steps had been taken to carry out these orders, I called at my father-in-law's in the Fourteenth Ward, where I learned that my family were well. Then I went back, met the company on the bench east of the city, and conducted it down to the square, where we found Bishop Hunter and a number of other Bishops and people of the several wards, with an abundance of cooked food for supper and breakfast for the whole company. Several of the Twelve Apostles were on the ground to bid the company a hearty welcome, and delivered short addresses of good cheer. This was August 29, 1859.

Next morning, the 30th, Orson Hyde, Orson Pratt, Wilford Woodruff, Ezra T. Benson, Charles C. Rich and Erastus Snow of the Twelve Apostles, Bishop Hunter and other prominent officers of the Church, came to the camp, called the people together, and again bade the Saints welcome to our mountain home. They advised the people where to go, and what to do to support themselves for the winter.

It was while yet on the union Square that Apostle Charles C. Rich told me that he and others had been called to take a mission to England, leaving home in the spring, and that they would like me to go with them; he thought I had better shape my affairs so that I would be ready for the call.

During the day the people found shelter and friends, and I reported to the Deseret News office and to President Young, who told me I was honorably released from any further responsibility for the company.

On our journey across the plains we had two deaths in the company, and five births, and had lost twenty-five head of cattle—a very small percentage compared with losses in general.

After the interview with President Young, I followed up my brother Willis, who had gone ahead with our team. We stopped that night at Charles C. Rich's, twelve miles north of Salt Lake City, and on September 1st reached my home in Ogden City, where we found all well and pleased to meet us again.

At Ogden many friends and relatives called to see us. In a day or two after our arrival, we went to cutting bulrushes along the slough on the bottom lands, with a scythe, that being the only chance for us to winter our stock. In a short time we purchased a wagon load of butter and eggs, and took it to Camp Floyd, forty miles southwest of Salt Lake City. We made a good profit on that load, then made a second trip and had stolen from us one of our mules worth one hundred and fifty dollars.

As we could not get a trace of the mule, Willis returned to the city to get another animal, so we could move our wagon. About 12 o'clock one night, while he was gone and I was sleeping alone in the wagon, the moon shining bright and clear, a thief cut the hind end of the wagon cover open, and drew out one of the quilts. As he was taking the second I awoke and caught him in the act. I asked what he was doing there, and was told it was none of my business, but to get out of his wagon, or he would send an officer after me. At the same time he put his hand on an old fashioned United States holster pistol that he had in his belt, then staggered off, feigning drunkenness. I saw that he went into a corner where he could not pass out, so I hastened and called the landlord, Mr. Kinney, a man about sixty years old, and told him what had happened. Said he, "If he went in there he cannot get through that way." He peeped into a dark corner, where the buildings were so close that a man could not squeeze through. "Here he is; come out, you thief," said he, and the midnight marauder made a break to pass. The old gentleman struck at him as he went by, and the next instant I had him by the throat. By that time the thief had got his pistol disengaged from his belt, but before he could turn it towards me I caught it from his grasp, threw him heavily on the ground, and held him there till Mr. Kinney brought an officer.

Meanwhile we were surrounded by half a dozen gamblers, one of whom said to the thief, "What are you doing down there, Rainbow?" A second ordered him to get up. They all seemed to know him, but all were strangers to me. I had passed the pistol to the old landlady, who brought it out, offered it to the officers, and told them she saw the thief try to shoot me when I snatched it and passed it to her. At that the thief swore the weapon was not his, but mine, and that I had drawn it to shoot him. Then the officers told me to keep the pistol, and they let the thief go to a saloon in a gambling house, where he treated the crowd, and told them that he had an engagement for a woman to meet him there that night, but he found a man instead, and that was all there was of it. At that the officers liberated him, and I concluded that I had got into a den of thieves, so disposed of my load and left for home as soon as I could. All the profit that we had made in the first trip was lost in the second, for we never recovered the mule.

The weather being cold, we threw up that business and took a contract amounting to two hundred and fifty dollars on the Ogden Canyon road, and in the bitter cold weather of winter worked till the job was completed. That work finished, we took another contract to get out timber for the first county jail in Weber County, and continued to work in the canyon until April 1st. The winter had been so long and severe that we sold part of our wearing apparel and bed clothes for hay to keep life in our animals.