CHAPTER Il.

Leavirig the oil regions for a good time ‘‘ out West.”—A period of travel,
etc., of four and a half months to the Missouri river.—Then crossing
the plains to Salt Lake with wagon train in sixty days.—Our train, —
My team.-—First camp in a storm.—Fording the Platte river wit’: its
quick-sand bottom.—Big teams.—My first drink.—Delusion in dis-
tance. —Game.—Freighting, ete.—Life and Government on the
plains.—A comprehensive account of the region from the Missouri
river to Salt Lake Valley.

OTHERS have said before that a dollar’s worth of pure
pleasure is worth more than a dollar’s worth of anything else
in the world—that working is not living, but only the means by
which we win a living; that money is good for nothing, exes)!
for what it brings of comfort and culture. Believing in this
philosophy, I next started out to live and to enjoy the pleasure
and culture I had won, devoting the ensuing four and a half
months to travel by rail, water and stage (tramping was not
much in vogue then), and in visiting relatives and others of my
acquaintance, who had settled “out West,” in Ohio, Illinois,
Michigan and Nebraska.

This was a season of enjoyment, unalloyed by cares, hard-
ships or perplexities of any kind, and to which my mind often
reverts, and always with the utmost pleasure and satisfaction.
Of the pleasant homes and happy families, of the genuine hos-
pitality, affection, friendship and good times I enjoyed on every
hand, I should like to dwell on. And also of the cities and
many places and objects of interest I saw to admire; but as
there was nothing rugged or strange blended in my experiences
here, I must thus pass them over, which brings me to the 20th
of June, 1866, when I found myself at Nebraska City in charge
of a four mule team and wagon, loaded with improved rifles,
and bound over the plains for Salt Lake City.

“Joy bounds through every thro) bing vein—
Dear world? where love and pleasu:e reign.”

None of the Pacific railroads had yet been built, but the
U. P. and Central was commenced that summer ; consequently
all the freight required to supply Denver, the Mines, Selt Lake,

(34)

pany

of travel,

1 crossing

y train.—
ay wit’: its
ion in dis-
t on the
e Missouri

of pure
hing else
mean? by
ng, except
ing in this
e pleasure
and a half
g was not
hers of my
10, Tilinois,

bares, hard-
mind often
Satisfaction.
snuine hos-
d on every
cities and
hive; but as
xperiences
to the 20th
y in charge
oved rifles,

ilt, but the
onsequently
5 ’ Selt Lake,

LIFE ON THE PILAINs. 35

the Military Posts and the whole region between the Missouri
yiver and the Pacific ocean and our northern line and Mexico,
with the slight exception of some river navigation near the
coast, was then transported in wagons by mule and ox teams.
For safety and convenience these travelled in companies or
trains of say twenty to forty wagons. An average ox team was
six yoke and that of mules run from four to fourteen animals.
I think the Government standard of six is the most practicable
team for teaming; most any one can handle and care for such a
team; a load can be gotten on one wagon without the risk of sid-
ling and soft roads, and the leaders of the team don’t need to
swing all over the country in making a few miles, as do large
teams and trail or high-loaded wagons.

Freighting on tie plains was an extensive and usually a
profitable industry, but the fortunes were mostly acquired by
ring favorites of Government officials, on account of Govern-
ment transportation, and they, usually, sub-letting to others
who did the work at half the cost to UncleSam. This western
region—marked on the old maps as the “Great American De-
sert,” or the “ Plains,” as the unsettled portions are called in
the west—in the days I speak of were much like the ocean in
many respects, and in this, that there were no courts and
lawyers to murder justice.

Everybody was expected to defend and protect himself and
his own, and consequently was always more or less prepared
and veady todo so, And it transpired that the results of this
sinple and taxless mode of Government (anarchy) as practised

a tho plains by the many thousands and mottled throngs
during those many vears—though not above all desirable —yet
that if +2. iar superior to that of any ring-ridden lawyer gang
infested community.

Bad Indians and just as bad white men would murder and
plunder to some extent, to be sure, but not to the extent one
would imagine, considering the isolation and the large and en-
ticing opportunities, and nothing in comparison to that com-
vr. itted in the states in the name of one thing or another,

This is true, notwithstanding the pretty true saying, that
“i\voeybody quarrels in crossing the plains.” But the com-
panonship is often close in travelling, camping and working

EPRI rer mcwssee

ane et ne

te

i

36 Out WEsT.

together, and the necessary hardships and aggravatious are
often trying, and test to the quick all of the traits of the
human disposition.

Be this as it may, nobody was imprisoned, but few ever
killed or hurt, and losses of property, or peace of mind, seldom
occurred there from trouble with each other; and it was such
an active life, too.

Plains’ people usually refrained from practising tricks and
confidence games in their dealings with one another, or even to
take the advantage of ignorance, or necessity, (because there
were no Ja vs “nd courts to protect them in such devilry), there-
fore they sc had or made any trouble, and when any did
occur, it was si ort and decisive, instead of a lingering, never-
ending agony of suspense, expense and often of unjust torture,
as is the result at rotten courts.

A New York business man with his family, desiring to
make a visit to Utah (his wife being a Mormon lady, strange
though it may seem) and to increase his wealth, bought twenty-
four new wagons, harness, etc., and over a hundred mules,
which were also mostly new, loaded up with his own goods
(general merchandise), and all for the Salt Lake City market.

I was to drive one of his teams through at twenty dollars
per month. Teamsters on the plains had usually been getting
from forty to eighty dollars per month, but now so many were
anxious to emigrate west to the mining regions, that hundreds
were willing to drive even big ox teams for their board and
passage—and they walked.

On a Sunday we drove the band of mules from their open
range - then but a few miles from Nebraska City—into town
and corralled them.

Outside of the towns especially, it was very unusual to ob-
serve the Sabbath anywhere west of the Missouri river, and we
church-going, praying puritans, who would shudder in holy
horror at such desecration at home, now took to the ways of the
country, and the theory that “the Sabbath was made for man,
and not man for the Sabbath.”

A part of our mules were unbroken and wild; in order to
mix them, the wagon-master or captain of the train—who by
the way got a hundred and fifty dollars per month—allowed us

ons are
of the

few ever
, seldom
ras such

icks and
r even to
ise there
y), there-
any did
1g, never-
t torture,

asiring to
y, strange
ht twenty-
ed mules,
ywn goods
market.
nty dollars
ren getting
any were
hundreds
oard and

their open
into town

bual to ob-
rer, and we
er in holy
ays of the
e for man,

n order to
—who by
allowed us

pe

LIFE ON THE PLAINS.

drivers to pick one pair for our team, when he would select
the other. I happened to get possession of perhaps the best
pair in the band; observing this, he said that “ he reckoned, he
could match them” (rather wnmatch), and this he did; I had
to lasso and choke them to a wagon wheel to be harnessed, and
throw them to be shod. In the first half mile they had the
end of the wagon well splintered, so to save the splinters I put
them on the lead, and, in trying to get back, they broke off the
tongue.

I had never driven four animals before, but thought, by
locating a few wagons behind the lead wagon in the train, I
could herd them along after the others in some way, though they
were wild; but they started me out on the lead, just as if I
knew anything about leading a heavily loaded wagon train.
Had on about 4000 pounds to the wagon, i ‘luding four or five
hundred pounds of corn for feed, which was very heavy loading
for the plains.

Got out a mile or two the first day and camped; took a
week to make the first ten miles. ‘There were two men to herd
the mules at night, and one to drive the extra stock ; there
were also two wagons belonging to the wagon master and his
brother, who were Mormons, and one of our drivers was a
Mormon preacher just returning from a foreign “mission.”

So there were about thirty of us, divided into four messes,
well provided with grub for the trip, also with tents, but we
seldom bothered to use them. Having bought blankets for
the trip only, as I supposed, but found that the average man was
expected to furnish his own bed most anywhere on the Pacific
coast, and that a hay mow or straw stack is considered first-
class lodging. I made my “bed” under my wagon, as it was
raining, and turned in with my clothes and boots on, as though
I had been used to camping all my life and liked it. It was
a pouring rain with thunder and forked lightning. When the
water ran into my “bed” I awoke, and took a stroil around camp
to see how others did, to get fun out of this sort of living ; this
was simple enough. Those who were drowned out had put up
a tent in the mud, and with “Fiddler Jim” were having a
concert.

After we got our corn fed up, we had room to sleep in the

KRY Maleate prumete
EERE nate ete memengte

ea i SBN nc

if
a
i

38 Ovr WEsT.
wagons ; however, it did not rain much more, nor is there any
dew on the plains. Only this simple lack of rain causes so
much desert and desolate country, and lack of soil and timber.

Some freight trains had been manned with drivers in their
necessity without any wages, and they had struck on the plains
and compelled the highest to be paid them, and there had been
other trouble, though justice prevailed. So now our proprietor
called us together to confirm our understanding and to sign
some sort of written agreement. Some were in favor of this,
others against it, and the rest did’nt care. The young black-
smith, however, settled the question; he was in favor of sign-
ing a contract, and a strong one, “for,” said he: “I signed one
once, the only one in my life, that I would stay with a black-
smith three years, and I stayed three months.”

‘Che wagon master said: “He would just as soon take the
boys’ words for it, as was usual with him, and did not apprehend
any trouble of any kind.” Then after the proprietor had in-
formed us as to the amount of work he could do, and the
number of wagons he himself could drive, if necessary—six, I
believe—the matter was dropped.

In the West there are many good men who are afraid te
put their names to any writing whatever, even to promises they
are able and intend to fulfill; they having learned that no one
could know what the meaning might be construed to be, and the
expense of the same, should it ever get into a court of justice(?).

There were 'a few improved farms at and for a few miles
beyond our first camp, which, I believe, was the last that we saw
till we got to Salt Creek, which was rudely settled. Now
Lincoln, the State Capital, and a railroad centre, is here.
Mosquitos were thick and as blood-thirsty as the members of
a “charitable” brotherhood, and this was about the last place we
were annoyed by insect pests during the trip.

The country from the Missouri River to this longitude is a
beautiful and rich rolling prairie, and is now about all in culti-
vation; but west of this, or say the 98th longitude to the coast
range, the rainfall is insufficient or too uncertain, to farm suc-
cessfully without irrigation (except in spots), and this is largely
impracticable, because of the lack of soil or its being inacces-
sible to water.

——<$—$—<—————

are aly
uses sO
timber.
in their
e plains
ad been
‘oprietor
to sign
of this,
ig black-
of sign-
ened oue

a black-

1 take the
pprehend
y had in-
9, and the
ry—six, I

afraid te
nises they
at no one
e, and the
justice(?).
few miles
hat we saw
ed. Now
e, is here.
embers of
Bt place we

gitude is a
lin culti-
» the coast

farm suc-
s is largely
1g inacces-

LIFE ON THE PLAINs.

We struck the Platte river forty miles east of Fort
Ker .ey, and then travelled up its sandy bottom about 240
miles to where at that time was Julesburgh—a dilapidated
military and stage station, 400 miles from the Missouri river.

There were a great many dead oxen lying along the road,
a great many Antelope were in sight, and owing to the rarefied
air, were apparently close by, but really so far, that with all the
shooting none were killed, and all we got was bought of the
Indians.

My first experience in the delusion of distance in a dry
atmosphere occurred one afternoon on the Platte river. We
having camped early, three of us thought we would walk out to
and climb some hills, apparently half a mile from camp, to
enjoy a better view; we travelled a mile or two, and as they did
not appear any nearer my chums turned back. I continued on
about as much further, and seeing but little difference yet,
gave it up, and in returning in the dark brought up at the
camp fires of another train, half a mile from our own.

At Julesburgh we forded the Platte; they called it half a
mile wide here; I would now have believed them had they said
it was three miles wide. The river bed is quick-sand, and there
appears to be about as much sand as water rolling along to add
to the country in the Gulf of Mexico. It is dangerous for a
wagon to get stuck in the river, as it would sink or settle in the
sandy bottom, and so would a mule; therefore our teams were
doubled up to twelve animals, and the wagon beds were raised
to keep the goods dry.

Here they started me out—-or in—with the first wagon
again. I declared that I could not get through with such a
team, but with another driver with me, and our Moses insisting,
that “I could as well as anybody, if I only thought so,” and by
him leading out until his mule floundered in the treacherous
sand, which is drifted in waves and heaps, we did come out
on the opposite side—about three-quarters of a mile the way
we took; but in returning, having no wagon to steady them, the
mules, chains, harness and doubletrees got in a tangled mess,
so it seemed that half of the team was down or off their feet
about all the time; had all I could do to hang on to the harness;
so we finally landed—the wheelers ahead—a quarter of a mile

Sia ay ee LT rt art
arate iam “ a rape aaa

earns

i a

ne a

4
i
.
i
fi
i

40 Our WEstT.

from the right landing place in the dark, as night had over-
taken us. I thought I deserved hanging, or else songs of glory,
but others considered it about the proper and usual perform-
ance of a tenderfoot—only a needed bath for man and mules,
The other teams got along better, being kept in the “track”
where it was somewhat packed and less miry, as I did after-
wards.

An ox train loaded with a quartz mill for Idaho was cross-
ing the same time we did. Hitched to one of the wagons,
loaded with a large boiler, were thirty-eight yoke of cattle — they
said forty-eight, but I am willing to knock off the difference as I
did not count them. The boss of the train would take no un-
necessary chances, and could afford to move slow, as he would
get twenty or perhaps thirty cents a pound freight. However,
it might have been a God-send to the outside stock holders
had the whole thing and business been sunk in the sand. As
to the large teams, the idea is, that a good portion of the
animals need not be pulling at all, can be entirely off their feet,
and there would be enough besides to pull them up and along,
and thus keep the wagon moving. Some of the drivers rode
the cattle while others were on horseback.

Here, on the north bank of the Platte, I took my first drink,
tasted liquor the first time in my life. Being taken with a
bad chill, they rolled me up in blankets by the camp fire, and
fed me on brandy from a tin cup; it, however, did not prove
fatal, as I have never taken a pint altogether since.

We now took up Poll Creek, and travelled the general
route since taken by the U. P. R. R, leaving the stage route
for a time, as it went around by Denver; arrived in Salt Lake
City in sixty days from the Missouri river— about twenty miles
a day, which was unusual fast time for a loaded train.

As to the country between the Platte and Salt Lake, we
saw a few moist, contracted bottoms, where wild hay was being
made to supply the overland stage stock ; there is a good deal
of bunch grass country besides, which, if the grass was cut,
would yield about seven hundred pounds of hay to the acre, or
less; so when occupied as a grazing country, as it has since
been, it could easily be over-stocked. There is much land
covered with sage brush, which indicates more soil and moist-

aan

1d over-
of glory,
yerform-
1 mules.

“track”
id after-

as cross-
» wagons,
tle — they
‘ence as I
<@ no un-
he would
However,
ik holders
sand. As
ion of the
‘ their feet,
and along,
rivers rode

first drink,
ken with a
p fire, and
not prove

he general
stage route
) Salt Lake
hwenty miles
in.
Mt Luake, we
y was being
p good deal
hss was cut,
the acre, or
it has since
much land
and moist-

LIFE ON THE PHAIns. 41

ure, and where it grows rank, and the ground can be irrigated.
Anything agreeable to the climate can be grown in profusion,
if not destroyed by grasshoppers or other insect pests.

There is timber on the mountain ranges and spurs, but
often so distant and scrubby, that it is said, in some localities
telegraph poles cost twenty dollars, or more, each.

Saw quite a number of wagon trains and of Indians; met
quite an emigration from California and Oregon to the states ;
saw some prairie dogs, wolves, jack-rabbits and sage-hens, and
heard of buffalo and other large game.

We took turns at cooking, while others brought the water
and fuel—which is generally buffalo or cattle “chips,” or sage
brush. A couple at a time relieved the regular herders, by
herding the mules mornings and evenings; and one at a time
guarded the train at night—though he often slept all the same,
so that one of the boys offered to take the whole job, declaring
“it did not tire him any.”

The same degre> of daring and low cunning necessary in
successfully stealing a single horse in the states, or in robbing
a store, a customer, or client, if displayed here on the plains by
a secret gang of a dozen men, could have captured our whole
train most any night, notwithstanding we were all armed with
rifles and revolvers. Moreover, the fact that train animals are
seldom molested, though feeding a mile or two from camp, and
perhaps 300 from even a military post, shows the Indians to be
more honest, or else more cowardly, than is generally repre-
sented,

Suppose the working masses in the states should rise in
their necessity and might, strip off their ill-gotten possessions,
and banish to the plains by themselves the “charitable” tribes
among them, who live chiefly by their wits, tricks and hidden
vices off of other men’s toil, with none to labor, earn »roduce
for them, or to watch and make them afraid; they thus being
compelled to work, steal, or starve, ond the country was their own!

Could a train, as inviting as ours, pass through their
country without tribute or plunder? Not much! And instead
of an occasional grave with a head-board rudely marked,“ killed
by Indians,” ete., whole grave yards would appear.

The trip to me was a novel and, on the whole, a pleasant

FRE stage a

id limemmanten es

2 he

PR ition ARERR gir peey

42 Our WEst.

one; an agreeable enough company: nobody striving for
trouble or imposition, never a fight, or even a hand on a pistol
for protection or for crime, and I disremember hearing the
captain or proprietor speak scarcely an angry or insolent word
—veertainly not to me. Our journey ended. Mr. White told
our Moses (Geo. Stringham) to ‘‘ take the boys to the best hotel
in town,” where he boarded us at three dollars a day, while un-
loading, ete., in a storehouse he had procured to dispose of his
goods; he having left us several days back to be here in ad-

vance. This was also his first experience in the West.

“AVL

0 ‘KLIQ IIV]T LIvg dO MATA

a pistol

ring the
nt word
hite told
est hotel
vhile un-
se of his
sye in ad-

b.