After spending one day at Fort Bridger we set off early in the morning
with our faces turned toward California, and our hearts beating
furiously. For the first time since leaving home it seemed as if we
were really on the journey.
The trail ran up hill or down, all the way, but there was very little
difference, so far as hardships were concerned, from that which we had
already experienced.
During the first three or four days our fathers had no difficulty in
finding grass and water in plenty for the cattle, although there were
times, of course, when for mile after mile we passed through nothing
but sage grass, which even the oxen would not eat. Every night during
this time, we came upon a pleasant place in which to camp, and, best
of all, so Eben Jordan thought, the game was abundant everywhere. When
he had shot a small bear and brought it into camp, it seemed as if his
cup of happiness was full. One might have thought the lad had performed
some wondrous deed, from the way he strutted to and fro, repeating
marvelous accounts of his battle with the beast.