About the first thing we did was to organize and select a captain, and,
very much against my wishes, I was chosen to this important position.
Six of us had guns of some sort, Richard Field, Dallas's cook, was not
armed at all. We had one regular axe and a large camp hatchet, which was
about the same as an axe, and several very small hatchets owned by the
men. All our worldly goods were piled up on the bank, and we were alone.
An examination of the old ferry boat showed it to be in pretty good
condition, the sand with which it had been filled keeping it very
perfectly. We found two oars in the sand under the boat, and looked up
some poles to assist us in navigation. Our cordage was rather scant but
the best we could get and all we could muster. The boat was about twelve
feet long and six or seven feet wide, not a very well proportioned
craft, but having the ability to carry a pretty good load. We swung it
up to the bank and loaded up our goods and then ourselves. It was not a
heavy load for the craft, and it looked as if we were taking the most
sensible way to get to the Pacific, and almost wondered that everybody
was so blind as not to see it as we did.
This party was composed of W.L. Manley, M.S. McMahon, Charles and Joseph
Hazelrig, Richard Field, Alfred Walton and John Rogers. We untied the
ropes, gave the boat a push and commenced to move down the river with
ease and comfort, feeling much happier than we would had we been going
toward Salt Lake with the prospect of wintering there.
At the mouth of Ham's Fork we passed a camp of Indians, but we kept
close to the opposite shore to avoid being boarded by them. They
beckoned very urgently for us to come ashore, but I acted as if I did
not understand them, and gave them the go-by.
As we were floating down the rapid stream it became more and more a
rapid, roaring river, and the bed contained many dangerous rocks that
were difficult to shun. Each of us had a setting-pole, and we ranged
ourselves along the sides of the boat and tried to keep ourselves clear
from the rocks and dangers. The water was not very deep and made such a
dashing noise as the current rushed among the rocks that one had to talk
pretty loud to be heard. As we were gliding along quite swiftly, I set
my pole on the bottom and gave the boat a sudden push to avoid a
boulder, when the pole stuck in the crevice between two rocks, and
instead of losing the pole by the sudden jerk I gave, I was the one who
was very suddenly yanked from the boat by the spring of the pole, and
landed in the middle of the river. I struck pretty squarely on my back,
and so got thoroughly wet, but swam for shore amid the shouts of the
boys, who waved their hats and hurrahed for the captain when they saw he
was not hurt. I told them that was nothing as we were on our way to
California by water any way, and such things must be expected.
The next day after this I went on shore and sighted a couple of
antelope, one of which I shot, which gave us good grub, and good
appetites we already had. As near as we could estimate we floated about
thirty miles a day, which beat the pace of tired oxen considerably. In
one place there was a fringe of thick willows along the bank, and a
little farther back a perpendicular bluff, while between the two was a
strip of fine green grass. As we were passing this we scared up a band
of elk in this grass meadow, and they all took a run down the river like
a band of horses. One of them turned up a small ravine with walls so
steep he could not get out, so we posted a guard at the entrance, and
three of us went up the cañon after him, and after the others had each
fired a shot, I fired the third and brought him down. This was about the
finest piece of Rocky Mountain beef that one could see. We took the
carcass on board and floated on again.
Thus far we had a very pleasant time, each taking his turn in working
the boat while the others rested or slept. About the fifth day when we
were floating along in very gently running water, I had lay down to take
a rest and a little sleep. The mountains here on both sides of the river
were not very steep, but ran gradually for a mile or so. While I was
sleeping the boat came around a small angle in the stream, and all at
once there seemed to be a higher, steeper range of mountains right
across the valley. The boys thought the river was coming to a rather
sudden end and hastily awoke me, and for the life of me I could not say
they were not right, for there was no way in sight for it to go to. I
remembered while looking over a map the military men had I found a place
named Brown's Hole, and I told the boys I guessed we were elected to go
on foot to California after all, for I did not propose to follow the
river down any sort of a hole into any mountain. We were floating
directly toward a perpendicular cliff, and I could not see any hole any
where, nor any other place where it could go. Just as we were within a
stone's throw of the cliff, the river turned sharply to the right and
went behind a high point of the mountain that seemed to stand squarely
on edge. This was really an immense crack or crevice, certainly 2000
feet deep and perhaps much more, and seemed much wider at the bottom
than it did at the top, 2000 feet or more above our heads. Each wall
seemed to lean in toward the water as it rose.
We were now for some time between two rocky walls between which the
river ran very rapidly, and we often had to get out and work our boat
over the rocks, sometimes lifting it off when it caught. Fortunately we
had a good tow line, and one would take this and follow along the edge
when it was so he could walk. The mountains seemed to get higher and
higher on both sides as we advanced, and in places we could see quite a
number of trees overhanging the river, and away up on the rocks we could
see the wild mountain sheep looking down at us. They were so high that
they seemed a mile away, and consequently safe enough. This was their
home, and they seemed very independent, as if they dared us fellows to
come and see them. There was an old cottonwood tree on bank with marks
of an axe on it, but this was all the sign we saw that any one had ever
been here before us. We got no game while passing through this deep
cañon and began to feel the need of some fresh provisions very sorely.
We passed many deep, dark cañons coming into the main stream, and at one
place, where the rock hung a little over the river and had a smooth
wall, I climbed up above the high water mark which we could clearly see,
and with a mixture of gunpowder and grease for paint, and a bit of cloth
tied to a stick for a brush, I painted in fair sized letters on the
rock, CAPT. W.L. MANLEY, U.S.A. We did not know whether we were within
the bounds of the United States or not, and we put on all the majesty we
could under the circumstances. I don't think the sun ever shone down to
the bottom of the cañon, for the sides were literally sky-high, for the
sky, and a very small portion of that was all we could see.
Just before night we came to a place where some huge rocks as large as
cabins had fallen down from the mountain, completely filling up the
river bed, and making it completely impassible for our boat. We unloaded
it and while the boys held the stern line, I took off my clothes and
pushed the boat out into the torrent which ran around the rocks, letting
them pay the line out slowly till it was just right. Then I sang out
to--"Let go"--and away it dashed. I grasped the bow line, and at the
first chance jumped overboard and got to shore, when I held the boat and
brought it in below the obstructions. There was some deep water below
the rocks; and we went into camp. While some loaded the boat, others
with a hook and line caught some good fish, which resembled mackerel.
While I was looking up toward the mountain top, and along down the rocky
wall, I saw a smooth place about fifty feet above where the great rocks
had broken out, and there, painted in large black letters, were the
words "ASHLEY, 1824." This was the first real evidence we had of the
presence of a white man in this wild place, and from this record it
seems that twenty-five years before some venturesome man had here
inscribed his name. I have since heard there were some persons in St.
Louis of this name, and of some circumstances which may link them with
this early traveler.
When we came to look around we found that another big rock blocked the
channel 300 yards below, and the water rushed around it with a terrible
swirl. So we unloaded the boat again and made the attempt to get around
it as we did the other rocks. We tried to get across the river but
failed. We now, all but one, got on the great rock with our poles, and
the one man was to ease the boat down with the rope as far as he could,
then let go and we would stop it with our poles and push it out into the
stream and let it go over, but the current was so strong that when the
boat struck the rock we could not stop it, and the gunwale next to us
rose, and the other went down, so that in a second the boat stood
edgewise in the water and the bottom tight against the big rock, and the
strong current pinned it there so tight that we could no more move it
than we could move the rock itself.
This seemed a very sudden ending to our voyage and there were some very
rapid thoughts as to whether we would not safer among the Mormons than
out in this wild country, afoot and alone. Our boat was surely lost
beyond hope, and something must be done. I saw two pine trees, about two
feet through, growing on a level place just below, and I said to them
that we must decide between going afoot and making some canoes out of
these pine trees. Canoes were decided on, and we never let the axes
rest, night or day till we had them completed. While my working shift
was off, I took an hour or two, for a little hunting, and on a low
divide partly grown over with small pines and juniper I found signs, old
and new, of many elk, and so concluded the country was well stocked with
noble game. The two canoes, when completed were about fifteen feet long
and two feet wide, and we lashed them together for greater security.
When we tried them we found they were too small to carry our load and
us, and we landed half a mile below, where there were two other pine
trees--white pine--about two feet through, and much taller than the ones
we had used. We set at work making a large canoe of these. I had to
direct the work for I was the only one who had ever done such work. We
worked night and day at these canoes, keeping a big fire at night and
changing off to keep the axes busy. This canoe we made twenty-five or
thirty feet long, and when completed they made me captain of it and into
it loaded the most valuable things, such as provisions, ammunition, and
cooking utensils. I had to take the lead for I was the only skillful
canoeist in the party. We agreed upon signals to give when danger was
seen, or game in sight, and leading off with my big canoe we set sail
again, and went flying down stream.
This rapid rate soon brought us out of the high mountains and into a
narrow valley when the stream became more moderate in its speed and we
floated along easily enough. In a little while after we struck this
slack water, as we were rounding a point, I saw on a sand bar in the
river, five or six elk, standing and looking at us with much curiosity.
I signaled for those behind to go to shore, while I did the same, and
two or three of us took our guns and went carefully down along the bank,
the thick brush hiding us from them, till we were in fair range, then
selecting our game we fired on them. A fine doe fell on the opposite
bank, and a magnificent buck which Rogers and I selected, went below and
crossed the river on our side. We followed him down along the bank which
was here a flat meadow with thick bunches of willows, and soon came
pretty near to Mr. Elk who started off on a high and lofty trot. As he
passed an opening in the bushes I put a ball through his head and he
fell. He was a monster. Rogers, who was a butcher, said it would weigh
five hundred or six hundred pounds. The horns were fully six feet long,
and by placing the horns on the ground, point downwards, one could walk
under the skull between them. We packed the meat to our canoes, and
staid up all night cutting the meat in strips and drying it, to reduce
bulk and preserve it, and it made the finest kind of food, fit for an
epicure.
Starting on again, the river lost more and more of of its rapidity as it
came out into a still wider valley, and became quite sluggish. We picked
red berries that grew on bushes that overhung the water. They were sour
and might have been high cranberries. One day I killed an otter, and
afterward hearing a wild goose on shore, I went for the game and killed
it on a small pond on which there were also some mallard duck. I killed
two of these. When I fired, the ones not killed did not fly away, but
rather swam toward me. I suppose they never before had seen a man or
heard the report of a gun. On the shore around the place I saw a small
bear track, but I did not have time to look for his bearship, and left,
with the game already killed, and passed on down through this beautiful
valley.
We saw one place where a large band of horses had crossed, and as the
men with them must have had a raft, we were pretty sure that the men in
charge of them were white men. Another day we passed the mouth of a
swollen stream which came in from the west side. The water was thick
with mud, and the fish, about a foot long, came to the top, with their
noses out of water. We tried to catch some, but could not hold them. One
night we camped on an island, and I took my gun and went over toward the
west side where I killed a deer. The boys hearing me shoot, came out,
guns in hand, thinking I might need help, and I was very glad of their
assistance. To make our flour go as far as possible we ate very freely
of meat, and having excellent appetites it disappeared very fast.
It took us two or three days to pass this beautiful valley, and then we
began to get into a rougher country again, the cañons deeper and the
water more tumultuous. McMahon and I had the lead always, in the big
canoe. The mountains seemed to change into bare rocks and get higher and
higher as we floated along. After the first day of this the river became
so full of boulders that many times the only way we could do was to
unload the canoes and haul them over, load up and go ahead, only to
repeat the same tactics in a very short time again. At one place where
the river was more than usually obstructed we found a deserted camp, a
skiff and some heavy cooking utensils, with a notice posted up on an
alder tree saying that they had found the river route impracticable, and
being satisfied that the river was so full of rocks and boulders that it
could not be safely navigated, they had abandoned the undertaking and
were about to start overland to make their way to Salt Lake. I took down
the names of the parties at the time in my diary, which has since been
burned, but have now forgotten them entirely. They were all strangers to
me. They had taken left such heavy articles as could not be carried on
foot. This notice rather disconcerted us, but we thought we had better
keep on and see for ourselves, so we did not follow them, but kept on
down the rocky river. We found generally more boulders than water, and
the down grade of the river bed was heavy.
Some alders and willows grew upon the bank and up quite high on the
mountains we could see a little timber. Some days we did not go more
than four or five miles, and that was serious work, loading and
unloading our canoes, and packing them over the boulders, with only
small streams of water curling around between them. We went barefoot
most of the time, for we were more than half of the time in the water
which roared and dashed so loud that we could hardly heard each other
speak. We kept getting more and more venturesome and skillful, and
managed to run some very dangerous rapids in safety.
On the high peaks above our heads we could see the Rocky Mountain sheep
looking defiantly at us from their mountain fastnesses, so far away they
looked no larger than jack rabbits. They were too far off to try to
shoot at, and we had no time to try to steal up any nearer for at the
rate we were making, food would be the one thing needful, for we were
consuming it very fast. Sometimes we could ride a little ways, and then
would come the rough-and-tumble with the rocks again.
One afternoon we came to a sudden turn in the river, more than a right
angle, and, just below, a fall of two feet or more. This I ran in
safety, as did the rest who followed and we cheered at our pluck and
skill. Just after this the river swung back the other way at a right
angle or more, and I quickly saw there was danger below and signaled
them to go on shore at once, and lead the canoes over the dangerous
rapids. I ran my own canoe near shore and got by the rapid safely,
waiting for the others to come also. They did not obey my signals but
thought to run the rapid the same as I did. The channel here was
straight for 200 yards, without a boulder in it, but the stream was so
swift that it caused great, rolling waves in the center, of a kind I
have never seen anywhere else. The boys were not skillful enough to
navigate this stream, and the suction drew them to the center where the
great waves rolled them over and over, bottom side up and every way. The
occupants of our canoe let go and swam to shore. Fields had always been
afraid of water and had worn a life preserver every day since we left
the wagons. He threw up his hands and splashed and kicked at a terrible
rate, for he could not swim, and at last made solid ground. One of the
canoes came down into the eddy below, where it lodged close to the
shore, bottom up. Alfred Walton in the other canoe could not swim, but
held on to the gunwale with a death grip, and it went on down through
the rapids. Sometimes we could see the man and sometimes not, and he and
the canoe took turns in disappearing. Walton had very black hair, and as
he clung fast to his canoe his black head looked like a crow on the end
of a log. Sometimes he would be under so long that we thought he must be
lost, when up he would come again still clinging manfully.
McMahon and I threw everything out of the big canoe and pushed out after
him. I told Mc. to kneel down so I could see over him to keep the craft
off the rocks, and by changing his paddle from side to side as ordered,
he enabled me to make quick moves and avoid being dashed to pieces. We
fairly flew, the boys said, but I stood up in the stern and kept it
clear of danger till we ran into a clear piece of river and overtook
Walton clinging to the overturned boat; McMahon seized the boat and I
paddled all to shore, but Walton was nearly dead and could hardly keep
his grasp on the canoe. We took him to a sandy place and worked over him
and warmed him in the sun till he came to life again, then built a fire
and laid him up near to it to get dry and warm. If the canoe had gone on
20 yards farther with him before we caught it, he would have gone into
another long rapid and been drowned. We left Walton by the fire and
crossing the river in the slack water, went up to where the other boys
were standing, wet and sorry-looking, say-that all was gone and lost.
Rogers put his hand in his pocket and pulled out three half dollars and
said sadly:--"Boys, this is all I am worth in the world." All the
clothes he had were a pair of overalls and a shirt. If he had been
possessed of a thousand in gold he would have been no richer, for there
was no one to buy from and nothing to buy. I said to them: "Boys, we
can't help what has happened, we'll do the best we can. Right your
canoe, get the water out, and we'll go down and see how Walton is." They
did as I told them, and lo and behold when the canoe rolled right side
up, there were their clothes and blankets safe and sound. These light
things had floated in the canoe and were safe. We now tried by joining
hands to reach out far enough to recover some of the guns, but by
feeling with their feet they found the bottom smooth as glass and the
property all swept on below, no one knew where. The current was so
powerful that no one could stand in it where it came up above his knees.
The eddy which enabled us to save the first canoe with the bedding and
clothes was caused by a great boulder as large as a house which had
fallen from above and partly blocked the stream. Everything that would
sink was lost.
We all got into the two canoes and went down to Walton, where we camped
and staid all night for Walton's benefit. While we were waiting I took
my gun and tried to climb up high enough to see how much longer this
horrible cañon was going to last, but after many attempts, I could not
get high enough to see in any direction. The mountain was all bare rocks
in terraces, but it was impossible to climb from one to the other, and
the benches were all filled with broken rocks that had fallen from
above.
By the time I got back to camp, Walton was dry and warm and could talk.
He said he felt better, and pretty good over his rescue. When he was
going under the water, it seemed sometimes as if he never would come to
the top again, but he held on and eventually came out all right. He
never knew how he got to shore, he was so nearly dead when rescued.
The next morning Walton was so well we started on. We were now very
poorly armed. My rifle and McMahon's shotgun were all the arms we had
for seven of us, and we could make but a poor defence if attacked by man
or beast, to say nothing of providing ourselves with food. The mountains
on each side were very bare of timber, those on the east side
particularly so, and very high and barren. Toward night we were floating
along in a piece of slack water, the river below made a short turn
around a high and rocky point almost perpendicular from the water. There
was a terrace along the side of this point about fifty feet up, and the
bench grew narrower as it approached the river. As I was coming down
quite close under this bank I saw three mountain sheep on the bench
above, and, motioning to the boys, I ran on shore and, with my gun in
hand, crept down toward them, keeping a small pine tree between myself
and the sheep. There were some cedar bushes on the point, and the pines
grew about half way up the bank. I got in as good a range as possible
and fired at one of them which staggered around and fell down to the
bottom of the cliff. I loaded and took the next largest one which came
down the same way. The third one tried to escape by going down the bend
and then creeping up a crevice, but it could not get away and turned
back, cautiously, which gave me time to load again and put a ball
through it. I hit it a little too far back for instant death, but I
followed it up and found it down and helpless, and soon secured it. I
hauled this one down the mountain, and the other boys had the two others
secure by this time. McMahon was so elated at my success that he said:
"Manley, if I could shoot as you do I would never want any better
business." And the other fellows said they guessed we were having better
luck with one gun than with six, so we had a merry time after all. These
animals were of a bluish color, with hair much finer than deer, and
resembled a goat more than a sheep. These three were all females and
their horns were quite straight, not curved like the big males. We cut
the meat from the bones and broke them up, making a fine soup which
tasted pretty good. They were in pretty good order, and the meat like
very good mutton.
We kept pushing on down the river. The rapids were still dangerous in
many places, but not so frequent nor so bad as the part we had gone
over, and we could see that the river gradually grew smoother as we
progressed.
After a day or two we began to get out of the cañons, but the mountains
and hills on each side were barren and of a pale yellow caste, with no
chance for us to climb up and take a look to see if there were any
chances for us further along. We had now been obliged to follow the
cañon for many miles, for the only way to get out was to get out
endwise, climbing the banks being utterly out of the question. But these
mountains soon came to an end, and there was some cottonwood and willows
on the bank of the river, which was now so smooth we could ride along
without the continual loading and unloading we had been forced to
practice for so long. We had begun to get a little desperate at the lack
of game, but the new valley, which grew wider all the time, gave us hope
again, if it was quite barren everywhere except back of the willow
trees.
We were floating along very silently one day, for none of us felt very
much in the mood for talking, when we heard a distant sound which we
thought was very much like the firing of a gun. We kept still, and in a
short time a similar sound was heard, plainer and evidently some ways
down the stream. Again and again we heard it, and decided that it must
be a gun shot, and yet we were puzzled to know how it could be. We were
pretty sure there were no white people ahead of us, and we did not
suppose the Indians in this far-off land had any firearms. It might be
barely possible that we were coming now to some wagon train taking a
southern course, for we had never heard that there were any settlements
in this direction and the barren country would preclude any such thing,
as we viewed it now. If it was a hostile band we could not do much with
a rifle and a shot gun toward defending ourselves or taking the
aggressive. Some of the boys spoke of our scalps ornamenting a spear
handle, and indulged in such like cheerful talk which comforted us
wonderfully.
Finally we concluded we did not come out into that wild country to be
afraid of a few gunshots, and determined to put on a bold front, fight
if we had to, run away if we could not do any better, and take our
chances on getting scalped or roasted. Just then we came in sight of
three Indian lodges just a little back from the river, and now we knew
for certain who had the guns. McMahon and I were in the lead as usual,
and it was only a moment before one of the Indians appeared, gun in
hand, and made motions for us to come on shore. A cottonwood tree lay
nearly across the river, and I had gone so far that I had to go around
it and land below, but the other boys behind were afraid to do otherwise
than to land right there as the Indian kept his gun lying across his
arm. I ran our canoe below to a patch of willows, where we landed and
crawled through the brush till we came in sight of the other boys, where
we stood and waited a moment to see how they fared, and whether our red
men were friends or enemies. There were no suspicious movements on their
part, so we came out and walked right up to them. There was some little
talk, but I am sure we did not understand one another's language, and so
we made motions and they made motions, and we got along better. We went
with them down to the tepee, and there we heard the first word that was
at all like English and that was "Mormonee," with a sort of questioning
tone. Pretty soon one said "Buffalo," and then we concluded they were on
a big hunt of some sort. They took us into their lodges and showed us
blankets, knives, and guns, and then, with a suggestive motion, said all
was "Mormonee," by which we understood they had got them from the
Mormons. The Indian in the back part of the lodge looked very pleasant
and his countenance showed a good deal of intelligence for a man of the
mountains. I now told the boys that we were in a position where we were
dependent on some one, and that I had seen enough to convince me that
these Indians were perfectly friendly with the Mormons, and that for our
own benefit we had better pass ourselves off for Mormons, also. So we
put our right hand to our breast and said "Mormonee," with a cheerful
countenance, and that act conveyed to them the belief that we were
chosen disciples of the great and only Brigham and we became friends at
once, as all acknowledged. The fine-looking Indian who sat as king in
the lodge now, by motions and a word or two, made himself known as Chief
Walker, and when I knew this I took great pains to cultivate his
acquaintance.
I was quite familiar with the sign language used by all the Indians, and
found I could get along pretty well in making him understand and knowing
what he said. I asked him first how many "sleeps" or days it was from
there to "Mormonee." In answer he put out his left hand and then put two
fingers of his right astride of it, making both go up and down with the
same motion of a man riding a horse. Then he shut his eyes and laid his
head on his hand three times, by which I understood that a man could
ride to the Mormon settlement in three sleeps or four days. He then
wanted to know where we were going, and I made signs that we were
wishing to go toward the setting sun and to the big water, and I said
"California." The country off to the west of us now seemed an open,
barren plain, which grew wider as it extended west. The mountains on the
north side seemed to get lower and smaller as they extended west, but on
the south or east side they were all high and rough. It seemed as if we
could see one hundred miles down the river, and up to the time we met
the Indians we thought we had got through all our troublesome navigation
and could now sail on, quietly and safely to the great Pacific Ocean and
land of gold.
When I told Chief Walker this he seemed very much astonished, as if
wondering why we were going down the river when we wanted to get west
across the country. I asked him how many sleeps it was to the big water,
and he shook his head, pointed out across the country and then to the
river and shook his head again; by which I understood that water was
scarce, out the way he pointed. He then led me down to a smooth sand bar
on the river and then, with a crooked stick, began to make a map in the
sand. First he made a long crooked mark, ten feet long or so, and
pointing to the river to let me know that the mark in the sand was made
to represent it. He then made a straight mark across near the north end
of the stream, and showed the other streams which came into the Green
river which I saw at once was exactly correct. Then he laid some small
stones on each side of the cross mark, and making a small hoop of a
willow twig, he rolled it in the mark he had made across the river, then
flourished his stick as if he were driving oxen. Thus he represented the
emigrant road. He traced the branches off to the north where the
soldiers had gone, and the road to California, which the emigrants took,
all of which we could see was correct. Then he began to describe the
river down which we had come. A short distance below the road he put
some small stones on each side of the river to represent mountains. He
then put down his hands, one on each side of the crooked mark and then
raised them up again saying e-e-e-e-e-e as he raised them, to say that
the mountains there were very high. Then he traced down the stream to a
place below where we made our canoes; when he placed the stone back from
the river farther, to show that there was a valley there; then he drew
them in close again farther down, and piled them up again two or three
tiers high, then placing both fists on them he raised them higher than
the top of his head, saying e-e-e-e-e-e and looking still higher and
shaking his head as if to say:--"Awful bad cañon", and thus he went on
describing the river till we understood that we were near the place
where we now were, and then pointed to his tepee, showing that I
understood him all right. It was all correct, as I very well knew and
assured me that he knew all about the country.
I became much interested in my new found friend, and had him continue
his map down the river. He showed two streams coming in on the east side
and then he began piling up stones on each side of the river and then
got longer ones and piled them higher and higher yet. Then he stood with
one foot on each side of his river and put his hands on the stones and
then raised them as high as he could, making a continued e-e-e-e-e-e as
long as his breath would last, pointed to the canoe and made signs with
his hands how it would roll and pitch in the rapids and finely capsize
and throw us all out. He then made signs of death to show us that it was
a fatal place. I understood perfectly plain from this that below the
valley where we now were was a terrible cañon, much higher than any we
had passed, and the rapids were not navigable with safety. Then Walker
shook his head more than once and looked very sober, and said "Indiano"
and reaching for his bow and arrows, he drew the bow back to its utmost
length and put the arrow close to my breast, showing how I would get
shot. Then he would draw his hand across his throat and shut his eyes as
if in death to make us understand that this was a hostile country before
us, as well as rough and dangerous.
I now had a description of the country ahead and believed it to be
reliable. As soon as I could conveniently after this, I had a council
with the boys, who had looked on in silence while I was holding the
silent confab with the chief. I told them where we were and what chances
there were of getting to California by this route, and that for my part
I had as soon be killed by Mormans as by savage Indians, and that I
believed the best way for us to do was to make the best of our way to
Salt Lake. "Now" I said, "Those of you who agree with me can follow--and
I hope all will."
McMahon said that we could not understand a word the old Indian said,
and as to following his trails, I don't believe a word of it, and it
don't seem right.
He said he had a map of the country, and it looked just as safe to him
to go on down the river as to go wandering across a dry and desolate
country which we knew nothing of. I said to McMahon--"I know this sign
language pretty well. It is used by almost all the Indians and is just
as plain and certain to me as my talk is to you. Chief Walker and his
forefathers were borne here and know the country as well as you know
your father's farm, and for my part, I think I shall take one of his
trails and go to Salt Lake and take the chances that way. I have no
objections to you going some other way if you wish to and think it is
best". McMahon and Fields concluded they would not follow me any
farther.
I then went to Chief Walker and had him point out the trail to
"Mormonie" as well as he could. He told me where to enter the mountains
leading north, and when we got part way he told me we would come to an
Indian camp, when I must follow some horse tracks newly made; he made me
know this by using his hands like horse's forefeet, and pointed the way.
Some of the young men motioned for me to come out and shoot at a mark
with them, and as I saw it would please them I did so and took good care
to beat them every time too. Then they wanted to swap (narawaup) guns
with me which I declined doing. After this the Chief came to me and
wanted me to go and hunt buffalo with them. I told him I had no horse,
and then he went and had a nice gray one brought up and told me I could
ride him if I would go. He took his bow and arrow and showed me how he
could shoot an arrow straight through a buffalo just back of his short
ribs and that the arrow would go clear through and come out on the other
side without touching a bone. Those fellows were in fine spirit, on a
big hunt, and when Walker pointed out his route to me he swung his hand
around to Salt Lake.
They all spoke the word buffalo quite plainly. I took his strong bow and
found I could hardly pull it half way out, but I have no doubt he could
do as he said he could. I hardly knew how to refuse going with him. I
asked him how long it would be before he would get around his long
circuit and get to Salt Lake, to which he replied by pulverizing some
leaves in his hands and scattering them in the air to represent snow,
which would fall by the time he got to "Mormonee". I shivered as he said
this and by his actions I saw that I understood him right.
I told him I could not go with him for the other boys would depend on me
to get them something to eat, and I put my finger into my open mouth to
tell him this. I think if I had been alone I should have accepted his
offer and should have had a good time. I gave them to understand that we
would swap (narawaup) with them for some horses so he brought up a pair
of nice two year-old colts for us. I offered him some money for them, he
did not want that, but would take clothing of almost any kind. We let
them have some that we could get along without, and some one let Walker
have a coat. He put it on, and being more warmly dressed than ever
before, the sweat ran down his face in streams. We let them have some
needles and thread and some odd notions we had to spare. We saw that
Walker had some three or four head of cattle with him which he could
kill if they did not secure game at the time they expected.
McMahon and Field still persisted they would not go with us and so we
divided our little stock of flour and dried meat with them as fairly as
possible and decided we would try the trail. When our plans were settled
we felt in pretty good spirits again, and one of the boys got up a sort
of corn-stalk fiddle which made a squeaking noise and in a little while
there was a sort of mixed American and Indian dance going on in which
the squaws joined in and we had a pretty jolly time till quite late at
night. We were well pleased that these wild folks had proved themselves
to be true friends to us.
The morning we were to start I told the boys a dream I had in which I
had seen that the course we had decided on was the correct one, but
McMahon and Field thought we were foolish and said they had rather take
the chances of going with the Indians, or going on down the river. He
seemed to place great stress on the fact that he could not understand
the Indians.
Said he:--"This Indian may be all right, and maybe he will lead us all
into a dreadful trap. They are treacherous and revengeful, and for some
merely fancied wrong done by us, or by some one else of whom we have no
control or knowledge, they may take our scalps, wipe us out of existence
and no one will ever know what became of us. Now this map of mine don't
show any bad places on this river, and I believe we can get down easily
enough, and get to California some time. Field and I cannot make up our
minds so easily as you fellows. I believe your chances are very poor."
The boys now had our few things loaded on the two colts, for they had
fully decided to go with me, and I was not in the least put back by
McMahon's dire forebodings. We shook hands with quivering lips as we each
hoped the other would meet good luck, and find enough to eat and all
such sort of friendly talk, and then with my little party on the one
side and McMahon and Field, whom we were to leave behind, on the other,
we bowed to each other with bared heads, and then we started out of the
little young cottonwoods into the broad plain that seemed to get wider
and wider as we went west.
The mountains on the northern side grew smaller and less steep as we
went west, and on the other hand reached down the river as far as we
could see. The plain itself was black and barren and for a hundred miles
at least ahead of us it seemed to have no end. Walker had explained to
us that we must follow some horse tracks and enter a cañon some miles to
the northwest. He had made his hands work like horses' feet, placing
then near the ground as if following a trail, We were not much more than
a mile away when on looking back, we saw Chief Walker coming towards us
on a horse at full speed; and motioning for us to stop. This we did,
though some of the boys said we would surely be marched back and
scalped. But it was not for that he came. He had been watching us and
saw that we had failed to notice the tracks of the horses he told us
about so he rode after us, and now took us off some little distance to
the right, got off his horse and showed us the faint horse tracks which
we were to follow and said "Mormonie". He pointed out to us the exact
cañon we were to enter when we reached the hills; and said after three
"sleeps" we would find an Indian camp on top of the mountain. He then
bade us good bye again and galloped back to his own camp.
We now resumed our journey, keeping watch of the tracks more closely,
and as we came near the spurs of the mountain which projected out into
the barren valley we crossed several well marked trails running along
the foot hills, at right angles to our own. This we afterwards learned
was the regular trail from Santa Fé to Los Angeles. At some big rocks
further on we camped for the night, and found water in some pools or
holes in the flat rocks which held the rain.
Reading people of to-day, who know so well the geography of the American
continent, may need to stop and think that in 1849 the whole region west
of the Missouri River was very little known, the only men venturesome
enough to dare to travel over it were hunters and trappers who, by a
wild life had been used to all the privations of such a journey, and
shrewd as the Indians themselves in the mysterious ways of the trail and
the chase. Even these fellows had only investigated certain portions
best suited to their purpose.
The Indians here have the reputation of being blood thirsty savages who
took delight in murder and torture, but here, in the very midst of this
wild and desolate country we found a Chief and his tribe, Walker and his
followers who were as humane and kind to white people as could be
expected of any one. I have often wondered at the knowledge of this man
respecting the country, of which he was able to make us a good map in
the sand, point out to us the impassable cañon, locate the hostile
indians, and many points which were not accurately known by our own
explorers for many years afterward. He undoubtedly saved our little band
from a watery grave, for without his advice we had gone on and on, far
into the great Colorado cañon, from which escape would have been
impossible and securing food another impossibility, while destruction by
hostile indians was among the strong probabilities of the case. So in a
threefold way I have for these more than forty years credited the lives
of myself and comrades to the thoughtful interest and humane
consideration of old Chief Walker.
In another pool or pond near the one where we were camped I shot a small
duck. Big sage was plenty here for fuel and we had duck for supper. Our
party consisted of five men and two small ponies only two years old,
with a stock of provisions very small including that the old chief had
given us. We started on in the morning, following our faint trail till
we came to the cañon we had in view, and up this we turned as we had
been directed, finding in the bottom a little running stream. Timber
began to appear as we ascended, and grass also. There were signs of deer
and grouse but we had no time to stop to hunt, for I had the only gun
and while I hunted the others must lie idly by. We reached the summit at
a low pass, and just above, on the north side of the higher mountains
were considerable banks of snow. Following the Chief's instructions we
left the trail and followed some horse tracks over rolling hills, high
on the mountain side. We found the Indian camp exactly as the Chief had
described, consisting of two or three lodges. The men were all absent
hunting, but the women were gathering and baking some sort of a root
which looked like a carrot. They made a pile of several bushels and
covered it with earth, then made a fire, treating the pile some as a
charcoal burner does his pit of coal. When sufficiently cooked they beat
them up and made the material into small cakes which were dried in the
sun. The dried cakes were as black as coal and intended for winter use.
These roots before roasting were unfit for food, as they contained a
sort of acrid juice that would make the tongue smart and very sore but
there was a very good rich taste when cooked. The woman pointed to our
horses and said "Walker", so we knew they were aware that we got them of
him, and might have taken us for horse thieves for aught I know. As it
was not yet night when we came to the camp, we passed on and camped on a
clear mountain brook where grew some pine trees. After a little some of
the Indians belonging to the camp we had passed came in, bringing some
venison, for which we traded by giving them some needles and a few other
trinkets. I beat these fellows shooting at a mark, and then they wanted
to trade guns, which I declined. This piece of meat helped us along
considerably with our provisions, for game was very scarce and only some
sage hens had come across our trail. One day I scared a hawk off the
ground, and we took the sage hen he had caught and was eating, and made
some soup of it.
After being on this trail six or seven days we began to think of killing
one of our colts for food, for we had put ourselves on two meals a day
and the work was very hard; so that hunger was all the time increasing.
We thought this was a pretty long road for Walker to ride over in three
sleeps as he said he could, and we began also to think there might be
some mistake somewhere, although it had otherwise turned out just as he
said. On the eighth day our horse-tracks came out into a large trail
which was on a down grade leading in a northward direction. On the ninth
day we came into a large valley, and near night came in sight of a few
covered wagons, a part of a train that intended going on a little later
over the southern route to Los Angeles but were waiting for the weather
to get a little cooler, for a large part of the route was over almost
barren deserts. We were very glad to find these wagons, for they seemed
to have plenty of food and the bountiful supper they treated us to was
the very thing we needed. We camped here and told them of the hardships
we had passed through. They had hired a guide, each wagon paying him ten
dollars for his service. Our little party talked over the situation
among ourselves, and concluded that as we were good walkers we must
allow ourselves to be used in any way so that we had grub and concluded
as many of us as possible would try to get some service to do for our
board and walk along with the party. John Rogers had a dollar and a half
and I had thirty dollars, which was all the money we had in our camp. We
found out we were about 60 miles south of Salt Lake City. Some of the
boys next day arranged to work for their board, and the others would be
taken along if they would furnish themselves with flour and bacon. This
part of the proposition fell to me and two others, and so Hazelrig and I
took the two colts and started for the city, where they told us we could
get all we needed with our little purse of money. We reached Hobble
Creek before night, near Salt Lake where there was a Mormon fort, and
were also a number of wagons belonging to some prospecting train. There
seemed to be no men about and we were looking about among the wagons for
some one to inquire of, when a woman came to the front of the last wagon
and looked out at us, and to my surprise it was Mrs. Bennett, wife of
the man I had been trying to overtake ever since my start on this long
trip. Bennett had my entire outfit with him on this trip and was all the
time wondering whether I would ever catch up with them. We stayed till
the men came in with their cattle towards night, and Bennett was glad
enough to see me, I assure you. We had a good substantial supper and
then sat around the campfire nearly all night telling of our experience
since leaving Wisconsin. I had missed Bennett at the Missouri River. I
knew of no place where people crossed the river except Council Bluff,
here I had searched faithfully, finding no trace of him, but it seems
they had crossed farther up at a place called Kanesville, a Mormon
crossing, and followed up the Platte river on the north side. Their only
bad luck had been to lose a fine black horse, which was staked out, and
when a herd of buffaloes came along he broke his rope and followed after
them. He was looked for with other horses, but never found and doubtless
became a prize for some enterprising Mr. Lo. who was fortunate enough to
capture him. Hazelrig and I told of our experience on the south side of
the Platte; why we went down Green River; what a rough time we had; how
we were stopped by the Indians and how we had come across from the
river, arriving the day before and were now on our way to Salt Lake to
get some flour and bacon so we could go on with the train when it
started as they had offered to haul our grub for our service if we could
carry ourselves on foot.
Mr. Bennett would not hear of my going on to Salt Lake City, for he said
there must be provisions enough in the party and in the morning we were
able to buy flour and bacon of John Philips of Mineral Point Wis. and of
Wm. Philips his brother. I think we got a hundred pounds of flour and a
quantity of bacon and some other things. I had some money which I had
received for my horse sold to Dallas, but as the others had none I paid
for it all, and told Hazelrig to take the ponies and go back to camp
with a share of the provisions and do the best he could. I had now my
own gun and ammunition, with some clothing and other items which I had
prepared in Wisconsin before I started after my Winnebago pony, and I
felt I ought to share the money I had with the other boys to help them
as best I could. I felt that I was pretty well fixed and had nothing to
fear.
Mr. Bennett told me much of the trip on the north side of the Platte. He
said they had some cholera, of which a few people died, and related how
the outer if not the inner nature of the men changed as they left
civilization, law and the courts behind them. Some who had been raised
together, and lived together all their lives without discord or trouble,
who were considered model men at home and just the right people to be
connected with in such an expedition, seemed to change their character
entirely out on these wild wastes. When anything excited their
displeasure their blood boiled over, and only the interference of older
and wiser heads on many occasions prevented bloodshed. Some dissolved
the solemn contract they had made to travel together systematically and
in order and to stand, by, even unto death, and when they reached the
upper Platte, the journey only half over, talked of going back, or
splitting up the outfit and join others they had taken a fancy to. Some
who could not agree upon a just division of a joint outfit, thinking one
party was trying to cheat, would not yield but would cut their wagons in
two lengthwise just for spite so that no carts could be made and the
whole vehicle spoiled for both parties. The ugly disagreements were many
and the cloven foot was shown in many ways. Guns were often drawn and
pointed but some one would generally interfere and prevent bloodshed.
Others were honest and law abiding to the last degree beyond law and
churches, and would act as harmoniously as at home, obeying their chosen
captain in the smallest particular without any grumbling or dissension,
doing to every one as they would be done by. These were the pride of the
train. The trains were most of them organized, and all along the river
bottom one was hardly ever out of sight of some of the wagons, all going
west. Buffalo and antelope were plenty and in great droves, followed
always by wolves great and small, who were on the lookout for crippled
or dead animals with which to fill their hungry stomachs. Buffalo meat
was plenty and much enjoyed while passing this section of the road and
this opportunity of replenishing, enabled the stock to last them over
more desolate regions where game was scarce.
After Bennett had told his stories, and I had related more of our own
close escapes I began to ask him why he went this way which seemed to be
very circuitous and much longer than the way they had first intended to
go. He said that it was too late in the season to go the straight-road
safely, for there was yet 700 miles of bad country to cross and do the
best they could it would be at the commencement of the rainy season
before the Sierra Nevada mountains could be reached and in those
mountains there was often a snow fall of 20 feet or more, and anyone
caught in it would surely perish. If they tried to winter at the base of
the mountains it was a long way to get provisions, and no assurance of
wild game, and this course was considered very hazardous for any one to
undertake. This they had learned after consulting mountaineers and
others who knew about the regions, and as there was nothing doing among
the Latter Day Saints to give employment to any one, it was decided best
to keep moving and go the southern route by way of Los Angeles. No
wagons were reported as ever getting through that way, but a trail had
been traveled through that barren desert country for perhaps a hundred
years, and the same could be easily broadened into a wagon road.
After days of argument and camp-fire talks, this Southern route was
agreed upon, and Capt. Hunt was chosen as guide. Capt. Hunt was a
Mormon, and had more than one wife, but he had convinced them that he
knew something about the road. Each agreed to give him ten dollars to
pilot the train to San Bernardino where the Mormon Church had bought a
Spanish grant of land, and no doubt they thought a wagon road to that
place would benefit them greatly, and probably gave much encouragement
for the parties to travel this way. It was undoubtedly safer than the
northern mountain route at this season of the year. It seemed at least
to be a new venture for west-bound emigrant trains, at least as to
ultimate success, for we had no knowledge of any that had gone through
safely.
Some western people remembered the history of the Mormons in Illinois
and Missouri, and their doings there, feared somewhat for their own
safety now that they were so completely under their power, for they knew
the Mormons to be revengeful and it was considered very unsafe for any
traveler to acknowledge he was from Missouri. Many a one who had been
born there, and lived there all his life, would promptly claim some
other state as his native place. I heard one Mormon say that there were
some Missourians on the plains that would never reach California. "They
used us bad," said he, and his face took on a really murderous look.
These Mormons at Salt Lake were situated as if on an island in the sea,
and no enemy could reach any adjoining state or territory if Brigham
Young's band of destroying angels were only warned to look after them.
At a late hour that night we lay down to sleep, and morning came clear
and bright. After breakfast Mr. Bennett said to me:--"Now Lewis I want
you to go with me; I have two wagons and two drivers and four yoke of
good oxen and plenty of provisions. I have your outfit yet, your gun and
ammunition and your two good hickory shirts which are just in time for
your present needs. You need not do any work. You just look around and
kill what game you can for us, and this will help as much as anything,
you can do." I was, of course glad to accept this offer, and thanks to
Mr. Bennett's kind care of my outfit, was better fixed then any of the
other boys.
We inquired around among the other wagons as to their supply of flour
and bacon; and succeeded to getting flour from Mr. Philips and bacon
from some of the others, as much as we supposed the other boys would
need, which I paid for, and when this was loaded on the two colts
Hazelrig started back alone to the boys in camp. As I was so well
provided for I gave him all my money for they might need some, and I did
not.
The wagons which composed the intended train were very much scattered
about, having moved out from Salt Lake at pleasure, and it was said to
be too early to make the start on the southern route, for the weather on
the hot, barren desert was said to grow cooler a little later in the
season, and it was only at this cool season that the south west part of
the desert could be crossed in safety. The scattering members of the
train began to congregate, and Capt. Hunt said it was necessary to have
some sort of system about the move, and that before they moved they must
organize and adopt rules and laws which must be obeyed. He said they
must move like an army, and that he was to be a dictator in all things
except that in case of necessity a majority of the train could rule
otherwise. It was thought best to get together and try a march out one
day, then go in camp and organize.
This they did, and at the camp there was gathered one hundred and seven
wagons, a big drove of horses and cattle, perhaps five hundred in all.
The train was divided into seven divisions and each division was to
elect its own captain. Division No. 1 should lead the march the first
day, and their men should take charge of the stock and deliver them to
the wagons in the morning, and then No. 1 should take the rear, with No.
2 in the lead to break the road. The rear division would not turn a
wheel before 10 o'clock the next day, and it would be about that time at
night before they were in camp and unyoked. The numbers of animals
cleaned out the feed for a mile or two each side of the camp and a
general meeting was called for the organization of the whole. Mr. L.
Granger got up so he could look over the audience and proceeded to
explain the plan and to read a preamble and resolutions which had been
prepared as the basis for government. I remember that it begun
thus:--"This Organization shall be known and designated as the Sand
Walking Company, and shall consist of seven divisions etc," detailing
the manner of marching as we have recited. Capt J. Hunt was chosen
commander and guide, and his orders must be obeyed. All possible trouble
that we could imagine might come was provided against in our written
agreement, and all promised to live up to it.