THE COMMISSION REPORTS AND IDAHO IS SELECTED—COLONY NUMBER ONE PREPARES
TO ENTER THE LAND OF ITS CHOICE—THE JOURNEY TO HUNTINGTON, OREGON, AND
INCIDENTS AT THAT PLACE—ON TO DEER VALLEY.
The commission to investigate the resources of Idaho performed their
labors conscientiously and after an absence of about a month made such a
report as determined our people to choose Idaho for the home of the
society. This important detail being settled, it was decided to send
Colony Number One into the field as speedily as possible. The commission
had recommended a valley through which ran a small stream into Snake
river as a suitable location. It was a beautiful valley, about
twenty-five miles in length and from a quarter of one to five miles
wide. The stream flowing from the high mountains near its source had
never been known to fail, and poured its torrents with ceaseless power
into the flood at its mouth.
The mountains rose only a short distance from its banks for ten miles
along its course, but when it emerged from the foot hills the broad and
fertile acres spread away on both sides until they reached the top of
rich divides. In the mountains along its border grew great forests of
yellow pine and gold and silver abounded. Gold had also been mined in
placers all along the valley, and was still found in greater or less
quantity. The soil was as rich as that of the Nile, and everywhere in
the wild state the grasses grew luxuriant and nutritious.
The climate, we learned, was all that could be desired. Surrounded by
high mountains and plateaus and nestling in the depths of an immense
depression, extreme climatic changes were unknown. The winters were as
mild as those of Southern Ohio and the Chinook winds from the warm
Pacific currents breathed over this region, now and then, the balmy
sympathy of southern climes.
Colony Number One was fully organized with John Thompson as President,
Henderson as Treasurer and myself as Secretary. The number of our
members was then three hundred. We were not limited by any law or rule
as to our membership, but had decided to accept no more applications
until we were fully established in our western home. It was arranged
that fifty men should go to the selected location and make the necessary
preparations for the colony. Thompson, Henderson and myself were
included. The other forty-seven were made up of mechanics, farmers and
lumbermen.
There were six farmers, six lumber and sawmill men, six carpenters,
three masons, three stonecutters, three expert sheep men, three expert
cattle men, three merchants, one physician, one blacksmith, one
horseshoer, and eleven who, although men of intelligence and able to
adapt themselves to all kinds of work, were not trained to any special
calling. These fifty paid into the colony treasury one hundred dollars
each; fifty others, who were expected to follow us in three months, paid
in twenty-five dollars; fifty more paid fifteen dollars; fifty others
paid ten dollars, and the remainder five. All these were to continue
payments at the same rate monthly until the entrance fee of one hundred
dollars was paid, when the member would become entitled to enter the
colony as an active colonist. We found ourselves possessed, then, on the
day of our departure, of eight thousand five hundred dollars, paid in by
members, and the Brotherhood throughout the United States loaned us ten
thousand dollars from its accumulated fund, to be repaid in three years.
Our faith and credit, as honest men, were the only security the
Brotherhood required. Each man paid his own fare and traveling expenses
until we reached Huntington, in Eastern Oregon. From that point until we
arrived at our destination all expenses were to be borne in common and
defrayed from the common fund.
It was agreed that until the colony was entirely established, and its
business had reached a tolerably settled condition, John Thompson should
have larger powers than the presidential office conferred upon him. This
was done because it was thought the exigencies and uncertainties of the
situation demanded his varied experience and the exercise of his quick
judgment and large executive force. We regarded him as a sort of
military chief, although we were as little like a military band as it
would be possible to conceive. He naturally assumed the leadership and
we naturally submitted to it. The better to direct our movements he
divided us into squads of six, putting the carpenters into a squad
numbered one, and directing them to choose a foreman; the masons and
stonecutters together numbered two; the sheep and cattle men numbered
three; the lumber and sawmill men numbered four; the merchants,
blacksmith, horseshoer and one commoner numbered five; the farmers
numbered six; six commoners numbered seven; Henderson, myself and four
commoners, all of the latter being educated men, one an ex-editor, one
an ex-clergyman and one an assayer and chemist and another a surveyor
and ex-real estate man, numbered eight. The physician was not included
in any squad but was, as we facetiously declared, to constitute a squad
by himself.
May 1st, 1897, we took our departure from Chicago for our future home,
and proceeding over the Union Pacific arrived at Huntington in due time.
Disembarking here, we went into camp on the outskirts of the little town
and commenced the purchase of our necessary outfit.
Before leaving Chicago we had purchased and caused to be shipped to us a
stock of groceries, hardware, a limited quantity of dry goods, drugs,
paints, a number of ploughs, harrows and farm and mining tools and tools
for our mechanics, a portable sawmill and eight farm wagons at a cost of
nine thousand dollars in all. These were all at Huntington when we
arrived. But we were without live stock, horses or seed. Thompson, who
had been conceded the title of captain, assigned to each squad its duty.
Number One received orders to take charge of one wagon and load the same
with such tools as carpenters required, and if any room was left over to
report to him. Number Two assumed charge of a second wagon with similar
instructions. Number Three did the same with the third wagon, but was
also directed to purchase, in the surrounding country, ten milch cows, a
herd of one hundred and fifty cattle and one thousand sheep. Number Four
was instructed to take one wagon and in addition to provide for the
transportation of the portable sawmill. Numbers Five, Six, Seven and
Eight were each assigned to a wagon, and Thompson, with the aid of two
members of Number Six, who were excellent horsemen, undertook the
purchase of the horses.
We sojourned in the neighborhood of Huntington a week. At the end of
that time our company was prepared to move. We had purchased a quantity
of seed for two hundred dollars, sixteen draft horses at a cost of eight
hundred dollars, and forty-two saddle horses at a cost of eight hundred
and forty dollars. We had acquired our milch cows for two hundred
dollars, one hundred and fifty cattle for two thousand dollars and a
flock of sheep numbering one thousand for fifteen hundred dollars, and
there remained four thousand dollars in our treasury.
The road from Huntington was quite familiar to “The Captain” and myself.
Both of us, but at different periods, had spent considerable time in the
vicinity of Huntington and had explored along Snake river and its
tributaries for gold. We were able, therefore, to point out a suitable
road and as we proceeded upon our journey we encountered no obstacles
except when we found it necessary to cross Snake river.
This obstacle only served to delay us a short time, there being at that
point a ferry which we employed to take us across. Once in Idaho our
people seemed to acquire new life. Everything was full of interest. We
made no effort to march in any regular system except that the squad
wagons followed each other in numerical order, the bull train, which had
been hired to transport the portable sawmill, following somewhat slowly
far in the rear. The men in charge of the machinery were residents of
Huntington and well acquainted with the road to our destination, which
was then known as Deer Valley.
As we moved along we found the country settled, but somewhat sparsely.
Here and there a rancher came out to salute us and, learning of our
intention to settle in Idaho, bade us a hearty welcome. Sometimes we
fell in with cowboys in charge of herds of cattle, and passed through
several camps of miners who worked the placers along Snake river.
Several of these latter were composed of Chinese and their workings were
referred to by the white miners in other camps as “Chinese Diggings.” We
observed that everywhere the soil was rich but lacking in moisture
except where irrigation was employed. The grasses, although the season
was early, were luxuriant and the cattle, which had wintered without
shelter, were in remarkably good condition.
Several of the large ranches were among the most beautiful I had ever
seen. One of these, comprising about five hundred acres, was located
where a swift stream, called Conner creek, flowed into Snake river. This
stream had been tapped at a high elevation and the waters diverted, by
means of a flume, to the rich alluvial lands below. There a system of
small ditches distributed the waters among orchards of peaches, apples,
pears, plums, nectarines and apricots and among vineyards of grapes and
beds of strawberries. The rancher who had charge of this wonderful
little domain, a portly old man, full of information, affable and
communicative, assured me that he had traveled the world over but had
never beheld a fairer spot than this. “But,” said he, “Idaho is filled
with such places.”
I asked him about the markets and he candidly informed me that he had
been unable to garner and ship his fruits, lacking funds for that
purpose, but that he had sold his vegetables at a good profit in the
neighboring mining camps. He also showed us a large quantity of dried
fruit which his son had cut and prepared and which there was a market
for in the same camps.
“But,” he said, “I have not found the South to be as profitable for
farming as this locality, because if their market is more extensive it
is also far cheaper. At the outset the advantage is with us. Our grain,
hay, hogs and vegetables are all readily disposed of and command a good
price among the gold mines.”
Such incidents, and the sublime scenery which everywhere presented
itself to our delighted vision, varied the monotony of our journey so
that the three days spent on the way after crossing Snake river seemed
to pass like a dream. We arrived at Deer Valley without any accident of
a serious nature, full of hope, in the best of health and eager to begin
the work of laying, as it were, the corner-stone of the Co-operative
Commonwealth.