Transcriber's note: Italics text is denoted by _underscores_.
[Illustration]
THE AWAKENING OF THE DESERT
THE AWAKENING
OF THE DESERT
BY
JULIUS C. BIRGE
_With Illustrations_
[Illustration]
RICHARD G. BADGER
THE GORHAM PRESS
BOSTON
_Copyright 1912 by Richard G. Badger_
_All Rights Reserved_
_The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A_.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A Call to the Wilderness 11
II "Roll Out" 18
III The Advancing Wave of Civilization 24
IV A River Town of the Day 38
V Our Introduction to the Great Plains 52
VI The Oregon Trail 64
VII Society in the Wilderness 76
VIII Jack Morrow's Ranch 88
IX Men of the Western Twilight 102
X Dan, the Doctor 118
XI Fording the Platte in High Water 133
XII The Phantom Liar of Greasewood Desert 142
XIII The Mystery of Scott's Bluffs 156
XIV The Peace Pipe at Laramie 167
XV Red Cloud on the War Path 186
XVI The Mormon Trail 196
XVII Wild Midnight Revelry in the Caspar Hills 211
XVIII A Night at Red Buttes 223
XIX Camp Fire Yarns at Three Crossings 237
XX A Spectacular Buffalo Chase 252
XXI The Parting of the Ways 267
XXII The Banditti of Ham's Fork 281
XXIII Through the Wasatch Mountains 290
XXIV Why a Fair City Arose in a Desert 303
XXV Some Inside Glimpses of Mormon Affairs 324
XXVI Mormon Homes and Social Life 342
XXVII The Boarding House Train 359
XXVIII Some Episodes in Stock Hunting 380
XXIX Adventures of an Amateur Detective 393
XXX The Overland Stage Line 409
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Trail Through Salt Lake Desert Frontispiece
Facing page
Elk 16
Wild Cat 48
The Oregon Trail, Through Mitchell Pass 64
Chimney Rock, One of the Old Landmarks of the '49 Trail 74
Grizzly Bear 96
Cougar 112
Buffalos 130
Jail Rock and Court House Rock 148
Scott's Bluff, Showing Dome Rock in the Distance 155
The Old Company Quarters at Fort Laramie 184
Sage Brush Growth 202
The Rockies 252
Fremont Peak and Island Lake on the West Slope of the
Wind River Range 268
Red Sandstone Cliffs, on Wind River 280
Weber River, Mouth of Echo Canyon 294
Joseph Smith 304
The King of Beaver Island 308
Brigham Young 316
First House Built in Salt Lake City 330
Great Salt Lake 346
Through the Wasatch 360
Dead Man's Falls, Little Cottonwood, Utah 386
Sutter's Fort Before Restoration, Sacramento, Calif 406
First House in Denver 420
THE AWAKENING OF THE DESERT
[Illustration: TRAIL THROUGH SALT LAKE DESERT]
THE AWAKENING OF THE DESERT
CHAPTER I
A Call to the Wilderness
"Will you join us in a camping trip to the Pacific Coast?" This alluring
invitation was addressed to the writer one cold, drizzly night in the
early spring of 1866 by Captain Hill Whitmore, one of a party of six men
who by prearrangement had gathered round a cheerful wood fire in a
village store in Whitewater, Wisconsin.
The regular business of the establishment had ended for the day; the
tight wooden shutters had been placed upon the doors and windows of the
store as was the custom in those times; and the key was now turned in
the lock to prevent intrusions. All the lights had been turned off,
except that of a single kerosene lamp, suspended from the ceiling near
the stove; the gentle glow revealed within a small arc on either side of
the room the lines of shelving filled with bolts of dry goods, but
toward the front and the rear of the long room it was lost in the
darkness. The conditions were favorable for a quiet, undisturbed
discussion of a proposed enterprise, for even Ray, the clerk, after
ramming a maple log into the fire, had quietly stretched himself out
upon one of the long counters near the stove, resting his head upon a
bolt of blue denim.
Tipping back in a big wooden chair against the opposite counter, at the
Captain's side, with his feet on the rail by the stove, sat big John
Wilson. John had made a trip across the plains with Whitmore the
preceding year, and was now arranging to become his partner in a similar
venture on a larger scale. Trader and adventurer by instinct, Wilson, as
his record had shown, would promptly accept a brickyard or a grocery in
exchange for live stock or a farm, and preferred any new enterprise to a
business with which he was familiar.
Fred Day, an interesting young man of twenty years, was a consumptive.
He and I sat side by side at the front of the stove, while nervous
little Paul Beemer, when not pacing back and forth between the counters
behind us, sat astride a small chair, resting his arms on its back, and
listening with close attention.
Stalwart Dan Trippe sat in a big arm chair near Paul. He had already
been informed in a general way that a transcontinental expedition was
being planned. Dan also was ever ready to consider any new venture. He
had once crossed the plains to Pike's Peak, and had no present vocation.
Running his fingers through his curly hair, as was his habit in serious
moments, he launched a question toward the opposite side of the stove.
"Well, John, what's the proposition? What's the scheme?"
Dropping his chair forward upon its four legs, and knocking the ashes
from his pipe, John proceeded to outline the tentative plan then in
mind. Briefly stated, the project was to fit out a wagon train with the
view of freighting from the Missouri River to the Coast. In the
preceding year the rates for transportation to Salt Lake had been from
twenty to thirty cents per pound, affording a fine profit if the train
should go through safe.
Hill Whitmore, a vigorous, compactly built man, then in the prime of
life, and who since the discovery of gold in California had more than
once piloted such trains across the wide stretch of plains and mountains
to the Pacific Coast, would be a partner in the enterprise and the
Captain of the expedition. We had known him long and well.
An opportunity was now offered for the investment of more capital which,
if no mishap should befall the train, would pay 'big money.'
A few young fellows could also accompany the outfit and obtain a great
experience at a moderate cost. Being myself a convalescent from a
serious attack of typhoid fever, and having temporarily withdrawn from
business at the recommendation of physicians, Fred's condition commanded
my serious consideration. I gently pulled his coat-sleeve as a signal
for him to follow me, and we leisurely sauntered down into the shadows
near the front of the store where, backing up against a counter, we were
soon seated together on its top. We both knew, without exchanging a
word, that we had some interests in common. Ordinarily, he was a genial
and affable companion, but we both remained silent then, for we were
absorbed in thinking--and doubtless along the same lines. The mere
suggestion of the trip at once brought vividly to my mind all the little
I then knew of the West. Like all Gaul in the days of Caesar, it seemed
in some vague way to be divided into three parts, the plains, the
mountains, and the region beyond.
The indefiniteness of the old western maps of the day left much to the
imagination of the young student of geography and suggested the idea of
something new to be discovered. The great American Desert was
represented as extending hundreds of miles along the eastern slope of
the mountains. Other deserts were shown in the unoccupied spaces
beyond, and
"As geographers in Afric's maps
With savage pictures fill their gaps,"
so here and there on our maps of the western territories was inserted
the name of some Indian tribe which was supposed to lead its wild,
nomadic life in the district indicated. A few rivers and mountain peaks
which had received the names of early explorers, Great Salt Lake to
which the Mormons had been led, and other objects to which had been
applied the breezy, not to say blood-curdling, appellations peculiar to
the nomenclature of the West, all were perhaps more familiar to the
average American schoolboy than were the classic names which have lived
through twenty centuries of history. In the imagination of youth, "Smoky
Hill Fork," "Devil's Slide," and "Rattlesnake Hills" figured as pretty
nearly what such terms naturally suggest. Along the first-mentioned
stream--then far away from civilization--the soft haze and smoke of an
ideal Indian summer was supposed to rest perpetually, and it was
believed that in days of long ago, weird demons were really wont to
disport themselves on the mountain slope called Devil's Slide. The far
West seemed to be a mystic land always and everywhere wooing to
interesting adventure.
"Do you think that Ben would go?" asked Fred in an earnest tone.
"That's a bright thought, Fred. With Ben, we would be a harmonious
triumvirate; but let's hear more of the program." So we returned to our
seats by the stove.
Whitmore was outlining some of the details and indicating the provisions
which it would be necessary to make, in view of the fact that no
railroad had as yet been laid even across Iowa, much less between the
Missouri and the Pacific.
"Now boys, you must understand that we're cutting loose from all
established settlements. There won't be any stores to drop into to buy
anything that you have forgotten to bring along. Anybody that wants
lemonade will have to bring along his lemons and his squeezer. After we
get beyond the Missouri River you will find no white peoples' homes
until you strike the Mormon settlement in Utah, so we'll have to take
along enough grub to feed us for several months;--of course we ought to
kill some game on the way, which will help out. Our stock must live
wholly upon such pasturage as can be found along the way. The men must
also be well armed with rifles; wagons must be built; and the cattle
must be purchased. There is a lot to do to get ready, and we must start
in on it at once."
During the preceding year, as was well known, the Indians in the West
had been unusually hostile. Many parties of freighters, among them
Whitmore's train, had been attacked, and a great number of travelers had
been massacred. That year and the one to be described, are still
mentioned in the annals of the West, as "the bloody years on the
plains." This state of affairs was fully considered and discussed, not
solely from the standpoint of personal safety, but also with reference
to the success of the enterprise.
Having been reared among the Indian tribes of Southern Wisconsin, and
within a mile of the spot where Abraham Lincoln disbanded his company at
the close of the Black Hawk War, I was disposed to believe that I was
not entirely unfamiliar with the manners and customs of the aborigines.
Searches for arrows and spearheads in prehistoric Aztalan and in other
places, visits to Bad Axe and to other scenes of conflict with Indians
had been to me sources of keen delight. Over these battlefields there
seemed to rest a halo of glory. They were invested with interest
profound as that which, in later years, stimulated my imagination when I
looked upon more notable battlefields of the Old World, where the
destinies of nations had been decided. But at this time the experiences
of my youth were fresh in my mind and the suggestion of a western trip
found in me an eager welcome.
It was not indeed the lure of wealth, nor entirely a search for health
that attracted the younger members of the party to a consideration of
the project, nor in contemplating such an expedition was there enkindled
any burning desire for warfare; it was the fascination of the wild life
in prospect that tempted us most powerfully to share the fortunes of the
other boys who had been our companions in earlier years and whom we
fervently hoped would join the party. Fred undoubtedly expressed our
sentiments when he said:
"My enthusiasm might take a big slump if a raid of those red devils
should swoop down upon us, but if I go, I shall feel as if I didn't get
my money's worth, if we don't see some of the real life of the Wild
West."
We had all been accustomed to the use of firearms and could picture in
our imagination how, from behind an ample rock, with the aid of good
long-range rifles, we would valiantly defend ourselves against an enemy
armed with bows and arrows, we being far beyond the range of such
primitive weapons.
[Illustration: ELK]
Immense herds of buffalo and other large game were also known to range
over the plains from the Canadian border to the Gulf of Mexico, and
these at times might receive proper attention. Yea, there were some
present who even expressed a desire to capture a grizzly bear in the
mountains--of course under sane and safe conditions--though none up to
that time had seen the real thing.
A former schoolmate, Billy Comstock, best known as "Wild Bill," who rode
the first pony express from Atchison, and had often been called upon by
our Government to act as Indian interpreter, was said to be somewhere on
the plains. This was encouraging, for William would be able to give us
some interesting pointers.
"We will meet here again after the store closes tomorrow night" was the
word that passed round as we went out into the sleet and rain, and the
door closed behind us.
At the earliest opportunity our friend, Ben Frees, who had recently
returned from the war, was interviewed with favorable results.
"Yes, I will go with the boys," was my decision finally reached after a
full discussion of the subject at home.
And the three boys went.