At Warner's Ranch, we came to the first house we had seen in

California. Mr. Warner hailed from the state of Massachusetts. From him

the colonel purchased two or three fat beeves. The beef was good, yet

we had nothing to eat with it, not even pepper or salt for seasoning,

and it did not satisfy the cravings of hunger. We rested a day at the

ranch, and some of us wandered off up the creek in hopes of finding

wild fruit or game. We came to a small camp of Indians who were engaged

in hulling and leaching live-oak acorns, then pounding them to a pulp

in stone mortars; this was boiled to a thick mush in home-made earthen

pots. The writer bantered one of the old ladies for about three or four

quarts of that cold-ochre mush, by offering her the belt that held

his pantaloons in place. She accepted the offer, and he, being without

proper utensil to receive his purchase, substituted his hat for a pan,

and the mush was scooped into it. Then when he found himself in the

dilemma of his pantaloons threatening to desert him, he seized the

alternative of holding up that portion of his attire with one hand, and

carrying his hat and its contents in the other, and proceeded to camp,

where his purchase was divided and devoured as a sweet morsel.

From Warner's Ranch we traveled over low hills and camped on a little

narrow flat between two hills. In the night it came on to rain

terribly, and the flat was so flooded that we awoke to find ourselves

half-side deep in water. At dawn one of the boys crawled out of the

water and wet blankets, and crowed; for he had learned that the men who

had been sent back to recover some flour which had been left in the

boat had come in with about four hundred pounds. Soon every man in camp

had heard the glad tidings of the arrival of this expedition, about

which there had been much anxiety.

In a short time the writer was called on by the orderly sergeant of

his company, D, to go with him and receive the portion of flour to be

issued to the company. At the door of the tent where the flour was

being divided we met Col. Cooke, who was sitting with his head down, as

if in deep study. Some of the boys had found a riddle that had fared

better than its owner, and near by one of them struck up the tune

of "Leather Breeches Full of Stitches," or some similar lively air.

Immediately a number of men formed a couple of French fours and began

dancing in water half to their shoe tops. The colonel caught the sound,

started up, and inquired what it was. Some one replied, "Oh, nothing,

only the boys are dancing and making merry over the prospect of getting

a little flour." The colonel shrugged his shoulders and remarked, "I

never saw such a d--d set of men before in my life. If they can get out

somewhere so they can dry their clothes and have a little flour they

will be as happy as gods!"

Doubtless the colonel could call to mind often having seen us stagger

into camp, and perhaps could remember a dozen or so of us rush to where

his mule was being fed corn mixed with beans, which the well-fed mule

would object to by throwing his head first one way, then the other,

scattering the half-chewed corn and beans in the sand, where the hungry

soldiers would pick it from, rub it in their hands, and eat it raw; for

to the famishing soldier beans are not so objectionable.

I am reminded at this point in my narrative that three croaking ravens

had followed the command nearly all the way from Santa Fe, for the

bits that escaped the soldier's eye. Surely if it had not been for the

ravens' keener vision they would have left in disgust, and would have

given us a very hard name. Even the wolf might have told his fellows

not to follow such a greedy lot, which did not leave a bone till it was

pounded and boiled and re-boiled till it could not be scented, and if

perchance a bit was found it was too hard for even wolves' teeth.

From this camp we moved to the west under orders from General Kearney

to go to Los Angeles. While on the march toward that point, just as we

emerged from a canyon, we heard the drum and fife in an open valley.

Soon we saw a military force forming in line of battle, and as we drew

nearer we discovered their spears or lances gleaming in the sunlight,

and officers dashing up and down the lines giving commands. Our advance

guard slowed up, and we were ordered to form in line of battle. Every

officer took his place, the command dressed in proper order, and, as we

advanced, comrades looked into each other's faces as if to say, "How

do you feel about it?" One asked Alexander Stephens the question, and

received a prompt reply, "First-rate. I had as lief go into battle as

not. If we must die, the sooner the better, for it seems that we must

be worn till we starve and die anyhow. I do not fear death a particle."

Others were heard to say as much, and although the ashy look of death

shone in many faces, from the privations undergone, I do not think

there was a tremor in any heart, or a single man who showed the white

feather.

As we drew near the force in our path, there was a dead silence, as if

awaiting the order to wheel into line and open fire, for we were within

rifle range. Just then two of the opposite party came out on horseback

to meet us. The colonel sent two of our interpreters forward, and

the command was halted. Soon our guides returned and stated that the

supposed foe was a band of Indians which had had a battle with Mexicans

in the vicinity a few days before, and the Indians had returned to bury

their dead. They had taken us for enemies, but their fears were turned

into joy on discovering that we were American soldiers.

With all our bravery, there was a sigh of relief when we heard the news

that our supposed enemies were friends. It was now late in the day.

and both parties went into camp within a short distance of each other.

Friendly visits back and forth were made that evening. The Indians were

dressed in Spanish costume and were armed the same as the Mexicans;

as I remember them they displayed bravery, and some skill in Mexican

military tactics.

Next day we proceeded on our way, and passed down a dry wash, the

bottom of which was mostly lined with a whitish cobblestone, upon which

the feet of some comrade showed blood at every step for a hundred yards

or more. I cannot now recall the man's name. We continued our march

from that place, and afterwards learned that the Mexicans had intended

to make an effort to regain California, but the timely arrival of the

battalion prevented any attempt to execute the movement.

So far as I can remember, it was between January 23 and 27, 1847, that

we passed over a battlefield where General Kearney and his little

command had fought and beaten the Mexicans. There lay broken swords and

firearms, and dead horses and mules; and there also were the graves of

the slain, while all around the blood-stained soil was plainly within

our view, fixing the scene upon our memory.

Here came to our minds the words of President Brigham Young, in his

farewell address to the battalion, in which he said: "You are now going

into an enemy's land at your country's call. If you will live your

religion, obey and respect your officers, and hold sacred the property

of the people among whom you travel, and never take anything but what

you pay for, I promise you in the name of Israel's God that not one of

you shall fall by the hand of an enemy. Though there will be battles

fought in your front and in your rear, on your right hand and on your

left, you will not have any fighting to do except with wild beasts."

Here I pause and ask: Who on earth dare to make, of himself, such a

promise, under the circumstances and in the name that this promise had

been made? And yet over three hundred men who heard it could stand

up after they had filled the time of their enlistment, and before

high heaven and all the world could bear testimony to the literal

fulfillment of those words spoken eight months before, in the camp in

Missouri Valley, two thousand miles distant. I ask the honest reader:

From whence came such foresight, if not from the Eternal God, the

Creator of the heavens and the earth, and all things therein? To Him we

ascribe all honor and glory, power and praise, for our success in that

great, wonderful and unparalleled march of twenty-five hundred miles

made by infantry. Who shall say that God had not made bare His arm in

support of that ever memorable Mormon Battalion? But as yet the whole

task of the battalion had not been completed.

CHAPTER XI.

ORDERED TO SAN DIEGO--FIRST VIEW OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN--RUMORS

OF THE ENEMY--COMPLIMENTARY ORDER, BY LIEUT. COL. COOKE, ON THE

ACHIEVEMENTS OF THE MORMON BATTALION--REPORTED HOSTILITY OF

COL. FREMONT TO GEN. KEARNEY--LIVING ON BEEF ALONE--OBTAIN SOME

FLOUR--ROUTINE OF THE CAMP--ORDERED TO LOS ANGELES--DAMAGE BY AN

EARTHQUAKE--WILD HORSES AND CATTLE DRIVEN INTO THE SEA--ARRIVAL AT

LOS ANGELES--RUMORS OF AN ATTACK--CONSTRUCTING A FORT--GUARDING CAJON

PASS--SURROUNDED BY WILD CATTLE--TAKE REFUGE IN A RAVINE--COL. FREMONT

ARRESTED--SITE OF SAN BERNARDINO--GETTING OUT A LIBERTY POLE--BRUSH

WITH THE INDIANS--CLEARING LOS ANGELES OF DOGS--WICKEDNESS IN THE

TOWN--BRUTALITY OF BULL FIGHTS, HORSE RACING, ETC.--ALWAYS READY FOR

AN ATTACK--FIRST RAISING OF THE STARS AND STRIPES ON A LIBERTY POLE IN

CALIFORNIA.

ORDERS had been received changing our destination from Los Angeles to

San Diego, passing by way of the Mission San Luis del Rey. When we

reached the San Diego Mission we passed it by and camped between it and

the town. It was en route to this place that we came in sight of the

waters of the great Pacific Ocean, a view that was most pleasurable to

us, and which we hailed with shouts of joy, as we felt that our long

march of starvation was about over. We were now drawing five pounds of

fair beef, without salt or pepper.

Another day's march, and we had completed the journey over the nation's

highway across the continent. We were allowed one day at San Diego,

when we were ordered back to the San Luis del Rey Mission. There

was some disappointment, but the order to return was obeyed without

murmuring. It was thought we would meet the enemy, as it was said there

was a force of about eighteen hundred Californians, under General

Flores, lurking in the mountains northwest of San Luis del Rey Mission,

but we did not see them. At the Mission we were required to do fatigue

duty, as it was called, which included cleaning up the place, it having

been neglected a long time. At this place the following was issued by

Col. Cooke:

"HEADQUARTERS, MISSION OF SAN DIEGO,

"January 30, 1847.

"Lieutenant Colonel commanding congratulates the battalion on its safe

arrival on the shores of the Pacific Ocean, and the conclusion of its

march of over two thousand miles. History may be searched in vain for

an equal march of infantry; nine-tenths of it through a wilderness,

where nothing but savages and wild beasts are found, or deserts where,

for want of water, there is no living creature. There, with almost

hopeless labor, we have dug deep wells, which the future traveler will

enjoy. Without a guide who had traversed them, we have ventured into

trackless prairies, where water was not found for several marches. With

crowbar and pickaxe in hand, we have worked our way over mountains,

which seemed to defy aught save the wild goat, and hewed a passage

through a chasm of living rock more narrow than our wagons. To bring

these first wagons to the Pacific, we have preserved the strength of

the mules by herding them over large tracts, which you have laboriously

guarded without loss.

"The garrison of four presidios of Sonora, concentrated within the

walls of Tucson, gave us no pause; we drove them out with their

artillery; but our intercourse with the citizens was unmarked by a

single act of injustice. Thus marching, half naked and half fed, and

living upon wild animals, we have discovered and made a road of great

value to our country.

"Arrived at the first settlement of California, after a single day's

rest, you cheerfully turned off from the route to this point of

promised repose, to enter upon a campaign, and meet, as we believed,

the approach of the enemy; and this, too, without even salt to season

your sole subsistence of fresh meat.

"Lieutenants A.J. Smith and George Stoneman of the First Dragoons, have

shared and given valuable aid in all these labors.

"Thus, volunteers, you have exhibited some high and essential qualities

of veterans. But much remains undone. Soon you will turn your strict

attention to the drill, to system and order, to forms also, which are

all necessary to the soldier.

"By order of Lieutenant-Colonel P. St. George Cooke.

[Signed.] "P. C. Merrill, Adjutant."

It is stated by Sergeant Daniel Tyler, in his "History of the Mormon

Battalion," that February 4th was the date of the reading of the order.

Its spirit and tone were an agreeable surprise to us, as the general

tenor of the colonel's course had been so different, apparently, that

we did not look for him to do the battalion justice. Yet if he had

been less stern and decisive, it would have been worse for us. We had

stern realities to deal with, consequently like means were necessary

to overcome the obstacles we had to contend with. It required push and

vim to enable the battalion to perform the heroic deeds demanded of it,

and a sympathy that would have caused the men to shrink back instead

of seeing that every one stood to his post of duty would have been a

fatal error. After all, Col. P. St. George Cooke was a good military

commander, maintaining excellent military discipline; and for one the

writer feels to say, Peaceful be his sleep.

It was about the 4th or 5th of February when we got back to the

mission, and the order given, with others, was made known. The other

orders included such directions as to trim the hair so that none came

below the tip of the ear, and shave the beard all but the mustache.

We were informed that we had no right to think in acting for

ourselves--that the government paid men to think for us, and it was our

duty to obey orders. We were allowed very little time in which to wash

our rags and hunt down the insects that had waged a continuous warfare

on us all the way from Albuquerque or the Rio Grande del Norte to the

coast; yet we turned on the creeping foe, and never relented till we

routed him, nor showed any quarter till the last one was gone. We also

had to repel an attack from the nimble flea in great numbers, in which

we realized that this impudent insect did not care where he hit.

While we were still living on beef alone, without pepper or salt, we

were ordered out on squad drill, which seemed to continue about eight

hours per day. The reason given for this was the supposed threatened

attack from eight hundred Californians in the mountains; and further,

the rumors that Col. John C. Fremont, with eight hundred or a thousand

men, claimed it was his right, and not Gen. Kearney's, to dictate

to the United States forces in California. In fact, it was reported

that Col. Fremont was in open hostility to Gen. Kearney, who was

military governor of California by orders from Washington. Under these

circumstances, we were kept in constant readiness, not knowing the

moment we would be called into active service.

Our training daily was one hour for each pound of beef issued, the beef

costing less than a cent a pound to the government. Sergeant Tyler says

our rations were five pounds a day, and I say it was not half enough,

for we were ravenously hungry all the time. If the reader doubts this,

let him try the ration for a little while, and doubt will disappear.

About February 25 we obtained bolted flour and some other supplies of

provisions that had been brought from the Sandwich Islands, by Major

Sward, to San Diego, and thence to San Luis del Rey by mule team. In

the meantime we had received a small amount of unbolted flour, brought

by Lieutenant Oman and a small detachment of the battalion sent out for

the purpose. Then the beef rations were reduced; so that during the

whole twelve months' service we did not once have issued to us the full

rations allowed by the government to the American soldier--if we had

full rations in one thing, another was lacking. Either the government

made a great saving from regulations in feeding us, or a steal put

money into some contractors' pockets.

Day after day the duties of soldier were performed, drilling, out on

detached duty, or marching here, there and everywhere, early and late,

by day and by night, just to suit the fancy of some of our officers,

and not always upon real occasion for the movements. It would seem that

in many respects the soldier's life is much like a faithful wife's; and

in others much unlike a woman's work. Like hers, in that the task seems

never done, busy all day and up at every hour of night in response to

calls of first one child, then another, or even to the exploits of

some mischievous cat, her rest broken and her life worn away; unlike

hers, in that she usually has a dry shelter, regular meals, and a

place to lie down when she can rest, while the soldier in time of war

never knows where he will make his bed at night, often is without food

and drink, having to move at the word of command over deserts, rocks,

mountains, plains and rivers--a stranger to the locality he may call

his home. But the toils of both are necessary, she to rear the nation's

pride and strength--a soldier in the right; he to protect her and

himself, to defend their country's rights and avenge her wrongs.

Returning to the narrative of garrison duty, it appeared to me the

hours of drill were more than Sergeant Tyler's account will admit of;

but I shall not dispute with him, as I write from memory. I do recall

that roll call came at daylight, sick call at 7:30 a.m., breakfast call

at 8:40, drill at 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. roll call at sundown, tattoo at

8:30, and taps at 9 p.m., after which lights must be out except in case

of sickness. All must be silent then, as the men are supposed to have

retired for the night.

On or near the 20th of March, companies A, C, D and E took up their

journey to the Puebla de Los Angeles. We traveled over a hilly country,

where there were numerous herds of cattle and bands of horses. In some

places we passed down to and along the sandy beach around big bluffs

over which, so we were told, the Californians, some years previously,

had driven thousands of horses and cattle to rid the country of them,

as they had overrun the place so that all were suffering for food. This

story seemed confirmed by the great amount of bones that we saw among

the rocks and sands at the foot of deep declivities along the seashore.

On the way to Los Angeles we passed a stone church that had been badly

shaken; the walls had been good mason work, but now were mostly broken

down. We were told that an earthquake did the damage, and that some

three hundred people had been killed. On by the San Gabriel River we

went, arriving at Los Angeles in about four days' march from where we

had started out. We marched into the main street and stacked our arms

as if to say, "We have possession here."

Most of the citizens stood aloof, looking as if the cause they had

supported was lost, but soon the merchants brought out buckets of

whisky and wine, which they set before the command, inviting us to help

ourselves. Some accepted the invitation rather freely, while others

refrained from touching the beverages. We returned to the river at

night, and camped. In a day or two we were marched about two miles up

the stream, and above the town, where we again ran out of provisions

and had to go hungry; nor did we break our fast till 11 a.m. next day.

At this time the air was full of alarming rumors. A revolt of Californians

was talked of; then it was Fremont who was said to be in

rebellion against General Kearney's authority; and again, a powerful

band of Indians was ready to pounce down upon us. It was not very

unexpectedly, therefore, that we received orders to occupy the most

commanding point overlooking the town. Soon after this we learned that

a supply of provisions for the command had been landed at San Pedro,

about twenty-one miles distant, and teams and wagons were sent at once,

under an escort of soldiers, the writer being one. We returned next

day, heavily loaded.

About this date, the command began the erection of a fort, or rather

began to throw up earthworks. Lieutenant Rosecranz was ordered with a

small detachment to Cajon Pass, a narrow opening in the Sierra Nevada

range, about eighty miles east of us. The object was to guard the pass

against the advance of any foe, for, as has been said, there were many

rumors of impending danger. In a short time, Lieutenant Pace, with

twenty-nine officers and men of the battalion--the writer being one of

the number--received orders to relieve the detachment of Lieutenant

Rosecranz. Pace's command had just reached the Rosecranz party, finding

the latter in the act of striking camp, when a dispatch came by pony

express ordering us to return as well.

On our march out, the wild cattle, which were there by thousands,

became excited and began to bellow and crowd toward us. We could see

them for miles coming on the run. They closed in quickly until we were

surrounded by them on three sides, with a deep gulch or very brushy

ravine on the fourth. We retreated in double-quick time to this gulch,

and were compelled to remain in what shelter it afforded until the next

day, before we could pass on in safety.

The unsettled state of the country kept us constantly busy. Our fort

was pushed to completion, and we having obtained what artillery Colonel

Fremont had, the twelve or fifteen pieces now in our possession were

placed in proper position for defense. Everything was made as complete

as could be, and the warclouds began to give way. Fremont had been

placed under arrest for insubordination or rebellion, I do not recall

which, and this contributed to the peace of the country.

A Spaniard was hired to haul a liberty pole from San Bernardino Canyon,

a distance of eighty miles, and as he dared not undertake the journey

without a military escort, Corporal Lafayette Shepherd and fourteen

men, among whom the writer was included, were sent to protect the

Spaniard and help get the pole down to the fort. On that trip we camped

on the present site of San Bernardino City, then a wild and lonely

wilderness, with not a house or farm in sight. At that time the country

abounded in wild cattle, bear, and other wild animals.

Just where we came out on the plain we camped for the night, and in the

morning our Spanish friend went out into the hills to see if he could

kill a deer. Soon he came upon a party of Indians jerking beef, and he

shot into their camp. They came out, returned his fire, and gave him

chase. We were getting breakfast when he dashed into our camp, shouting

that the Indians were upon us, and for us to get our guns. Of course,

we complied, and were ready in short order, but as no Indians came, the

Spaniard insisted that we go in and rout them, as they were killing the

citizens' cattle, and our commander had given a promise of protection

from this. Hastily we saddled our mules and started, expecting every

moment to meet the Indians, who were on foot. We found no one before we

came to the campfires, around which was strewn considerable beef. Soon

we discovered the Indians fleeing up the mountain, and on our jaded

mules we gave chase, but when we reached the summit the Indians were

going up the opposite ridge. We dismounted and poured a few volleys

into the brush above them. They did not fire back. I do not think any

harm was done. They were fleeing for their lives and did not show

any opposition to us, and we had no desire to harm them, but simply

to demonstrate to the Californians that as United States soldiers we

were ready to protect them and their property, as was promised by our

officers.

We hastened back to the fort with our charge, the logs in the rough

being about fifty feet each, the two making a pole between ninety and

ninety-five feet long when completed, which was done by the members of

the battalion at the fort.

Another event about this period was an order by Colonel Cooke for a

detail of good marksmen and trusty men to go through the town and shoot

or bayonet all the dogs to be found in the streets. The colonel had

notified the town authorities of his intention. Accordingly the detail

was made and ammunition issued. The writer was one of the trusted

marksmen. We sallied forth in the town of Los Angeles, where the dogs

were more numerous than human beings, and commenced our disagreeable

and deadly work. Muskets rattled in every street and byway, dogs barked

and howled in every direction, and women and children wept to have

the animals spared. But military orders had to be obeyed, for the dog

nuisance had become intolerable. After that, there were sanitary orders

sent forth, and the streets were cleared of the dogs and a great amount

of bones and other rubbish.

With all this cleaning up, there still was tolerated the greater

nuisances of liquor drinking, gambling, the most lewd and obscene

conduct that could be imagined, Sabbath breaking by horse racing, cock

and bull righting, men righting and knifing one another--indeed, the

Sabbath was the greater day for all these vices.

Bull fighting was carried on inside of a square of one to four acres

surrounded by one-story adobe flat-roofed houses, on which spectators

would climb, and thus have an excellent view of the whole exhibition

of cruelty and bravado and jeopardy to life. Numbers of the wildest

and most ferocious bulls were taken, and were brought into the arena

one at a time. The animal was turned loose, and a man would tease him

into fury with a sharp lance. A horseman would charge and make thrust

after thrust at the maddened bull, striving to pierce him just behind

the horns, the aim being to cut the pith of the spinal column at that

point. If this were done, the animal would fall dead on the spot. As

a general thing, the bull was more apt to gore the rider's horse, and

give the rider himself a very close call; but a number of very expert

horsemen were kept in readiness to lasso the bull or cast a blanket

over his eyes and thus blindfold him until his tormentor got out of

danger. In this cruel sport many horses were sacrificed, and sometimes

the riders as well. It was not an unusual thing for a hundred or more

of these wild bulls to be collected at a time, and the bloody sport to

be kept up three or four days and perhaps more. Sometimes a grizzly

bear would be captured and turned loose with a wild bull, the death

of one and perhaps both being the result. The whole populace seemed

to enjoy this cruel sport, shouting and screaming thereat all the day

long. Males and females, of all ages and conditions, met on a common

level to witness this wild and reckless amusement.

Horse racing took place on the principal streets. One popular part of

this pastime was to secure an old male chicken; this was buried all but

the head in a hole in the street, the soil being packed in as tight as

could be and have the bird live. An Indian stood by to rebury the fowl

as fast as the horsemen resurrected him by seizing him by the head when

riding past at full speed. The aim was to swoop down, seize the cock's

head, pull the bird out of the hole, and hold to the head to the end of

the contest, which was indulged in by a dozen or more. When one rider

tore the bird from the hole all the others would charge on him and try

to capture it. The possessor would strike right and left, to hold his

prize, until the poor fowl was torn to pieces. Often the bird fell to

the ground alive, was buried again, and some one else would lead in

the dash for it. Just before the rider reached the fowl, a horseman

on either side would lash the horse unmercifully, so that the rider

could not slow up to get a better chance at the exposed head. This game

would be continued till some one carried the fowl's head to the end in

triumph.

It was said that a scheme existed to draw the attention of the

Americans during the most exciting of these sports, and then raid our

camp; but if this ever was thought of it failed, for with us everything

was kept in readiness for an emergency, and sometimes we lay at night

with loaded muskets and fixed bayonets. Besides, we had become very

proficient in military tactics, and every man had learned well his duty

as a soldier.

The fort having been completed, and every reasonable anticipation for

surprise in the return of the Mexican forces or for an uprising having

been cut off, on the morning of the Fourth of July, 1847, the Stars and

Stripes was hoisted on the pole in triumph, and floated in the breezes

from the Pacific Ocean--I think the first time that glorious banner

waved from a liberty pole in California, although Commodore Sloat had

raised the American flag at Monterey on July 7, 1846.

CHAPTER XII.

TERM OF ENLISTMENT EXPIRES--BATTALION MEMBERS PREPARING TO RETURN TO

THEIR FAMILIES--ONE COMPANY RE-ENLISTS--AN INSOLENT SPANIARD--PISTOL

SNAPPED IN THE WRITER'S FACE--ALMOST A DEATHBLOW--DESPERATE FIGHT

STOPPED BY BYSTANDERS--SERIOUS TROUBLE WITH ANOTHER SPANIARD--LEARN

THE LESSON TO AVOID THOSE WHO GAMBLE OR DRINK INTOXICANTS--SPANISH

CHARACTER--CLASS OF CALIFORNIA'S INHABITANTS IN 1847--CONDITION OF THE

COUNTRY--APPEARANCE OF THE TOWNS AND VILLAGES--DIFFICULTY IN SECURING

AN OUTFIT FOR MEMBERS OF THE BATTALION TO JOURNEY EASTWARD.

THE members of the Mormon Battalion had been purchasing horses and

mules and a general outfit for a return to our friends at the close

of our term of enlistment, which was drawing nigh. At the same time,

Col. Stephenson, of the New York volunteers, and other commissioned

officers, were making strenuous efforts to have us re-enlist for

another twelve months, or six months at least, telling us they had

authority to impress us if they chose, but they preferred to have us

come as volunteers. It had been reported that although the Californians

had been whipped, there was not concord, and that as soon as the Mormon

Battalion left the country the Californians would revolt and make an

effort to overthrow United States supremacy; but while we remained

there was no fear.

Now, as there were many of the battalion who had spent all their

wages--ninety-six dollars for their year's service--it may have

appeared to them that the only thing to do was to re-enlist. Horses

could be purchased cheaply, and provisions were not high, but some

money was needed. Consequently, one company re-enlisted under Capt.

Davis of company E, while the rest of the command were busy preparing

for their journey east to meet the Saints somewhere, they knew not just

where.

Comparatively few of our command had acquired sufficient knowledge

of the Spanish language to do their own trading, and these acted as

interpreters for their comrades. The writer happened to be one of

the few who had made some success in picking up the language. On one

occasion, when hunting the town and adjacent country for such articles

as we needed in our outfit, he became fatigued and went into a cafe

for a cup of coffee. On entering the restaurant he found, besides the

landlord, three or four good-appearing Spaniards, who soon began to

question him about the United States and its people. Their questions

were being answered in a courteous manner, when the attendant, who was

a tall, fine-looking Spaniard, interposed with the remark that America

was a fine country, but her soldiers were cowards and babies. The

writer was alone, and scarcely knew how to treat the insult; besides,

there was a possibility that it was intended as a joke. Therefore, he

felt that it would be improper to be too abrupt in replying, and said,

quietly, that America was a good country and her soldiers were the

bravest of the brave.

At that moment the Spanish-Californian stepped back and brought out

an American hat that had been cut through on the side by some sharp

instrument. Said he: "Here is one's hat--I killed him in battle. He

was a great baby." Reaching back, he brought out a dragoon's sword and

a holster, with two iron-mounted U. S. pistols. His eyes flashed, and

he mimicked the dying soldier, saying all the Americans were cowards.

My blood was up, and I taunted him by asking him how it was, if the

Americans were such cowards and babies, and fled from the Spaniards on

the battlefield, that the Americans had taken the country. Pointing to

the Stars and Stripes floating over the fort on the hill, I said, "That

shows where the brave men are; it is the Californians who are cowards

and babies." In an instant a pistol was snapped in my face, and I saw

the fire roll from the flintlock. Quick as a flash, I caught a heavy

knife that was handy, leaped on to the counter, and was bringing the

weapon down on the head of my assailant, when both of us were seized by

bystanders, and were disarmed. I started for camp, but was dragged back

to compromise the affair. When I re-entered the room the proprietor

was priming his weapon with mustard seed. He said it was all fun, and

we should make up. The spectators were anxious to settle, and offered

to treat. Some of the Spaniards expressed regret at the occurrence.

The matter was dropped, though I never was convinced that that Spanish

attendant did not have murder in his heart.

On another occasion I had an unpleasant experience with another

Spaniard. It was when I was on guard duty at the prison in Los Angeles.

A very large, well dressed Spaniard came across the street from a

drinking saloon and gambling den. He wore a large sombrero worth about

eight dollars. He had been gambling and drinking, but was not drunk.

Said he, "I have lost all my money, and I want to leave this hat with

you for four dollars. If I do not bring the money back, you may keep

the hat; it is worth eight dollars, and will sell for that any day."

His offer was rejected, when he showed some displeasure, again

urging the loan, and promising to bring the money back in a short time.

Finally he prevailed, left the hat and took the money.

In two or three hours the Spaniard returned, saying he wanted his

sombrero, at the same time promising to bring the money next day. Of

course this proposition was rejected, whereupon he showed considerable

temper, but at last said it was all right, he would find the money; and

added, "Come over to the saloon and have a drink of wine, and we will

be good friends." Thinking that would settle the matter, I complied

with his request. He had on a long Spanish sarapa, or blanket, and as

we neared the door he stepped ahead, leaned over the counter, and said

something to the bartender. As I entered the door I was again asked for

the hat, and he in turn was requested to hand over the money. He grew

angry, threatened, and finally challenged me to fight. As I squared off

to meet his impending assault, the Spaniard drew a large bowie knife

for a thrust at me, but was stopped by some bystanders. I was at the

time nineteen years of age, and my young blood was thoroughly aroused.

I rushed for my musket, which was loaded and had bayonet fixed, and

with the hurting end foremost I was quickly back at the saloon,

forcibly declaring my readiness for the conflict. The bystanders closed

in and called for peace, the four dollars was soon raised, and the

sombrero found its way back into the hands of its angry owner, who

displayed considerable effect of the liquor he had been drinking. But I

learned an impressive lesson, namely, to avoid the companionship of men

who drink intoxicants or who follow games of chance for a livelihood.

Even if a man does not indulge himself, those who do are liable to

ask favors, and if these are not granted the next thing is insult,

which often ends in bloodshed, or did in those days in California. In

illustration of the light estimate of human life, I can recall a man's

foot being kicked about the street, and no more notice being taken of

it than if it were an animal's.

As to Spanish character, the writer can say from a close acquaintance

that when the Spaniards are sober and friendly, they are very friendly,

hospitable and polite, being very good company; in fact, we seldom

met with a more wholesouled and agreeable people. Yet it is doubtful

if there are any people who will resent an insult quicker and more

seriously than they will. They are brave and manly; yet those who are

of mixed blood, such as the Greasers, are low, degraded, treacherous

and cruel. In California there were a few of the higher class, many

more of a medium kind, and still more of the lower class; so that in

summing up the total of California's inhabitants in 1846-7, the country

was only half civilized and thinly inhabited.

At that time the country was wild, being overrun with wilder horses,

cattle, sheep and goats. In places, wild oats and mustard abounded,

in many sections the mustard being as high as a man's head when on

horseback, and so dense that a horse could be forced only a few

feet through it. In the foothills and mountains wild game was very

abundant, consisting of elk, deer, bear, and smaller game. Along the

water courses and on the lakes waterfowl was plentiful. There were

millions of acres of uncultivated land, as good as any on the globe.

The climate is scarcely equalled anywhere. The chief products of the

soil then were wheat, barley, beans, peas, apples, peaches, plums,

apricots, pears, dates, figs, olives, grapes, black pepper, spices,

and many fruits not named here. These all seemed to grow very near to

perfection, especially when properly cared for. The greater part of

the labor was performed by native Indians, and that too with the most

primitive tools. The buildings were low, being one-story adobe, with

flat roofs covered with cement, or a natural tar that exuded from the

earth; sometimes tile was used, but I do not remember seeing one brick

building or shingle roof in all the land.

Under the conditions which existed, it was no easy matter for a hundred

and fifty men to get an outfit together to travel over the mountains

east, as that number of the battalion intended to do; but having

commenced before we were discharged from service--say some time in

June--to purchase our horses, saddles, and everything necessary for a

pack train, we were partly prepared for the journey when the day came

for us to be mustered out.

CHAPTER XIII.

MORMON BATTALION MUSTERED OUT OF SERVICE--ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY

MEMBERS ORGANIZE TO RETURN EAST TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS--START ON THE

JOURNEY--DIFFICULTIES OF THE ROUTE--DEALING WITH WILD HORSES AND

CATTLE--STAMPEDE OF A PACK ANIMAL--CHASE INTO AN INDIAN CAMP--LOST ALL

NIGHT IN A SWAMP--SUFFERING ON THE DESERT FOR LACK OF WATER--ARRIVE

NEAR SUTTER'S FORT--ON THE SITE OF SACRAMENTO--PARTY DECIDE TO REMAIN

OVER FOR THE YEAR, AND OBTAIN EMPLOYMENT--MEET CAPT. J. A. SUTTER AND

JAMES W. MARSHALL--PROPOSITION TO CAPT. SUTTER--ENGAGED TO WORK ON

A SAWMILL--PROCEEDINGS AT THE MILLSITE--MILL STARTED UP--THE WRITER

ENGAGED TO DIRECT INDIANS LABORING AT THE TAIL RACE--CONVERSATION WITH

MR. MARSHALL--MARSHALL TALKS ABOUT FINDING GOLD--HE AND THE WRITER MAKE

A SEARCH FOR GOLD, BUT FINDING NONE, DEFER THE INVESTIGATION TILL NEXT

MORNING--MARSHALL'S FAITH IN HIS BEING SUCCESSFUL IN DISCOVERING THE

PRECIOUS METAL.

ON the 16th of July, 1847, the close of the Mormon Battalion's term of

enlistment, we were called into line, and an officer passed along as in

ordinary inspection. Then, without further ceremony, he said. "You are

discharged." I do not think one-half of the command heard him, he spoke

so low. Some of us thought he may have felt ashamed because of his

conduct toward us on our march to Santa Fe. He was the little bigot,

Lieutenant A. J. Smith.

Thus we bade adieu to United States military authority and returned

to the ranks of civil life. One hundred and fifty of us organized

ourselves into hundreds, fifties and tens, and were soon on our way

to meet our friends somewhere, as we supposed, in the Rocky Mountains

east; and still we did not know just where. We sought information as

best we could, and the most that we could learn was that by following

under the base of the Sierra Nevada range six hundred miles we would

come to Sutter's Fort, where we could obtain further information as to

the best route to where we supposed we would find our friends.

It was about the 20th of July when the first company moved out on the

intended journey; and in three or four days the remaining hundred

followed. We passed Gen. Pico's ranch about twenty miles northward,

and from there crossed over a mountain so high and steep that it made

our heads swim, and it was with difficulty that we could sit on our

horses. In places, it was impossible for us to dismount, for lack of

room. Two mules lost their footing and fell twenty-five or thirty feet

before they could regain a foothold, and it was very hard work to get

them back on the trail. We traveled some eighteen or twenty miles from

Pico's ranch to Francisco ranch, where we joined the fifty who had

preceded the main body, and were waiting for us to come up.

A meeting was held, at which it was decided to purchase forty or fifty

beef cattle, which was done at not to exceed four dollars per head. The

course of our journey from this time was northward. The country where

we were traveling was a wilderness of hill and dale, deep gorges, and

brush, so that the first two days we lost ten or fifteen head of beef

cattle. It was decided to make sure of the remainder by slaughtering

and jerking or curing the beef, and next morning there came a battle

with the cattle, which had become wild and ferocious, plunging at the

men on horseback everywhere, so we had to shoot them down as best we

could. After stopping two or three days to jerk the beef, we proceeded

on our journey.

Many of our horses were bronchos, or wild, when we purchased them, and

gave us much trouble. The packs would get loose and turn under the

animals, which would run and kick, scattering things as they went.

One day Alexander Stephens, William Garner and I had a horse stampede

with its burden. I gave pursuit, and as I had no thought of anything

but capturing the animal, I chased it about three miles, right into

an Indian camp. The Indians must have seen me coming and fled. Their

fires were burning, pots boiling, and camp equipage laid around. From

appearances there must have been fifteen to twenty families; their

tracks were thick and fresh. The runaway horse seems to have been

so excited that, like its pursuer, it ran in among the camp before

observing the danger; then it turned and I secured it with a lasso.

At that moment I recognized the peril of my own position, in the

possibility of being ambushed by Indians. It may be needless to state

that I got out of that place in a hurry; although I had lost sight of

the camp and was confused for a little time till I found my trail.

Upon returning, I met my two comrades, who had had all they could do

to take care of the other pack animals, and were very anxious about

me. It was getting late in the day, and the company had passed out of

sight. We followed as fast as we could, but darkness overtook us and

we soon found ourselves wandering in the bullrushes and marshes of the

east end of Tulare Lake. Turn which way we would we could not find any

trail out. At last we found a spot more solid than the surroundings;

we halted and felt around in the darkness; every way we went it was

mud and water. The night was so dark that we could not see each other

or the horses, and finally we tied the animals together so we could

hold them, took off the pack, and waited around till daylight. I do not

think either of us slept fifteen minutes that night. We had nothing to

make a fire with, and if we had, it would not have been wise to have

attracted savage Indians with one. Early in the morning we prepared to

seek a way out, and to our surprise, discovered close by a bullrush

boat which an aged Indian was pushing through the rushes. The boat had

been made by twisting and braiding the rushes together, and reminded us

of what the prophet says about embassadors going forth in vessels of

bullrushes. We could not learn from whence the Indian came or whither

he was going, nor yet his errand. We bade him good day, and soon found

the trail of our company. After going three or four miles, we met some

of our men who had been sent in search of us; they had passed the night

in great anxiety concerning our safety. Thankfully we reached the camp

to have a bite of food and proceed on our journey, grateful that we yet

had our hair on the top of our heads, where the darkey says; "the wool

ought to grow."

Our journey took us over cold mountain streams, some of which we

forded, carrying our baggage on our heads and making from three to five

trips each way; others we built rafts for, by tying dry logs together

with our lash-ropes, piling them with baggage, and drawing them over

or pushing them with poles, the men swimming their horses and often

themselves. These streams were quite numerous. Among those I remember

were the Tulare, the San Joaquin River, and others. The crossing of

these streams was hard on man and beast, the water being cold close to

the mountains, and the work hazardous owing to the rapid currents and

boulders in the channels of the rivers. On this journey we were two

days on dry plains, and suffered almost to death; some of our horses

became so thirsty that their eyes turned white as milk and blind as

bats; they staggered against anything they came to. Some of the men

gave out entirely, and if it had not been for some of the stronger men

and horses that pushed forward and then returned to aid the others,

many of the latter never would have been able to have reached camp. Men

had their tongues swollen and eyes sunken and glazed; some could not

drink water when it was brought to them, until their lips and mouths

had been bathed and some of the liquid poured into their throats.

Fortunately for the writer, he was one of the stronger ones who went

ahead and returned to his comrades the last day on the desert; the

scene was terrible beyond the powers of description.

Fully five hundred and fifty miles of that journey was made without

seeing a house, or a white woman or child. There were many Indians

and their ranches, but the savages gave us no particular trouble. We

pressed forward till August 26, when we came to the American River,

two miles above Sutter's Fort and about a mile and a half from the

Sacramento River, at the point where the city of Sacramento now stands.

The locality was then a forest of cottonwood timber and undergrowth.

When we reached the vicinity of Sutter's Fort a consultation was held,

at which it was decided that most of the party would remain until

next year, and obtain employment where they could. Captain John A.

Sutter and James Marshall contemplated building a gristmill and also a

sawmill, but had no skilled workmen to perform the task. Accordingly,

a committee was appointed from our number, who informed Captain

Sutter that we had among us carpenters, blacksmiths, wheelwrights,

millwrights, farmers and common laborers; that we were in need of

horses, cattle, and a general outfit for crossing the mountains early

the next summer, and that if we could not get all money for our pay

we would take part in supplies for our journey; the committee also

inquired what the prospect for employment was. Captain Sutter gave the

committee encouragement, and asked them to call on him again in two or

three days.

The result was, that between August 29 and September 5, from forty to

sixty of us called on Captain Sutter. Some were employed to work on the

gristmill; others took contracts on the mill race. The race was seven

or eight miles long, and was also intended for irrigation.

Between the 8th and the 11th of September, Alexander Stephens, James

Berger and the writer started for the site that had been selected by

Mr. Marshall for the sawmill; we were the first Mormons to arrive at

the place. Peter L. Wimmer and family and William Scott had preceded

us a few days, having two wagons loaded with tools and provisions; the

teams were oxen, and were driven by two of Captain Sutter's civilized

Indians. Some weeks after we went up, Henry W. Bigler, Azariah Smith,

William Johnston, and Israel Evans, members of the Mormon Battalion,

came to the camp.

Upon our arrival at the millsite, work was begun in earnest. The cabin

was finished, a second room being put on in true frontier style. While

some worked on the cabin, others were getting out timbers and preparing

for the erection of the sawmill. The site was at a point where the

river made considerable of a bend, just in the bank of what appeared to

be an old river bed, which was lowered to carry the water from the mill.

Between January 15th and 20th, 1848, the mill was started up. It was

found that it had been set too low, and the tail race would not carry

off the water, which would drown or kill the flutter wheel. To remedy

this defect, several new pieces of timber were needed, and all hands

were put to work within ten or fifteen rods of the tail race, getting

out the timbers.

Part of the time I was engaged in directing the labors of a gang of

Digger Indians, as I had picked up sufficient of their dialect to make

them understand me clearly. It had been customary to hoist the gates of

the forebay when we quit work in the evening, letting the water through

the race to wash away the loosened sand and gravel, then close them

down in the morning. The Indians were employed to dig and cast out the

cable rock that was not moved by the water.

On January 23, I had turned away from the Indians and was with the

white men. Mr. Marshall came along to look over the work in general,

and went to where the tail race entered the river. There he discovered

a bed of rock that had been exposed by the water the night before, the

portion in view in the bottom of the race being three to six feet wide

and fifteen to twenty feet long. Mr. Marshall called me to him as he

examined the bed of the race, and said: "This is a curious rock; I am

afraid it will give us trouble." Then he probed a little further, and

added: "I believe it contains minerals of some kind, and I believe

there is gold in these hills."

At this statement I inquired, "What makes you think so?" He answered

that he had seen blossom of gold, and upon my asking where, he said it

was the white quartz scattered over the hills; on my inquiring further

as to what quartz was, he told me it was the white, flint-like rock so

plentiful on the hills. I said it was flint rock, but he said no, it

was called quartz in some book he had read, and was an indication of

gold. He sent me to the cabin for a pan to wash the sand and gravel,

and see what we could find. I went to a cabin which had been built near

the millsite by Alexander Stephens, Henry W. Bigler, James Berger,

Azariah Smith, William Johnston and myself, and in which we were doing

our own cooking. I brought the pan and we washed some of the bedrock

that we had scaled up with a pick. As we had no idea of the appearance

of gold in its natural state, our search was unsuccessful.

Mr. Marshall was determined to investigate further, but it was no use

that night. He rose and said: "We will hoist the gates and turn in all

the water that we can tonight, and tomorrow morning we will shut it

off and come down here, and I believe we will find gold or some other

mineral here."

CHAPTER XIV.

ARRIVAL OF MEMBERS OF THE MORMON BATTALION AT SUTTER'S FORT OPENS THE

WAY FOR THE DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA--JAMES W. MARSHALL OUT

EARLY ON JANUARY 24, 1848--"HE IS GOING TO FIND A GOLD MINE"--REGARDED

AS A "NOTIONAL" MAN--"BOYS, I HAVE GOT HER NOW!"--TESTING THE SCALES

OF METAL--"GOLD, BOYS, GOLD!"--FIRST PROCLAMATION OF THE GREAT GOLD

DISCOVERY--SECOND AND THIRD TESTS--ALL EXCITEMENT--THREE OR FOUR

OUNCES OF GOLD GATHERED--AGREE TO KEEP THE DISCOVERY SECRET--FIND

THE PRECIOUS METAL FARTHER DOWN THE STREAM--HOW THE SECRET LEASED

OUT--MORE DISCOVERIES--FIRST PUBLICATION OF THE NEWS MADE IN A

MORMON PAPER--WASHING OUT THE METAL--FIRST GOLD ROCKER--GATHERING

GOLD--PART TAKEN BY MR. MARSHALL, THE MORMONS AND CAPTAIN SUTTER IN

THE DISCOVERY--MISFORTUNES OF SUTTER AND MARSHALL--ACCOUNT OF THE GOLD

DISCOVERY CERTIFIED TO BY SEVERAL EYE WITNESSES.

IT is my understanding that when Captain Sutter and Mr. Marshall

were contemplating the erection of the two mills, an apparently

insurmountable obstacle confronted them in the inability to get and

pay for the skilled labor necessary for portions of the work. This

obstacle was removed by the proposition our committee had made to

Captain Sutter at the first interview; and in the two or three days'

time asked in August, 1847, by the captain, a decision was reached to

go ahead. Therefore, if it had not been for the opportune appearance of

the mustered-out members of the Mormon Battalion, the sawmill would not

have been built that winter, nor would the discovery of gold have been

made at that time. But for the action of those Mormons in connection

with the enterprise proposed by Captain Sutter and Mr. Marshall, in

offering the desired class of labor upon the terms they did, the state

of California might have waited indefinitely to have been developed and

to be christened the Golden State, and the entrance to the bay of San

Francisco might never have received the title of the Golden Gate.

Resuming the narrative of my association with Mr. Marshall on the

afternoon of January 23rd, I will state further that each of us went

our way for the night, and did not meet again till next morning. I

thought little of what Marshall had said of finding gold, as he was

looked on as rather a "notional" kind of man; I do not think I even

mentioned his conversation to my associates. At an unusually early hour

in the morning, however, those of us who occupied the cabin heard a

hammering at the mill. "Who is that pounding so early?" was asked, and

one of our party looked out and said it was Marshall shutting the gates

of the forebay down. This recalled to my mind what Mr. Marshall had

said to me the evening before, and I remarked, "Oh, he is going to find

a gold mine this morning."

A smile of derision stole over the faces of the parties present. We ate

our breakfast and went to work. James Berger and myself went to the

whipsaw, and the rest of the men some eight or ten rods away from the

mill. I was close to the mill and sawpit, and was also close to the

tail race, where I could direct the Indians who were there.

This was the 24th day of January, 1848. When we had got partly to work,

Mr. Marshall came, with his old wool hat in his hand. He stopped within

six or eight yards of the sawpit, and exclaimed, "Boys, I have got her

now!" Being the nearest to him, and having more curiosity than the

rest of the men, I jumped from the pit and stepped to him. On looking

into his hat I discovered ten or twelve pieces or small scales of what

proved to be gold. I picked up the largest piece, worth about fifty

cents, and tested it with my teeth; as it did not give, I held it aloft

and exclaimed, "Gold, boys, gold!" At that, all dropped their tools

and gathered around Mr. Marshall. Having made the first proclamation

of the very important fact that the metal was gold, I stepped to the

work bench and put it to the second test with the hammer. As I was

doing this it occurred to me that while en route to California with the

Mormon Battalion, we came to some timber called manzanita. Our guides

and interpreters said the wood was what the Mexicans smelted their gold

and silver ores with. It is a hard wood and makes a very hot fire, and

also burns a long time. Remembering that we had left a very hot bed of

these coals in the fireplace of the cabin, I hurried there and made the

third test by placing the metal upon the point of an old shovel blade,

and then inserted it in among the coals. I blew the coals until I was

blind for the moment, in trying to burn or melt the particles; and

although these were plated almost as thin as a sheet of note paper, the

heat did not change their appearance in the least. I remembered hearing

that gold could not be burned up, so I arose from this third test,

confident that what had been found was gold. Running out to the party

still grouped together, I made the second proclamation, saying, "Gold,

gold!"

At this juncture all was excitement. We repaired to the lower end of

the tail race, where we found from three to six inches of water flowing

over the bed of rock, in which there were crevices and little pockets,

over which the water rippled in the glare of the sunlight as that shone

over the mountain peaks. James Berger was the first man to espy a scale

of the metal. He stooped to pick it up, and found some difficulty in

getting hold of it, as his fingers would blur the water, but he finally

succeeded. The next man to find a piece was H. W. Bigler; he used his

jack-knife, getting the scale on the point of the blade, then, with his

forefinger over it placed it in his left hand.

As soon as we learned how to look for it, since it glittered under the

water in the rays of the sun, we were all rewarded with a few scales.

Each put his mite into a small phial that was provided by Marshall, and

we made him the custodian. We repeated our visits to the tail race for

three or four mornings, each time collecting some of the precious metal

until we had gathered somewhere between three and four ounces.

The next move was to step and stake off two quarter sections, beginning

at the mill, one running down the river and the other up. Then we

cut and hauled logs and laid the foundation of a cabin on each of

them; one was for Sutter, the other for Marshall. This matter being

finished, Mr. Marshall was prepared to dictate terms to us, for every

tool and all the provisions in that part of the country belonged to

Sutter and Marshall. They had full control, and we were depending on

the completion of the mill for our pay. Marshall said that if we would

stay by him until the mill was completed and well stocked with logs, he

would supply us with provisions and tools, and would grant us the first

right to work on their gold claims. We all assented to his proposition,

and also agreed that we would not disclose the secret of the gold

discovery until we learned more about it and had made good our claims.

Not having the remotest idea of the extent of the gold deposits, we

pushed the mill as rapidly as possible; for as yet we had not received

one dollar's pay for our four months' labor.

Soon there came a rainy day, when it was too wet to work. H. W. Bigler

thought it a good day to hunt ducks, so he put on an old coat, and was

gone all day. When he returned, we said, "Where are your ducks?"

He said, "Wait a while, I will show you; I have got them all right."

Finally he drew an old cotton handkerchief from his pocket; in the

corner of it he had at least half an ounce of gold tied up. For a while

all were excited, and he was asked a great many questions like the

following: "Did you find it on Sutter's claim along the river?" "How

far is it from here?" "All in one place?" "Is there any more?" "How did

you get it, you had no pick or shovel?" "Can you find the place again?"

He replied that he had found it down below Sutter's claim, along the

river where the bedrock cropped out along the bank, and in little rills

that came down the hills to the river, indeed, everywhere that he found

the bedrock cropping out.

"Then you found it in more than one place?"

"Yes, more than a dozen."

It was now proposed that we keep this discovery a secret, as the

discovery in the race had been kept. So the mill work was pushed with

vigor to completion. But in the meantime Marshall had felt it his duty

to inform his partner of the discovery. Accordingly, he wrote a letter

stating the facts, and sent me out to find a strange Indian who would

take it to Captain Sutter, fearing that if he sent it by someone who

was acquainted with the circumstances the secret might leak out. About

this time Wm. Johnston found that he had some urgent business below and

must go there, and did so; he went to the gristmill and along the camps

on that mill race. Then somehow or other the bag came untied and our

old cat and all the kittens ran out, and to the camps they went, until

everybody heard of the gold discovery. But, like all great truths,

people were slow to believe the story.

In a short time, however, Sidney S. S. Willis and Wilford Hudson, whose

curiosity had been aroused, began to feel that they would like a little

venison; and with that for an excuse they took their guns and set out

on foot, having been assured that by following up the river they would

come to the sawmill, which they succeeded in doing the first day. I

think it was only a thirty-five miles journey. I believe they stayed

one day and two nights with us; then, after a thorough examination of

the bedrock, sand and gravel, and the surroundings, they gathered a few

specimens, among which was one nugget worth about five dollars--the

largest by long odds that had been discovered up to that time.

As Willis and Hudson passed back on their way home, they discovered

a small ravine or creek in which there was some of the same kind of

bedrock which they had seen at the mill race, and by picking around

in the sand and gravel they discovered quite a rich prospect. That

was just above what was afterwards called Mormon Island, about twelve

or fifteen miles above the gristmill, and about the same distance

below the sawmill. Then they returned to the mill, told their story,

and showed the specimens to the boys. Some of these went to Sutter's

Fort, to a little grocery store kept by a Mormon named Smith, who came

around Cape Horn to California by the ship Brooklyn. The story of the

find was told, and specimens exhibited to Smith, who wrote to Samuel

Brannan. The latter was publishing a paper in San Francisco at the

time; and from that press the news went forth to the world. Brannan was

a Mormon Elder, and the press was owned by a company of Mormons who had

sailed from New York around Cape Horn, and were presided over by Samuel

Brannan.

From one hundred to one hundred and fifty Mormons flocked to Mormon

Island; then people from every part of the United States followed, and

the search for gold commenced in earnest. With jack, butcher, and table

knives, the search was made in the crevices, after stripping the soil

from the bedrock with pick and shovel. Next, we conceived the idea of

washing the sand and fine gravel in tin pans, but these were scarce

and hard to get hold of. Alexander Stephens dug out a trough, leaving

the bottom round like a log. He would fill that with sand and gravel

that we scraped off the bedrock, and would shake it, having arranged it

so as to to pour or run water on the gravel; finally he commenced to

rock the trough, which led to the idea of a rocker. His process caused

the gold to settle at the bottom; then he arranged the apparatus on an

incline so that the gold would work down and also to the lower end of

the trough. At short intervals he would turn what was collected into a

tub of water, and at night it would be cleaned and weighed on a pair of

wooden scales that Stephens made also, using silver coins for weights,

counting the silver dollar equal to one ounce of gold. This rocker led

to the renowned gold rocker; I am under the impression that Stephens

made the first rocker ever used in California.

The next and last process that we used in gathering gold was to spread

a sheet on the sandy beach of the river, placing some big rocks on the

corners and sides to keep it well stretched. We then would fill in the

rich dirt on the upper edge, and throw on water to wash the dirt down

into the river, leaving the gold on the sheet. Occasionally we took

up the sheet and dipped it into a tub of water, washing the gold off

the sheet into the tub. At night we would clean up our day's work,

averaging from twelve to fifteen dollars each. Our best paying dirt was

carried on our shoulders from Dry Gulch, fifteen to sixty rods to where

we could find water to wash it. We made buckskin pouches or wallets to

carry the gold in; it was not dust, nor yet nuggets, but small scales.

Sutter's capital and enterprise and Marshall's shrewd sagacity have

been given the credit of the great gold discovery in California. The

facts are, that James W. Marshall discovered the first color; in less

than an hour six Mormons found color as well, and within six weeks

Mormons had discovered it in hundreds of places that Mr. Marshall had

never seen, the most notable of which was Mormon Island, to where the

first rush was made, and from where the news was spread to the world.

As to Sutter's enterprise and capital, he furnished the graham flour

and mutton, wheat and peas, black coffee and brown sugar, teams and

tools, while we, the members of the Mormon Battalion, did the hard

labor that discovered the metal. It is also true that we were in

Sutter's employ at that date, and that we did not get paid for our

labor. I worked one hundred days for the firm, and never received a

farthing for it. I heard a number of other men say they never got their

pay. It was our labor that developed the find, and not Marshall's and

Sutter's, and we were never paid for it; when we went for a settlement

we were told by Captain Sutter that he could not settle with us, for

his bookkeeper had gone to the mines, and his books were not posted. He

cursed Marshall and the mines, and declared that he was a ruined man;

that the discovery was his ruin, for it had drawn off his laborers and

left everything to go to rack, and that he was being robbed.

I do not wish it to be understood that I charge Sutter and Marshall

with being dishonorable, for I do not. I think they were honorable men

in a business way. The fact is, they were completely overrun with all

classes of people, and were confused, so that the people took advantage

of them, their business was undermined, and there was a general

collapse of their affairs and of every industry and business. The cry

was, "Gold! Gold! More Gold! Away to the gold fields!" Every other

enterprise was sacrificed in the rush for gold.

With due respect to Captain John A. Sutter and James W. Marshall,

to whom the world has given the credit for the great gold find, I

believe that if they had been taken out and shot to death the day of

the discovery, they would have suffered less, and would have met their

Maker just as pure, if not more honored in this world, than to have

lived and endured what they did. As far as I am concerned, I say peace

to their remains, for on this earth they have been greatly wronged, if

I have read their history correctly. Like a lynching scrape where there

is an outburst of the people, it is very difficult to find those who

are responsible for the crime. Regarding the wrongs did these men, it

seemed as if the whole population of that locality picked on them.

I will add here, that my account of the gold discovery in California

was submitted in 1893 to the following members of the party who were at

the place in January, 1848, and who were the only survivors within my

reach at the time: Orrin Hatch and William S. Muir, Woods Cross, Davis

County; George W. Boyd, and H. D. Merrill, Salt Lake City; and Israel

Evans, Lehi, Utah County, Utah. They united in giving me a certificate

that they knew this account to be a true and correct statement of the

discovery of gold in California, at Sutter's mill race.

CHAPTER XV.

PREPARE TO LEAVE CALIFORNIA--SNOW IN THE MOUNTAIN--CAUSES A WAIT

TILL THE LAST OF JUNE--DISCOVER A RICH GOLD PROSPECT--LEAVE IT TO

MAKE THE JOURNEY OVER THE MOUNTAINS--NO REGRETS AT ABANDONING THE

MINES IN ANSWER TO THE CALL OF DUTY--CAMP ORGANIZED IN PLEASANT

VALLEY--START ON THE TRIP--THREE MEMBERS OF THE PARTY AHEAD, LOOKING

OUT THE ROUTE, FOUND MURDERED MY INDIANS AT TRAGEDY SPRINGS--COVERING

THE BODIES--STAMPEDE OF ANIMALS--GUARDING AGAINST HOSTILE

INDIANS--CROSSING THE DIVIDE IN SNOW--THE WRITER FOOLED--TAKE TWO

INDIANS PRISONERS--CUTTING A ROAD--HORSES STOLEN BY INDIANS--PURSUIT

TO CAPTURE THEM--IN CARSON VALLEY--ALONG HUMBOLDT RIVER--AT STEAMBOAT

SPRINGS--OVER THE DESERT--MEMBER OF THE PARTY WANTS TO KILL

INDIANS--THE WRITER'S EMPHATIC OBJECTION--INDIANS WOUND STOCK--ADDISON

PRATT AS A LUCKY FISHERMAN--WRITER TRADES WITH AN INDIAN--THE RED

MAN'S TRICK--WRITER PURSUES HIM INTO THE INDIAN CAMP--ESCAPE FROM

DANGER--JOURNEY TO BEAR RIVER--HOT AND COLD WATER SPRINGS--REACH BOX

ELDER--VIEW THE GREAT SALT LAKE--ARRIVE AT OGDEN, WHERE CAPTAIN BROWN

AND SOME SAINTS HAD SETTLED--JOURNEY TO THE MORMON CAMP ON WHAT IS NOW

PIONEER SQUARE, SALT LAKE CITY--HEARTILY WELCOMED BY RELATIVES AND

FRIENDS--REJOICING AND THANKSGIVING.

IN June, 1848, some thirty-seven members of the Mormon Battalion

rendezvoused at a flat some six or eight miles from Coloma, California,

near where the first gold discovery was made. This assemblage was

preparatory to crossing the Sierra Nevada mountains at or near the

head of the American River; for we had learned that it was next to

impossible to take wagons at this time of the year by what was called

the Truckee route, and as we had become accustomed to pioneer life it

was thought we could find a better route, so it was proposed to open

up one by the way stated. We had been successful in getting a few

hundred dollars each from the mines, and had fitted ourselves out with

wagons and ox teams, seeds and tools; for our protection on the journey

we bought of Captain Sutter two brass Russian cannon, one a four

pounder and the other a six-pounder.

Some of the company, eight or ten, had pitched camp at the site

selected, and were waiting for others who were tardy in getting

their outfit. Early in May, a party consisting of David Browett, Ira

J. Willis, J. C. Sly, Israel Evans, Jacob M. Truman, Daniel Allen,

Henderson Cox, Robert Pixton, and, I think, J. R. Allred, went out

about two or three days ahead, and found the country covered with deep

snow, so that at that time it was impracticable to go forward with the

wagons; the party therefore returned to the main camp, and waited till

the last of June. During this wait, David Browett, Daniel Allen and

Henderson Cox, being anxious to be moving, started a second time to

search out the route, and were surprised at night and all were killed

by Digger Indians. They had been gone some eight or ten days before

the main body got together, and about twenty days before we started.

Alexander Stephens and I, it seems to me, and some two or three others,

did not join the party, as I remember, until June 29.

The day before starting from the gold diggings on our journey was kind

of an off-day, in which the writer had some spare time and wandered off

from camp, with pick and shovel, up into a dry gulch, where he soon

struck a very rich prospect of gold, about a quarter of a mile from

water. This was about 11 o'clock a.m. By sundown he had carried the

rich dirt down in his pantaloons, and washed out forty-nine dollars

and fifty cents in gold; yet kind reader, strange as it may appear,

he, with his partners, hitched up and rolled out the next morning, and

joined the main camp at what we called Pleasant Valley, but now, I

think, known as Dutch Flat. I have never seen that rich spot of earth

since; nor do I regret it, for there always has been a higher object

before me than gold. We had covenanted to move together under certain

conditions, and those conditions existing we were in honor bound to

move the next day. We did move, leaving that rich prospect without ever

sticking a stake in the gulch, but abandoning it to those who might

follow. Some may think we were blind to our own interests; but after

more than forty years we look back without regrets, although we did see

fortunes in the land, and had many inducements to stay. People said,

"Here is gold on the bedrock, gold on the hills, gold in the rills,

gold everywhere, gold to spend, gold to lend, gold for all that will

delve, and soon you can make an independent fortune." We could realize

all that. Still duty called, our honor was at stake, we had covenanted

with each other, there was a principle involved; for with us it was God

and His kingdom first. We had friends and relatives in the wilderness,

yea, in an untried, desert land, and who knew their condition? We did

not. So it was duty before pleasure, before wealth, and with this

prompting we rolled out and joined our comrades in Pleasant Valley.

At our camp in Pleasant Valley we organized with Jonathan Holmes as

president, and with captains of tens. Then there were chosen eight or

nine vaqueros or herdsmen, to take charge of all the loose stock from 4

a.m. till 8 p.m.; but in the main the herdsmen were the chief pioneers

for the camp. I remember only a few of them: W. Sidney, S. S. Willis,

Israel Evans, Jacob M. Truman, Wesley Adair and James S. Brown.

The date of our start from Pleasant Valley I cannot now recall, further

than that it was between the 25th of June and the 1st of July. We

made slow progress, for the road was very rough. About six of us rode

ahead, and looked out and marked the route. We would go ahead half the

day, and then return to meet the train, often finding them camped, the

men working the road, cutting the timber, rolling rock, and digging

dugways, or mending wagons. Sometimes we had to lay over a day or two

to make the road passable.

Thus we pushed forward on our journey till we came to a place we called

Tragedy Springs, for near a beautiful spring at this place we found the

remains of the three brethren who had preceded us, they having been

murdered by Indians, and buried in a shallow grave. We first found

bloody arrows, then stones with blood on them, then the nude bodies,

partly uncovered; these were recognized by Daniel Allen's purse of gold

near by. Our feelings cannot be described through the medium of the

pen, therefore I must leave these to the reader's imagination. We built

a wall of rough rock around the grave, then covered it with flat stones

to protect the bodies from wild beasts. This was the best we could do,

for the bodies were so decomposed that we could not do more. The names

of the deceased and manner of death, with proper dates, were cut in a

large tree that stood near by.

The night we came to Tragedy Springs was very dark, and our camp

being in a dense forest of large trees, the darkness was intensified.

Guards were at their posts around stock and camp, when suddenly, from

some cause we never knew, the stock stampeded. This raised a great

excitement, and before it subsided one of our cannon was discharged;

as it belched forth its stream of fire, and the sound of the explosion

echoed in forest and hills, the animals were stampeded still worse,

only a few horses that had been securely tied remaining. We were

compelled to lay by for two days to get things together, but we finally

did so, recovering all our stock.

We made another start, going to a place we called Leek Springs, because

of there being so many leeks growing wild. We had to stop over and mark

our way among rocky ridges. Thence we moved on, musket in one hand, or

in a handy place to the teamster, with his goad or whip in the other

hand, the train moving in close order and constantly on the alert for

an attack by man or beast.

We ascended a very high spur of the Sierra Nevada range, on the south

side. When we reached the summit the wind blew as if it were the middle

of November. As we crossed over we came to a large snowdrift; on the

north side of the mountain our wagons rolled over the snow as if

on marble pavement, but when we came to where the sun had shone in

the latter part of the day, our wagons went down to the hub, and four

were capsized and some of them badly broken. The others succeeded in

reaching the bottom in safety. It took us till after dark to pick up

the pieces and get them together to be ready to start the next morning.

We all gathered around the campfire and discussed the subject of

standing guard, when the writer remarked that there was no need of

guards--that he would agree to take care of all the Indians that would

come around that night, for it was so cold and disagreeable that he

supposed no human being would come there from choice. Just then someone

inquired what an object on a rock was. Some said it was an owl, others

that it was an Indian. Two or three of us took our guns and sallied

forth to settle the dispute finding to our surprise two Indians with

feathered headdresses on, and with long bows, and quivers full of

arrows. They were within easy bowshot of us. The party had the laugh on

the writer for once.

We took the Indians prisoners, disarmed them, and prepared a place

for them to sleep, after giving them their supper. The writer was one

called on to guard them, and he promptly complied. The Indians made

good company, though they were very nervous, and we had to threaten

them frequently to keep them from making a break for liberty. At

midnight the guards were changed, and at dawn we made ready to descend

to the camp below, arriving there just as the Indians moved off; we had

released our prisoners. The Indians soon began to come in from every

quarter, all armed. We moved in close order, every man well armed.

The savages numbered three to our one; they flanked us and we could

see them on every hand, in threatening attitude. In this situation

we had to chop and roll logs out of the way, move rock, and make

dugways, lifting at and holding wagons to keep them from turning over.

Consequently, our progress was slow, and the journey very hazardous.

Finally, when we had worked our way carefully along the difficult

route, passing over the summit of the great Sierras, which divide

the waters of the great deserts from those which flow to the Pacific

Ocean, the threatening red men slunk out of sight, and we found a rough

camping place, where we lay all night upon our arms, but nothing came

to alarm us.

We continued down the canyon and came to a more open country, camping

by a river bend where there was good feed, water, and fuel. We had

begun to feel more safe from the red men, yet that night they stole

in past our guards and took some of our saddle horses which were tied

within four or five rods of our wagons. The Indians escaped, and were

detected only by our guards hearing them cross the river; this was

about 4 a.m. Early in the morning we learned more definitely our loss,

and eight or ten of us gave pursuit, following the trail across a sandy

country and over the foothills, ultimately succeeding in the recovery

of all our horses but one, and for that we captured an Indian pony that

had the distemper, as we discovered after it had been turned into our

herd. That was one of the hardest day's rides that the writer remembers

in all his experiences, for we put our horses through all they could

live for. Every moment we were liable to ambush, for the Indians

divided into three parties and we did the same. One of our party

supposed he had killed an Indian, or certainly wounded him, just as he

entered into the thick brush.

It was late the next day when we resumed our journey, and that night

we camped in Carson Valley, where we looked on an extensive plain or

desert. Being unable to discern any evidences of water, we turned to

the north, just under the base of the mountains, traveling over a very

hard route, until we came to the Truckee River, where we entered the

old emigrant road. We followed that road till we came to the sink of

the Humboldt, then called St. Mary's River. The distance was said to be

forty-five miles; be that as it may, we were twenty-four hours covering

it, and I do not think we had any rest or sleep during the whole trip.

We passed the wonderful Hot or Steamboat Springs. I remember seeing

a dog run up to one of them as if to lap the water, and as he did so

his feet slipped into the edge of the pool. He was so surprised at the

heat that he gave one yelp of pain and jumped into the middle of the

spring, stretched out his legs, and never gave another kick. In a very

short time the hair was all scalded off him. The incident reminded me

of the story of a Dutchman who, when he came to a hot spring, ordered

his teamster to drive on, as hell could not be more than a mile away.

We did not feel to blame the Dutchman, if the springs were like this;

for, from the surroundings, hades did not appear to be far off, and we

passed on without any desire to linger about the dreadful place. It was

about 4 a.m. when, as we approached the Humboldt River, our horses and

cattle hoisted their heads, began to sniff, and broke into a trot; from

that they started into a run, and we had enough to do to keep up with

them till they reached the water.

We had a short rest, and resumed our journey, for there was no food

for our stock, and the water was brackish, so we traveled eight or ten

miles and camped for the night. As the grazing was still short, we made

a very early start, and were soon joined by two Indians, who remained

with us all day and were very friendly. When we camped they stopped

with us, and as we had been told the place was a dangerous one for

Indians, the presence of these two caused a suspicion that they were

spies, and probably would signal their fellows when to attack the train.

We had been in camp only a short time when a white horse was led in.

The animal had a slight wound on his wethers and a mark of blood some

six inches down on his shoulder. This wound had been caused by the

horse rolling on some burned willow stumps, one of the men having seen

him roll; and there were on the animal the black marks from the charred

wood. Yet some of the camp insisted that the wounds were from Indian

arrow's. At this time some one came up from the river and caused a

flame of excitement by saying he had seen an Indian skulking in the

brush, although he admitted that it might have been a bird or a wild

animal, for, while he saw something move, he was not in a position to

say just what it was. The discussion now waxed hot, and one man leveled

his gun at one of the Indians, declaring he would shoot him. The writer

was standing near by and caught the gun to prevent such an act, and was

in turn threatened with being shot, when the trouble was stopped by

others interfering.

That night, when the camp was called together as usual, for prayers

and consultation, and prayers had been said, the same man who had

threatened to shoot the Indian moved that we lay by the next day, hunt

down all the Indians we could find, and by killing rid the country of

the "d--d black rascals." This startling proposition seemed to stun

the senses of the men for a moment, for no such spirit had invaded the

camp before, our motto being peace on earth, good will to man. The

proposition was so repugnant to the writer's feelings that he made his

maiden speech in strongly opposing the motion, declaring that if such

a cruel step were taken he would be a swift witness against all who

engaged in the wicked and savage action; he also asserted that he would

inform on them at the earliest opportunity, for as yet the Indians in

that vicinity had done us no harm, and it was as much murder to kill

one of them as to kill a white man. Others sided with the writer and

the matter was dropped.

We passed on up the river until we came to near the narrows or canyon.

There some of our stock was wounded by Indian arrows. I do not recall

just how many were injured or died from their wounds. The Indians who

did the damage kept out of our sight.

I must mention Elder Addison Pratt, who joined us at Sutter's Fort, as

he was returning from a five years' mission to the Society Islands, in

the South Pacific Ocean. He was a great fisherman, and it was along

this part of the route that he used to catch the little speckled trout

in such numbers as to attract both our admiration and our gratitude.

He would go where no one else would ever think of finding fish, and

would meet with wonderful success. In fact, some of the party were so

astonished at his good luck that they declared he could catch fish in a

cow track. He was a good, jolly soul, and made the best of everything.

Our train journeyed on in peace till we came to Goose Creek, where the

writer traded a mare to an Indian, for a mule. The red man was given

several articles for the difference. He sauntered around for a little

while, then mounted the mule, and away he went, taking the articles

with him. The writer pursued alone for four or five miles, and first

thing he knew was too near the Indian camp to turn back, so he rushed

in among them, dismounted, changed the mare for the mule, and rode off.

The Indians looked surprised and frightened, and made no resistance. I

never realized the hazard I had taken till the danger was over; then I

was glad to rejoin my fellow-travelers.

We crossed Goose Creek Mountains and again struck out into the

trackless desert, pioneering our own way, rolling the rocks and cutting

the road. We reached the Malad, a very difficult stream to cross, but

we succeeded in getting over without serious damage. From there our

route lay to the Bear River, which we crossed in safety by blocking up

our wagon boxes. I think the crossing was made just above where Bear

River City is now located. From there we traveled southward under the

base of the mountains to where we found two springs, one of hot water

and the other of very cold water, within a very few feet of each other;

they flowed in the same gulch or ravine. Along this route we had naught

but an Indian trail to guide us. When we reached Box Elder we thought

it the finest place we had seen since leaving Carson Valley.

While in California we had learned that the Latter-day Saints had

settled near the south end of the Great Salt Lake; and as we had

been in sight, from the mountains, of the north end of the lake for

some days, we began to feel that we were nearing a place of rest. We

journeyed on till we came to the Ogden and Weber rivers, where we found

that Captain James Brown, of company C of the Mormon Battalion, and a

few of the Saints had settled; the country looked very wild. We still

pursued our way southward, till we reached the present site of Salt

Lake City, entering the Sixth Ward Square--now Pioneer Square--where

the Saints had built houses and a stockade. I think the date of our

arrival at this place was the 28th of September, 1848.

We were heartily welcomed, by relatives and friends, after our long and

tedious march of near four thousand miles, and our more than two years'

absence from those we loved and who loved us. Our meeting and greeting

were far more joyous and precious than the glittering gold we had left

behind. Neither our friends nor ourselves had any regrets for our

having left the gold fields when we remembered our marching away, over

two years before, to the tune of "The Girl I Left Behind Me," for we

were so very glad to find her again, no matter if it were in a desert.

We all rejoiced, and gave thanks to God for His protecting care and our

safe return to the bosom of friends.

CHAPTER XVI.

CONTENTMENT AMONG THE SAINTS IN GREAT SALT LAKE VALLEY--RUDE DWELLINGS

AND SHORT RATIONS--TRYING EXPERIENCES--RESCUE OF MORMON BATTALION

MEMBERS FROM STARVATION--CARRY NEWS OF THE CALIFORNIA GOLD DISCOVERY

TO THE EAST--RE-UNION OF MORMON BATTALION MEMBERS--ADDRESSES BY THE

FIRST PRESIDENCY AND OTHERS--SETTLING A NEW COUNTRY--ORGANIZATION OF

MINUTE MEN--COLD WINTER--THE GOLD FEVER--TENOR OF THE PREACHINGS AND

PROPHESYINGS OF THOSE TIMES--INSTRUCTING THE PEOPLE IN INDUSTRIAL

PURSUITS--POLICY TOWARD THE INDIANS.

NOTWITHSTANDING the fact of the aspect in the Great Salt Lake Valley

being gloomy, most of the people were contented with their lot,

although the experiences of 1847 and 1848 had been anything but

encouraging. Some of the inhabitants were living in log cabins, others

in dugouts, and still others in wagons, while some who did not have

the latter had built brush sheds; almost everybody was living on short

rations, crickets and grasshoppers having destroyed most of the crops.

The whole face of the country was brown and dry, except small streaks

along the water courses. There was no provender for our stock, and we

could only turn them out upon the range, and trust them and ourselves

to a kind Providence. Timber for fuel was in the mountains, and higher

up in these there was timber for fencing and building purposes. In

order to get either, we had to make roads at great expense, building

bridges and cutting dugways, sometimes going in armed companies to

protect ourselves from the threatening Indian tribes. A long brush

bowery was built in the town; we met there for religious services, and

for all other purposes that made it necessary for the people to be

called together.

October 6, 1848, a general conference of the Church was held, and the

people as a rule felt blessed, although there were a few who were very

much discouraged as the rations grew short and the cold weather pinched

more closely.

Some time in October, news reached us that a small detachment of the

Mormon Battalion coming from California was starving to death on the

western deserts. Their old comrades in arms soon gathered supplies and

fitted up a team, and six or seven of us went out to give assistance.

We met the suffering company at the point of the West Mountains, about

two days earlier than we had expected. The men were suffering, but not

quite so badly as we had been led to believe from the word we had got.

It was snowing when we met them, and continued to do so the greater

part of the night and of the next day, so that we suffered much from

cold before we reached shelter, for everything was soaked through. The

company brought considerable gold, which was exhibited to many of the

people.

Some of our comrades were not so fortunate as to find their families in

the Great Salt Lake Valley, so they pushed on to where these had been

left, in Iowa or Nebraska. Those men bore the news of the great gold

discovery in California, and, as evidence of the truth of their story,

showed the precious metal they had secured. Thus the Mormon Battalion

not only was at the discovery of gold in California and took part

therein, but bore the news thereof eastward, until it spread to the

world, causing great excitement.

The last detachment of the battalion for the season having arrived in

the valley, a feast was prepared, and a re-union of the soldiers and

their friends was called. It was made as grand an affair as could be

under the circumstances, Presidents Brigham Young and Heber C. Kimball

leading out with liberal hands. We were welcomed in royal style;

interesting speeches were made by the First Presidency of the Church,

and also by the officers and soldiers of the battalion.

From that time things moved quietly, people making roads and getting

out timber for various purposes, herding stock, fencing, and so on.

At length the Indians began to run off and kill the stock. A meeting

was called and one hundred men selected to enroll themselves as minute

men, the writer being one of the company. We were required each to

keep a horse on hand, and to be ready at a minute's warning to march

to any point of attack. We had to fit out ourselves, as there was no

quartermaster's department on which officers could issue requisitions

and have them honored. We had to provide our own provisions, and

everything necessary for a campaign, at our own expense. Most of the

young men having horses of their own, and many of them having become

expert horsemen, a full quota was furnished for the company. We had

turned over to the Church authorities, for the public defense, our

two brass Russian cannon. The minute men met for drill at regularly

appointed times.

The winter of 1848-9 was quite cold. Many people had their feet badly

frozen. For one, the writer suffered so severely from this cause that

he lost every nail from the toes of both feet. In February and March

there began to be some uneasiness over the prospects, and as the days

grew warmer the gold fever attacked many so that they prepared to go

to California. Some said they would go only to have a place for the

rest of us; for they thought Brigham Young too smart a man to try to

establish a civilized colony in such a "God-forsaken country," as they

called the valley. They further said that California was the natural

country for the Saints; some had brought choice fruit pips and seed,

but said they would not waste them by planting in a country like the

Great Salt Lake Valley; others stated that they would not build a

house in the valley, but would remain in their wagons, for certainly

our leaders knew better than to attempt to make a stand in such a dry,

worthless locality, and would be going on to California, Oregon or

Vancouver's Island; still others said they would wait awhile before

planting choice fruits, as it would not be long before they would

return to Jackson County, Missouri.

This discouraging talk was not alone by persons who had no experience

in farming and manufacturing, but by men who had made a success at

their various avocations where they had been permitted to work in

peace, before coming west. Good farmers said: "Why the wheat we grew

here last year was so short that we had to pull it; the heads were

not more than two inches long. Frost falls here every month in the

year--enough to cut down all tender vegetation. More, James Bridger

and Gudger, who have been in this country ten years or more, say that

corn cannot be raised anywhere in these mountains. In fact, Bridger has

told President Young that he will give a thousand dollars for the first

bushel of corn raised in the open air here, for he says it cannot be

done."

It was at this time of gloom that President Young stood before the

whole people, and said, in substance, that some people had misgivings,

and some were murmuring, and had not faith to go to work and make their

families comfortable; they had got the gold fever and were going to

California. Said he: "Some have asked me about going. I have told them

that God has appointed this place for the gathering of His Saints,

and you will do better right here than you will by going to the gold

mines. Some have thought they would go there and get fitted out and

come back, but I told them to stop here and get fitted out. Those who

stop here and are faithful to God and His people will make more money

and get richer than you that run after the god of this world; and I

promise you in the name of the Lord that many of you that go, thinking

you will get rich and come back, will wish you had never gone away from

here, and will long to come back but will not be able to do so. Some

of you will come back, but your friends who remain here will have to

help you; and the rest of you who are spared to return will not make

as much money as your brethren do who stay here and help build up the

Church and kingdom of God; they will prosper and be able to buy you

twice over. Here is the place God has appointed for His people. We have

been kicked out of the frying-pan into the fire, out of the fire into

the middle of the floor, and here we are and here we will stay. God has

shown me that this is the spot to locate His people, and here is where

they will prosper; He will temper the elements for the good of His

Saints; He will rebuke the frost and the sterility of the soil, and the

land shall become fruitful. Brethren, go to, now, and plant out your

fruit seeds." Stretching his arms to the east and to the west, with his

hands spread out, he said: "For in these elements are not only all the

cereals common to this latitude, but the apple, peach and plum; yea,

and the more delicate fruits, the strawberry and raspberry; and we will

raise the grape here and manufacture wine; and as the Saints gather

here and get strong enough to possess the land, God will temper the

climate, and we shall build a city and a temple to the Most High God

in this place. We will extend our settlements to the east and west, to

the north and to the south, and we will build towns and cities by the

hundreds, and thousands of the Saints will gather in from the nations

of the earth. This will become the great highway of the nations. Kings

and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth will visit us here,

while the wicked and ungodly will envy us our comfortable homes and

possessions. Take courage, brethren. I can stand in my door and can see

where there is untold millions of the rich treasures of the earth--gold

and silver. But the time has not come for the Saints to dig gold. It is

our duty first to develop the agricultural resources of this country,

for there is no country on the earth that is more productive than this.

We have the finest climate, the best water, and the purest air that can

be found on the earth; there is no healthier climate anywhere. As for

gold and silver, and the rich minerals of the earth, there is no other

country that equals this; but let them alone; let others seek them,

and we will cultivate the soil; for if the mines are opened first, we

are a thousand miles from any base of supplies, and the people would

rush in here in such great numbers that they would breed a famine;

and gold would not do us or them any good if there were no provisions

in the land. People would starve to death with barrels of gold; they

would be willing to give a barrel of gold for a barrel of flour rather

than starve to death. Then, brethren, plow your land and sow wheat,

plant your potatoes; let the mines alone until the time comes for you

to hunt gold, though I do not think this people ever will become a

mining people. It is our duty to preach the Gospel, gather Israel, pay

our tithing, and build temples. The worst fear that I have about this

people is that they will get rich in this country, forget God and His

people, wax fat, and kick themselves out of the Church and go to hell.

This people will stand mobbing, robbing, poverty, and all manner of

persecution, and be true. But my greater fear for them is that they

cannot stand wealth; and yet they have to be tried with riches, for

they will become the richest people on this earth."

My dear reader, the writer stood on the Sixth Ward Square, Salt Lake

City, in the year 1849, fifty-one years ago, and heard the foregoing

spoken by President Brigham Young. Now it is 1900. and I bear my

testimony to the literal fulfillment of most of those sayings, and that

portion which has not yet come to pass I most assuredly believe will do

so. I entreat the reader of this to pause and reflect. Was there divine

inspiration in this matter, or not?

About the same time, Parley P. Pratt, one of the Twelve Apostles, told

the people to save the hides of their cattle, tan them, and make boots

and shoes for their families. He said that in the mountains there was

spruce, pine bark, and shumac, with tanning properties; advised that

they be gathered, and the beef hides tanned; and predicted that the

time would come when leather would be tanned here, and boots and shoes

would be manufactured and exported. It was also stated that we would

raise sheep here, and would manufacture woollen fabrics and export them.

As the writer walked away from meeting that day, in company with some

old and tried men, who had been mobbed and robbed, and driven from

their homes, and whom he looked upon almost as pillars of the Church,

one of them said he had passed through such and such trials in the

past, but that that day, 1849, was the darkest he ever had seen in the

Church. The thought of trying to settle this barren land, he said, was

one of the greatest trials he had met. There were some three of the

party particularly whom the writer thought were staunch men; one of

these asked another what he thought of the preaching that day, and got

the reply that it would do "to preach to d--d fools, but not to men of

sense"--that it was insulting to a man's better senses, it was absurd

to think that it was possible to manufacture anything for export from

a country like this, where we were more likely to starve to death than

to do anything else. Now, after half a century has passed away, the

writer refers to the manufacturing and mercantile establishments in

these mountain valleys to establish which were the divinely inspired

utterances of that day.

On one occasion in 1849, President Heber C. Kimball, when preaching to

the people, exhorted them to be faithful as Saints, to cultivate the

earth, and let others dig the gold. He said it was not for the Saints

to dig it, but the time would come when they would learn to use it,

and not abuse it, or the power that it gives; they would possess it by

millions, and the time would come when people would be willing to give

a bushel of gold for a bushel of wheat, when judgments and calamities

would be poured out on the nations of the earth. He declared that

people would come here by thousands, yea, tens of thousands would yet

flee to Zion for safety; they would come with their burdens on their

backs, having nothing to eat, and the people here would have to feed

them; others would bring their gold and silver, and envy the people

here their peace and comfort, for God would temper the climate so

that the Saints would be able to raise everything they needed. Elder

Kimball further said: "Brethren, build good, large granaries, fill

them with wheat, and keep it against the time when it will be needed.

Some people think we have passed the day of trial, but let me tell you

that you need not fear that, for if you are faithful you shall have

all the trials you can bear, and if you are not faithful you will have

more, and will apostatize and go to hell. Some people have come from

the eastern states and the old country and said: "Brother Kimball, O

that we could have been with you in Kirtland, in Jackson county, and

in Nauvoo, and shared the trials of the Saints with you!" Brethren,

hold on a little while, and you shall have all the trials you will

be able to stand; for God has said that He will have a tried people,

so you may prepare yourselves; for before the roof is on the temple

that we will build here, the devils will begin to howl, and before

the capstone is laid you will begin to have your trials. Your leaders

will be hunted as wild beasts; we shall not be with you, and men will

be left to themselves for awhile. Then is the time that you should be

filled with light, that you may be able to stand through the days of

trial. Now, you can leave your bench-tools on the workbench, and your

plows and farming tools in the field; and can lie down and go to sleep

without locking or bolting your doors; but the time will come when,

if you do this, your tools will be stolen from you. These mountains

will be filled with robbers, highwaymen, and all kinds of thieves and

murderers, for the spirit of the old Gadianton robbers lurks here in

the mountains, and will take possession of men, and you will have to

watch as well as pray, to keep thieves away. Therefore, brethren,

begin now to take better care of your tools; attach locks and bolts

to your doors, and do not wait until the horse is stolen before you

lock the door." Elder Kimball referred to the fact that the young men

were becoming restless and did not know what to do; they ran hither

and thither to the mines, and became rude and uncultivated. Said he:

"Let me tell you, boys, what to do. Marry the girls and build homes for

yourselves. Do not leave the young ladies to take up with strangers

who will marry them and then desert them. If you do not marry them,

I counsel the middle-aged and old men to marry the girls and treat

them well, and let them have the opportunity to obey the first command

of God to man, to multiply and replenish the earth. Brethren, take

to yourselves more wives; for if you do not, the time will come when

you will not be permitted to do so. Seek wisdom by faith and prayer;

study and read all good books; study the arts and sciences; build good

schoolhouses, and educate your children, that they may be able to

perform the great work that will come upon them."

Some of the most practical and best informed men in the community

were called to deliver free lectures on farming, stockraising, etc.,

for many of the people had come from manufacturing centers and had

no experience in agricultural life, consequently these people needed

instruction, and it was given in every industrial pursuit that was

practicable at the time, and that by experienced men. Thus the people

were incited in their labors to subdue this wild and then desert

land--for it was barren and waste in the extreme.

President Brigham Young also instructed the people to treat the Indians

kindly, and divide food with them, "for," said he, "it is cheaper to

feed than to fight them. Teach them that we are their friends. Indeed,

treat every man civilly and kindly; treat every man as a gentleman

until you prove him to be a rascal--then let him alone."

The foregoing is the tenor of the teaching and preaching to the people

in 1848 and 1849, in what is now the State of Utah.

CHAPTER XVII.

SCARCITY OF FOOD IN THE GREAT SALT LAKE VALLEY--WILD VEGETABLES FOR

GREENS--FAIR PROSPECTS FOR CROPS--CLOUDS OF CRICKETS LAY BARE THE

FIELDS--PEOPLE STRUGGLE AGAINST THE PEST ALMOST TO DESPAIR--VAST

FLOCKS OF SEA GULLS, AS THE CLOUDS OF HEAVEN, COME TO THE

RESCUE--DESTRUCTION OF THE CRICKET--PEOPLE PRAISE THE LORD--THE

WRITER INVITED TO A MEETING, ORDAINED A SEVENTY, AND CALLED WITH

OTHERS TO GO ON A MISSION TO THE SOCIETY ISLANDS--WORDS OF PRESIDENTS

BRIGHAM YOUNG AND HEBER C. KIMBALL--PREPARATIONS TO TRAVEL TO

CALIFORNIA WITH AN EMIGRANT COMPANY--DESCRIPTION OF THE ROUTE BY

CAPTAIN JEFFERSON HUNT--START ON MY MISSION--PROPHECY BY PRESIDENT

WLLLARD RICHARDS--BATTLE WITH INDIANS AT PROVO AVERTED BY APOSTLE C.

C. RICH--PROSPECTS OF UTAH VALLEY TO SUPPORT POPULATION--OVERTAKE

THE EMIGRANT COMPANY--DISCUSSIONS AT BEAVER RIVER--COMPANY STARTS FOR

WALKER'S PASS--TURNED BACK BY SCARCITY OF WATER--EXPERIENCE ON THE

DESERT--DISSENSIONS IN THE COMPANY--FUTILE ATTEMPT TO SEND SOME OF

THE MEMBERS BACK--APOSTLE C. C. RICH FORESEES FURTHER TROUBLE, AND

ENDEAVORS TO SAVE THE MORMON PART OF THE TRAIN BY ADVISING THEM TO

RETURN TO THE OLD SPANISH TRAIL--METHODIST AND CAMPBELLTTE MINISTERS

INCITE THE COMPANY AGAINST THE MORMON GUIDE, CAPTAIN HUNT--MAIN COMPANY

DISREGARDS CAPTAIN HUNT'S WARNING OF DANGER, AND LEAVES THE OLD SPANISH

TRAIL TO SEARCH FOR THE ROUTE THROUGH WALKER'S PAST--MORMONS GO WITH

CAPTAIN HUNT ON THE SOUTHERN ROUTE.

WHEN seed time came that year, provisions were very scarce. People dug

segos and thistle roots, and gathered cow cabbage, as we called a plant

that was found in the canyons. We ate these as greens, cooked the hides

of beef cattle--in fact, gathered everything eatable, and worked hard

and put in our crops. These started out with fair prospects for harvest

until the grain was from one to six inches high. Then there came down

from the mountains myriads of black crickets, their bodies nearly as

large as a man's thumb. They entered upon wheat and corn fields, and

swept or ate every green thing before them. Field after field was

cleared of vegetation. Whole families with their chickens moved out to

their farms and made war upon the crickets. Men, women and children

fought from morning till night, and still the enemy advanced from field

to field. Men almost despaired, women wept, and to all human appearance

our cause was lost. The crickets ate the crops so close into the ground

that they could not start again. The people held fast meetings and

prayed for protection. I am not positive that there were any special

meetings for that purpose, but it was customary to fast and pray the

first Thursday in each month.

Almost everybody was in despair, and the enemy did not seem to be

diminished in numbers. With their war cry, or ce-ce, the crickets

advanced, and, seeming to call up their reserve forces, with a bold

front kept up their march. Then there came from the west and northwest

what seemed to me might be justly called the clouds of heaven, or

perhaps more properly the clouds of salvation. These were white sea

gulls, which flew so close together and were so numerous as to form

a cloud wherever they went. They covered almost the whole farming

district north and southeast of the city--the main farming district

in Salt Lake Valley at that time; they visited Davis County and other

places as well; and when they lit down the fields looked as though

covered with snow. The gulls came at sunrise and returned to the west

at sundown, after having gorged and disgorged themselves the entire

day, being tame as chickens. They kept up the work of deliverance day

after day, as the crickets continued to come down from the mountains.

I believe that was the first time this kind of birds had been seen by

any of the settlers. When they had completed their work of mercy they

went away, leaving a grateful people who returned thanks to the Giver

of every good gift. The Saints in the valley then were united and their

meetings were well attended.

One Sunday, Brother Jedediah M. Grant came down from the stand, took

the writer by the arm, and asked him to take a walk. The request was

granted readily, and I was led to Brother Lorenzo Young's house on City

Creek, where we found the First Presidency, some members of the Twelve

Apostles, and some of the first council of the Seventies. There the

writer was ordained to the Priesthood of a Seventy, and his name was

enrolled in the third quorum. Shortly after that he was invited with

others to attend a council meeting of the First Presidency and Twelve

Apostles, in President Kimball's schoolhouse. When we got in and were

seated, President Young said, "Brethren, if any of you have anything to

say, say on." There being no response, the president rose to his feet

and said, "I move that Elders Addison Pratt, Hyrum Blackwell and James

S. Brown take a mission to the Society Islands, in the South Pacific

Ocean." President H. C. Kimball said, "I second the motion." The

question was put and unanimously sustained, and the president turned to

me and asked, "Brother James, will you go?" The answer was, "I am an

illiterate youth, cannot read or write, and I do not know what good I

can do; but if it is the will of the Lord that I should go, and you say

so, I will do the best that I can." The president then took a seat near

me, placing his right hand on my left knee, and said, "It is the will

of the Lord that you go, and I say go; I am not afraid to risk you. And

I promise you in the name of the Lord God of Israel that if you go you

will be blessed, and do good, and be an honor to yourself and to the

Church and kingdom of God. Although men will seek your life, you shall

be spared and return to the bosom of the Church in safety."

This council was on Sunday evening, some time in September, 1849, and

we were to start no later than the 10th of October; indeed, we were

instructed to get ready as soon as possible, so that we could join a

company of emigrants which was organizing to go through to California

by the southern route, as it was too late to go by the northern route.

As Elder Addison Pratt and I had agreed to go sowing wheat together on

Monday morning, I thought I could speak to him without any notice being

taken of it. I said to him, in a low tone of voice, that I guessed we

would not sow much wheat next day. President H. C. Kimball jumped from

his seat as quick as a flash, and pointing his finger directly at me,

said, "What is that, Brother Jimmie?" When I told him what I had said,

he continued, "Jimmie, it is not for you to sow wheat or to reap it,

but your calling is to sow the good seed of the Gospel, and gather

Israel from this time henceforth. Mind that, now; let others sow the

wheat." From that time I felt a weight of responsibility that I had

never thought of before.

We then went to preparing for our journey, Apostle C. C. Rich had been

called to go through to California, so he and Brother Pratt and I

fitted up a team, I having a good wagon and one yoke of oxen; they each

furnished a yoke of oxen. In a few days we were ready for the start. We

had a rodometer attached to our wagon, to measure the distance.

In the meantime, the emigrants called a meeting before taking their

departure. They had employed Captain Jefferson Hunt of company A,

Mormon Battalion fame, to be their guide, as he had come through that

route with pack animals. He was invited to tell them what they might

expect. He described the route to them with the roughest side out, lest

they might say that he had misled them by making things more favorable

than they really were. In concluding his remarks he said: "From Salt

Springs, we cross to a sandy desert, distance seventy-five miles to

Bitter Springs, the water so bitter the devil would not drink it; and

from thence away hellwards, to California or some other place. Now,

gentlemen, if you will stick together and follow me, I will lead you

through to California all right; but you will have to make your own

road, for there is none save the old Spanish trail from Santa Fe to

California, by the Cajon Pass through the Sierra Nevada Mountains."

The emigrant company consisted of about five hundred souls, and one

hundred wagons and teams, the latter in poor condition. Feeling in high

spirits, the company moved out between the 1st and 8th of October. C.

C. Rich, Francis Pomeroy and I remained to follow up on horseback, in

three or four days. Pratt and Blackwell, taking our team, started with

the main body. They got to the Cottonwoods, when one of my oxen became

so lame that they could not proceed any farther. Blackwell returned to

inform me of the situation, and I went down and traded with John Brown,

late Bishop of Pleasant Grove, for another ox, mine having been pricked

in shoeing. Then they overtook the main company, and all proceeded

together.

On the 8th we followed. I started out alone, to meet with the others

at Cottonwood. As I passed the home of Dr. Willard Richards, counselor

to President Brigham Young, Dr. Richards came out and met me; he took

me by the right knee with his right hand, as I sat on my horse, and

said, "Starting out on your mission, I suppose?" I replied, "Yes, sir."

"Well, Brother James, I am glad, and sorry; glad to have you go and

preach the Gospel, and sorry to part with good young men that we need

in opening up a new country." At that he gave my knee an extra grip.

Stretching his left hand out to the southwest, his chin quivering and

his eyes filling with tears, he said, "Brother James, when you are

upon yonder distant islands, called to preside over a branch of the

Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, men will seek your life,

and to all human appearance, there will be no possible escape; then

look unto God, and His angels shall draw near unto you, and you shall

be delivered, to return home to this people. Do not stop to write to

Brother Pratt, your president, to Brother Brigham, or to me, for you

will require the immediate protection of God. Then put your trust

in Him, and He will deliver you; for I promise you in the name of

Israel's God that you shall be delivered from your enemy and return

to this people. Goodbye, and God bless you." Need I tell the reader

that my mind was greatly impressed by those prophetic words, their

inspired character being established so vividly in my later experience?

Prophetic I knew them to be, and impressive they were indeed; and the

impression has been deep and lasting.

I then went on to Brother Jacob M. Truman's, on Big Cottonwood Creek,

and stayed with him that night. Next morning I passed on to Brother

William Bills', where I met with Brothers C. C. Rich and F. Pomeroy,

and we proceeded on to Provo by the Indian trail, having been joined by

Alexander Williams, with whom we stayed.

At Provo we learned that the citizens and Indians had had some trouble,

and there was considerable excitement, as there were but few settlers

at that place and the Indians were quite numerous. The latter were

singing war songs and working up a spirit of war preliminary to making

an attack that night or next morning, as was supposed. The people

were preparing to receive them as best they could. Guards were posted

around the camp, and men put on picket duty, so that any enemy might be

discovered readily.

The Indians made no move until after daylight; but just before sunrise

they started from their camps in force, to attack us. We advanced to

meet them, so as to prevent their assailing us in the small fort,

where the women and children were. The savages marched up as if to

give us open battle. We formed across the road, and each man took his

post ready for action. I always have believed that if it had not been

for the presence of Apostle C. C. Rich, and his cool, conciliatory

action, there would have been bloodshed, for there were some very

hot-headed white men, who would have preferred war to peace. Through

Brother Rich's influence, the cause of the trouble was looked into, a

conciliation effected, and war averted, so that after breakfast we of

the missionary party proceeded on to what was called Hobble Creek--now

the city of Springville, with a population of over two thousand souls.

I remember that we thought the place would be capable of sustaining

eight or ten families, or a dairy, believing there was not enough water

for more.

From Hobble Creek we passed on from one small stream to another,

expressing our opinion as to the capacity of the water supply; and in

no instance did we suppose that there was water sufficient for more

than fifteen families, judging from what we could see then. Again,

the barrenness of the country was such that it did not seem that more

than seventy-five or a hundred head of cattle could find feed within

reach of water. Now thousands of head of horned stock and horses are

sustained at the same places.

We kept on our way until we overtook the wagon train on Sevier River.

We came up with the emigrants just as they were ready to move on, but

did not find them so full of glee as they were on the start from the

city. Still, we rolled on very peaceably until we came to Beaver River,

where the country began to look more forbidding. Then the ardor of the

emigrants began to weaken.

At this place the company was joined by a man named Smith with a pack

train of about seventeen men; also James Flake, with thirty Latter-day

Saints; besides, there were William Farrer, John Dixon. H. W. Bigler,

George Q. Cannon, and others, whose names I do not now recall. Smith

felt confident that he could find Walker's Pass, in the Sierra Nevada

Mountains. This supposed pass had been spoken of often, but men had

been disappointed as often in finding it, or rather in not finding

it. Smith's story excited our whole camp so that there was a general

desire to try the new route, and go down through the canyon and out on

to the sandy desert. The whole company except a very few favored the

idea of leaving the route they had hired a guide for, and they urged

Captain Hunt to strike out and look for water. He said, "Gentlemen, I

agreed to pilot you through to California on the Old Spanish Route by

the Cajon Pass. I am ready to do so, and am not under any obligations

to lead you in any other way; and if you insist on my doing so you must

be responsible, for I will not be responsible for anything. On this

condition, if you insist on changing your route, I will do the best I

can to find water, but I do not have any reason to hope for success

when I leave the trail."

The company hurrahed for the Walker Pass, and Captain Hunt struck out a

day ahead while the company shod and doctored their lame and sick stock

for one day. Then we moved out ten miles on to the plain southwest of

where Minersville, Utah, now stands, and camped.

Sometime in the night Captain Hunt came into camp, so near choked from

the lack of water that his tongue was swollen till it protruded from

his mouth; his eyes were so sunken in his head that he could scarcely

be recognized. His horse, too, for the need of water, was blind, and

staggered as he was urged on. Their stay had been thirty-six hours,

on the sands, without water. About 2 o'clock next morning our stock

stampeded from the guards and ran back to water. Two-thirds of the men

went in pursuit, and animals and men did not return to camp till 2

o'clock in the afternoon.