Started early: soon crossed a little stream and went on in a northwest
direction till noon, when we came round to the southwest. Up to this
time our general course has been northwest, and this is the reason why
the season seems so backward here. The vegetation is no more advanced
here than at Weston ten days since. We were passed at noon by a company
of one hundred wagons from Wisconsin, and also one of thirty from
Illinois. Most of them had fine horse teams--generally four horses to
each wagon. The wind has been high and cold--cold as winter. Imagine a
man on the third of May walking in a heavy overcoat and blanket, and
shivering with cold. This was my condition. At sundown the wind subsided
and a rosy glow in the west promised a fair tomorrow. Went nineteen
miles today and stopped by a little stream called Rock Brook. I see but
very few Indians, perhaps one in a week. We have passed the Potawatimes
region, and are now in that of the Pawnees. I have seen none of the
latter tribe. Today we met a few troops from Fort Laramie. They say the
grass is good in the valley of the Platte, distant about one hundred
miles. Good health on the road generally, though we see a grave
occasionally, which reminds us of the admonition, "_memento mori_," and
beneath this inhospitable soil are hearts once virtuous ambition. The
angel of death follows the race of Adam to the uttermost parts of the
earth.
"There is no flock however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there;
There is no fireside howso'er defended,
But has one vacant chair."