_Home by way of Panama and New York._
About the first of November, the four of us left the ranch for San
Francisco. There we bought four tickets for New York for eight hundred
dollars, and each man belted a thousand dollars in twenty-dollar gold
pieces around him. Our ship was the John L. Stephens, and carried
about a thousand passengers, besides a large quantity of freight. It
was my first experience on the water, and as we sailed out through the
golden gate and into the open sea, I had many misgivings and wished
myself back upon the plains among the Indians. But in a little while I
grew accustomed to life on the ship and really enjoyed the whole trip.
At some point on the coast of Old Mexico the ship anchored and took on
board a drove of beef cattle, and that was the only stop between San
Francisco and Panama.
When we reached Panama the ship anchored about a mile from shore and
little black natives rowed out in small boats to carry the passengers
in. When the boats reached the side of the ship, they were hoisted by
ropes to a level with the deck, loaded with passengers and lowered
again to the water. The natives grabbed the oars and away we went. All
passengers remained in Panama over night, and next morning a train of
pack mules was lined up for the overland trip. We rode twenty miles on
mules to the Charges River, then down the river in boats twelve miles
and then eight miles by railway to Aspinwall. The ship, George Law,
was waiting for us, but it required two days to get all the passengers
and baggage across the isthmus and loaded. During that time we
remained in Aspinwall. It was a wonder to me that the task could be
finished so quickly. There were a thousand passengers--many women and
children--and the sick who had to be carried on stretchers by the
natives twenty miles over the mountain to Charges River. Besides, the
road was a mere pack trail through rocks and cliffs, often very steep
and very rough. To make the task more difficult, the passengers of
the George Law--about as many as were on the John L. Stephens--were
making the trip in the opposite direction to take our ship back to
California. Those were busy days for the natives.
The George Law steamed right up to shore against a rock bluff and the
passengers walked directly over the gang plank on to the ship. When
all was ready the seamen hauled in the cables and we sailed for New
York. The sea was very rough all the way--that is, it seemed so to us.
We landed at Key West, but remained there only a few hours and stopped
next time at New York City. As the passengers started for shore the
captain told them to look out for their pocket books. We had done that
back in San Francisco when we put on our belts.
Our first thought on landing was clothing. We were dressed for summer
time, as the climate we had been in required, but it was winter in
New York, with deep snow on the ground. The afternoon after landing
saw us duly provided with plenty of warm clothing and tickets by
railroad and boat to St. Louis--railroad by way of Buffalo, Toledo
and Chicago to Quincy, and from Quincy to St. Louis by boat. At St.
Louis brother Robert was taken sick and we all remained there a week.
The usual course from St. Louis home was by stage, but we met a man
named Andrew Jackson from Holt County, who told us if we would pay
him stage fare--twenty-five dollars each--he would buy a span of mules
and a carriage and drive us through--as he needed both the mules and
the carriage at home. This arrangement was made and we left St. Louis
about the middle of December. The weather was very cold, snow a foot
deep or more, and the roads very rough in many places. One pleasant
thing about the trip was that we always had good, warm lodging places
for the night along the road. Towns were close enough together to
enable us usually to reach one of them and put up at the tavern, but
if we failed in this, we always found good treatment at the farm
houses by the way.
A few miles west of Keytesville, Chariton County, we put up one night
with a man named Tom Allen, who had a hundred head of steers ranging
from two to four years old. They were exactly what we wanted, but were
so far from our starting point that we were uncertain whether we could
take them. He asked three thousand dollars for the herd. Next morning
we looked them over carefully, and told him if he would keep them
until the first of April we would take them. He agreed to this and we
paid him a thousand dollars down and continued our journey. He was a
complete stranger to us and we to him, but in those days men seemed
to have more confidence in one another. No writing of any kind was
entered into and we felt not the slightest uneasiness about getting
the cattle.
We reached home Christmas day, 1853, having made the trip in less than
two months.