23d. Sunday. Remained on the Big Sandy to-day. Great numbers are camped
here intending to cross the Big Sandy and Green River desert to-night.
One of our company Thos. Trimble, was taken sick yesterday with
mountain fever; by my advice he was brought along by his partner, Col.
Sublett, who had intended to remain back with him. He is very much
better to-day, which inclines me to think that it would be better in
most cases to travel with the patient in that fever than to lie bye.
The Big Sandy is about 10 rods wide, and 18 inches deep at this time,
and is a branch of the Colorado of the West.
24th. Started last night at five o'clock, P.M., to cross the desert,
which is not so much a desert as a great deal of the country over which
we have already traveled. It is destitute of water, but we found
considerable grass. Arrived at the Green River about noon, having
traveled all night, only stopping occasionally to rest our teams. The
distance, as measured by a roadometer belonging to Dr. Reed's
Pennsylvania train, was 41 miles, but I was told that a road turned off
25 miles from the Sandy which shortened the distance to Green River, to
30 miles. It was but little traveled, owing to which we missed it,
being in the night when we passed it. Five miles from the river we had
a bluff to descend which was 300 feet high, and almost perpendicular,
but we got down without accident by locking both hind wheels and
sliding. Last year the emigrants were obliged to take their wagons to
pieces and let them down with ropes. We had a beautiful moonlight last
night for traveling. Our road led in sight of the snow mantled peaks of
the Rocky Mountains, which looked with the moon beaming upon them, like
mountains of molten silver. It was one of the most magnificent views
that I have ever witnessed, and richly repaid me for the loss of rest
in crossing the desert in the night to attain it. We brought a packer
across the desert in our wagon who was unable to travel on horse back,
from sickness; he was so much better when we reached Green River that
he concluded to try his horse again. Our company is peculiarly
fortunate, for we not only escape sickness ourselves, but are often
able to relieve others who are suffering. We crossed Green River in a
ferry boat and drove seven miles, passing a creek six miles from the
river, and camped for the night. Found the grass poor, but good water.
We paid $5 a wagon for crossing, and swam our stock. Green River is
about 15 rods wide at the ferry, with a very swift current, and
generally deep. Some few ford above the ferry, but it is attended with
great danger. One wagon went rolling down the stream, while we were
there. One horse belonging to it was drowned, but the men were saved by
the ferry boat. One went down yesterday in the same manner. I
understand that 14 men have been drowned here this season in crossing.
Flour is worth here $50 per hundred lbs. Green River presents the most
romantic scenery in the world; it is deep set in the midst of bluffs
that take the shapes of towers, castles, cities, and of every
imaginable work of art. The bottom is smooth at intervals, looking like
a lawn with the stream, as viewed from the summit of the bluffs
meandering through it, looking like a silver thread winding through a
green landscape, while at a distance on one side may be seen the peaks
of the Rocky Mountains covered with snow, from their bases to their
summits, rearing their heads far into the sky, with the sun shining
upon them causing them to glisten like burnished silver. On the other
side are Green River mountains, which, though less lofty, are quite as
picturesque, having their valleys relieved by groves of pine, the green
contrasting agreeably with the naked brown rocks composing the
mountains. It is out of my power to do the subject justice.--It would
be a paradise for a landscape painter. When the railroad shall be built
from the States to California or Oregon, it will undoubtedly become a
fashionable resort in summer, and then its beauty will be known to the
world. Green River rises in the Wind River mountains and empties into
the Colorado.