23d. Started this morning at four o'clock, A.M. From camp it is 14
miles to water or grass. Two miles from camp the roads branched in
every direction, and the course of the river is hidden entirely by the
mountain which seems to circle the whole country like the rim of a
great basin, with the exception of a gap far to the right. The plain
spreads out to the mountains level and desolate, a desert. This
labyrinth of roads gave rise to one of the most ludicrous scenes that I
ever saw. For myself, I had been lost from my wagons since daylight,
without being aware of the fact, and like the rest had taken a wrong
road. About noon I found some good clover and stopped to bait my horse.
When I started again, on rising a gentle aclivity I found the plain
alive with teams and men, who looked as though they had been struck
with the confusion of Babylon. Some were driving in one direction, some
in another, oxen, horses, mules, wagons, horse packers and foot
packers, were hurrying across the plains, without seeming object, in
every direction as far as the eye could reach, and in the most
delightful confusion imaginable. Two hundred wagons and numbers of
packers had lost their way, and knew not which way to turn, and as
usual in such cases were going every wrong way. I rode up to a man and
asked him what the deuce was to pay; if all the people were mad? He was
as much in the fog as I was. Presently some packers came along who said
they had been to the end of the road, and that they were lost. This
explained the confusion, although not very satisfactory of itself, for
we began to fear that we had inadvertantly been following some old
cut-off which would take time to retrace. By good fortune I succeeded
in finding one wagon belonging to our train, where I got some dinner.
Our train had become broken up as well as the rest in the confusion,
each one going on his own hook. After dinner I struck out in the
direction where I thought to find the river, and found I was right, and
about night was so fortunate as to find the ballance of the train, who
had succeeded in reaching the river ahead of me. Emigrants, that is the
Fools Meadow. When you get down below the point of the mountain which I
spoke of before this, and come to a great basin, surrounded on all
sides, but a gap far to the right, don't you pay any attention to that
gap, nor come to the conclusion that the river takes a turn and runs
through it, for it don't do it, but you keep the extreme left hand
road, and you will find that the river runs right through the mountains
as high as they look. The right hand roads are all camping roads, and
extend some of them 12 miles to some clover patches, and the old Lawson
cut-off leads through that gap on the right, where an Oregon party went
two or three years ago and nearly all perished. Many stopped and made
hay at these clover patches, thinking they were at the desert, but
don't trouble yourself here, for you have got a long dreary march of a
week's duration before you get to the Great Desert. We traveled hard
all day to get 14 miles on our journey, but I think the emigrant who
reads this will remember the Fools Meadow, and avoid the same mistake.
The emigrants now begin to experience a want of provisions. Flour, pork
and sugar are one dollar per lb.; coffee 50 cts., fresh beef 25, and
not much to be got at those prices.