They live in villages, sometimes, as father has said, several acresin extent, and their houses are holes in the ground, with a top orextension, made of earth which they have pushed up from beneath.
Eben Jordan declares, and several men in the company who have talkedwith the trappers or hunters say, that in every prairie dog's house maybe found a little gray owl, who has lodgings there, and oftentimes withthis owl is a rattlesnake. Now just fancy the prairie dog, the owl,and the rattlesnake living together! All I ever saw of the family wasthe dog, and he is about the size of a large rat, with hair which is amixture of light brown and black in color.
It is impossible for me to tell you how entertaining these littlecreatures are. When we passed by the villages you could see themscampering around and barking. Again and again I have seen them playingabout or sitting on the top of their houses, giving no heed to us untilthe wagon train was close upon them, when the entire colony would popinto their holes with every evidence of fear.
A moment later each little fellow would stick his head out, his black,beadlike eyes glistening, while he looked around as if asking whetheror not you saw how quickly he could get under cover when it pleased himto do so.
I know of nothing more comical than these little animals, and yet theylook so much like rats that I would greatly prefer to see them at adistance rather than make any attempt at taming them, as Eben Jordandeclares is his intention to do as soon as he can catch one alive.
I have my doubts, however, about his being able to catch one, unless heis cruel enough to wound it first with a rifle ball.
COLONEL RUSSELL'S MISHAP
Just before we arrived at the Platte River, we crossed a small creek,the bottom of which was exceedingly soft; the men were forced todouble up the teams in order to draw the heavy loads along, and ColonelRussell's wagon upset in midstream, where the water was two or threefeet deep.
Now there was nothing comical in such a mishap, and yet Ellen and I,who were standing on the bank of the creek where we could see all thatwas going on, laughed until I felt actually ashamed of myself. It wasall so ridiculous that I could not have kept my face straight whatevermight have been the result.
If the accident had happened quickly, there would not have beenanything so very funny about it; but, instead, the wagon toppledslowly, the men striving meanwhile to prevent it from going entirelyover. In the heavy wagon were Mrs. Russell and four children. We sawfirst the youngest child, as if some one had tossed him out, comeshooting from the wagon and strike the water. Then another child, andso on, one after another, exactly like a lot of grasshoppers, untilMrs. Russell herself appeared. Out they marched in the same order,water streaming from their clothing, which was bedaubed with mud.
Mother reproved Ellen and me severely for laughing when our neighborswere suffering; but even as she spoke the Russell procession passedalong the edge of the bank, marking the way with mud and water, and Inoticed that it was all she could do to keep her face straight whileshe scolded us.
CHIMNEY ROCK
When finally we crossed the Platte River, the men of the companyrejoiced, although I was unable to learn why, except that it marked, asmother suggested, the first stage of the journey, the second of whichwould come to an end at Fort Bridger, and the third in that land wherewe hoped to settle.
Not long after crossing this river we had a first glimpse of thatenormous mass which travelers speak of as Court House Rock, which, sothose who have seen both say, looks from the distance not unlike theCapitol at Washington. A few miles farther on we saw another huge pilecalled Chimney Rock.
I doubt not but that both would have been well worth the seeing, yetour desire to look at them more closely was not gratified. The trailleads some distance off, and when mother proposed to father that wemight halt for a day in order to get a nearer view of the curiosities,he shook his head decidedly, saying, almost gruffly, that we who werebent on finding new homes had no time to fritter away in looking atthis odd thing or at that.
Eben Jordan, however, borrowing one of his father's horses, rode offto Chimney Rock by himself, and when he came back he told Ellen and methat we need not shed many tears because of failing to see it close athand, because it was nothing more than a lot of big stones that lookedas if they might have been carelessly plastered together with mud.
Of course this couldn't be the fact; but Eben has no eye for sceneryand, I dare say, might turn his nose up at what every one else wouldbelieve wonderful or full of beauty.
AT FORT LARAMIE
Forty-eight days after leaving Independence we came to Fort Laramie,which is more like a trading post than like a fortification. It standson the banks of the river Platte, is owned by the American Fur Company,and is six hundred and seventy-two miles from Independence by the trailwe came over.
Just fancy! We had traveled nearly seven hundred miles, the men of thecompany walking all the way; yet during that time, with the exceptionof the mishap to Colonel Russell's wagon and the loss of a few head ofcattle, we had come to no harm.
At Fort Laramie we slept in a real house for the first time sincestarting on the long journey. It was not such a building as we lived inat Ashley, and yet it was to me almost beautiful, after I had remainedso long in the wagon.
I fancied I would sleep on that night as never before since themarch began, and that we would have supper and breakfast properly andconveniently served.
I had supposed the mosquitoes and the midges were as thick in ourwagons as it would be possible to find them anywhere; but when we cameinto that house the place was swarming with them, and they prevented usfrom closing our eyes in rest during the entire night. Never was a girlbetter pleased than I when the first light of day came in through thewindows.
COOKING IN FRONT OF A FIREPLACE
After striving to cook food in front of one of the two fireplaces inthat house, I was actually ashamed of having complained because ourstove in the wagon on a stormy morning had seemed to me like somecontrary animal.
However much trouble we might have had with wet fuel and lack of draftowing to the shortness of the stovepipe, it was as nothing comparedwith those rude fireplaces, where our faces were burned almost to acrisp, our eyes filled with smoke, and whatever was cooking came fromthe heat thickly incrusted with ashes.
I resolved not to grumble at anything we might find in California,provided we had conveniences where we could cook with some degree ofcomfort, and a place in which to lie down where we would be protectedfrom insects.
TRAPPERS, HUNTERS, AND INDIANS
I suppose Eben might describe Fort Laramie so that it would to astranger present the appearance of a stronghold; but for my part I sawthere only scores upon scores of savages, loitering around outside thewalls, gambling, racing horses, bartering furs, or gorging themselveswith half-cooked meat, while here and there could be seen the noisytrappers, some dressed fancifully after the fashion of the Indians, andothers decked out in buckskin clothing.
There were boasting hunters who swaggered around, peering curiouslyunder our wagon covers when we had taken refuge there; and all around,corralled or feeding near at hand, were cattle and ponies almostwithout number.
Our company was not the only party of Pikers at Fort Laramie. It seemedto me there must have been three or four hundred who had been travelingas we had traveled, some hoping to go into that land of Oregon whichwas represented as being wondrously beautiful, and others bound forCalifornia.
Ellen and I would have visited among the strange Pikers had it notbeen for the throngs of trappers, hunters, and Indians, such as I havealready written about. Mother declared it would be well for us girls tostay in our wagon, and this she came to believe firmly after two of thetrappers engaged in a downright battle wherein both used knives, andboth were sorely wounded.
The people round about did not appear to think this fighting wickedor strange, and
instead of endeavoring to make peace among them, all,even a few women, stood around watching the fray as if it was someexhibition of an innocent nature.
I was sick with the sights of Fort Laramie even before mother sentEllen and me to the wagon, and felt well content to remain there untilnext morning, never grumbling when I struggled to keep a fire going inthe stove in order that we might cook supper.
ON THE TRAIL ONCE MORE
It seemed to me that every member of our company, with the possibleexception of Eben Jordan, was delighted when the word had been passedaround during the evening that we should pull out at early daybreak.
We were getting near to that forking of the trail where we would bearsouthward and then westward, passing around a great salt sea on our wayto California.
We soon came among the foothills, and it was really a relief to beclimbing up one hill and sliding down another, instead of driving overa level plain where was nothing to vary the monotony. Although Ellenand I were pleased with this change in the appearance of the country,our fathers found little in it to give them pleasure, for we had cometo where grass was scanty and the way difficult for the animals.
As father said, from then on we might suffer such privations andhardships as we had not experienced since leaving Independence; butthat I could hardly credit, for it did not seem to me possible we wouldhave more discomfort than when we were marching in the rain, with theground so soft that the cattle could only with difficulty drag thewagon along.
I suppose our people did have some trouble in finding grass for theanimals; but we girls knew little regarding such matters. Our work wasto aid in preparing the meals, and, as Ellen said, in keeping our mindsas cheerful as possible; these tasks we performed to the best of ourability, without hearing very much of the perplexities of the men, savewhen Eben Jordan came to us with tales of trouble.
INDEPENDENCE ROCK
After leaving Fort Laramie the first thing which particularly attractedmy attention was a perfect mountain of rock, fully a hundred feet inheight and more than a mile in circumference, father told me, whichstood near the Sweetwater River, between the ranges of mountains whichborder the Sweetwater Valley.
It was an "imposing work of nature," so Colonel Russell said; but to methe most interesting thing about it was that the first celebration ofthe Fourth of July by a company of people bound to Oregon was held atthe place. On the rocks, as high up as one can see, are a multitude ofnames, many, many hundreds, some painted, and others cut into the softstone by those who had visited the place.
Another thing about Independence Rock which causes me to remember iteven more than as "an imposing work of nature," was that near it onecould pick up all the saleratus he needed, for there are veritableponds of it, where, so father said, water filled with the salts hadevaporated, leaving the saleratus itself in pools which looked as ifmade of milk.
Next morning we came upon a great gap in the mountain wall which iscalled the Devil's Gate; through it flows a beautiful stream, on thebanks of which we found wild currants and gooseberries in greatestabundance.
ARRIVAL AT FORT BRIDGER
About the middle of July we arrived at Fort Bridger, where we were toturn off upon the California trail, and where, if Ellen's advice hadbeen followed, this story of mine would have begun.
Why it should be called _Fort_ Bridger I fail to understand, for thereare no signs of a fort about, but only three or four miserable log hutsin which live two fur traders with their trappers and hunters.
One might have believed it quite an important place, however, becausewhen we arrived there were no less than five hundred Indians of theSnake tribe encamped round about the log huts. Beyond them on everyhand could be seen wagon train after wagon train of people who had comenot only from Pike County, but from Ohio and Indiana, as well as fromIllinois and Missouri, the greater number intent on gaining the Oregoncountry, with perhaps two hundred who were going to California.
Of course there were also at this place hunters and trappers, traderscoming from or going into Oregon or California, Spaniards, Negroes, andred men, the greater number of all this throng living in canvas tents,in wagons or log huts, while the rest made shift as best they might inthe open air.
It was, like Fort Laramie, a place where Ellen and I had best remainin the wagons, for no one could tell what the savages might do if twogirls wandered among their lodges, and certainly we had no desire tomake their acquaintance.
Here, as everywhere since leaving Independence, we heard that songwhich by this time had grown threadbare,--
"My name it is Joe Bowers."
The Negroes and the Spaniards, the trappers and the hunters, were allsinging it, and the wonder to Ellen and me was where so many peoplecould have heard it.
WITH OUR FACES TOWARD CALIFORNIA
After spending one day at Fort Bridger we set off early in the morningwith our faces turned toward California, and our hearts beatingfuriously. For the first time since leaving home it seemed as if wewere really on the journey.
The trail ran up hill or down, all the way, but there was very littledifference, so far as hardships were concerned, from that which we hadalready experienced.
During the first three or four days our fathers had no difficulty infinding grass and water in plenty for the cattle, although there weretimes, of course, when for mile after mile we passed through nothingbut sage grass, which even the oxen would not eat. Every night duringthis time, we came upon a pleasant place in which to camp, and, bestof all, so Eben Jordan thought, the game was abundant everywhere. Whenhe had shot a small bear and brought it into camp, it seemed as if hiscup of happiness was full. One might have thought the lad had performedsome wondrous deed, from the way he strutted to and fro, repeatingmarvelous accounts of his battle with the beast.
AT BEAR RIVER
It was when we came to Bear River that I began to understand howdifferent this trail was from the one which we had been traveling.
Instead of finding a safe ford, we came upon a swiftly running river,with a bed of rocks. So strong was the current that when father wadedin to drive the oxen it was necessary for him to hold firmly to the bowof the foremost yoke lest he be thrown from his footing; the heavy cartpitched about until I was certain it would be overturned even as hadMrs. Russell's.
Mother said that if such an accident should befall us, it would be nomore than a just punishment to Ellen and me because we had laughed sorudely when the Russell family were in trouble.
THE COMING OF WINTER
Two days after leaving Fort Bridger we had the first indication thatwinter was near at hand, even though it was then July. That night thebuckets of water were crusted with ice a full half inch thick, andupon the tops of the mountains which towered so high above us snow hadfallen.
You can well fancy how we shivered while making ready to cookbreakfast. When the train had started, Ellen and I crawled under thebed clothing, for it seemed as if we were like to freeze, and no oneknows how long we might have remained had not mother insisted that weshould sit once more on the front seat, where we could see the wondrousbeauties everywhere around us.
Just at that time we were traveling through what seemed to be amountain gorge; towering many hundred feet above our heads on eitherside were crags which had been formed in the most comical figures. Someof them really looked like animals, and I could see now and then thehead of an elephant or of a lion.
Later in the day father told us that we had passed in the earlymorning, while Ellen and I were asleep, a rock which looked so muchlike a beast that the trappers had given it the name of the Elephant'sStatue.
During nearly two days we continued along these rocky roads, with themountains overshadowing us, and in places the cliffs hanging so lowthat it seemed as if the rumbling of our wagons must cause them to fallupon our heads.
The next night we kept a fire in the cookstove because of the heavyfrost in th
e air; then we came to a narrow pass between the mountains,where was a gorge or chasm, so deep that we could readily believe EbenJordan when he said the people at Fort Bridger told him the sun neverpenetrated to the bottom.
It was what is known as Ogden's Hole, and got its name, according toone story, through being the death place of a trapper by the name ofOgden, who had hidden himself there from the Indians and was eitherkilled by them or starved to death, Eben was not certain which.
UTAH INDIANS
There among the mountains we met a party of Utah Indians armed onlywith bows and arrows, and they journeyed with us until we camped forthe night, counting as a matter of course upon our feeding them.
The Utahs looked to me more manly than any other Indians we had yetmet. Surely they behaved themselves in a seemly manner, for when supperhad been made ready, they seated themselves in a circle and waiteddecently to be invited to partake of food.
On the following morning, after we had traveled about two miles, wecame upon mountains which looked as if they were standing there tobar our advance, and for the life of us neither Ellen nor I couldunderstand how it would be possible to continue the journey.
Even the men of the company were perplexed, and during half an hour ormore the entire train was halted while our people went first this wayand then that, seeking some trail over which we could pass.
Martha of California: A Story of the California Trail Page 5
