Martha of California: A Story of the California Trail

Two full days were spent in curing the meat and making pemmican, and even then we did not continue the journey immediately, for the work had brought our clothing to such a condition that a day for washing was absolutely necessary. Therefore we remained for another twenty-four hours.

We were encamped near a small stream where could be had plenty of water for the animals, and on either side of this tiny creek, shortly after sunrise, could be seen many fires, kettles, and washtubs.

What a tired girl I was when I stretched myself out on mother's feather bed in the wagon that night! It seemed to me that I had no more than closed my eyes before I was asleep, and not until father was bustling around inside the wagon next morning trying to build a fire in the cookstove, did I awake.

Then the patter, patter of rain on the wagon covering told that we were to be treated to another downpour of water, and eager though I was to reach California, I hoped most fervently we would remain in camp yet longer.

UNCOMFORTABLE TRAVELING

It was really difficult for me to open my eyes, so heavily did slumber weigh upon them, when I asked father if he had any idea of setting off in such a storm, at the same time reminding him how our beasts had struggled through the mud during the last rain.

He laughingly told me that we would continue on the trail, regardless of the weather; that a rain storm was not to be compared in the way of discomfort with snow. He said that unless we came to our journey's end before the season of frost set in, we might never arrive, but would be in danger of perishing, as others had who, striving to reach California, had been overtaken by winter among the mountains.

"So long as the cattle are in condition to push on, just so long shall we continue to march, regardless of whether the rain falls or the sun shines," he said, speaking very solemnly, and mother's face grew grave as if she was already beginning to understand the better what might be before us.

"There will be all too many days when we must remain in camp; but now, after such a long rest, it would be little less than wicked to remain idle here simply because it might be more to our comfort."

There is little need for me to explain how disagreeable it is to get up in the morning and attempt to keep a fire going with wet fuel.

Everything was damp and uncomfortable to the touch, and all the surroundings looked much as Ellen and I felt when we helped mother prepare breakfast.

After that very unsatisfactory meal had been eaten, for we had nothing save some half-fried bacon with cold corn bread, not being able to make coffee because the fire would persist in going out, the train was started. Ellen and I, crouching in the rear end of the wagon where the rain could not drive in upon us, sat close to the stove, which now seemed warmer than when we were trying to cook breakfast, and talked of the future.

Of course I cannot set down all we said, for much of it was foolish; but some of the conversation I have remembered clearly even to this day.

ELLEN'S ADVICE REGARDING THE STORY

Ellen, when I had told her it was my intent to write the story of our coming from Pike County, said that it would not be proper for me to write anything about what we saw or did while on the Oregon trail. We were bound for California, and would not be upon the direct road to that country until we had left Fort Bridger.

It was her idea that I should begin the story with the time when we turned from the trail leading to Oregon, and set our faces directly toward California; but, as has been seen, I nearly forgot her advice, and even now it seems impossible to do exactly as she proposed.

I intend, however, in order to please her, to set down only such matters as seem to me of the greatest importance, and thereby hurry over a certain portion of the march, beginning in earnest with the time when we finally came to Fort Bridger.

INDIANS AND MOSQUITOES

Now you must bear in mind, although I may not speak of them again, that we were constantly meeting with Indians. Hardly a day passed that we did not come upon a village, meet a party of hunters, or receive visits from groups of two, three, or four who came to beg.

Strange though it may seem, we became accustomed to the savages as one does to seeing a dog or a cat around the house, and gave little or no attention to them save when they made themselves disagreeable.

One other thing I will speak about now. Mosquitoes and tiny flies, which seemed as fierce as tigers, were with us all the time by day as well as by night.

When we first left Independence, it was difficult for me to sleep at night because of these insects, and during the day I spent the greater portion of my time striving to keep them off my hands or face. As the journey progressed it seemed as if they became less poisonous; but I suppose my body had become accustomed to the wounds, and I gave little heed to them except when the weather was exceedingly warm.

Until we came among the foothills, which is to say, after we left Fort Bridger, we found game in abundance. What had been sport to Eben became now a real labor, and he sought for fresh meat only when urged to do so by his father or some of us girls.

There were days when our men brought in no game because they were unable to come across any; but we were in a country abounding with deer, elks, buffaloes, and even bears, and so did not suffer for food.

PRAIRIE DOGS

Even though I say nothing more regarding the remainder of our journey over the Oregon trail, I must speak of the little prairie dogs which we came upon from time to time.

They live in villages, sometimes, as father has said, several acres in extent, and their houses are holes in the ground, with a top or extension, made of earth which they have pushed up from beneath.

Eben Jordan declares, and several men in the company who have talked with the trappers or hunters say, that in every prairie dog's house may be found a little gray owl, who has lodgings there, and oftentimes with this owl is a rattlesnake. Now just fancy the prairie dog, the owl, and the rattlesnake living together! All I ever saw of the family was the dog, and he is about the size of a large rat, with hair which is a mixture of light brown and black in color.

It is impossible for me to tell you how entertaining these little creatures are. When we passed by the villages you could see them scampering around and barking. Again and again I have seen them playing about or sitting on the top of their houses, giving no heed to us until the wagon train was close upon them, when the entire colony would pop into 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 whether or not you saw how quickly he could get under cover when it pleased him to do so.

I know of nothing more comical than these little animals, and yet they look so much like rats that I would greatly prefer to see them at a distance rather than make any attempt at taming them, as Eben Jordan declares 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 he is 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 to double up the teams in order to draw the heavy loads along, and Colonel Russell's wagon upset in midstream, where the water was two or three feet 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 that was going on, laughed until I felt actually ashamed of myself. It was all so ridiculous that I could not have kept my face straight whatever might have been the result.

If the accident had happened quickly, there would not have been anything so very funny about it; but, instead, the wagon toppled slowly, the men striving meanwhile to prevent it from going entirely over. In the heavy wagon were Mrs. Russell and four children. We saw first the youngest child, as if some one had tossed him out, come shooting from the wagon and strike the water. Then another child, and so on, one after another, exactly like a lot of grasshoppers, until Mrs. 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 neighbors were suffering; but even as she spoke the Russell procession passed along the edge of the bank, marking the way with mud and water, and I noticed that it was all she could do to keep her face straight while she scolded us.

CHIMNEY ROCK

When finally we crossed the Platte River, the men of the company rejoiced, although I was unable to learn why, except that it marked, as mother suggested, the first stage of the journey, the second of which would come to an end at Fort Bridger, and the third in that land where we hoped to settle.

Not long after crossing this river we had a first glimpse of that enormous mass which travelers speak of as Court House Rock, which, so those who have seen both say, looks from the distance not unlike the Capitol at Washington. A few miles farther on we saw another huge pile called Chimney Rock.

I doubt not but that both would have been well worth the seeing, yet our desire to look at them more closely was not gratified. The trail leads some distance off, and when mother proposed to father that we might 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 were bent on finding new homes had no time to fritter away in looking at this odd thing or at that.

Eben Jordan, however, borrowing one of his father's horses, rode off to Chimney Rock by himself, and when he came back he told Ellen and me that we need not shed many tears because of failing to see it close at hand, because it was nothing more than a lot of big stones that looked as if they might have been carelessly plastered together with mud.

Of course this couldn't be the fact; but Eben has no eye for scenery and, I dare say, might turn his nose up at what every one else would believe 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 stands on 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 trail we came over.

Just fancy! We had traveled nearly seven hundred miles, the men of the company walking all the way; yet during that time, with the exception of the mishap to Colonel Russell's wagon and the loss of a few head of cattle, we had come to no harm.

At Fort Laramie we slept in a real house for the first time since starting on the long journey. It was not such a building as we lived in at Ashley, and yet it was to me almost beautiful, after I had remained so long in the wagon.

I fancied I would sleep on that night as never before since the march began, and that we would have supper and breakfast properly and conveniently served.

I had supposed the mosquitoes and the midges were as thick in our wagons as it would be possible to find them anywhere; but when we came into that house the place was swarming with them, and they prevented us from closing our eyes in rest during the entire night. Never was a girl better pleased than I when the first light of day came in through the windows.

COOKING IN FRONT OF A FIREPLACE