Martha of California: A Story of the California Trail

After striving to cook food in front of one of the two fireplaces in that house, I was actually ashamed of having complained because our stove in the wagon on a stormy morning had seemed to me like some contrary animal.

However much trouble we might have had with wet fuel and lack of draft owing to the shortness of the stovepipe, it was as nothing compared with those rude fireplaces, where our faces were burned almost to a crisp, our eyes filled with smoke, and whatever was cooking came from the 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 of comfort, and a place in which to lie down where we would be protected from insects.

TRAPPERS, HUNTERS, AND INDIANS

I suppose Eben might describe Fort Laramie so that it would to a stranger present the appearance of a stronghold; but for my part I saw there only scores upon scores of savages, loitering around outside the walls, gambling, racing horses, bartering furs, or gorging themselves with half-cooked meat, while here and there could be seen the noisy trappers, some dressed fancifully after the fashion of the Indians, and others decked out in buckskin clothing.

There were boasting hunters who swaggered around, peering curiously under our wagon covers when we had taken refuge there; and all around, corralled or feeding near at hand, were cattle and ponies almost without number.

Our company was not the only party of Pikers at Fort Laramie. It seemed to me there must have been three or four hundred who had been traveling as we had traveled, some hoping to go into that land of Oregon which was represented as being wondrously beautiful, and others bound for California.

Ellen and I would have visited among the strange Pikers had it not been for the throngs of trappers, hunters, and Indians, such as I have already written about. Mother declared it would be well for us girls to stay in our wagon, and this she came to believe firmly after two of the trappers engaged in a downright battle wherein both used knives, and both were sorely wounded.

The people round about did not appear to think this fighting wicked or strange, and instead of endeavoring to make peace among them, all, even a few women, stood around watching the fray as if it was some exhibition of an innocent nature.

I was sick with the sights of Fort Laramie even before mother sent Ellen and me to the wagon, and felt well content to remain there until next morning, never grumbling when I struggled to keep a fire going in the 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 possible exception of Eben Jordan, was delighted when the word had been passed around during the evening that we should pull out at early daybreak.

We were getting near to that forking of the trail where we would bear southward and then westward, passing around a great salt sea on our way to California.

We soon came among the foothills, and it was really a relief to be climbing up one hill and sliding down another, instead of driving over a level plain where was nothing to vary the monotony. Although Ellen and 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 come to where grass was scanty and the way difficult for the animals.

As father said, from then on we might suffer such privations and hardships as we had not experienced since leaving Independence; but that I could hardly credit, for it did not seem to me possible we would have more discomfort than when we were marching in the rain, with the ground so soft that the cattle could only with difficulty drag the wagon along.

I suppose our people did have some trouble in finding grass for the animals; but we girls knew little regarding such matters. Our work was to aid in preparing the meals, and, as Ellen said, in keeping our minds as cheerful as possible; these tasks we performed to the best of our ability, without hearing very much of the perplexities of the men, save when Eben Jordan came to us with tales of trouble.

INDEPENDENCE ROCK

After leaving Fort Laramie the first thing which particularly attracted my attention was a perfect mountain of rock, fully a hundred feet in height and more than a mile in circumference, father told me, which stood near the Sweetwater River, between the ranges of mountains which border the Sweetwater Valley.

It was an "imposing work of nature," so Colonel Russell said; but to me the most interesting thing about it was that the first celebration of the Fourth of July by a company of people bound to Oregon was held at the place. On the rocks, as high up as one can see, are a multitude of names, many, many hundreds, some painted, and others cut into the soft stone by those who had visited the place.

Another thing about Independence Rock which causes me to remember it even more than as "an imposing work of nature," was that near it one could pick up all the saleratus he needed, for there are veritable ponds of it, where, so father said, water filled with the salts had evaporated, leaving the saleratus itself in pools which looked as if made of milk.

Next morning we came upon a great gap in the mountain wall which is called the Devil's Gate; through it flows a beautiful stream, on the banks of which we found wild currants and gooseberries in greatest abundance.

ARRIVAL AT FORT BRIDGER

About the middle of July we arrived at Fort Bridger, where we were to turn off upon the California trail, and where, if Ellen's advice had been followed, this story of mine would have begun.

Why it should be called Fort Bridger I fail to understand, for there are no signs of a fort about, but only three or four miserable log huts in which live two fur traders with their trappers and hunters.

One might have believed it quite an important place, however, because when we arrived there were no less than five hundred Indians of the Snake tribe encamped round about the log huts. Beyond them on every hand could be seen wagon train after wagon train of people who had come not only from Pike County, but from Ohio and Indiana, as well as from Illinois and Missouri, the greater number intent on gaining the Oregon country, with perhaps two hundred who were going to California.

Of course there were also at this place hunters and trappers, traders coming from or going into Oregon or California, Spaniards, Negroes, and red 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 in the open air.

It was, like Fort Laramie, a place where Ellen and I had best remain in the wagons, for no one could tell what the savages might do if two girls wandered among their lodges, and certainly we had no desire to make their acquaintance.

Here, as everywhere since leaving Independence, we heard that song which by this time had grown threadbare, —

"My name it is Joe Bowers."

The Negroes and the Spaniards, the trappers and the hunters, were all singing it, and the wonder to Ellen and me was where so many people could have heard it.

WITH OUR FACES TOWARD CALIFORNIA

After spending one day at Fort Bridger we set off early in the morning with our faces turned toward California, and our hearts beating furiously. For the first time since leaving home it seemed as if we were really on the journey.

The trail ran up hill or down, all the way, but there was very little difference, so far as hardships were concerned, from that which we had already experienced.

During the first three or four days our fathers had no difficulty in finding grass and water in plenty for the cattle, although there were times, of course, when for mile after mile we passed through nothing but sage grass, which even the oxen would not eat. Every night during this time, we came upon a pleasant place in which to camp, and, best of all, so Eben Jordan thought, the game was abundant everywhere. When he had shot a small bear and brought it into camp, it seemed as if his cup of happiness was full. One might have thought the lad had performed some wondrous deed, from the way he strutted to and fro, repeating marvelous accounts of his battle with the beast.

AT BEAR RIVER

It was when we came to Bear River that I began to understand how different 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 waded in to drive the oxen it was necessary for him to hold firmly to the bow of the foremost yoke lest he be thrown from his footing; the heavy cart pitched about until I was certain it would be overturned even as had Mrs. Russell's.

Mother said that if such an accident should befall us, it would be no more than a just punishment to Ellen and me because we had laughed so rudely when the Russell family were in trouble.

THE COMING OF WINTER

Two days after leaving Fort Bridger we had the first indication that winter was near at hand, even though it was then July. That night the buckets of water were crusted with ice a full half inch thick, and upon the tops of the mountains which towered so high above us snow had fallen.

You can well fancy how we shivered while making ready to cook breakfast. When the train had started, Ellen and I crawled under the bed clothing, for it seemed as if we were like to freeze, and no one knows how long we might have remained had not mother insisted that we should sit once more on the front seat, where we could see the wondrous beauties everywhere around us.

Just at that time we were traveling through what seemed to be a mountain gorge; towering many hundred feet above our heads on either side were crags which had been formed in the most comical figures. Some of them really looked like animals, and I could see now and then the head of an elephant or of a lion.

Later in the day father told us that we had passed in the early morning, while Ellen and I were asleep, a rock which looked so much like a beast that the trappers had given it the name of the Elephant's Statue.

During nearly two days we continued along these rocky roads, with the mountains overshadowing us, and in places the cliffs hanging so low that it seemed as if the rumbling of our wagons must cause them to fall upon our heads.

The next night we kept a fire in the cookstove because of the heavy frost in the air; then we came to a narrow pass between the mountains, where was a gorge or chasm, so deep that we could readily believe Eben Jordan when he said the people at Fort Bridger told him the sun never penetrated to the bottom.

It was what is known as Ogden's Hole, and got its name, according to one story, through being the death place of a trapper by the name of Ogden, who had hidden himself there from the Indians and was either killed 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 only with bows and arrows, and they journeyed with us until we camped for the night, counting as a matter of course upon our feeding them.

The Utahs looked to me more manly than any other Indians we had yet met. Surely they behaved themselves in a seemly manner, for when supper had been made ready, they seated themselves in a circle and waited decently to be invited to partake of food.

On the following morning, after we had traveled about two miles, we came upon mountains which looked as if they were standing there to bar our advance, and for the life of us neither Ellen nor I could understand how it would be possible to continue the journey.