CHAPTER XXIV
THOMAS J. FARNHAM I
A curious little book, the title-page of which bears the date 1841, is Thomas J. Farnham’s, Travels in the Great Western Prairies, The Anahuac and Rocky Mountains, And in The Oregon Territory. It was published in Poughkeepsie, N. Y., by Killey & Lossing, printers. It contains nearly two hundred pages, and is printed in very fine type, and on thin paper, with small margins; so that in fact it looks more like a tract than a volume. Yet it contains about a hundred and twenty thousand words.
Its title indicates the character of the book. It is the narrative of a journey made in order to obtain “a view of the Great Prairie Wilderness, the Rocky Mountains, and the sweet vales of the Oregon Territory.”
Farnham was one of a party of fourteen men who left Peoria, Ill., on the first day of May, 1839. The company was followed by a wagon containing their provisions, ammunition, and other baggage, and each man carried “a rifle swung at his back; a powder horn, bullet pouch and long knife at his side.”
TRAIN STAMPEDED BY WILD HORSES.
From Bartlett’s Texas, New Mexico, California, etc.
Their way westward was marked by no adventure, except the usual ones of travel on the prairie; but at Quincy the author met Joe Smith, Jr., the father of the Mormon prophet, and he interrupts his narrative to give a somewhat extended account of Mormonism and the history of the Latter Day Saints up to that time. From Quincy they passed on to Independence, Mo., twenty days out from their starting point. Here the travellers beheld a sight novel to them—the breaking of green mules to harness; and after some time devoted to loitering about Independence, and making preparations for their journey, they started westward in a storm.
Farnham’s party followed the track of the Santa Fé traders, and, like others who passed over this road, they met with the Kauzaus (Kansas) Indians, whom they saw and wondered at. Early in the trip, near the Osage River, the members of Farnham’s company began to weary of prairie life, and three of his best men determined to return to the “States,” and left him. The journey continued along the Santa Fé trail, but provisions began to grow short. Game was seen from time to time, but none was killed. Continual storms drenched them, wet their packs and their ropes, and made life more or less of a burden to them. At last, however, in the latter half of June, they came to the buffalo range, overtaking there a party of Santa Fé traders.