Aside from the duties of the nightly encampment and morning "catch-up," life upon the migration progressed much as in settled communities. There were instances of courtship, marriage, illness, and death, and not infrequently births, among the migrating families. These, together with the ever-shifting panorama of sky, plains, and mountains, made the incidents of the long and tedious journey. Occasionally there appeared upon the horizon an Indian gazing silently at these invaders of his tribal domain, and at times he came even to the wagon wheels to beg or trade; the mere numbers of the travellers gave him abundant caution not to attempt hostilities. The wagons were so numerous as to render a compact caravan troublesome to manage and disagreeable to travel with. The great cavalcade soon broke into smaller groups, over one of which, composed of thirty wagons, Palmer was chosen captain.
At Fort Laramie they rested, and feasted the Indians, who, in wonderment and not unnatural consternation, swarmed about them in the guise of beggars. Palmer afterwards harangued the aboriginal visitors, telling them frankly that their entertainers were no traders, they "were going to plough and plant the ground," that their relatives were coming behind them, and these he hoped the red men would treat kindly and allow free passage—a thinly veiled suggestion that the white army of occupation had come to stay and must not be interfered with by the native population, or vengeance would follow.
From Fort Laramie the invaders, for from the standpoint of the Indians such of course were our Western pioneers, followed the usual trail to the newly-established supply depot at Fort Bridger. Thence they went by way of Soda Springs to Fort Hall, where was found awaiting them a delegation from California, seeking, with but slight success, to persuade a portion of the emigrants in that direction. Following Lewis River on its long southern bend, the travellers at last reached Fort Boise, where provisions could be purchased from Hudson's Bay officials, and a final breathing-spell be taken before attempting the most difficult part of the journey—the passage of the Blue and Cascade ranges.
A considerable company of the emigrants, accompanied by the pilot, Stephen H. Meek, left the main party near Fort Hall, to force a new route to the Willamette without following Columbia River. The essay was, however, disastrous. Meek became bewildered, and was obliged to secrete himself to escape the revenge of the exasperated travellers, who reached the Dalles of the Columbia in an exhausted condition, having lost many of their number through hunger and physical hardships.
Palmer himself continued with the main caravan on the customary route through the Grande Ronde, down the Umatilla and the Columbia, arriving at the Dalles by the closing days of September. Here a new difficulty faced the weary pioneers—there was no wagon road beyond the Dalles; boats to transport the intending colonists were few, and had been pre-empted by the early arrivals, while provisions at the Dalles would soon be exhausted. In this situation Palmer determined to join Samuel K. Barlow and his company in an attempt to cross the Cascades south of Mount Hood, and lead the way overland to the Willamette valley. This proved an arduous task, calling for all the skill and fortitude of experienced pathfinders. In its course, Palmer ascended Mount Hood, which he describes as "a sight more nobly grand" than any he had ever looked upon. At last the valley of the Clackamas was reached, and Oregon City, the little capital of the new territory, was attained, where "we were so filled with gratitude that we had reached the settlements of the white man, and with admiration at the appearance of the large sheet of water rolling over the Falls, that we stopped, and in this moment of happiness recounted our toils, in thought, with more rapidity than tongue can express or pen write." The distance that he had travelled from Independence, Missouri, our author estimates at 1,960 miles.
Passing the winter of 1845-46 in Oregon, Palmer made a careful examination of its resources, and in his book describes the country in much detail. The ensuing spring, after a journey to the Lapwai mission for horses, he started on the return route, arriving at his home in Laurel, Indiana, upon the twenty-third of July.
Palmer's experience, although trying, had been sufficiently satisfactory to justify his intention to make a permanent home in Oregon. In 1847 he took his family thither, the emigration of that year being sometimes known as "Palmer's train," he having been elected captain of the entire caravan, also in recognition of his great utility to the expedition. The new caravan had but just arrived in Oregon—now belonging definitely to the United States—when the Whitman massacre aroused the colonists to punish the Indian participants in order to ensure their own safety. In the organization of the militia force, Joel Palmer was chosen quartermaster and commissary general, whence the title of General, by which he was subsequently known.
He was also made one of two commissioners to attempt to treat with the recalcitrant tribes, and win to neutrality as many as possible. Accompanied by Dr. Robert Newell, a former mountain man, and Perrin Whitman, the murdered man's nephew, as interpreter, Palmer risked his life in the land of the hostiles, and succeeded in alienating many Nez Percés and Wallawalla from the guilty Cayuse. Thus was laid the foundation of that full knowledge of aboriginal character that availed him in his service as United States superintendent of Indians for Oregon.