“The sun shone down upon us with intense heat as we travelled through Iowa, and the people from the farm-houses and villages came out to see us, and wondered at our rashness in undertaking such a journey. They were very kind to us, and came and visited us in our camps, and offered some of the men work and good wages if they would stay there instead of going on to Zion. A few of the people accepted these offers; but the Elders, as you may suppose, watched carefully every company and every man; and in the evening, when meetings for prayer and preaching were held, we were earnestly exhorted to obedience, and the sin of acting upon our own judgments was set forth in the very plainest terms. The kindness of the Iowa people, however, encouraged us, and they freely gave to those who most needed whatever they could to help us on our way.
“And we needed help and sympathy.
“Of course, with only one waggon to carry all the provisions for a hundred persons, besides five tents, our supply of food was very limited. At that period of the journey the grown-up people were allowed ten ounces of flour a day and a little—and but a very little—coffee, sugar, rice, and bacon. This was a very scanty allowance for people who all day long had to draw the hand-carts or to trudge mile after mile in all that burning heat and dust—but we never complained. Some of the men ate all their rations at breakfast, and went without anything more until the next morning, unless they were able to beg a little of some friendly farmer by the way. The little children received just half as much as the others. With a very small amount of management this inconvenience might certainly have been avoided, for provisions of all sorts were very cheap in the districts through which we passed. Some of the more thoughtful saints, I know, felt very bitterly the injustice of this; for, as you are aware, we had paid all our expenses in full—even to the uttermost farthing; and we had been promised in return a safe and sufficient outfit with plenty of provisions, and in fact all that was necessary. Had we been left to ourselves, we should of course have provided for every contingency; but we came in obedience to counsel under the direction of the Church, and after we had paid for everything; the Church even ‘took care’ of our money, so that we therefore could not procure necessaries by the way, as otherwise we might have done.
“Thus wearily, and suffering not a little privation, we travelled all through Iowa, until we came to the Missouri river and encamped at Florence, a place about six miles north of Omaha, and there we remained about a week, preparing for our journey across the Plains.
“It was the middle of August when we arrived at Florence, and we had been delayed so much on the way that it appeared to many of the more experienced that it would now be the height of imprudence for us to cross the Plains at that season. With old people, delicate women, and little children, and without carriages of any sort—except the frail hand-carts that carried our bedding—it would be a weary, long time, before we could reach Salt Lake. Every step must be trudged on foot, and it was quite impossible that we could walk many miles a day, while there was before us a journey of over a thousand. Some of the Elders proposed that we should settle where we were, or somewhere near by, until the following spring, and then go on to Zion; but others who were more confident urged that we should proceed at once. The Elders called a great meeting to settle the matter, at which we were all present.
“I should tell you that when we first started our whole company was placed under the guidance of Elder James G. Willie as captain; and we were again subdivided into five parties of about one hundred each, and over every hundred was placed an Elder or sub-captain. The first hundred was headed by Elder Atwood, the second by Levi Savage, the third by William Woodward, the fourth by John Chislett, and the fifth by Elder Ahmensen. About two hundred of the people were Scotch and Scandinavians; nearly all the rest were English. All were assembled at the meeting. You know, Sister Stenhouse, how meetings were held at home. Well, it was just the same there. We, of course, had nothing really to say—we had only to obey counsel and sanction the decision of the leading Elders. I used to feel annoyed rather at that sort of thing in London, as you may remember; but now, when life and death depended upon the wisdom of our decision, with all my faith, I felt worse than annoyed, wicked as I have no doubt it was for me to feel so. My husband never uttered a word, but I know he felt much as I did, and in that he was not alone among the Elders.
“We had neither vote nor influence—the Elders held our destiny in their hands. In all our company there were only three or four men who had been out to Salt Lake before, and of course they could not be overlooked, so they gave their opinion at the meeting. They must have fully known the dangers and difficulties of the way, and what hardships must overtake a company so scantily provided for as was ours, if we continued our journey. But, for all that, they not only spoke slightingly of the danger which threatened us, but prophesied, in the name of the Lord, that we should pass through triumphantly and suffer neither loss nor harm.
“One man alone—Levi Savage—dared to tell the truth. People well-mounted, or even with good ox-teams, could safely and easily make the journey, he said; but for a band of people like ourselves, with aged folks, and women, and little children, to attempt it so late was little short of madness. He strongly urged that we should take up our quarters there for the Winter, when, he said, as soon as spring came on, we could safely and successfully perform the remainder of our journey.
“The other Elders thought that he was weak in the faith, and plainly told him so; and one of them even said, ‘he’d eat all the snow that fell between Florence and Salt Lake City.’ The people, of course, believed without question what they were told to believe, for they had long ago made up their minds that the leaders were inspired, and therefore they dared not doubt them, and the prudent counsel of Brother Savage was rejected accordingly. I was not near enough to hear his words, but I was afterwards told that he said, ‘What I have said, I know is the truth; but as you are counselled to go forward, I will go with you; I will work, and rest, and suffer with you; and, if God wills it so, I will also die with you.’ Never was man more faithful to his word than was Brother Savage, and often after that, when sickness, and weariness, and cold, and hunger, and death, overtook us—as he had foreseen—he never for one moment forgot the promise which he had so solemnly made.
“Then—the middle of August being passed—we left Florence behind us, and began our weary journey across the Plains in much the same fashion as we had already travelled through Iowa. We had, however, taken fresh provisions to last us until we reached Utah, and as the oxen could not draw so much extra weight, one sack, weighing about a hundred pounds, was placed on each of the hand-carts, in addition to the other baggage. This was a severe tax upon the endurance of the people, but most of them bore it without a murmur. On the other hand, we fared a little better in the matter of provisions, for we were allowed a pound of flour a day each, and also, occasionally, a little fresh beef, and besides that each hundred had three or four milch cows. As we continued our journey, and the provisions were consumed, the burdens on the carts, of course, grew lighter.