7th. Had a bad night last night; it rained and snowed nearly all night. Had about two inches of snow on the ground this morning. It cleared off about 10 A.M., when we struck our tent and started on the long journey. Weather came off fine and warm; find some grass but none to amount to anything; still have to cut dry grass. We made 20 miles to-day, and camped on a small creek. We have nine teams in company that expect to go through together, although we are not organized, viz: (besides myself) Thomas Trimble, and William Sublett & Co., Stephen Ainsly and party, Litwiler and company, and Daughterty and company. We have mechanics of every trade, and various musicians, and while I am writing, one of the company is enlivening the solitude with a fine toned key bugle; one ought to be here in the wilderness to know the value of music. We have 37 men in our party, and if the other teams come up and join us we shall have 41. This I think is a large enough party, as we cannot camp any where after this without being near other companies, several of whom are now camped above and below us. We expect to go as far as the Indian Mission to-morrow.
12 miles.
8th. Made 14 miles over a rather hilly country, and passed the Indian Mission, and camped two miles from it on a creek. We found some fine farms at this mission; it was a pleasing sight to us to see the wheat fields; they appeared to compare well with the wheat fields of Illinois. Passed some dead horses on the road to-day; also some graves of those buried last year. Several teams came up and joined us this night.
14 miles.
9th. Traveled about 25 miles to-day over a prairie country, passed several more graves made last year. We have not seen any fresh ones yet, but found more dead horses. This is the result of feeding too much corn with no hay or grass. The grass seems to be getting a little better as we get on. Have had a very hot day, and dry, and good roads with the exception of two or three mud holes. Some more teams came up and camped with us—we turned off from the road and camped on a small creek.
25 miles.
10th. Had 21 wagons in our train this morning. We call all hands at 4 o'clock A.M. now, and start about ½ past 6. Had some rain last night, when the wind shifted to the north-west, very cold, and we have had one of the best roads to-day that I ever saw; plank roads are no comparison to it, and have passed over the most beautiful prairie country in the world, with little timber, and that dwarf burr oak, but the soil is equal to the best in Illinois. We turned off from the road about one mile and camped on a branch, about 3 o'clock, P.M. The grass is still improving. We have about 75 men in our company, which is too many, so many cannot agree. While I am writing, two of them are very near fighting, and the captain, Wm. Soublett stands between them, as this is the only means of keeping them apart. We cannot go on long with so many, I think. Passed some more graves, and dead horses to-day; in fact we expect to every day. It looks bad to see so many at this end of the route.
25 miles.
11th. Drove 22 miles to-day. Passed a Chicago wagon broken down at a creek; Hugunin, of Waukegan, belonged to the party. The country is prairie, without timber, excepting a few scattering trees on the creeks. We were delayed some time by a train of ox teams at a creek; while we were watering I fell asleep, and came very near being left behind the team. Ford came back and roused me. I stood guard last night, which was the cause of my being so sleepy; passed several dead horses, and the graves of many buried last year.
22 miles.