Sunday, 16th.—This morning I thought I would hear the Missionary preach—and with several others, started for the purpose. Just before we got to the village, an Indian informed us there would be no preaching that day. We were greatly disappointed, and turned to wander about awhile and survey the country around. It was wild and picturesque, and the sight of it was gratifying. We met a number of Indians. Their language and gesture were very strange, and they presented a most outlandish appearance. Many of them came into our camp with a variety of things to sell. When we returned, our camp was nearly deserted. The men had gone to the Fort for equipments to commence our march. We hurried on, but only to be disappointed again. Too many companies were in before us. We went back to the camp, and spent the day quietly.
18th.—Every man was well fitted out with a musket and fifteen cartridges, a load of guns having been brought from the Fort. I have now become accustomed to implicit obedience to orders—going and returning on errands to the Fort—breaking mules, looking for strayed horses, cooking breakfast, washing clothes, &c. At night it rained hard, and while I tried to compose myself to sleep, I felt the shower dripping in my face.
20th.—The important morning had now arrived. It was the morning on which we were to “strike our tents, and march away” for California. All was bustle and excitement, and we poor privates had to load the wagons with provisions for our long march. It fell to my lot as usual, to handle the bacon, pork, &c. And yet another trial awaited me: we had not travelled more than a mile, when we came to a deep slough or pond, through which I had to guide a mule. It was the first time I had the honor of leading a mule in gears. I had to dismount and wade through thick mud up to my waist. I had rather carried the mule on my back over a better road. What made the matter worse, I had my new clothes on, and they were almost ruined by the adventure. On stopping to encamp, a messmate kindly poured on water, while I washed the mud off, as well as I could, and laid down in my wet garments, very weary with my day’s journey.
21st.—We are now fairly in the Indian country. The place assigned by the Government for the future residence of the tribes who have emigrated from the States. Here we found the prairies covered with grass—a seasonable supply for our horses, and a drove of ninety-five beeves which we had brought out for present use. A strong guard was stationed around the encampment, at night, as roving bands of Indians were lurking around us, ready to seize any thing they could lay their hands on. We had travelled 12 miles when our Captain thought it best to encamp for the night, as we found a little wood. The want of timber is a great defect in this otherwise beautiful country.
22nd.—We started this morning at 8 o’clock, and travelled 15 miles through a lovely region, when we came to a settlement of the Delaware Indians. Their houses and plantations bear evident marks of civilization. In company with our first Lieutenant, I called at a house, in the door of which sat two squaws making moccasons. Stretched on a bench near by, lay an Indian fast asleep. He was a man of most powerful dimensions, at least six feet four, and fat withal. By his side rested a club full of notches. We did not care to disturb his repose, for we had slight misgivings that a notch or two more in that fatal war club, might record the finale of our own history. We left him to his slumber and hastened to the river where we found several companies of our companions buying and selling among the squaws. Whiskey was the principal commodity, and a number of Indians were so much intoxicated that they could hardly tell a tree from a moccason. The ferry is kept by the Indians. The Kansas river at this place is a bold stream, it was, nevertheless, safely passed by all, using boats only for our wagons; about sunset all landed and we encamped about a mile from the river.
Sunday, 23d.—Again we started on our journey. After the first ten miles of a broken country, some high hills appeared. They were very difficult of ascent, and we had much trouble with our teams. In two places we had to put our shoulders to the wheels. Orders were given that every man should secure what wood he could find, and we commenced packing it before us, on our horses. A picturesque scene we must have presented, each man with his load of wood before him on his horse. While riding in this way we overtook Lieutenant Col. Mitchell.
24th.—After passing a few clumps of trees, an immense prairie spread out before us, extending as far as the eye could reach. At 12 o’clock we came to a branch and encamped. The water here is in standing pools, and before drinking or making coffee, we were obliged to strain it through our handkerchiefs. While thus engaged, two Indians of the Sac Tribe, made their appearance. They were elegantly mounted, but painted and tattooed in a frightful manner. They are smaller in stature than the Delawares, and at war with them. They called at our camp as a matter of curiosity. One of my mess, Levi Flowers, received a severe kick in his face from a horse which nearly killed him. His face was very much swollen.
25th.—The companies are now all united—having overtaken each other at different places. Our force was 1200 strong. We travelled all day in sight of trees like little dots on the horizon. At the end of our day’s march we hoped to find water, good water, which our poor fellows needed after a long hot march, with nothing to protect their heads from the rays of the sun but small glazed caps. The goal was reached. We rested beneath the shade of a small skirt of woods.
26th.—As usual, 8 o’clock found us ready to start. After a march of 14 miles, we encamped on Beaver Creek. We killed a beef—and the soldiers busied themselves in cooking supper. Not having conveniences of home at hand, we dispensed with our dinner daily, and satisfied ourselves with eating morning and night. Our Captain is a good sort of a man and will no doubt do the best he can for us. And now while speaking of the Captain I will say a word or two about our Lieutenants. Our first Lieutenant, Mr. White, is nearly always in a good humor. He is large and somewhat corpulent—enjoys a laugh very much. He weighs 220lbs. net. Our second Lieutenant, Mr. Smith, is of the middle size, very facetious, and always ready to accommodate. Our third Lieutenant, Mr. Rock, was formerly Captain of Militia, but volunteering to go with the army to California, we elected him third Lieutenant. He is a little over the middle size, and very reserved and stately.
27th.—After travelling twelve miles we reached the encampment of the Marion company, where we found a poor fellow who was accidentally shot last night, by a revolving pistol. Two men are left to take care of him. It is thought he cannot survive. Poor fellow! His fate is a sad one. Pursuing our journey, we passed Beaver Creek, and after travelling 18 miles, came to the Big John River, where we encamped for the night.