Transcriber's Note:

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation in the original document have been preserved.

Map to illustrate
the Story of
Martha of California

Martha of California

A Story of the California Trail

BY
JAMES OTIS

NEW YORK -:- CINCINNATI -:- CHICAGO
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

JAMES OTIS'S PIONEER SERIES

• ANTOINE OF OREGON: A Story of the Oregon Trail.
• BENJAMIN OF OHIO: A Story of the Settlement of Marietta.
• HANNAH OF KENTUCKY: A Story of the Wilderness Road.
• MARTHA OF CALIFORNIA: A Story of the California Trail.
• PHILIP OF TEXAS: A Story of Sheep Raising in Texas.
• SETH OF COLORADO: A Story of the Settlement of Denver.

Copyright, 1913, by
Mrs. A. L. KALER.
Copyright, 1913, in Great Britain.

MARTHA OF CALIFORNIA.

FOREWORD

The author of this series of stories for children has endeavored simply to show why and how the descendants of the early colonists fought their way through the wilderness in search of new homes. The several narratives deal with the struggles of those adventurous people who forced their way westward, ever westward, whether in hope of gain or in answer to "the call of the wild," and who, in so doing, wrote their names with their blood across this country of ours from the Ohio to the Columbia.

To excite in the hearts of the young people of this land a desire to know more regarding the building up of this great nation, and at the same time to entertain in such a manner as may stimulate to noble deeds, is the real aim of these stories. In them there is nothing of romance, but only a careful, truthful record of the part played by children in the great battles with those forces, human as well as natural, which, for so long a time, held a vast portion of this broad land against the advance of home seekers.

With the knowledge of what has been done by our own people in our own land, surely there is no reason why one should resort to fiction in order to depict scenes of heroism, daring, and sublime disregard of suffering in nearly every form.

JAMES OTIS.

CONTENTS

MARTHA OF CALIFORNIA

A CHANGE OF HOMES

In case one should ask in the years to come how it happened that I, Martha Early, who was born in Ashley, Pike County, in the state of Missouri, and lived there until I was twelve years old, journeyed across the prairies and deserts to California, the question can be answered if I write down what I saw when so many people from our county went to make new homes in that state where gold had been found in such abundance.

For my part, I used to wonder why people should be willing to leave Missouri, enduring the many hardships they knew awaited them on the journey of two thousand miles, in order to buy land in a country where nearly all the inhabitants were Spaniards and Mexicans.

I suppose the stories told about the wonderful quantity of gold which had suddenly been found in California caused our people to think particularly of that far-off land. When the excitement of getting rich by digging in the earth a few weeks or a few months had in a measure died away, there came tales regarding the fertile soil and the beauty of the country, until nearly every one in Pike County, as well as in the county of the same name just across the Mississippi River in the state of Illinois, much the same as had a fever for moving.

Perhaps that is why the people we met while journeying called all the emigrants "Pikers." You see there were so many from both the Pike counties who went into California in the year 1851, that it appeared to strangers as if every person on the trail had come from Pike County.

"JOE BOWERS"

Then, too, fully half of all these emigrants were singing or whistling that song of "Joe Bowers," which was supposed to have been written by a Piker, and to represent a man from Missouri or Illinois.

Surely every one remembers it. The first verse, and if I have heard it once I certainly have a thousand times, goes like this:—

"My name it is Joe Bowers

And I've got a brother Ike.

I came from old Missouri,

Yes, all the way from Pike."

The song was intended to show that this Joe Bowers came from our county, and, perhaps, because so many of the emigrants were singing it, all of us who went into California in the year 1851 were, as I have said, called "Pikers."

However the name came about, I was a Piker, and before we arrived in this wondrously beautiful country, I wished again and again that I had been almost any other than an emigrant, for the way was long, and oh! so wearisome.

I must always think of Missouri as being one of the best of all the states in the Union, because it was there I was born and there I went to school until father caught the California fever, which resulted in our setting out on a journey which, for a time, seemed endless.

My father had no idea of going so far simply to dig for gold. He had seen many who went across the country in 1849 believing they would come back rich as kings, yet who returned home poorer in pocket than when they left; therefore he came to understand that only a few of all that vast army of miners who hastened into California after the discovery at Sutter's Mill, got enough of the precious metal to pay for the food they ate.

Father thought he could buy better land in California than was to be found in Pike County, for to have heard the stories told by some of the people who had come back disappointed from the land of gold, you might have believed that one had only to put a few seeds at random in the ground in order to gather marvelous crops.

THE REASONS FOR MOVING

Nor was my father the only man who put faith in at least some of the fanciful tales told concerning the land of California which had so lately been given up to the United States by the Spaniards. Our neighbors for miles around were in a state of unrest and excitement, until it was decided that nearly all would undertake the long journey, and I could not prevent myself from wondering if Pike County would not feel lonely to have the people abandon it, for it surely seemed as if every man, woman, and child was making haste to leave Missouri in search of the wondrous farming lands.

Mother looked woefully solemn when, on a certain evening, father came home and told us that he had sold the plantation for about half as much as it had cost him, and was going to join the next company that set out from Pike County.

It was a long time before mother would have very much to say about the journey, but as the days passed and the neighbors who were going with us came to our home that they might talk over the preparations for moving, she became interested in making plans, although again and again, when we two were alone, she told me that this trailing over two thousand miles of deserts and mountains was not to her liking.

MOTHER'S ANXIETY

It was only natural she should be worried about making such a great change, for all father's worldly goods consisted of the Pike County plantation and the live stock, and if, after selling the land and spending very nearly all his money to provide for the journey, we found that California farms were no better than the one we were leaving, it would be the saddest kind of mistake.

"Your father has set his mind on going; the homestead has been sold, and we must make the best of it, Martha, hoping that half the stories we have heard about California are true," she said to me so many times that I came almost to believe it was a foolish venture upon which we were about to embark.

Then, when I began to wonder how we were to live during such a long journey, and asked mother if it would be possible for us to cook and churn and do the family washing while traveling in an ox wagon, she would say with a sigh:—

"Don't, Martha, don't ask questions that I can't answer! It seems to me almost certain that we shall starve to death before getting anywhere near California, even if we are not killed by Indians or wild beasts, without having had time to get very hungry or dirty."

Yet we did travel the two thousand miles, walking the greater part of the way, and although there were many times when all of us were hungry, none actually starved to death; nor were we killed by wild beasts or Indians, else I could not be here in this beautiful place writing this story.

Father spent days and days getting ready for the moving. After he had finished the preparations, I thought the journey would not be so terribly hard, because he had arranged everything so snug and cozy for mother and me, that it really seemed as if we might take actual comfort in case we could make shift to do housework in a wagon.

HOW WE WERE TO TRAVEL

We owned only four yoke of cattle, but with some of the money received from the sale of the plantation, we bought as many more, which gave us sixteen oxen. We were to take with us all five of the cows and both the horses, on which father said mother and I might ride when we were tired of sitting in the wagon; but I knew what kind of animals ours were under the saddle, and said to myself that it would be many a long day before I would trust myself on the back of either.

It would have done you good to see our movable home after father had made it ready, and by that I mean the wagon in which mother and I were to ride. It was small compared with the other, in which were to be carried enough furniture for a single room, farming tools, grain for the cattle, and a host of things; but I did not give much heed to the load because I was so deeply interested in what was to be a home for mother and me during many a month.

That wagon was enough to attract the attention of any girl, for, fitted up as I first saw it, the inside looked really like a playhouse, and when I said as much to father, he declared that I was indeed the right kind of girl to go into a wild country, if I could find anything like sport during the tramp from Pike County to California.

I surely must tell you about that wagon before setting down anything concerning the journey. It was what is known as a Conestoga, and one may see many of the same kind on the Santa Fe or the Oregon trail. Imagine a boxlike cart nearly as long as an ordinary bedroom and so wide that I could stretch myself out at full length across the body. The top and sides were covered with osnaburg sheeting, which is cloth made of flax or tow. Some people really sleep between sheets made of that coarse stuff, but it is so rough and irritating to the flesh that I had far rather lie on the floor than in a bed where it is used.

Osnaburg sheeting makes excellent wagon covers, however, for the rain cannot soak through the cloth, and it is so cheap that one can well afford to use it in double thickness, which serves to keep out the wind as well as the water.

OUR MOVABLE HOME

The front of the wagon and a small window-like place at the end were left open, but could be securely closed with curtains that buttoned at the sides.

Around the inside of the wagon were hung such things as we might need to use often during the journey. There were pots and pans, towels, clothing, baskets, and two rifles, for father believed weapons might be required when we came upon disagreeable savages, or if game was to be found within shooting distance.

Our cookstove was set up at the rear end of the wagon, where it could be pushed out on a small shelf fastened to the rear axle, when we wanted to use it. A most ingenious contrivance we found that shelf to be, for mother and I could remain inside the wagon and do our cooking in stormy weather; but those women of the company whose husbands had not been so thoughtful were forced to stay out of doors while preparing a meal, no matter how hard it might be raining.

Our beds were laid in the bottom of the wagon and covered with the bedclothes to save them from being badly soiled, as would be likely if we slept upon them at night, and cooked, ate, and did the housework on them during the daytime.

We did not try to carry many dishes, because there were so many chances they would be broken, but nearly everything of the kind we used was of metal, such as tin or iron.

Underneath the cart were hung buckets, the churn, lanterns, and such a collection of articles that I could not but fancy people might believe we were peddlers carrying so large an assortment of goods that they had overrun the wagon body.

What puzzled me before we started on the journey was how we could persuade the cows to travel as we would have them; but I soon came to understand that it was a simple matter.

LEAVING ASHLEY

You must know that father was not the only man in Ashley that intended to build up a new home in California. More than half of the people were making preparations for the journey, and when we finally set off the procession was very imposing, with more than fifty wagons, not one of them drawn by less than three yoke of oxen or four pairs of mules; there were cows almost without number and a flock of thirty or forty sheep.

I said to myself then, that we need have no fear the savages would try to make trouble for us, because when they saw so many people, the poor, ignorant things would believe everybody on the banks of the Mississippi was heading for California, and it would be a very brave Indian who dared be other than polite to such a large company.

Even though you had never before heard of Pike County, it would have been most interesting to see the people of Ashley on the morning we set off. As Ellen Morgan, a particular friend of mine who was going to California also, said to me just before we drove away, "It is much as if all the folks in the world had come to see us leave town."

The streets were actually thronged, as I have heard it said the streets of a large city oftentimes are, and what with the shouts of the men, the screams of the children, and the lowing of the cattle, it was quite as much as I could do to make myself heard when I tried to tell Ellen that at the last minute mother had given permission for her to ride in our wagon.

Of course the noise in the street could not have been as great as I fancied, for Ellen had no trouble in hearing me, as was shown when she came running back to our wagon with her Sunday frock and other valuable things neatly done up in a corn sack.

Then it seemed to me that no improvement could be made upon our manner of traveling, for we two girls were to be together all the while, and even when the weather was stormy, it would seem really cozy under our double thickness of osnaburg cloth.

It surprised me very much because mother acted as if it saddened her to set off on what could not fail to be a delightful journey. I saw tears in her eyes when she came out of our old home for the last time, and wondered if she was sorry because she was leaving the house where we had lived so long, or whether she believed we would never find another such delightful town as Ashley.

Of course I felt just a little tearful when those people who were to remain at home gathered around the wagon to say "good-by"; but there were so many of our neighbors in the company we would not have a chance to be lonely, and I was certain that all the friends we were leaving behind would soon join us, having come to realize, as had father, that California was the only proper place in which to live.

EBEN JORDAN

If I could have had everything arranged exactly to please me, I would have insisted that Eben Jordan be left in Ashley. He is a boy about six months older than I, who always seems to take the greatest delight in teasing us girls. I had no doubt but that he would be very disagreeable at times, and felt, on that first day, as if there could be no cloud on the California skies if Eben had remained in Pike County.

It is no more than fair for me to say, however, that, much as I disliked the boy, Eben Jordan was one who ever kept his ears open to the conversation of his elders and was more than willing to repeat to Ellen and me whatever he learned.

Even before our company had left Ashley, he told us the journey was to be begun by first going to Independence, a town on the Missouri River where the Santa Fe traders and those who would journey by the Oregon trail made ready for the long march.

Up to this time I had had no idea of how we were to get to California, save we drove directly across the prairies and over the mountains, always in a westerly direction.

But I must have understood that we could not strike off across the country in any direction we fancied, because we must follow some trail in order to find a plentiful supply of grass for the cattle and mules and sheep, as well as water for ourselves.

Eben said that the leaders of the company, among whom was my father, had talked not a little regarding the country through which we should pass. Thus he learned that we would journey over what is known as the Oregon trail as far as Fort Bridger, after which, striking off to the southward somewhat, we would go along the shores of the Great Salt Lake, past Ogden's Hole, to the land of the Bannock Indians. Then the course was to be as nearly westward as the foothills would permit.

"It will be a rare time for us all," Eben said gleefully, after having told us girls that we would journey nearly two thousand miles before coming to that land for which we sought. "There will be game until a fellow can't rest, and after we are once well on the way, we shall come upon Indian tribe after Indian tribe, when you girls will be only too glad to shelter yourselves under my wing, for there is no knowing what the savages may take it into their heads to do, providing the opportunity offers."

Ellen was not a little displeased because Eben seemingly believed we would be glad of his protection, and I really felt uneasy in mind when the lad left us to go to his father's wagon, saying:—

"It isn't well for you girls to be so high and mighty, because before this journey has come to an end you may be glad that I am willing to lend a hand."

Ellen laughed at the idea that the time would ever come when we might accept a favor from Eben Jordan. She seemed so certain nothing disagreeable could happen to us while our company was so large, that I soon put away all forebodings and gave strict attention to what was before us.

ON THE ROAD

It had taken our fathers considerable time to get the people and the cattle in proper marching order; but once this was done, they gave the word for the procession to move forward, and the people at Ashley whom we were leaving behind cheered us wildly as we went slowly out from the town.

It seemed much like taking part in some wondrous celebration, to be riding thus amid those who were cheering and, I dare say, envying us.

Mother was content to sit inside the wagon, where father had placed a short-legged chair for her convenience, but Ellen and I remained on the front seat where we could see all that was going on, and until we were well clear of the town it did seem to me that I was a very important person.

It was late in the forenoon before we started, therefore no halt was to be made for dinner, but this gave me little uneasiness, for mother had an ample supply of cooked provisions on hand.

Our neighbors at Ashley had spoken again and again of the hardships which we would encounter before arriving at the shores of the Pacific Ocean, and I said to Ellen, when we were two or three miles from the town, that I could not understand how any one could believe such a journey might be either wearisome or dangerous.

EBEN'S PREDICTIONS

Surely we were as comfortable as two girls could be, with a covering over our heads in case it rained, and enough food to satisfy our desires.

Therefore what difference did it make, as I said to Ellen, whether we were five months or six on the march? Eben Jordan, who had come back from his father's wagon along the line of procession as if to see that everything was right, overhearing my words, replied with a laugh, which sounded to me very disagreeable:—

"You may well say, Martha Early, that this portion of the journey is easy. We are now traveling on a beaten road, with nothing to prevent our going forward at the best pace of the oxen. Wait until we have really started, after having come to Independence, and leave the highway to take to the trail. You will find the wagon tumbling and pitching over the rocks, or floundering across fords, where watch must be kept sharply against the Indians, and every man needs to have his eyes open lest he be attacked by wild beasts. Then you shall say to me whether it makes no difference to you if this journey requires five months or six."

I refused to listen to the lad, who seemed to find the greatest pleasure in making other people uncomfortable in mind, and I turned toward Ellen, as if speaking to her very earnestly in whispers, thereby causing Eben to believe I had not heard what he said, whereupon he went off laughing.

WHAT WE HEARD ABOUT CALIFORNIA

We had heard people talking about the wonderful fortunes to be found in California, until it seemed as if we might become rich simply by digging in the ground a bit; but, as you shall hear, before our journey had come to an end we understood that however much valuable metal there might be in the earth, it was not to be gathered like pebbles.

We met on our way hundreds of people who had gone into California with great expectations and were coming back poorer than when they set out; but on the first day we were ignorant of all this, and quite convinced that it was a simple matter to become wealthy by a very little labor.

Before night came there was to me less pleasure than during the first hour or two. The wagon jolted over the roads roughly, making it necessary to hold firmly to the seat, lest I be thrown off, and it became wearisome to sit so long in one position.

Mother, who stretched herself out upon a bed in the bottom of the wagon when she was tired of sitting upright, did not weary so soon of this kind of traveling; but nevertheless she was quite as well pleased as Ellen and I, when, about four o'clock in the afternoon, word was given that we should halt and make camp.

THE FIRST ENCAMPMENT

We were yet in a fairly thickly settled portion of the country; but the leaders of our company determined to make the encampment exactly as if we were on the prairie or among the mountains, where there might be danger from wild beasts or wilder savages, and you may well fancy that Ellen and I were on our feet as soon as the wagon came to a stop, for we had heard so much of this camp making that both of us were eager to see how it was done.

All the wagons were drawn up in a large circle so that the tongue of one came close to the tailboard of another, and just inside this ring of vehicles were set up small tents, which many of the company were to use at night because their families were so large that every one could not be given room in the wagons.

Inside this row of tents were picketed the horses, or, at least, they were to be picketed as soon as night should come; but when we first halted they were fastened out upon the plain where they might eat the grass, while the oxen, cows, and sheep were turned loose with half a dozen of the men and boys watching lest they should stray.

Because the people were not accustomed to thus making an encampment, no little time was spent in getting everything into what the leaders of the company believed to be proper order, and then our mothers set about cooking supper.

In our wagon the stove was pushed back upon the shelf made expressly for it, short lengths of pipe were run through the osnaburg cloth and tied by wire to the topmost part of the rear wagon bow, so they might be held straight, and then mother set about her work much as if she had been at home.

It was most pleasant camping in the open air, and before we had been halted an hour the place was quite homelike.

At nearly every wagon one or more women were making ready for supper; a short distance away the men and the boys were herding the cattle, and near by, inside or out of the inclosure, were scores and scores of idle ones, who, their work being done, were now enjoying a time of rest.

There was much talking and shouting, but above all one could hear that song of the true Pikers:—

"My name it is Joe Bowers,

And I've got a brother Ike.

I came from old Missouri,

Yes, all the way from Pike."

NIGHT IN CAMP

How Ellen and I enjoyed the supper on this first night of the journey! Mother made sour-milk biscuit; the stove worked to perfection, as if delighted because it was being carried to California; and what with cold meat and steaming hot tea it seemed as if I had never tasted anything better than that meal.

Although we had enjoyed ourselves hugely, especially during the first part of the day's march, both Ellen and I were tired, and when mother said we might make up our bed on the bottom of the wagon, we were not only willing, but eager to do so, for after the hearty supper it seemed as if sleep had become a necessity.

Once we had crossed over into Dreamland, our eyes were not opened again until the sun was near to rising; then the shouts of the men and the lowing of the cattle caused us to spring up suddenly, almost fancying that the camp had been attacked by savages, even though we were not yet out of Pike County.

If I had the time, it would please me to describe the journey from our home in Ashley to a town known as Independence, on the Missouri River, where the Oregon trail begins; but since, as father said again and again, we did not really start until we had struck the Oregon trail, it is best that I leave out all that happened while we were coming from Pike County to the Missouri River.

THE TOWN OF INDEPENDENCE

We traveled slowly, because the cows were not easily herded, and, as Eben Jordan said, none of our people were accustomed to such kind of marching.

We did, however, finally arrive at the real starting point after eight days, during which time Ellen and I came to understand that, however pleasant it was to sit in the wagon and look out upon the country through which we passed, it might grow wearisome.

Ellen and I had fancied we would see something very new and wonderful at Independence, and yet, while everything was strange and there was much to attract one's attention, it was not so very different from other settlements through which we had passed.

There was, however, a constant bustle and confusion such as one could not see elsewhere. Enormous wagons, which Eben Jordan said belonged to the traders who went over the Santa Fe trail, were coming into town or going out, each drawn by eight or ten mules and accompanied by Spaniards or Negroes, until one could but wonder where so many people were going.

There were trains, much like our own, belonging to settlers who were going into Oregon, or, like ourselves, into California. Those were halted just outside the town, until the entire settlement was literally surrounded, while among them all, near the wagons of the traders as well as those of the emigrants, lounged Indians, nothing like the people I had imagined the savages to be.

KANSAS INDIANS

As Ellen said, if that was the kind of Indian we should meet with during the journey, then we need have little or no fear, for the savages we saw at Independence were nothing more nor less than beggars, who would greedily pick up and devour anything eatable that was thrown at them. Eben Jordan made himself ridiculous by marching around armed with a rifle, and a huge knife thrust in his belt, as if expecting each instant to be called upon to defend his life.

We were tired of the settlement, even before we had fairly arrived, and after Ellen and I walked through the town, wondering not a little at seeing a number of the houses and stores built entirely of brick, we were content to return to our own encampment, which was about half a mile out on the prairie.

LOOKING INTO THE FUTURE FOR TROUBLE

Up to this time mother and I had but little trouble in preparing the meals whenever we came to a halt; but I heard some of the men say that within a few days after we were once on the trail, all this would be changed. There would be many times when we might not find sufficient fuel to keep a fire in the stove, when we would feel the pangs of thirst because of not being able to get enough water, and when, the stock of provisions which we had brought with us having been consumed, we would know what it was to be hungry.

When I repeated to mother what I had heard, she nodded her head sadly, replying that she had thought of all these things when father first determined to seek a new home in the California country, and she doubted not that we would come to know much suffering, before we arrived at our journey's end.

As may be supposed, I was not in a cheerful mood when Ellen and I went to bed that night. During the half hour or more while we lay there wakeful, we spoke of all the possibilities of the future, and almost regretted that our parents had decided to leave Pike County, for surely they could find nowhere on the face of this earth a place more agreeable in which to live.

A STORMY DAY

When another morning came, it surely seemed as if all my fears were about to be realized, for the day dawned dark and forbidding, the rain came down in torrents, while the wind sighed and moaned as it drove floods of water from one end of the wagon to the other, wetting us completely even before we were awake.

I could not believe father would set off on the journey at such a time as this, and was wondering how we should be able to cook breakfast, when he called to mother that she make ready the morning meal, for in half an hour the train would be in motion.

No one had been sufficiently thoughtful to store beneath the wagon a supply of dry fuel, and the consequence was that we had nothing with which to build a fire, save a few armfuls of water-soaked wood which father and Eben Jordan succeeded in gathering, for where so many emigrants were encamped, fuel of any kind was indeed scarce.

I almost forgave Eben for having appeared so ridiculous when he strutted around fully armed, as I saw him striving to gather wood for us when he might have remained under the cover of his father's wagon; indeed, before many days passed both Ellen and I saw that there was much good in the boy's heart, even though he was too often disposed to make matters disagreeable for us girls.

A LACK OF FUEL

Mother and I made our first attempt at cooking while the stove was beneath the wagon cover and the pipe thrust out through the hole in the rear.

If we had had plenty of dry wood, I have no doubt but that the work could have been done with some degree of comfort; but as it was, we were put to our wits' ends, even to get sufficient heat to boil the water, and when word was given for the company to start, we had not really begun to cook the breakfast.

Of course it would have been dangerous for us to attempt to keep a fire burning while the wagon was moving. Therefore we would have been forced to set off without breakfast, had not Ellen's mother kindly sent us some corn bread which she had baked the night before, and this, with fresh milk, made up our meal.

At the time I thought I was much injured because of not having more food; but before we had come to the land of California I often looked back upon that morning with longing, remembering the meal of corn bread and milk as though it was a feast.

During all the long day, except for half an hour at noon, the patient oxen plodded wearily on amid the rain, oftentimes sinking fetlock-deep in the marshy places. Everything was damp and every place uncomfortable, and at times it seemed as if I could no longer bear up under the suffering.

In order to teach me that, instead of grumbling, I ought to be thankful for the comforts I could enjoy, mother told me to look at those who were exposed to the storm. I saw father and the other men walking beside the oxen, the rain pelting down upon them pitilessly; I heard the cry of a baby in pain; and I soon came to understand that my lot was far less hard than that of many others.

She read me a lesson on patience and contentment, whatever might be my surroundings, until I grew ashamed of having shown myself so disagreeable.

MAKING CAMP IN A STORM

Determined as I was to make the best of whatever might happen, I could not but be disheartened when, nearly at nightfall, we halted to make camp again. The rain was still descending like a cloud-burst; everything around us, including the bedding, seemed saturated with water. Yet I saw the men spread the thin cloth tents, after the wagons had been drawn up in a circle, or made into a corral as the travelers on the trail call it; I saw them wade ankle-deep in the mud, but with never an impatient word or gesture. It appeared sufficient to them if their women and children could enjoy some little degree of comfort.

Again we strove to do our cooking under the wagon covers, and again we were in need of fuel. Ellen and I, with the skirts of our gowns over our heads for protection, scurried here and there, picking up twigs and crying out with delight when we came upon a piece of wood as large as one's fist.

You can well imagine what kind of supper we had that night. The inside of the wagon was filled with smoke, for the short length of stovepipe did not afford a strong draft, and mother labored, with the tears streaming down her cheeks, to fry as much bacon as would satisfy our hunger.

The smoke was so dense that we all wept, smiling even in the midst of our seeming tears when father said, after he had milked the cows and had brought in quite as much water as milk, that it was a question with him whether he could stand better the smoke or the rain. He was inclined to think he had rather be soaked with water than cured like a ham.

Again Eben Jordan showed his kindness of heart, for he insisted upon helping this man and that, milk the cows and herd the oxen and sheep, and he did whatever came to his hand, all the while humming "Joe Bowers."

When Eben came into our wagon later in the evening, Ellen and I treated him very kindly, for we were coming to understand that this boy, who found so much pleasure in vexing us girls, was ever ready to do a good turn to another, even when it cost him much labor and discomfort.

A THUNDERSTORM

During all that night it rained; but shortly after midnight there came up such a terrific storm of thunder and lightning that it seemed as if the very heavens were bursting.

Then all our men and boys were forced to go and quiet the cattle, for the beasts were even as frightened as we girls were, and, so father said, would have stampeded, leaving us to spend the next day searching for them on the prairies, had it not been for the precautions of our people.

When I complained to mother, just after father had gone out into the tempest, that this journey to California was nothing like what I had pictured it, she said mildly that if I was growing disheartened now, it would have been better had I never set out from Pike County, for thus far matters had gone much to our convenience and that shortly we would find real trials and real troubles.

Next morning, however, my spirits rose, for the sun was shining brightly when I awoke; but word was passed around the camp that instead of setting off at once, we might spend two hours drying the bed clothing and such of our belongings as had been saturated during the storm.

Then there was presented such a scene as would have interested any one who had never witnessed the like before. On every wagon tongue were hung blankets and garments of all kinds, and over the wheels of each cart lay feather beds or bolsters, until it must have looked as if every member of our company had spent a day in washing, and was now about to do the ironing.

Eben Jordan went here and there, aiding this one or that when he had done what he might for his mother, all the while singing "My name it is Joe Bowers," until, even before our breakfast had been cooked, fully half the company were joining in that foolish song. Mother said almost fretfully, when Ellen and I took up the refrain, that she wished the senseless words had never been written, or that we had never heard them.

ANOTHER COMPANY OF PIKERS

Although we started off late that morning, owing to the drying out, we halted early in the afternoon, for we had come upon a company of men and women who, like ourselves, were bound for the land of California. The leader of the company was Colonel Russell.

To my surprise and delight these people also proved to be Pikers, having come from a settlement about twenty miles south of our old home. You may readily fancy how enjoyable was that evening, when we visited from wagon to wagon, listening to the stories of what had thus far happened to the company, and repeating our own adventures, if such they could be called.

While we women and girls were thus engaged, the men of both companies decided to travel together, believing that by increasing the number there might be less danger from the Indians, for Eben Jordan said that the savages we saw at Independence were but imitations of the fiercer ones whom we were most likely to meet before our journey's end.

THE STOCK STRAY AWAY

I suppose it was the excitement occasioned by the meeting with Colonel Russell's company, which caused our men in charge of the cattle to be careless during the evening and later in the night, for when morning came we found that nearly all the oxen and a goodly number of the cows had strayed from the camp and disappeared completely.

When Eben Jordan first told us of this, I believed a great disaster had come upon us; but straightway father and half a dozen of the other men mounted the horses and set off across the prairie in search of the missing cattle, as if this was trouble to be expected.

In fact, before many days passed, I came to look upon the straying or the stampeding of the live stock as of little consequence.

We had plenty of time to cook breakfast that morning while the men were searching over the prairie for the cattle, and, much to my surprise, within three hours all the stock had been brought into the encampment and we were making ready once more for the day's journey.

Before noon we arrived at Blue Creek, where we had, as it seemed to me, much trouble because the trail leading to the stream was deep with mud, and the bottom of the creek so soft that our people were forced to wade waist-deep on either side of the wagons, lest the wheels sink so far down that the oxen would not be able to pull the heavy loads across.

Again and again the men laid hold of the wheels, straining every muscle as the drivers of the cattle urged the patient beasts to their utmost exertions, and before all our company had crossed that small creek the day was so nearly at an end that there was nothing left for us to do save camp once more, although we had traveled only six miles since setting out.

Then came Sunday morning, when I believed we would remain idle, for it did not seem right that we should travel on the Lord's day; but, as father said, while we were making such a long journey it was necessary to push ahead during every hour of fair weather, and to take our day of rest only when it was absolutely necessary.

And so, instead of worshiping God as we would have done had we remained in Pike County, we went forward, fording two small creeks and journeying over a dull, level plain, whereon, save flowers, nothing was to be seen to delight the eye.

AN INDIAN VILLAGE

Within an hour of sunset we came to a veritable Indian village, although there were not many of the savages living in it, and Ellen and I took advantage of this first opportunity to see the redskins in their homes.

There were but four men, with perhaps a dozen women and children, all living in lodges made of smoke-dried skins, and looking exceedingly dirty and disagreeable.

We girls were not inclined to linger there long, although the Indians were willing we should, and when our short visit had been brought to a close, they followed us, clustering around our wagons and waiting patiently for food to be thrown to them.

From this time on during a full week we continued to push steadily forward, moving so slowly that even we girls could understand the journey would be exceedingly long and wearisome.

I WEARY WITH SO MUCH TRAVELING

More than once did I reproach myself with having been so eager to leave Pike County, and many times I said to myself that a girl who has a happy home is indeed foolish to wish for a change, lest, like Ellen and me, they find, as mother often says, that they have jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.

One day was much like another. Now the trail would be hard underfoot and the traveling easy, and again we would cross a stream, the bottom lands of which were so marshy that the oxen lugged and strained at their yokes, until oftentimes it was necessary to double up the teams in order that the heavy wagons could be pulled over the soft footing.

The only thing I remember which came to break the monotony of the slow march was when, on a certain evening, father returned with his pockets and hands full of wild onions which he had found on the prairie. Because our meals had consisted chiefly of corn bread and salted meat, I said to myself that now we would have a feast.

But alas! those wild onions were like my dreams about traveling to the land of California. While they looked fair on the outside before being cooked, they were so strong to the taste that one nearly choked in trying to eat them.

EBEN'S BOASTS

Eben Jordan, hearing of my disappointment, said with a laugh that when we came to the country where game was to be found he intended to bring into camp all the fresh meat the company could eat, and one might have thought from the way the boy talked that he believed himself capable of feeding all our company unaided.

It would have been well if Eben had contented himself with predicting the marvels which he counted on performing; but, instead, he reminded me that before we had come into the Land of Promise I might be more than willing to eat wild onions and "smack my lips over the disagreeable food."

It seems that he heard, while in Independence, of the sufferings of some people who had journeyed over that same trail, when they found no game and their provisions were consumed before the march came to an end.

It would have been better, so I said to him, if he had not repeated such things, for surely we were getting all the discomfort that was needed to show how foolish we had been in leaving Pike County, where no one suffered from hunger or thirst, if he had a tongue in his head to make known his desires.

It seemed almost as if the boy was a real prophet, for within a few hours Ellen and I did come to know what thirst—bitter, parching thirst—was like.

We had started out one morning when the rays of the sun beat down upon us so fervently that the wagon covering seemed to be no protection, and the only relief we had was from the gentle breeze which was blowing, not with sufficient force to relieve our suffering, but enough to prevent us from being literally baked.

SUFFERING WITH THIRST

We drank, as did all our company, of the water which we carried in kegs stowed in the wagons, and gave no heed to the fact that the supply was scanty, for until this time there had never been any lack of water.

At noon even the breeze died away; there was not a cloud in the sky, the trail was smooth and hard, running over what father called the tableland of the prairie, and the heat so intense that there were times when it surely seemed as if I could not longer continue to breathe.

Then, when our sufferings were seemingly as great as they could possibly be, mother discovered that our store of water had been exhausted, and called to father, asking that he get a supply from one of the other wagons.

It seemed strange to me then, and does even now, that at almost the same time all our company had run short of water, and from one end of the long train to the other we could not beg enough to moisten our tongues.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that I could not quench my thirst which caused me to suffer more severely, and when father said we must travel no less than twelve miles before coming to any stream, my heart sank within me.

Ellen was suffering quite as much as I, except that she had the good sense to hold her peace, and mother, patient with me as ever, said all she could to prevent me from dwelling too much upon my condition.

Nor was I the only one in that company to suffer severely. Whenever the train came to a halt that the cattle might have a breathing spell, I could hear the smaller children crying for something to drink, and once during the afternoon Eben Jordan came alongside our wagon, asking if our water kegs were empty.

Then I saw upon his face that look of eagerness and desire such as I had read on Ellen's, and when I told him we were suffering from thirst even more than any other members of the company, he shook his head and replied:—

"It is the younger ones who suffer the most, Martha Early, for they cannot be made to understand that it is necessary to wait; while you and I, who are older, know it is only a case of grinning and bearing it as best we may."

IN SEARCH OF WATER

I was irritated because Eben should read me a lesson, for indeed his words sounded like a reproof. I turned away from him, saying to myself that if it was not possible to make the oxen move more rapidly, there was danger of my dying, all of which was foolishness, even wickedness, as you will agree.

To force the beasts to a more rapid pace was absolutely impossible. Already the sheep as well as the oxen were showing signs of exhaustion and panting for water. Their tongues were hanging out, and they moved slowly as if unable to go farther, while five of the cows had dropped down on the trail as if dying.

We were forced to leave them behind, fearing lest if time was spent in trying to get the beasts on their feet again, more of the stock would fall.

I hardly knew how the remainder of that day passed, for I gave no heed to anything save my own suffering, thereby showing myself wickedly selfish, until a great shout went up from those who were in advance, telling that at last, after what seemed like many, many long hours, we had come within sight of a stream of water.

Then the oxen, wild with thirst and smelling the dampness in the air, plunged forward as if in a fury, for the drivers were unable to hold them in check.

In a mad race went every yoke of the cattle, drawing the heavy wagons that lurched first on one side and then on the other as we went over the uneven surface of the trail, until all the contents which had been stowed so carefully were thrown violently about, while we girls and mother had the greatest difficulty to save ourselves from being flung out.

QUENCHING OUR THIRST

The oxen continued on until every yoke of them stood in the creek, and there they halted, drinking eagerly until their sides swelled out as if bursting.

Regardless of the fact that our wagon was standing in not less than twelve inches of water, Ellen and I leaped out and drank from the stream like dogs, too thirsty to wait longer.

I have been in need of water many times since that day, but never have I suffered so keenly, and I now understand that the distress which well-nigh overcame me was caused for the most part by my foolishly dwelling upon the lack of water, whereas if I had forced myself to think of other matters, much pain might have been avoided.

It was impossible to force the oxen across the creek, and we were obliged to make camp on the easterly side, for it seemed as if they would never have done with drinking.

When they were so full that it was impossible to swallow another mouthful, they refused to cross, but struggled to get among the rich grass which covered the bottom lands of the creek.

After the horses, as well as the men and the cattle, had been thus refreshed, half a dozen of our people, among whom was Eben Jordan, rode back on the trail, hoping to drive in some of the cows that had fallen by the wayside. It was not until a late hour in the evening that they returned, bringing with them only two of the animals.

Thus we suffered our first loss on the journey, and it seemed to me a most serious matter; but even before we had come to the trail which led to California, the loss of even twice as many cattle could not have disturbed me, for I had come to believe that we should arrive at that Land of Promise, if indeed we were so fortunate as to survive, almost empty-handed, owing to the difficulties of the way which the beasts could not overcome.

The next day's march was ended early in the afternoon, because then we had come to a stream, and those who were familiar with the trail knew we could not arrive at another place where water would be found until late in the night.

MAKING BUTTER

So we encamped early, and mother decided to set about churning, for long ago our store of butter had been exhausted. We had but a small quantity of cream, all of which had been saved since morning.

No sooner had she begun her work than fully half the women of the company followed her example, and at the side or in the rear of nearly every wagon was a churn set out with either the girls or the boys working the dasher.

As Eben Jordan said when he offered to spell me at the churn, it looked as if we people, who had set out from Ashley to find a new home in the land of California, had decided to abandon the idea and turn all our attention to making butter.

Next morning we were forced to continue the journey before having breakfast, for we were nearing the Kansas River, and would arrive there about noon if the march was begun as soon as daylight. Even then there would be hardly more than time before the sun set to get all our train over, for the stream was so deep that it could not be forded, and we must send the wagons across in boats.

A KANSAS FERRY

Although we were, as one might have supposed, in an uninhabited country, father told me that at this crossing of the Kansas River was a ferry owned by two half-breed Indians, who made a business of freighting heavy wagons across for a fee of one dollar each; but all the live stock would be forced to swim.

Now since none of the boats could carry more than one wagon at a time, you may readily understand how many hours would be needed in order to get all our train from one side of the river to the other, even though it was no more than two hundred yards from bank to bank. Therefore, as I have said, it was necessary we arrive at the ferry at the earliest possible moment, lest night overtake us while half the company yet remained on the eastern shore.

The ferryboats were nothing more than square, shallow boxes, which the Indians pushed across by poles, after the cargo of wagons had been put on board.

Of course the women and the girls had nothing to do with this ferrying, save to remain under the wagon coverings where they would be out of the way. I envied Eben Jordan, who could move about at will, for verily my heart was in my mouth, so to speak, during all the time we were working our slow way across the stream, fearing lest our boat should sink beneath us.

THE SURPRISE AT SOLDIER CREEK

Not until nearly six o'clock were all our company on the western side of the river, and then I supposed that we would immediately make camp; but to my surprise word was given for the train to move on, and we journeyed three miles more, coming to the bank of Soldier Creek before darkness.

It was at this place that a most pleasant surprise awaited us. Colonel Russell's wife, who had walked ahead while our train was being ferried across the river, found quantities and quantities of wild strawberries near the camping place. As soon as we women and girls arrived, we set about gathering the berries, until each family had a good supply of the luscious fruit. Milk was not a poor substitute for cream to us who had been living upon corn bread and salt meat ever since we left the settlement of Independence.

During the next two days we traveled steadily onward, slowly, to be sure, but yet each step, as Ellen said again and again, was taking us nearer the end of the journey. In time I came to be impatient whenever a halt was called, so eager was I to have done with riding, for however comfortable a girl might make herself in one of the wagons, her limbs were certain to become cramped before night.

On the third day after crossing the Kansas River, the leaders of our company decided that a halt was needed in order to give the animals a rest. Their hoofs had become dry and cracked from traveling over the matted grass of last year, which covered the prairie even beneath the new crop, and it was necessary that something be done for them without delay.

I had been looking forward to a full day's halt, even though impatient when we were not moving forward, for Ellen and I had planned to wander as far from the encampment as we could, searching for flowers and wild peas, which grew there in great abundance, so we had been told.

BREAD MAKING

Mother decided that now had come a time when she must bake a plentiful supply of bread, for she was determined not to be put to such straits as we were during the rain storm, when it was next to impossible to build a fire in the stove, and, of course, I was glad to do whatever I might to aid her.

Before father had fairly got the stove out of the wagon and set up where it could be most conveniently used, nearly every other woman in the company had decided to follow mother's example, and then came such a scene as was presented when each family did its churning.

In the rear or at the side of nearly every wagon a stove was set up, and one might see everywhere women rolling or kneading dough, girls running about on errands, and boys doing their share by keeping the fires going.

I must say to Eben Jordan's credit that he was of great assistance to mother and me that day. If he had been a saint upon earth, he could not have done more or worked with greater patience than he did, running from stove to stove when the other boys had neglected their duties.

Mother told him laughingly that many times while we lived in Ashley she had been vexed because of the boyish pranks he played; but from this time onward she should remember what he had done in the way of aiding the cooks, and would overlook almost anything which mischief might prompt him to do.

PRAIRIE PEAS

The baking came to an end, so far as our family was concerned, shortly after noon; then Ellen and I, taking Eben with us as guide and protector, went out in search of peas and brought home enough to supply several families, who had been neighbors of ours, with a generous mess.

Save for the fact that these prairie peas look somewhat like those we have at home, I could find no likeness between the two varieties. The wild peas have a tough rind, and there are several seeds in the middle of each; but after they have been boiled and allowed to remain in vinegar a few hours, they make a fairly pleasing dish.

When we began the march once more, I hoped to see the cattle moving more spiritedly than before the halt; but in this I was mistaken. It seemed to me that they limped painfully, and worse than ever; that I was not mistaken was proved, to my satisfaction at least, when I heard father and another man saying to each other that before many days we should be forced to kill two or three whose feet were in the worst condition.

However, the days went on and our cattle continued to work fairly well, although I noticed that when we came to rough places, such as the crossing of a stream, where it was necessary to climb a high bank on the opposite side, the drivers were forced to double up the teams more often than before, because the poor creatures could not haul so heavy a load as when we first started out.

EBEN AS A HUNTER

Within a week from the time of leaving Soldier Creek, Eben Jordan was indeed puffed up with pride. He came into camp late one afternoon dragging behind him an antelope which he had shot within two miles of where we halted an hour previous. This proof that he had shown himself a skillful hunter, caused the boy literally to swell with joy as he strutted around the body of the beautiful animal while our people were looking at it.

It seemed too bad to kill such an innocent creature as that antelope, and yet I forgot all the cruelty of it when Eben brought to our wagon enough steaks to provide all of us with a slice of fresh meat. Afterward it seemed to me much as if we had been cannibals when we so eagerly devoured the handsome animal.

From that day on, whenever we made camp before dark, Eben went out with his rifle, and more than once he brought in a deer of some kind, dividing the meat generously and fairly among us all.

A HERD OF BUFFALOES

Then came the time when we had our first glimpse of buffaloes, and never shall I forget the scene. We had been traveling in the bottom lands where we found multitudes of paths deeply cut into the ground, which some of our people said had been made by buffaloes; but we girls never so much as dreamed we might be near the beasts, until one morning father called me hurriedly to look out of the wagon.

Then I screamed, for we were literally surrounded by thousands upon thousands of those fierce-looking, yet stupid, beasts, who gave no more heed to our encampment than if they had been accustomed to such things all their lives.

They circled around within a quarter of a mile of where our cattle were feeding, and father said afterward that unless our men had been exceedingly watchful and active, the oxen and cows would have been stampeded beyond a doubt.

EXCITEMENT IN THE CAMP

Our animals were in a high state of excitement, striving to get through the lines of men who guarded them, and of course there was no possibility of our breaking camp until the buffaloes had departed, for, so father said, there was not a driver in the company who could handle half a dozen yoke of oxen while the buffaloes were so near.

Not all our people stood gazing stupidly at this sea of animals as did Ellen and I. You may be certain Eben Jordan was among the first to go out dangerously near the huge beasts, and he was followed by all the men of the company, save those who were guiding our live stock.

I had supposed that the buffaloes would take to their heels when a rifle was discharged; but much to my surprise they paid little or no attention at first to the reports of the firearms.

I dare not venture to say how many of the animals were killed; but certainly it seemed to me, when about noon the entire herd rushed off, the rumbling of their hoofs on the hard earth sounding like thunder, that there were no less than fifty carcasses spread out on the plain within a mile of where our wagons had been drawn up to form a corral.

A FEAST OF BUFFALO MEAT

There was so much game for us to bring in, that during the remainder of the day every man and boy that could be spared was kept busy at work skinning the dead buffaloes or cutting up the flesh.

What a feast we had that evening! We had buffalo tongues baked in the ovens, or in front of small fires which had been built here and there. Then there were what father called hump ribs, steaks, and meat of every kind that could be taken from a buffalo. Each member of the company was eager to learn how every eatable portion of the animal tasted, and, therefore, cooked two or three times as much as could be used at one meal.

Our people had no more than time to skin and cut up the carcasses before dark; on the following morning word was passed around that each family must dry, or smoke-cure, as much of the flesh as possible within the next four and twenty hours.