a scramble for shoes and stockings, bed and bed clothes you cannot imagine. We ran to the wagon with all possible speed, and after tossing and tumbling we were at last ensconced in a wet bed in a wet wagon, with the wind blowing a perfect hurricane; and I thought if the doctor was with us he might possibly find something else besides fun in going to California. The next morning the first object which presented itself was my husband fishing for his boots with his whip, and I thought of the times when his slippers chanced to be moved a few inches from the place where he left them the previous night, and concluded he would be as patient as Job himself by the time he arrived in California.

May 18, 1853-Up in good season and soon bade adieu to our comfortable camping ground. There was little danger of our meeting the fate of Lot's wife, for sure am I that no one turned a face toward Sodom in our flight that morn. But we soon came to an apparently impassible gulf, and here our friend the Dutchman invited Frank to take a ride across upon his back, which she gladly accepted, and was soon landed upon the other side. The old greys made the first attempt, and came off victorious as usual; then the good little ponies jumped over. Now came Mr. Sanborn's turn and he was fast in the mud, from which the good old greys pulled him out; next the four fine horses of Mr. Bowinger came over finely: then Charley, too, was fast in the mire, but with much prying and pulling he was at length extricated, when without further accident, we came on to Mosquito creek, where we found the bridge completely submerged, and here we were compelled to remain until—

to cross

* *

FORDING A SWOLLEN STREAM.

"Friday, May 20, 1853-Our husbands went into town yesterday, but the river is still rising and the bridge so impaired that we are unable *. At noon, the water still rising and the bridge in a very bad condition our company thought it best to get over as soon as possible. They were obliged to swim their horses and draw their wagons over the bridge; we ourselves crossed in a canoe, were the last over, and happy indeed were we when we found ourselves in our good friend Mr. B.'s wagon, riding toward a beautiful campingground a mile from the creek, where we pitched our tents among the hills and passed a very pleasant eve, the moon shining as sweetly as if no cloud had ever obscured its brightness. Frank's playing and

Uor M

singing and the sound of Theodore's violin borne upon the evening breeze from Mr. Sanborn's tent is very sweet indeed.

May 21, 1853-We left the camp early for Kanesville where we remained some hours. The place presents a singular appearance from being built of logs. Is full of life and activity at present, being crowded with emigrants purchasing their stores for California. We know very little of the wickedness of mankind when at home, removed from the confusion and excitement of the world. Such profanity I had no idea was practised in the world as I have heard since Frank remarked that there was At night we encamped upon the

we have been among the emigrants. no God here except to be profaned.

shores of the Missouri six miles from Kanesville.

ON THE SHORES OF THE MISSOURI.

"May 22, 1853—Cold and rainy; traveled upon the shores of the Missouri until we came to Ferryville, where we had hoped to cross the river, but we must remain here until to-morrow in consequence of so many trains being here before us. Weather more pleasant, but no Sunday for us, surrounded by noise and confusion on the banks of the muddy Missouri, the water of which we are obliged to settle with milk before using.

May 23, 1853-Wind blowing and sand flying in every direction (that sounds natural). About two o'clock we commenced crossing the river and at eve are upon the western shore, waiting for our company to cross. Just at sunset we left the banks of the Missouri and proceeded seven miles, riding until 12 o'clock, and weary enough were we all, but found fine grass, which we considered sufficient compensation for all our trouble. Near our camping ground is a stream, which from appearances often overflows its banks, these being in some places thirty-five feet high. This afternoon we passed an old Mormon village, built of logs, where the Mormons first located after leaving Illinois, now entirely abandoned. It is situated upon the western shore of the Missouri about a mile from Ferryville. We now bid adieu to the world for a long, long time, and may, perchance, never mingle in its busy scenes again. We are in Nebraska, inhabited only by Indians.

IN THE GARDEN OF NEBRASKA.

May 24, 1853.-Left our encampment at 9 o'clock, all well and apparently in fine spirits. At noon we crossed the Pappeo creek.

We have encamped on a lovely spot of earth where the scenery from the bank of the river (Elkhorn) some thirty feet high, is truly delightful. It requires the pen of the poet or the pencil of the painter to portray its beauties, but it should remain sacred to the red men of the forest, for there is little to induce the white man to wrest it from them, in consequence of the scarcity of timber. To-night the boys are all excitement in consequence of the proximity of the Indians. Our horses are all near our tents and everyone is making his boast of what he will do should they attempt to steal them.

[Little the writer thought as she uttered that prophecy that eleven years only from that day her niece and namesake would attend a boarding school (Brownell hall) less than a mile from the spot where she crossed the Missouri.]

66

May 25, 1853. We are now, at eight o'clock, at Elkhorn ferry, and our gentlemen thinking their charges rather exhorbitant, seem inclined to be independent and provide themselves with some means of crossing. The river is very shallow. This was an erroneous idea which I derived from a guide; as I stood upon the shore I found the water to be at least twelve feet deep. After conversing with the ferryman, whom they found to be a gentlemanly man, who had been an officer in the United States army, and hearing that the ferry belonged to a St. Louis company who had purchased it of the Indians, they thought it best to pay their tonnage and cross without delay. We then proceeded over low wet lands for some miles and encamped upon the Elkhorn river, where we were obliged to take our horses across a deep ravine to enable them to secure sufficient grass. All the emigrant companies we have seen to-day have passed on to the river and we are left entirely alone.

THROUGH THE PLATTE VALLEY.

May 25, 1853.-We are travelling near the Platte river, and as far as we have seen Nebraska I think the country much more beautiful than Iowa, but have never seen so few flowers in any other country at this season of the year. The snakes I have observed today are all of an entirely different character from those we have seen before and I should think much more harmless.

May 28, 1853.-We came on to the ferry at Loup Forks, where we shall be obliged to remain until to-morrow in consequence of the crowd here before us.

May 29, 1853.—Cold, the rain pouring down upon our horses, and we must remain until to-morrow.

May 30, 1853.-At 7 o'clock we left our encampment and went to the ferry, where we remained two or three hours waiting for the company with whom we intend to travel across. The river at the forks is seven or eight rods wide and twelve feet deep in the current of the stream; the bed and banks of the river are entirely composed of quicksand. The ferryman, Commodore Decatur, was very polite indeed, and when we left, bade us good-bye, calling Frank very familiarly by her name, and wishing the blessing of God might rest upon us, for which we felt truly grateful, as it was the first time we had heard the name of the Supreme Being spoken with reverence since we left Madison; but oh! how dreadfully profaned. ** To-night we have encamped near the river.

*

May 31, 1853.--We have traveled about twelve miles; our way has been somewhat diversified by hills and valleys; bluffs and prairies; have encamped near the river where we find wood, water and good grass. We have now ten wagons and twenty-eight horses in our train.

RED MEN IN LARGE NUMBERS.

June 4, 1853.-The Indians are constantly committing depredations on the emigrants. Our company lost 148 head of cattle in the storm of Saturday night, but have recovered most of them. Another lost ten horses. Our company keep a double watch, but possibly the Indians may outwit them notwithstanding. This Nebraska is a miserable, unpleasant place indeed, and can never be inhabited, except by the Red men of the forest (prairies); the climate is very cold and it is almost impossible even for the grass to grow."

[Farther on she says, as the weather becomes pleasanter, "Nebraska is improving in appearance as the weather grows warmer; the soil is fine and it will probably be inhabited by a civilized race of beings in time," thus barely saving her reputation as a prophetess. Only about half way have we followed them on their travels, but having accomplished my object of giving some particulars of their journey through Nebraska, which might be interesting to old Nebraskans, we must leave them, with but a single further quotation announcing their final arrival in California.]

*

*

*

"Monday, Oct. 9, 1853.-At three o'clock we reached Indian Valley, where our wanderings cease for the winter, at least My husband having decided to remain here, has purchased an interest in a ranch situated in the center of the valley. The building was as rude and dreary looking as any human habitation your imagination can picture, having been occupied since the first settlement by dogs and Diggers (a low tribe of Indians), but we have made several additions and alterations until we think it quite comfortable in these wild mountains. The exterior is just as rough as unhewn logs piled up together can be made to look, and I had consoled myself with the hope of covering it with grape vines, or the wild honeysuckle, or some other climbing plant, but since the opening of spring I find there is not a single thing in the vegetable world of this region which depends upon another for support, but every plant stands upon its own ground and points directly to the heavens; therefore I shall be obliged to plant the wild roses and evergreens about it and make the interior as pleasant as possible. It contains two large rooms, which we use for parlor, dining room and kitchen and occasionally throw open the folding doors and make a ball room of them. Our family room is comfortable, with a large stone fire-place, but as for windows, all the sunlight we are blessed with comes peeping through holes cut in the logs. Our floors are uncarpeted, except my room, that has a blanket on the floor. Our furniture has been manufactured from pine trees, our tables are pine boards and can boast of four good legs; for seats we use little stools, except three small barrel chairs, and one large one, made from a pine tree and covered with a cayote's skin. Our walls are covered with furniture calicoes, and when we have a good blazing fire, and all sitting in its cheerful light with flute, guitar, books and papers, we hardly realize that we are isolated from the whole world and completely hemmed in by the snowclad mountains of California. But so it is! Here we are, like Rasselas, shut up in the 'Happy Valley,' and like him wishing to be liberated and permitted to mingle with the world again."

can

[I hope some old resident of Nebraska will locate exactly some of