FULKERSON FAMILY HISTORY
21st Day-
Joel Palmer- We advanced today about twelve miles. The bottom near our camp is narrow, but abounds in timber, being covered with ash; it, however, affords poor grazing. So far as we have traveled along the Platte, we find numerous islands in the river, and some of them quite large. In the evening a young man, named Foster, was wounded by the accidental discharge of a gun. The loaded weapon, from which its owner had neglected to remove the cap, was placed at the tail of a wagon; as someone was taking out a tent-cloth, the gun was knocked down, and went off. The ball passed through a spoke of the wagon-wheel, struck the felloe, and glanced. Foster was walking some two rods from the wagon, when the half spent ball struck him in the back, near the spine; and, entering between the skin and the ribs, came out about three inches from where it entered, making merely a flesh wound. A small fragment of the ball had lodged in his arm.
Mary Ann Boatman- [Near present-day Brady, Nebraska] The oxen were unyoked and driven to the spring and, after quenching their thirst, lost no time in making their way to the spot so bountifully supplied with long coarse grass, such as grew in swampy land. As the fire had been burning long enough for the wood to be burnt into coals, I soon had our evening meal ready. We all gathered around the table and ate with a coming appetite.
Now dear reader, I presume you would like to know what I mean by saying "table." I'll try and explain it. Our table was two boards nailed together with a narrow cleat at each end, about three feet and a half long and three feet wide. The way we set it up for use was by laying two ox yokes on the ground, one for each end to rest on, then we sat on the ground while we appeased our appetites. Our dishes were made of the unbreakable material, the tinsmith having done a good job on them.
Agnes Stewart- We went up on the bluffs but could see nothing on the other side of the valley for the bluffs. I saw some rare specimens of wild flowers, some more beautiful than I have seen cultivated in gardens. We passed one wagon while they were at dinner, that had six pups under it. Rather a large family for the plains. I went down to the pretty little valley to see it for the last time, and I saw a large rattlesnake lying by a bush, and we left the valley quicker than we had intended, thinking to myself that we know little what lies concealed beside us while all is fair to look upon. Where we stopped at noon there was a grave dug up by the wolves, and we saw a rib in the place, so Lizzie and I carried stones and filled the hole again. Some person had done the same before not liking to see the lifeless clay thrown about.
Editor's Quote- "I always felt that they told me much more than they said." Willa Cather speaking of the people she knew during her childhood on the plains of Nebraska.
22nd Day-
Joel Palmer- The morning is rainy. Today we passed Stephens' company, which passed us on yesterday. Our dissensions are all healed; and they have decided to act upon our plan. Yesterday we traveled fifteen miles; today the same distance. We find the grazing continues poor. In getting to our encampment, we passed through a large dog town. These singular communities may be seen often, along the banks of the Platte, occupying various areas, from one to five hundred acres. The one in question covered some two hundred or three hundred acres. The prairie-dog is something larger than a common sized gray squirrel, of a dun color; the head resembles that of a bull dog: the tail is about three inches in length. Their food is prairie grass. Like rabbits, they burrow in the ground, throwing out heaps of earth, and often large stones, which remain at the mouth of their holes. The entrance to their burrows is about four inches in diameter, and runs obliquely into the earth about three feet, when the holes ramify in every direction and connect with each other on every side. Some kind of police seems to be observed among them; for at the approach of man, one of the dogs will run to the entrance of a burrow, and, squatting down, utter a shrill bark. At once, the smaller part of the community will retreat to their holes, while numbers of the larger dogs will squat, like the first, at their doors, and unite in the barking. A near approach drives them all underground. It is singular, but true, that the little screech-owl and the rattlesnake keep them company in their burrows. I have frequently seen the owls, but not the snake, with them. The mountaineers, however, inform me, that they often catch all three in the same hole. The dog is eaten by the Indians, with quite a relish; and often by the mountaineers. I am not prepared to speak of its qualities as an article of food.
Mary Ann Boatman- As I have said, the last few days and evenings had been spent in happy communion one with the other. No trouble entered our minds except the thought of the loved ones at home, as Mr. Warner had dispelled all our dread of a long dangerous journey of 2000 miles. Why I should have been so foolish for one moment to think we were out of danger of sickness, is more than I can understand. When I look back, .. . we were constantly passing new made graves and, not only that, but passing trains of 15 or 20 wagons with people sick and dying.
. . . returning to our evening meal, the time was spent in pleasant conversation up to a reasonable bedtime. My husband and my brother, and I retired, while Mr. Warner and John went out on guard. At midnight they came into camp, reported all quiet, cattle all lying down and if anything should disturb them the bell could be heard at camp, as they were but a short distance away. So all lay down to wait for daylight and were soon sound asleep. Daylight began to break at 3 o'clock (June 10). My husband woke and on getting up, started out to look after the cattle. He had gone but a short distance when he heard brother Will driving the oxen and calling them by their names. On coming up to him he saw at a glance that poor Will was only partly dressed and had been to the spring of cold water of which I have spoken of before and drunk all he could. . . . then he was trying to drive the oxen up to have them drink. On asking him what he was out there for he said, "I want old Duke and Dime to have a good drink." That was his yoke of oxen. Mr. Boatman, at one glance, saw that he was out of his mind and was again attacked with the dreaded disease cholera.... taking hold of him he said "We go to camp, then I will come and see that the cattle are watered from the spring." On reaching the camp he at once came to the wagon, saying "Get up as quick as you can and do something for Will." Saying at the same time, "He is very sick and I found him out with the cattle, in that wet swampy ground with only his underclothes and socks on. He's chilled through." In a short time a bright fire was burning with a teakettle full of hot water and hot rocks to put around him as soon as we could persuade him to go to bed. We applied hot cloths and hot rocks to his feet, gave medicines such as we had, but all we could do did not alleviate his suffering. With patience and prayer he bore his pain without a murmur. All his answers to our questions were kind. Oh, I never can forget his last words he spoke to me nor do I want to. All tho it has been more than fifty years my dear brother's dying words are today ringing in my ears as if it were but yesterday. . .. As I knelt down on his bed, which was on the ground, . . . taking his cold hand in mine, he looked me in the face and said "I must die." I, like a frantic child cried out, saying "Oh, Will you must not go!" He said "My suffering is more than I can endure any longer." Then, with a look of agony on his death set features . . . said in a low sweet voice "Jesus receive my spirit." Oh, I felt as if I could not let him go, but that enemy to mankind stood at the door of our tent with his flaming sword, and that was death. I said "Brother won't you try once more to take another drink of medicine?" He nodded, "yes" but no sound came from his lips. I gently raised his head while my kind husband tried to give him the medicine that he had prepared, but alas, it was too late; the breath had gone. The spirit had taken its flight. Oh, what were we to do? No one but ourselves to close his sightless eyes and clasp his cold and clammy hands across his lifeless breast. No coffin, no board of any kind to make a rough coffin out of, no spade to dig the grave with. The only thing to do was to wait until some train came along. I never will forget how kind the men were. They stopped their teams, got their spades out and helped dig a grave by the roadside. With sadness in our hearts and tearful eyes they bore him to his last resting place with only a winding sheet to protect that dear body from the rough rock and earth; no one to offer up a prayer, no one to say a sympathetic word to help us bear the sorrows. It was then five o'clock in the evening all that could be done for our loved one was done. We hitched up and moved a mile on to get away from unpleasant scenes. Close by the roadside in the Platte River valley lies one that I love. Oh so well he sleeps, sweetly sleeps near the rocky hills.
23rd Day-
Father Lempfrit- To look at, one would assume that the bison cannot run, swift and powerful horses however have to be used to overtake them. The cow bison especially runs with great agility, and very few horses are suitable for hunting the cows. This afternoon, as we are traveling through a ravine, we came upon a cow in labor. Master O'Neil took possession of the baby calf without difficulty—for he had a cow newly in milk, and he brings it to her to suckle. The cow examines it for a moment, rather fearful, then she decided to let it feed. From this time onwards the little buffalo follows the cow as if it were his mother. Everyone plays with the young buffalo, he looks just like a six month old bear! We hope to be able to raise it.
Joel Palmer- During the night, a mule, belonging to a Mr. Risley, of our company, broke from its tether, and in attempting to secure it, its owner was repeatedly shot at by the guard; but, fortunately, was not hit. He had run from his tent without having been perceived by the guard, and was crawling over the ground, endeavoring to seize the trail rope, which was tied to his mule's neck. The guard mistook him for an Indian, trying to steal horses, and called to him several times; but a high wind blowing he did not hear. The guard leveled and fired, but his gun did not go off. Another guard, standing near, presented his piece and fired; the cap burst, without discharging the load. The first guard, by this time prepared, fired a second time, without effect. By this time the camp was roused, and nearly all seized their fire-arms, when we discovered that the supposed Indian was one of our own party. We regarded it as providential that the man escaped, as the guard was a good shot, and his mark was not more than eighty yards distant. This incident made us somewhat more cautious about leaving the camp, without notifying the guard.
Mary Ann Boatman- This is the closing of the 10th day of June in the year of 1852. We had been on the road two months and thirteen days since leaving Illinois. Dear reader, look back and see what those two months and thirteen days had done to mar our happiness and to make us dread the long trip in advance of us, not knowing what casualty might befall us by the hands of the savage that was roving all over the country, almost as inhuman as the wolves and with much more treachery. On the morning of the 11th we again hitched up and moved on hoping to overtake our train that had left us on the morning that I made mention of before. We traveled as brisk as the team could stand it, traveling late and early for about a week before we came upon the Scott family one evening after they had camped for the night.
24th Day-
Father Lempfrit- Today, we came to camp in a place that was entirely devoid of wood, consequently our meal was a wretched affair. The violence of the wind was most disturbing, and it was with great difficulty that we were able to put up our tent. We had to use much stronger pegs, and more of them. About noon we stopped for our customary small meal, and while the caravan was halted we saw a huge herd of buffalo going by. One of them, becoming conscious that one of our cows was in heat, lumbered placidly into the middle of our wagons. Immediately our men surrounded it and the huge animal fell to the ground, pierced by a bullet. As this was a bull the men did not wish to flay it. He had an enormous head and a big beard hanging below his jaws. He had lost almost all of his coat except for the long hair of his hindquarters. This animal somewhat resembles a lion insofar as the shape of its body is concerned. The wind continued to howl that night, accompanied by a terrible rainstorm: ‘We had a terrible storm. The whole evening has been very cold and unfortunately we did not have a stick of wood, not even for roasting a sardine if we had one! We all had to sleep in our wagons. For our evening meal we had a biscuit, and nothing but a biscuit!
Joel Palmer- Today we traveled ten or twelve miles. Six miles brought us to the lower crossing of Platte river, which is five or six miles above the forks, and where the high ground commences between the two streams. There is a trail which turns over the bluff to the left; we however took the right and crossed the river. The south fork is at this place about one fourth of a mile wide, and from one to three feet deep, with a sandy bottom, which made the fording so heavy that we were compelled to double teams. The water through the day is warm; but as the nights are cool, it is quite cool enough in the morning. On the west bank of the river was encamped Brown's company, which passed us whilst we were organizing at Caw River. We passed them, and proceeded along the west side of the south fork, and encamped on the river bank. At night our hunters brought in some buffalo meat.
Agnes Stewart- What a beautiful morning. The sun shines bright, but not too hot. The birds sing and the flowers bloom just the way they did at home. The horses are lost and I do not know what we will do.—The horses are found again. Today I am 21 years of age. How time flies around. It seems such a short time to look back to the day I was twenty. And now another year gone round and what have I done that is worthy of note? No one congratulates me or anything, and I am glad of it. It is evening, and no one knows how strange one feels out here on a birthday. True, every day makes us older but it does not have the same effect as a birthday. How often is the day celebrated by people as a day of rejoicing instead of serious thinking. Too often spent by me in thoughtlessness. I am seated on a hill above the camp and the South Fork of the Platte River runs before me. It is a muddy stream. The sun is just setting and there is a storm coming up. I am afraid. The hills and valley are covered with flowers, blue, yellow and white and lilac. Everything looks beautiful as the Almighty intended it to be. The hills look like orchards, and there are a great many hills on the South Fork of the Platte. I did not expect so much variety on the route to Oregon.
25th Day-
Father Lempfrit- This morning we were on our way earlier. I was about two miles ahead of the caravan when I came across four wolves, one of whom was white. They did not seem to be at all scared and were eating some roots in a bog. The little buffalo is now completely tame and he runs about and plays with O'Neil's children. We were able to get a little wood for ourselves today from an island, but we had to go across the river for it.
Joel Palmer- We followed the river about thirteen miles, and encamped on its bank, where the road between the two forks strikes across the ridge toward the North fork.
Mary Ann Boatman- I presume you wonder why we were so anxious to overtake the people that had left us to our fate, no matter what that might be. We had got acquainted with them and no better women than Mrs. Scott and her daughter Eliza ever crossed the plains. . . . The men folks were good and kind, but Mr. Scott was one of those "I know it all." Poor man, he couldn't help that he was born with red hair and as cross grained as a sycamore plank! . . . All his life he had ruled the entire family and did all the crowing. In fact, in his own opinion, he knew more than all the rest of the entire population that was at that time on that long route 2,000 miles long.... Our reason for being so desirous to overtake our old train was that Mrs. Scott was like a mother and the men folks said for my sake, they thought it better to put up with Mr. Scott's disagreeable conduct, so I could be in company with Mrs. Scott and her daughter.... It proved to be of great benefit to all three of us women folks as she was a mother in acts of kindness to us all, especially to me as I was often sick and not able to get up. She, dear good soul, would see that I was cared for before she retired.
As I have said, all three women folks, I wish to be understood by saying us three. I myself was sometimes a little help to Mrs. Scott and her daughter, as on several occasions Mr. Scott would get angry at someone, then he would take his spite out on his step-daughter, whom he would forbid to ride in his wagons. On an occasion like that, she would ride with me in our wagon. On one occasion he demanded her mother to have Eliza gather all her belongings together and place them in her trunk. So, at night the mother told Eliza to do as her lord and master had commanded. The poor girl, obeying his orders, had spent the night in tears, not knowing what his wrath might terminate in. Next morning he got in the wagon that Eliza's trunk was in and called to one of his hired men to come and help him lift the trunk out. The man, supposing he wanted to change it to another wagon, helped him. But no, he set it down by the roadside and said to his wife, "Eliza can not ride in my wagon any more and I don't care what becomes of her." Poor Mrs. Scott came to us in tears, pleading for our boys to take Eliza in with us. Of course our team was getting weak and we had left some of our plunder behind on account of our team not being able to haul it. While we were making room in our wagon for Eliza and her trunk, Scott hitched on to his wagons and drove off, not knowing whether we could haul the girl and her trunk or not. We took her in and hauled her and trunk for a week. She and I walked most of the time. This inhuman act ... so enraged his hired men that two of them tied their blankets on their backs and left him. They had paid him to take them to Oregon but they said if Eliza had to be left on the plains, it was time for them to start on and let Scott drive his own teams. If Mrs. Scott had been in a country where law could have been enforced, she would have ordered every team turned back eastward as all belonged to her. She was a widow when she married Scott. He had nothing, [but] her husband had left her with plenty. Even so, Mr. Scott politely informed her that she had put all her property in his hands and she could not help herself. In about a week, old tiger's anger being somewhat cooled down, consented for Eliza to come back to his camp and take up her abode for awhile.
Agnes Stewart- Two antelope were coming toward the camp and two of the fellows took guns and chased them, but did not get any and I was very glad, for the poor things were at home, and we were the intruders. We are taking the south side of the Platte. All are well yet. Two trains passed us and we have not started yet. We were delayed by some of the cattle going with another drove, but we got them all again. [Colonel Cline, the leader of the party, was driving some cattle to Oregon. These lean creatures were the final sustenance of the party after it had become hopelessly lost toward the end of the journey.] We had very good roads yesterday. We are going to cross the upper ford, 36 miles from the big Platte. Dear me, what dirty muddy water it is. We had a dreadful storm last night, but good roads today, but it is very warm and looks like we were going to have another storm tonight.
26th Day-
Father Lemfrit- We rose quite early as we had to cross over to the other side of the River Platte today. At half past ten I arrived at the place where we were to ford this famous river that terrifies all the emigrants! I noticed that there was very little pasture on the banks, and as I wanted my little pony to have something fresh to eat I crossed over to a little grass covered island about thirty metres from the bank. There, I started to write up my notes while waiting for the caravan to arrive. But to my dismay, my pony abandons me and takes off to rejoin the other horses. They had to send me another one to deliver me to from my captivity! When everyone had arrived they set about sounding the river bottom so that we would be able to avoid the deep places. Unluckily for us the river was greatly swollen due to the heavy rains of the day before yesterday, and all the waggon-boxes had to be raised up. That having been done, we attempted the crossing, using five pairs of oxen for each waggon. I was one of the first to go across. My pony did not have to swim, but having reached a spot about four metres away from the other bank I noticed he was having a great difficulty extricating himself from the quicksands that lie at the bottom of the river. I pulled a little too much to the right and there found myself fouled in a sandbank as unstable as feathers. Feeling himself being sucked into the sands, my horse made a big effort, sprang forward, and in so doing covered my back with a fine gravel! Thus I escaped danger. In order to avoid the deep holes we were obliged to cross the river in an oblique direction and as a result, we had to cover a distance of nearly two miles. Each crossing took more than a half an hour. Can you just imagine the racket that ensues from all this: thirty wagons each carrying at least seven to eight people, cows, horses, dogs, all of whom are shouting, barking (etc.). The din almost stuns one. Nevertheless our waggon crossed without any further accidents. I was worrying a great deal about our faulty axel. Our little buffalo was able to swim all the way! At last everyone arrived safe and sound at half past three. We thought we had only six miles to go before reaching our camp site, but to our disappointment we had to travel until 10:30 that evening without finding a single drop of water. We were quite exhausted when we came upon a muddy pond that was almost completely dried up. There were five or six wolves slaking their thirst there. Our dogs chased them off. We then tried to drink this water, but it was so bad that we all agreed to push further on, even if we would have to travel all night. We had covered about two miles when we found a suitable place to camp.
Joel Palmer- Today we have followed the same route as yesterday: directly across, the distance does not exceed four miles: but the road runs obliquely between the two streams and reaches the North fork [of the Platte] about nine miles from our last camp. We found quite a hill to descend, as the road runs up the bottom a half mile and then ascends the bluff. Emigrants should keep the bluff sixteen or seventeen miles. We descended a ravine and rested on the bank of the river.
Agnes Stewart- It is going to be very warm today. We had the unspeakable pleasure of being well bitten by mosquitos last night. We are on the ground where it will try the oxen,—fat now,—a gravelly, sandy soil. We are progressing as fast as expected. Warm and sultry today. I like to sit and watch the dark shadows of the clouds dancing over the frowning and dark broken bluffs of rock. One of the men caught two little antelopes. They are dear little creatures. They are a kind of brown, or dun color. They let them go again, but I should liked to have had one for a pet.
Keturah Belknap- This is the 4th week we have been on the road and now we are among the Pawnee Indians so we must get into larger company so we can guard ourselves and stock from the prowling tribes and renegade whites that are here to keep away from the law. They seem to have their eyes on a good horse and follow for days then if they are caught they will say they got them from the Indians and by paying them something they would give the horse up, then try to make us believe that they were sent out to protect the emigrants.
27th Day-
Father Lempfrit- As early as four o'clock this morning Mr. Lionnet woke me up with the words "Benedicamus Domino." I responded with "Deo Gratias." We then made our preparations for celebrating the Holy Mass in our tent. Up to now our Protestants have not yet noticed that we have been celebrating the Holy Mass. We left after breakfast and on our way we came across a number of little weasels [prairie dogs].... At 8:45 this morning we go by a former Indian camping ground. It is easy to see where their tents had been pitched.... Then we went down a very steep hill and so came into one of the most beautiful little valleys I have ever seen. This, indeed, is the Eden of all Oregon. In the distance, outlined against a verdant green carpet, a field of wild rice comes into view. Its silvery undulating waves had the appearance of a lovely bouquet of flowers adorned with lilies. Both sides of the little valley were flanked by rocks so bizarre that with every forward step new figures could be made out. One of the rocks I saw had the form of a lion recumbent on a pedestal, but nature had deprived him of one paw! Among the shrubs growing in this lovely little valley we noticed a great many red-currant bushes that we call Gadelles in Canada. We also found a large number of wild grape vines, a kind of elder tree that has very large berries from which quite good preserves can be made, and a species of hawthorn whose lemon scented fruit grows in clusters. In this lovely valley we saw, for the first time, the red cedar tree. It seemed as if we were entering a sacred grove, so sweet its fragrance. I went and cut a branch of this cedar and then realized that this was the same wood as that used in the manufacture of those pencils that smell so nice. Few people in France know that pencils are made of cedar wood. When the wood is burnt however, its aroma is even more pleasant. There is a great deal of fragrant wood in this country. At noon we left this lovely grove of trees, all my life I shall miss it. At last we arrived at the banks of the river where we were to set up our camp. The men then went out to look for a piece of wood to repair our axle.
Mary Ann Boatman- We moved on for a time, all keeping in moderate health for a short time, oft times passing new made graves by the dozen in one campground. On one occasion we passed a camped train that had buried six during the night and had six more lying dead in camp. We never knew how many died in that camp. On the south side of the Platte River there was much more cholera than on the north side therefore some trains crossed over from the south side to the north. One train said they had buried a family of seven in one grave in one day and night. Another lady said that forty of their people in their train died in two nights and one day on the Platte just before . . . crossing to the north side. Thousands of testimonies like these could be given and some even more thrilling. But what is the use of me horrifying the minds of my readers with such horrid tales of woe. I will drop them for awhile and try to find something more cheerful to talk about.
Agnes Stewart- We will cross the south fork today in about an hour from now.
Keturah Belknap- We have to keep out an advance guard to keep the buffalo herd from running into our teams. The road runs between the bluff and the river and it is just the time now when the buffalo are moving to the river bottom for grass and water. A herd passed us a few days ago; the guard turned them so they crossed the road behind us.
28th Day-
Father Lempfrit- We spent the night dreaming of, more exactly, missing the lovely places we had traveled through yesterday. We left after a modest breakfast. We had good water, and plenty of it. This after so many days of deprivation, met all our needs. There was a range of mountains on our left, and we saw some attractive rocks at intervals as we went upstream. It could be said that they had been planted there for the express purpose of providing a foundation for some castle of the Middle Ages. This was very much like the nice country that one finds on the banks of the Moselle between Nancy and Metz. One of the rocks had the form of a great church with its spire [Chimney Rock], it stood out perfectly against a beautiful horizon. Behind, there was a wood of densely foliaged fir-trees. Then we came into a valley that had a very sandy trail, our animals had great difficulty in making their way out of it. Further on, we discerned a caravan of Indians who had camped in the middle of the prairies.
Medoreum Crawford- Started early and kept up the River good road in the forenoon. Stopped 3 hours for dinner, several hunters from the other company took dinner with us, some hills to cross Camped early traviled 20 miles.
Joel Palmer-. Yesterday we advanced eight miles and halted to wash and rest our teams. We have remained all this day in camp. At daylight a herd of buffalo approached near the camp; they were crossing the river, but as soon as they caught the scent, they retreated to the other side. It was a laughable sight to see them running in the water. Some of our men having been out with their guns, returned at noon overloaded with buffalo meat. We then commenced jerking it. This is a process resorted to for want of time or means to cure meat by salting. The meat is sliced thin, and a scaffold prepared, by setting forks in the ground, about three feet high, and laying small poles or sticks crosswise upon them. The meat is laid upon those pieces, and a slow fire built beneath; the heat and smoke completes the process in half a day; and with an occasional sunning the meat will keep for months.
Agnes Stewart- Three of our wagons crossed the river yesterday, and six to cross today. Helen, Mary, father and I came over on the first wagon on the tenth. I was very much afraid, but we got over all safe enough. David Love's wagon went into a hole where the wagon, oxen, and men, were all swimming. James Stewart and Charles were carried under the oxen but came up on the other side. Dave lost his cap, Charles his hat, and John lost his whip. It was frightful. Our wagon took a circle and came out another way. They are just preparing to bring mother's wagon over.—All the wagons are over, and all are safe.
Keturah Belknap- Now we are on to the Pawnee Indians. They say they are a bad set. We must pass right thru their villages; they came out by the thousands and want pay for crossing their country. They spread down some of their skins and wanted every wagon to give them a little something and they went to dividing it amongst themselves and got into a fight.
29th Day-
Father Lempfrit- The Indians we see are those called the Sioux.... Soon we saw about a dozen Indians coming towards us with little flags in their hands. Half an hour later we saw their village distinctly. There were about thirty large lodges. Before long we arrived in front of a long line of men, all seated on the ground. There was the Great Chief, decorated with the insignia of his authority, and the head men of the tribe all waiting for us, or waiting for our presents. Because at the sight of two blankets spread out in front of the Great Chief, two Canadians who were with us told us that every man had to give something. We all gave tobacco, maize flour, and other things like these. I noticed that the Indians really loved maize because when a little of this was set out on the blanket stretched out before the chief’s feet, all the women who were standing behind the men demonstrated their satisfaction with prolonged squeals of joy. There were not many Sioux there when we passed by their lodges as they were at war with the Pawnees. This is why so many of them were away from their camp....
After our gifts were presented we continued on our way and set up our camp about a mile beyond their village. Having arrived at our camp site I wanted to get myself a nice buffalo skin that Canadians call a robe. I made use of the time that remained to us before nightfall by doing some trading. I took some trade goods to their village and for a few items of clothing, obtained a really beautiful buffalo robe. As I was going into one of their lodges I noticed a small boy wearing a little cross round his neck which was similar to the one that I have attached to my scapular. I showed this to the head man of the lodge, but at once he noticed my little silver reliquary which he admired very much. Forthwith he asked for it offering in exchange one, two, even three buffalo robes! I told him that I would not part with it at any price, but he never ceased to pester me for my reliquary without in any way understanding its significance. After this I wandered down the long line of lodges and eventually found myself in front of the Chief's lodge. This was much bigger than the others. Grotesque forms were painted all over it there were wolves, an enormous turtle, cranes holding snakes in their bills, etc. confess that the artist had not shown much skill, all the same, it was possible to make out what he had wished to illustrate....
A large number of Indians had followed us to trade in buffalo robes, etc. Often these could be obtained dirt cheap. Could you believe this? For one or two glasses of spirits! ... They asked everyone for "wiski." On top of this, four Indians were pestering our conductor O'Neil for "wiski."
Joel Palmer- An unoccupied spectator, who could have beheld our camp today, would think it a singular spectacle. The hunters returning with the spoil; some erecting scaffolds, and others drying the meat. Of the women, some were washing, some ironing, some baking. At two of the tents the fiddle was employed in uttering its unaccustomed voice among the solitudes of the Platte; at one tent I heard singing; at others the occupants were engaged in reading, some the Bible, others poring over novels. While all this was going on, that nothing might be wanting to complete the harmony of the scene, a Campbellite preacher, named Foster, was reading a hymn, preparatory to religious worship. The fiddles were silenced, and those who had been occupied with that amusement, betook themselves to cards. Such is but a miniature of the great world we had left behind us, when we crossed the line that separates civilized man from the wilderness. But even here the variety of occupation, the active exercise of body and mind, either in labor or pleasure, the commingling of evil and good, show that the likeness is a true one.
Mary Ann Boatman- Things and time went on about the same for a couple of weeks or more. One morning we started on our way and had gone about five miles when we met some Indians on horseback, the first that had made their appearance since we had come in to the cholera stricken district. They made us understand by broken English language that a river or some kind of stream of water and quicksand had to be crossed with in a mile or more and gave us to understand it could not be forded, and they had built a bridge over it and we must pay for crossing ... it. So, our company told them that they would do the fair thing by them, but would not pay until they got to the stream and found out about the bridge and ford, but the Indians seemed dissatisfied. On arriving at the stream we found other trains waiting to cross. The white people had built the bridge by cutting down some trees and placing them across the stream, then covering the logs with smaller timber and brush so the oxen and wagons would not sink in the quicksand. As some of the wagons had passed over and the bridge had become weakened, all hands had taken hold and repaired it. So, by the middle of the afternoon all were safely over, . . . no thanks to Mr. Indian.
Agnes Stewart- We drove all the wagons out on the bluffs and turned them all out, and there had nothing got wet. Then we have to pack all our wagons again. It seems to me to be such a lot of trouble.
30th Day-
Father Lempfrit- We have been surrounded by Indians since early morning. The small leftovers that we had given them yesterday evening had made our tent popular with them. We again shared our breakfast, after which we left. But this was only to arrive at another Sioux village. We were told that the Chief we had seen the day before was not the Great Chief, only the second chief! The nearer we drew to the village the more we recognized that what we had been told was indeed the truth. This time is to be the real thing! As we approached the village we saw two flags floating in the breeze. These were the Red Flag and the flag of the United States. On the latter, the eagle of the United States coat of arms could be seen, then, in a scroll, there were two intertwined arms symbolizing the alliance of the Indians with the Whiteman. A deputation from the Supreme Chief had come to meet us. When we arrived before the Great Chief the delegates were lined up in two rows. Then we saw His Highness, adorned with the Insignia of his Supreme Dignity, seated on a mat. He was wearing a French cap and a multicolored shirt fashioned like a short blouse. Hanging around his neck were three large medals, suspended one from the other, and below these was a beautiful crucifix which he told me had been presented to him by Bishop Blanchet the previous year. Pointing up to the sky, he indicated to me that the One fastened to the Cross was the master of Life. I gave him a large medal for himself and for his posterity. He at once hung it around his neck after having kissed it. Once again we had to give our presents, following which the Chief presided over their distribution. Each one had his share. When the ceremony was over the Chief rose to his feet, for he was about to retire to his tent. However, as the entrance was very low he was obliged to treat us to the sight of his posterior—as he was not wearing trousers, only some kind of long hose made from skins. One does not give this a second look!
Medoreum Crawford- Started early drove very fast stopped for dinner nearly opposite the Chimney [Chimney Rock] a very remarkable mound rising like a pyramid some 100 feet and then a perpendicular column standing on the top probably 200 feet high. Saw a Buffalo crossing the River, chaised him back to the hills. The most remarkable thing I have seen is the deception in distances. Bluffs which appear within I mile are often 5 miles from us. Camped early traviled 20 miles.
Agnes Stewart- We had a Platte River storm last night. I scarce ever saw such a storm. All the fellows had to turn out and herd the cattle for they ran from the hail. They all got good and wet. Proceeding on our journey today as gaily as ever. Last night the wolves came within a very short distance of the camp, and such a yelling I never heard before. Camping on the North Fork of the Platte, came across a sandy valley or ravine, steep bluffs on both sides with the straightest faces on them that I ever saw on hills. The wagons sunk several inches in the sand in some places. The lower parts of the bluffs have trees, flowers, wild roses, and grape vines that give them a welcome appearance. There was a clear stream of cool water running at the foot of the bluff which made it delightful to wayworn travelers, and rocks on the top of the bluff standing up so independently.