The Trip to Pa's Camp-1853

One day after he had been absent some time, my Pa came home with two ponies, and said he would take me to Salt Creek Valley, where his camp and trading post were set up. We set out the next day, with my Ma, sisters, and brother Charles calling out well wishes for a safe travel.

We came to the Missouri River, and I stared out at the murky, dark water and felt an involuntary shudder sweep over me. I recalled the terrible raft trip my friends Jack and George, and I had experienced back in LeClair, and was thankful now that I could actually swim, but still the thought of going into that water terrified me. Fortunately, for me, Pa told me that we were not going to be braving a swim across it on our horses' backs, but that we would cross it on the Rialto Ferry.

I still exhibited a bit of fear as the ferry started its way across the rapidly moving water, but I tried not to show it. After all, my Pa was watching me, and I did not want to disappoint him at being scared over such a little thing. Once safely across the river, we continued on our way toward Pa's camp.

On the way, we had to cross over a high hill known as Salt Creek. We looked down upon the most beautiful valley I have ever seen. It was almost twelve miles long and five miles wide. While the valley greatly interested me, I particularly found the vast number of white covered wagons or 'prairie schooners' which were camped along the different streams, even more fascinating.

My Pa explained to me that they were immigrating wagons bound for Utah and California. He also stated that the Mormon and California trails ran through the valley below. There were wagons as far as the naked eye could see. Some of the wagons belonged to the government freighters named Majors and Waddell.

Pointing out the army of wagons camped below us, he showed me which were the Mormons and which were the Californians, and explained that we must steer clear of the former as cholera was raging among them. As we looked on they held a funeral for some of their dead and I felt sympathy for the families who had lost someone they loved.

We passed through this 'valley of death', toward my Pa's camp. The plight of the sick Mormons plagued me for quite a spell. I thought of Samuel and how his death had struck us all so hard, and could not imagine losing more than one family member at the same time. I do not expect I could have lived afterwards. I was getting rather melancholy by this time and gave myself a firm shaking, not wanting to spoil this special trip with my Pa on sad tidings.

A short time later, we arrived at my Pa's camp, and I was soon caught up in the exploring of it, and the store that he'd set up to trade furs and other goods in with travelers and nearby Indian tribes alike.