June 1849

June 1. This morning is cold.  The ground is dewey.  We make an early start as we have twenty two miles to travel today.  Shortly after starting we thought we saw buffalo at a distance, one distinctly about five miles off.  Some of our men took guns and went after it, some on horseback and some on foot.  Soon we discovered a herd of some forty or sixty.  It produced a great excitement, the horses galloping, the men running, the guns firing, produced great animation.  Soon three or four buffalo fell and the men came loaded with the choicest of beef into our camp.  While I am writing the cooks are preparing some for supper which will be quite a rarity to us who have not had fresh meat for a long time.  Mr. Osbourne of Rocheport, Missouri, killed the first buffalo.  Mr. James Wickersham[1] the next, then there were four killed.  The herd was supposed to number seven hundred.  This evening we camp at the Little Arkansas.   24 miles.

June 2. We had this morning some difficulty in crossing the Little Arkansas.  One wagon got stalled in a mud hole at the coming out and we had to double teams and in pulling out one wheel broke in several places but did not come down.  At night we took off the tire and repaired it by moonlight.  Shortly after crossing the river we heard the report of two guns at some distance.  A man cried out.  We were alarmed for now we are quite in an enemy country among the Comanche Indians who are a very savage tribe and it is not safe to leave the wagons more than a very short distance as the Indians watch and will always kill and scalp a man if they catch him off from his company.

Some armed, rode immediately to the spot and found a man who had shot himself in getting off his horse to shoot an antelope.  The trigger of his gun caught by his foot and the bullet went through his arm not far from his shoulder.  Two physicians attended him and it is hoped he will get well.  We saw many buffalo today but did not kill any.  Camped at Cow Creek.  Mr. Vail left the train to hunt buffalo and antelope this morning and met with another of the train out some distance from camp.  Before they were aware, the wagons had got to a considerable distance from them.  They saw their danger and one of them had a horse and the other was on foot.  The horseman would not leave the footman, Mr. Vail, behind in danger.  He invited him up behind him and before he was fairly seated the horse took fright and threw both of them off, hurting Vail considerable.  But they both got safe to camp.

We now number about 70 men.  A guard of eighteen men were detailed and six at a time stood watch.  A little after midnight one of the guards saw four Indians crawling up toward the camp.  He fired his rifle but missed them.  To Arms!  To Arms! was the cry in the camp and presently every man was out well-armed, but the Indians made their escape and troubled no more that night.

June 3, Sunday.  We leave Cow Creek and soon cross Little Cow Creek in about three miles.  The air is very pure and balmy, quite invigorating giving a keen appetite.  The soil is very sandy and in some places all sand.  The plain is not quite so level as it was a day's journey back.  There are a variety of beautiful flowers that grow on the wild unfrequented plains that would be splendid ornaments to our flower gardens.  Among them is a beautiful scarlet anemone; pink and white anemone, convolvulus minor, and the aster.  At noon we came in sight of a few trees that skirt the banks of the Arkansas River.  We saw many buffaloes today.  A herd of about twenty ran near to our wagon train and many rifles were fired at them but they were not near enough to kill them.  The horsemen being out in a company, we had no horses to follow them.  At four o'clock we arrived at the Arkansas River.  It is a rapid broad shallow stream.  It looks very picturesque running through the plain without timber on its banks save here and there a shrub of box elder.  This is said to be a very dangerous place on account of Indians.  Every man looks well to his arms and lies down prepared to rise in a moment to meet an assault.  I slept for the first time with my gun by my side.  About one o'clock I was on guard and a Mr. Colbert stood in sight of me.  It was moon light and he fired his rifle and then snapped his pistol and hollowed: "Sergeant of the Guard! Sergeant of the Guard! Indians! Indians! Come out here men! To Arms! To Arms!" Then he hollowed "Mr.  Bentley, lend me your gun till I take another crack at them." Sgt. Bentley observed that he would go to them himself, and, if Indians, would fire his own gun at them.  By this time, the men were generally out with their arms and I had my rifle trigger set just ready to pop it off, when lo!  Mr. Bentley went to the spot designated by Mr. Colbert and it was a high bunch of weeds!  I remained at my post until the loud roar of laughter at the sentry's experience soon convinced me of the false alarm.  The man was in earnest and was very much chagrined when he found out his mistake but he said the mosquitoes flew around him so that he could not see plain.  This evening I bathed in the Arkansas.  Camp: Arkansas River.  We burn buffalo chips!

  June 4, Monday.  We traveled ten miles.  Came to Walnut Creek, dined and grazed our cattle, there being a good spring of water, and wood, and our cattle being tired.  We remained and let our stock rest and graze preparing for a long journey tomorrow.  It has been a very warm day but a pleasant breeze continues to blow all day.  A company from Henry County, Missouri, numbering seventy have agreed today to travel with us and camp near us, still retaining their own commander.  Col. Jackson is our Commander.

June 5, Tuesday.  At six o'clock this morning we left camp and traveled over a poor soil.  The grass is very short and in some places burnt up but the stock does very well on it as it bears a seed close to the ground which is very nutritious.  We passed today a mound called Pawnee Rock, several caverns in it are the abode of wolves, etc.  On this rock there are many names cut by individuals who have traveled this road.  The oldest date is said to be 1829, although I did not see any older than 1836.  One of our company dropped his pistol here and did not discover his loss until we had traveled nearly to Ash Creek.  We camped at Ash Creek.  From the camp, he and two others rode back to Pawnee Rock and found the pistol.  They got back safe about 8 o'clock.  We saw today the smoke of an Indian fire which it was supposed was raised to assemble the Indians together as we were informed by Col.  Jackson this was their custom.  An attack is expected tonight.  Our watch is set, guns loaded and they lie by our sides.  Camp Ash Creek. 18 miles.         

June 6. Wednesday.  The plains here are very level. There is scarcely a rise in them as far as the eye can see. There are few birds but large herds of buffalo covering the ground for miles, thousands, perhaps, in one drove.  Antelope are plenty.  We saw six together at one time but they are very wild and hard to shoot.  In six miles we came to Pawnee Creek.  Here has been much blood shed with many an Indian killed and some white men.  The creek is rapid, shallow, narrow and muddy.  It is bad fording on account of its steep banks.  Here one of the mule wagons broke an axletree, but fortunately, Mr. Wheeler of Rocheport had a spare one (that he had brought to use himself if his should break) let him have that.  The creeks in this level plain are mere indentations in the ground.  Beyond their margin there are some little ash and brush growing on its banks.  We have fresh buffalo meat brought into our camp tonight by the hunters.  We camp in the plains near a small lake of muddy water.   No timber for forty miles. We use buffalo chips.  16 miles.           

Thursday June 7. The morning cold but as soon as the sun is up it became very hot.  Wolves are very numerous here.  They howl around our camp most dismally all night and this morning they are prowling along not far from our camp.  Buffalo are grazing about one mile from us. We are far south now.  Grass is very short.  The land is very poor and the water very bad.  The days are hot and the nights cold which makes it disagreeable standing guard.  We dined at Little Coon Creek.  This morning Henry Stevens, in taking some wood out of the wagon accidentally fired off a musket.  The musket was loaded with three bullets and a heavy charge of powder.  A colored man named Green[2] put the gun into the wagon and some one put some brush wood on it and as Henry was taking it out one piece caught the trigger and had it not been the muzzle was a little elevated it would have killed some perhaps several persons.  An old poor buffalo was caught this evening alone and the horsemen ran him down.  He received at least twenty bolts before he fell.  His hide was very tough and his flesh was worthless.  Mr. Ledford got a wound in his thigh this morning in mounting his horse.  His gun struck the top of his butcher knife and knocked it through the scabbard and his pantaloons and about an inch into the upper part of his thigh.           

June 8 Friday.  A very cold morning and a very hot day.  This day's travel has been over a very poor soil and the grass is very short and in some places burnt up with the sun and drought.  We chased the buffalo today and killed two but they were old bulls and poor and not fit to eat.  We traveled twenty five miles and did not make our destination which was the Arkansas River, until dark.  We have been traveling up the Arkansas for five days, seldom however seeing its sand banks at a distance.  Here at our encampment its banks are quite level with the prairie and there is no timber on its banks. We burn buffalo chips.  25 miles.

June 9 Saturday.  A wet morning.  The buffalo chips are wet and with difficulty we can raise enough fire to boil our coffee and fry our meat.  Mr. McKee and Dr. H. Meredith came to our camp this morning.  They are traveling in a company commanded by Captain Gully.  They are all well and in fine spirits.  Major McDaniel and several others belonging to our train are sick, symptoms of cholera.  I am quite unwell and have taken medicine.  We had a very hard thunder and lightning in the night but little rain fell.  There are five trains ahead of us and every one has had some shot by accident either killed or wounded.  There is much danger where there are so many fire arms kept constantly loaded and many of the men young and inexperienced.  We traveled up the Arkansas this evening.  We did not leave camp until afternoon.  We passed Fort Mann, an old fort built about fifteen years ago.  Mr. Mann, who built it, was killed by Indians. Here are a number of good wheels, axle trees, chains and every sort of wagons scattered about.  Men have cut good sound wheels as good as new to pieces to get the wood to burn.  It is said there are seventy wagons belonging to the government, some broke a little, some in part and others not broke at all but burned for the want of fuel, and the irons are all that remain of them, as good as new. Camped on Arkansas River.  25 miles.           

10 June Sunday.  Captain Roberts called some of his men up as soon as light to go back and get a pair of wheels to repair his wagon which had a wheel broke. At seven o'clock, we yoked up and started traveling up the Arkansas River a few miles.  We came to an Indian village of the Cheyenne's.  They are friendly and came out to meet us holding their hands in token of friendship.  They were large, fine looking men and women and were well dressed in their way, and most of them had good horses.  Some of them rode two on one horse.  They wanted us to trade with them.  They were well armed with guns, pistols, bows and arrows.  I gave them some tobacco and some of our company traded handkerchiefs etc. for moccasins.

We have traveled along the river bank today about twelve miles and the road turned up a hill as a bluff ran along close by the River.  It was near night and the train took up that road, the Commander being behind and we were obliged to travel till after night before we could get grass for our oxen or water. We traveled about twenty six miles.  We were all very tired.  It was dark and we had to unyoke our oxen and herd them.  It was twelve o'clock before we had herded them and brought them in and tied them.  A company from Mississippi were camped there before we arrived.  Our camp is close to the river at the crossing.   26 miles.            

June 11.  Monday.  Our road today is along the river bank.  I suppose there is not as good a road in the world that is not piked for two hundred miles.  The roads are level and as good as any road I ever saw.  The land is very poor and the grass is very short except in the river bottom where the grass is very good--a narrow strip almost all the way up the river.  In some places it is a beautiful garden, a bed of flowers with handsome colors.  Here the road forks and crosses the river and the other keeps up on the northeast side which we take and go to Santa Fe and Taos by way of Bents Fort, about one hundred miles farther to Santa Fe than the other, but has plenty of good grass and water.  The other route is very scarce of grass and water.  We separate here from Mr.  McKee and Dr. Meredith.  They are going what is called the Cimmaron route.           

A party of Indians attacked a train of wagons last night as they were crossing the river, part of the wagons being crossed, but soon dispersed the Indians when those on this side got over to their assistance.  No life lost.  No property taken.

Our Commander gave us all orders to carry our fire arms and be in readiness as he expected we should be attacked today.  We were all prepared but our number being large perhaps was the reason we saw no Indians.  Camp on River Bank.                    

June 12.  A fine morning.  Unpleasant herding stock on account of the swamps where the cattle graze in some places knee deep in water.  The country, or desert, over which we travel is very poor.  A hundred yards from the river it scarcely affords grass or weeds enough to cover the ground and in some places burnt up.  It is kind of a coarse sand approaching to gravel.  Nothing of interest occurred today.  Just before we camped, I lost a whip and went back about a mile to look for it alone but could not find.  When I returned to camp, Major McDaniel and Captain Bowlin said I was in great danger and they gave me the telescope and I saw nine large wolves close by where I was.  They will attack men where there are not many together and they go in herds and kill buffalo.  Camp in good grass on River bank.            

June 13 Wednesday.  We have seen many deer today and some elk but shot none.  A deer was shot last night and I made a good breakfast off part of it.  A man belonging to the company that camped where we did last night shot himself.  The train started and he and a few men rode on before to let their horses graze.  The man laid down his gun and later laid down near it himself.  The horse was about to tramp on the gun and he caught hold of the muzzle of the gun.  The hammer caught in a weed and it went off and the ball went into his breast.  He lived an hour and died.  His fellow travelers shaved and washed him and wrapped him in his blanket and buried him.  He had a wife and family.             

We discovered today where we stopped to noon, some shining particles having the appearance of gold.  We washed some of the dirt and found in black sand at the bottom, some pieces, small flakes, very light, of gold.  I dug about deep but found not enough to be worth getting. Camp Cole Hills on the River.   21 miles.

June I6 Thursday. This morning while we were at breakfast, our cattle grazing about one hundred yards off, ran over the hills and before the herdsmen could overtake them they were far away out of sight.  Some horsemen rode after them and fortunately overtook them.  If they had gone a little farther they would have got with some buffalo and have perhaps been lost and have left us in a sad predicament.  Two deer were shot and brought into camp.  There are many deer seen.  As we advance up the river they become more numerous.

The river bottom which is from fifty to three hundred yards wide affords abundance of grass with the exception of some few places where it is sandy and barren.  The plains on each side of the river are sandy waste, the greater portion of them being sand and brownish clay yielding neither grass nor weeds of any consequence.  The prickly pear grows in many places and several varieties of anemone.  A beautiful flower the prairie pea grows on the poorest ground and yields abundantly.  It is said they make good pickles. We have tried them.   20 miles.         

June 15, Friday.  A cold windy morning.  A flannel shirt, vest and blanket coat are required to keep the cold out.  Some days here are very hot and some so cold that a blanket coat is necessary.  The nights are quite cold.  This morning we met with a party of Indians of the Cheyenne tribe.  They professed great friendship and made signs that there were Commanches ahead of us that would kill and scalp us.  We have arrived at what is called the Salt Bottom.  Here the ground is, in some places encrusted with salt and in other places the grass grows very luxuriant.  We camp in this bottom among the high grass.  There is danger of Indians here as they can creep up in the high grass and scare our mules and cattle.  Mine was the middle watch and I had to strain my eyes to look out for them.  We arrived at camp late and before we had grazed and caught up our cattle it was ten o'clock and very dark.  Catching up a hundred head of cattle in a dark night and tying them to the wagons is a troublesome job.

June 16. Saturday. We made an early start this morning and traveled up the river. Nothing of interest occurred. Some of our train with ox teams wished to leave Col. Jackson and the mule trains on account of his traveling further in a day than oxen can, but Colonel Jackson was willing to make shorter drives.  16 miles. 

June 17 Sunday.  We travel about 13 miles today over a very barren sandy bottom.  Immediately in the river bed there are cottonwood trees and shrubs growing there is much more timber than I have seen since we left Council Grove.  As we advance up the river, we shall find timber plentiful. 

A train of men consisting of ninety men commanded by Captain Barbee[3] a Baptist preacher traveled with us today.  Our prospects for getting to California seem to be very gloomy.  I now see that I had much better have stayed at home.  If we do not get gold at the Taos mines, I fear we shall have to go home without ever getting any.  As I think the prospect for getting to California in less than a year is poor and I shall return home if we cannot get to California in less than a year, when we have tried the Taos mines.  Met with Barbee, a Baptist preacher.   13 miles.        

June 18, Monday.  I slept very little last night being very unwell.  Suffered very much all day with the colic.  I stayed in the wagon until three o'clock.  At five o'clock this afternoon, a hail storm passed over us.  It was fearful to witness the violence of the wind.  Some of the wagons had to be propped up.  We expected they would all be turned over.  It threw down several tents.  Some were eating their suppers in their tents and the wind, with a sudden gust, split the tents, that is, tore the cloth all long the ridge pole and the tent came down.  We were in a desert and if the wagons had been blown over and our provisions scattered and wet we should have been in very unpleasant circumstances.  The hail stones whistled like bullets as they fell.  They were not very large but fell with more violence than any I ever saw before.

Tuesday 19 June.  The night has been very stormy.  This morning is fine with high wind. I am much better today and able to get about and help with the cattle. There is an island close to our camp upon which grows the best black currants (gazles).[4]  I have saved some for seed.  A company we came up with on Sunday commanded by Captain Barbee had to lay by on account of a sick man whom they expected to die with the cholera.  That train has had three stampedes.  In one of them their principal miner got his leg run over and it is very bad.  Camp on the Arkansas.

June 20.  Wednesday.  We are one mile and a half from Bents Fort.  We expected to get some information relative to the gold mines of the Sangre de Cristo region[5] and of a practicable road to California, from this part but the information we get concerning the Sangre de Cristo gold mines is not encouraging.  No recent trials have been made of it and there is no more known of its richness now than there was some years ago and in relation to any practicable route from here to San Francisco, we hear everything to discourage us.       

The Indians through which we have to pass, which are the Utah's, the Apaches and the Navahos have all combined together and will attack in broad daylight.  Three companies of dragoons are sent out after them today.  They have attacked the pueblo village and drove off the inhabitants.  We remain in camp today.

21 June Thursday.  We wait here for Captain Barbee's company and Captain Kirker's train to consult together as to the best course to pursue.  All cannot agree.  Some are for going up the Arkansas River on this side and taking their wagons to the Greenhorn River and then detailing men to pack 25 miles up the mountain[6] to the mines and others are for going the Santa Fe route to the Pickett Cross and packing to the mines from there which will be fifty miles.  The Indians are very hostile and opposed to any one working on the mines.          

Our prospects for making any gold are very poor.  We had a sort of meeting but nothing could be done.  Men have but little reason or anything else in a campaign like this.  This morning, Mr. Bowlin of Howard County and Mr. Saunders of the same County, Mr. Atkinson, Mr. Munson and myself met in the tent of Mr. Howard who is traveling with his family to California and conferred the degree of Master Mason.

22 June.  Friday.  Bentley and Roberts go back this morning to meet a train of wagons from Henry County commanded by Captain Allen.  Captain Kirker passed us this morning without halting.  His company are going up the Arkansas River twenty miles before they cross, then going by the Green Horn River.  We wait for Captain Allen's company.  Camp same place.             

23 June.  Saturday.  Captain Allen arrived with Bentley and Roberts late last night.  The train is about twelve miles behind.  They will go with us.  We leave camp at ten o'clock, cross the Arkansas at Bent's Fort.  Our men went at it in good earnest.  It was a very interesting sight to see so many oxen and wagons crossing.  So much mirth and cheerfulness manifested by the drivers.  We got all safe over by four o'clock.  The water came a Iittle way into the bottom of the wagons but our goods were raised and nothing was injured.  We are this evening in Texas.  Camp near the Fort.

24 June Sunday.  This morning at an early hour Captain Allen's train arrived at our camp.  We took up our march and traveled six miles and camped on the Arkansas for the last time.  This morning we had a fair view of that portion of the Rocky Mountains called the Spanish Buttes.  We could distinctly discern the snow on their tops.

25 June.  Monday.  This morning in watering the cattle on the river we were delayed by the cattle swimming across to the other side en mass.  Henry Stevens swam across and soon some others followed him.  They had to run barefoot among the prickly pear  for some time before they could get them into the water and drive them back.  We took a late start in consequence of that delay.  At nine o'clock we start and have to make twenty miles to a place called the Hole in the Prairie before we can get any water.  The canyon which we enter this night is very barren.  Our whole travel today has afforded no grass but a few spears.  Nothing for the cattle at noon, and tonight but a very little grass and some poor water in the hole or gully that runs through a canyon that is some twenty six miles long.  About four o'clock we saw before us a whirlwind.  It approached us with terrific violence.  Our cattle got scared and entangled in the chains.  The rain poured down in torrents and thunder and lightning and hail rendered it one of the greatest storms I ever witnessed.  Our stock tonight have water but they are very tired and hungry and have nothing to eat.  Camp at Hole In The Prairie.   20 miles.          

26 June Tuesday. We start early in hopes of finding grass but we pass through a barren valley.  Mr. Tattershall this morning rode with Mr. Willis and Mr. Osbourne two or three miles in advance of the train to hunt for antelope.  One crossed the road not far from them. They all dismounted and Osbourne shot and killed the antelope.  He, with his horse, was between Willis and Tattershall.  Willis, almost at the same moment Osbourne fired had his gun presented and just as he pulled the trigger, his arm being in his horse bridles the horse scared and pulled him round.  The fire from his gun scorching Mr. Osbourne's face and the bullet passing through Mr. Tattershall who had just dismounted and had not yet turned his face from the saddle.  The ball entered his back and came out a little below the nipple on his breast.  He did not appear to know he had been shot for an instant but looked to see if the ball had struck his saddle, but soon put his hands to the wounds the ball had made and said "I am a dead man.  O, my dear family."[7]  He was put into Mr. Roberts carriage on a mattress and conveyed to camp which was about ten miles from where he was shot.  We were obliged to travel on for our cattle, mules and horses were very hungry and thirsty having had scarcely anything to eat in traveling forty miles. It was near sundown when we arrived at Camp which is called the Hole In The Rock.  Mr. Tatershall was still living but very little hopes of his recovery.  He bleeds profusely.  Two physicians attend him but when he is removed to the tent, every man seems to wear a sad countenance.  Mr. Tatershall was generally beloved by the whole train.  We find no grass here.  Our cattle suffer.

The Hole in the Rock as it is called is a basin washed out in the solid rock in the prairie and water can be got there almost at all times.  Mr. Fenner and others of the company wait on Mr. Tattershall and sit up with him.          

27 June Wednesday.  We arise early and take a hasty breakfast, hitch up our cattle and drive across the plain down a valley eight miles in search of grass which we find on a small creek called Apishapa, about a mile before we arrive at camp.

Our esteemed friend and traveler, Mr. Tattershall breaths his last. We had hopes of him this morning.  He had said he felt better than he expected to feel and I believe he thought it probable that he should get well and he observed he felt like eating bean soup.  He bore with a great deal of fortitude his sufferings.  His family seemed to be very much on his mind and his grief on their account was more than all he suffered.  Besides, we have lost in him one of our best men and Mr. Hubbard and all the company  will miss him very much.          

We were placed in a very unhappy situation this morning. Mr. Tattershall we knew could not live long and we were grieved that we were, in a measure, compelled to remove him.  But our stock had had scarcely anything to eat for two days and two nights during which we had traveled nearly fifty miles and our whole dependence is on our stock.  If they give out, we are left in a wilderness among savages with no way of escape from ruin.  May the Lord direct us and lead us and safely return us home again.

This evening a deep grave is dug on an eminence near the Apishapa Creek in a wild romantic valley surrounded by hills and overlooked by the Rocky Mountains where the foot of the white man may never have trodden before and where the Indian roams in search of game and the wolf prowls in search of his prey.  There he lies.  I was requested to officiate at the funeral.  A few remarks to a deeply interested audience and a prayer and a song of praise and the grave was closed.  A stone with his name cut by Mr. Atkinson was put near the top of the grave and the grave covered in level with the surface of the earth and a fire made over the spot to prevent the Indians from discovering the grave.  Then, we formed our corral over it that night, the cattle entirely obliterating the marks or the Indians would take him up for his blanket, etc.

28 June Thursday.  This morning thirty eight of our men have started for the Sangre de Cristo mines to explore for gold.  We remain till their return.  They have packed on mules and horses.  They have to go about fifty miles--will be gone perhaps fifteen days.  We are exposed to the attacks of Indians and shall be very tired of camp life before they return.  There is no place like home and I would be happy if I was there. I am very much distressed to see my family if it ever please the Lord to return me home, I will not, no I will not ever leave them again.

29 June Friday.  This morning another man from our train has died.  He was Mr. Anderson from Henry County, aged about fifty three. He died from cholera.  I was requested to officiate at his funeral.  A deeply affected audience gave earnest attention to a few remarks, singing and prayer.  These are trying times and there are many sad hearts, many sad countenances -- Oh, Lord, deliver us from the evils to which we are exposed.

While herding the cattle today, I found an Indian skull and other of his bones.  He had been put up in the fork of a cedar tree with all his apparel on.  His pieces of red blanket and blue striped coarse Mexican blanket were still hanging in the tree but the wolves had torn him down and scattered his bones, his beads and shells which he wore for ornaments were lying under the tree.  Such is the manner of the Indian's treatment to their dead.  Of all the life I ever spent, camp life is the most disagreeable to me.

30 June.  Saturday.  Nothing of interest occurred today.  Our cattle have improved on the grass growing on this creek.  This is a lonesome vale.  I never saw a more wild and sublimely gloomy valley.  Here and there a patch of grass near on the margin of the creek (that is now almost dry there having been no water, only some in holes) and all the country on either side for hundreds of miles a barren waste.           

Cover    Preface
April    May   June    July    August
September     October    November
Final Note    Appendix