Transcript

I was born at Kanesville, Pottawattamie County, Iowa, on August 8, 1850. I am now eighty-two years old. My father was Horace Roberts, and my mother was Harriet McEvers. They came to Utah in 1851 when I was one year old.

Of course I remember nothing of the trip, but I do know some of the things that happened from hearing my folks talk about them. My cousin, Clark Roberts, drove my father's teams part of the way. My father sent them back twice to help other emigrants across the plains.

One day as we were traveling along, a big herd of buffalo ran between the wagons. Cousin Clark stood in front of our wagon with his gun. Father said, "Now, be sure to hit it in a vital spot, for you know we are short of ammunition." Just then his buffalo fell—hit in a vital spot all right. Several other buffalo were killed at that time, and the travelers supplied themselves with all the meat they could haul. I remember Mother saying that they would have gone awfully short of food had it not been for the buffalo they killed.