Transcript

Early in April we started on our way to cross the plains, a distance of twelve hundred miles. I met a young man, a carpenter, who was in about the same condition as myself. We decided to build us a hand cart and try and make our way with one of the Ox team companies. Just at this time a messenger from a Texas Company who had started across the plains, had gone 75 miles, when the Cholera broke out and several of the men died from its effect. He was looking for teamsters, volunteers to go and drive the teams. Myself and six others accepted the proposition to drive four yoke of steers to each wagon loaded with merchandise on consideration we got our board and what little baggage we had and the little girl taken along. We started out for the company with a team of horses, and in two days reached them. Edward Stevensen was sent to take charge of the train. He was a native of Gibralter, a very fine man. Out of the seven of us that volunteered, not one of us had ever put a yoke on an ox before and they were all wild Texas cattle. You can imagine we had a picnic. But we soon got so we could manage them like old teamsters.

"We left Mormon Grove June 13th, 1855, and arrived in Salt Lake City, Sept. 13th, 1855. Me and the little girl would sleep under the wagon at night. In the day I could keep her in sight. We traveled late one night in order to reach water. As soon as we stopped for camp, at a place called Laramie, Wyoming, I unyoked my cattle and got them to feed. I returned and assisted in getting supper, then went as usual for my little girl, but she was missing. I roused the camp. No one had seen her since we stopped for camp. A diligent search was made but of no avail. I imagined all kinds of scenes of death. Indians getting her, wandering away to perish, and be eaten by wolves, etc. I shall never forget the feeling that came to me, though now it is thirty years or more. I cannot refrain from tears as that experience comes to my mind. Most of the camp gave up the search in vain. I could not settle or content myself, but still wandered about, when finally I found her fast asleep in some tall grass a short distance away. You may imagine my joy in finding her.

"We had to keep diligent watch all the way across the plains. At Sweet Water a false alarm of an Indian raid gave us quite a scare. But in all our journey we were wonderfully blessed. At this place my wife that is dead visited me, put her arms round my neck, told me many things I have seen come to pass since that time. She looked so Beautiful. When I asked her of how it was in the sphere where she moved, she signified she was not at liberty to tell. I knew she was dead, and where she was buried. At this point I was aroused by the false alarm.

"On arriving at Salt Lake City, I walked immediately to Pleasant Grove, forty miles south, . . . .

[Also found in The Crowthers of Fountain Green, Utah [1943], 16-17.]