Transcript

Some weeks later, some three thousand saints and about six hundred wagons, followed in the wake of the Pioneers; Apostle John Taylor and my honored Father having the general supervision of these first companies of emigrating pilgrims.

The journey across the plains to the mother[s] and fathers of Israel, was for the most part, one of trial, hardships and sacrifice; to the young men and maidens, the darkest clouds had their silver lining. The trip to me, as a boy, although I was sorely vexed at times, was some of interest, novelty and pleasure. As the Camps of Zion wended their way towards the land of Promise, daily, new scenes burst upon our view, and now and again we would meet the hunter and the trapper or a band of Indians decked with beads, ornaments and feathers. The novelty and bustle of camp life, the neighing of the horse, the lowing of the cows with their young calves, the deer, antelope and buffalo and flocks of wild geese, the rocks, rills and caves, the lone tree by the wayside, the cold spring, the oasis in the desert, the Indian wickiup and grave, the wild flowers and laughing children, the prairie fires and moonlight nights, the howling wolves and screeching night owls, the inspired Sabbath address and song of Zion, all filled my young heart with delight and inspiration.

Being provided by my Father, with a good Indian pony, my boy companions and myself, drove cows most of the way across the plains. We drove down through the mouth of Emigration Canyon where we got a full view of the valley, September 28th, 1847.