Transcript

The following account is copied verbatim from a manuscript written by William at the age of 82:

 

This is the trip I made from Mound Fort...We pulled out of the tithing office yard, which was located on the present site of the W.H. Wright & Sons Store, on the 23rd day of May 1868 for the terminus of the Union Pacific Railroad, which at that time was Benton on the North Platte River, which is about 15 miles east of the Rawlins Station. We sure were a happy, happy bunch, 60 bull whackers, from 17 to 21 years old. We had two fiddlers along and sure had some great stag dancing. All went well until we got to the Green River. The water was so high that we were compelled to ferry the wagons over and swim the cattle. The train ahead of us had two wagons and one yoke of oxen and four men and three of the men were sunk. The other one stripped all his clothing off in the water and got out, but still it took a long time to bring him through, as the water was snow melting out of the mountains and ice cold. If the boys had only had presence of mind to grab on a ox's tail, they would have been saved as the oxen swam out all right. Well, we got ferried over and preceded on without any more trouble. We camped on the North Platte River 5 weeks before our immigrants came along. I had eleven scotch lassies allotted to my wagon. They sure were a lively bunch, both visible and to talk to. Oh, those Celts. Nevertheless, we got used to them and had a fine trip home. Until one morning, the Indians made a raid on our cattle just at break of day. There were always three night herders, but whether they had been asleep that morning is a question, but the Indians stampeded 90 head of cattle. They (the other herders) were after them, and were picking them up on the very jump, of course they were horseback. One of our herders from Riverdale rode a buckskin horse (pony) and to see him go..... Eventually, he got within 20 steps of one Indian, and laying his pistol over his left arm, he pulled the trigger and over went Mr. Indian, dead as a mackerel. He never stopped until he got within range of another Indian, so that he winged him also. The other herders chased the other Indians off and they rounded up the cattle. They got 87 of them, three were so badly crippled, that they left them. Well, we got yoked up and made another start. All went well, until we got to Sweetwater, where we figured to camp for noon. We sure got a surprise, for there lay three men dead, shot all to pieces and scalped. There were four wagons, the contents of which were thrown and scattered all over. The yokes and chains were still there. We buried the men and gathered up the remaining merchandise. We took everything that we had found to South Pass City, as luck would have it, they belonged there. Our captain got $3,000.00 for his trouble, but the teamsters did not get a cent. There were eight yoke of cattle but the Indians took them. It was 15 miles to South Pass City from the place where they were killed. Nothing of note occurred during the balance of our trip home. We arrived in Salt Lake about the 20th of September, 1868.