Transcript
Transcript for "Maria Lofdahl Andelin, reminiscences," 4-5.
. . . I think it was near Omaha, Nebraska, but I couldn't talk english, hence I didn't know the names of the towns or places we traveled. We were camped on the river for five weeks, when an unknown dsease struck us, and many died. They would run out in their night clothes and holler like they were possessed. They would turn black in their mouthes and teeth. We moved a few miles from the river for a couple of weeks, until the oxen got tamed, then we were ready to commence our journey across the plains, under the leadership of Captain Attwood. The church did not bring the Immigrants across the plains that year. There was one, Thomas Taylor that contracted to take us across. I paid him $71.00. My fare across the Ocean was $68.00. We were Fourteen weeks on the plains, when ten or eleven should have been enough, consequently, our provisions gave out, and we had to eat the meat of the oxen that died from starvation and hard work. At times without bread or even salt. We had a little flour to thicken soup. A message was sent to Brigham Young, and he sent out teams with provisions. There were those in the company who had provided for themselves, had their own outfit, and who got along a little better, but even they got short of provisions before we reached Salt Lake.
At Fort Laramie we were snowed in, and some of our cattle were driven away supposedly by the Indians. The brethren went to hunt them and found a few. We were told by the soldiers here that the Indians were mad, and that they would kill us on the way and that we would never reach Salt Lake. They advised us to stay there until the next Spring, but of course we wouldn't listen to them. We believed the Lord would protect us, for we were on His business, and would not let the Red Man kill us.
One day the teamsters had a fight with the Indians, when they took the cattle to water, seven of the brethren were wounded, some very seriously, but all got well and walked in to Salt Lake. One of our women by the name of Gruntvig, was kidnapped by the Indians, and we never heard a word of her after. From then on we traveled at night and camped in the day, so the Indians wouldn't know where we were camped; This plan prevailed as long as we were in Indian territory. I walked all the way:
With bleeding feet crossed desert's woe's
Through wind, and rain, and bitter snows
Kneeling on the barren sands
Asked Father's blessings from His hands.
And on the ground lay down to sleep
Footsore and tired and nothing to eat.
Only the Heaven's for my covering,
My sleep was sweet while angels hovering.
I waded through the rivers with the water up under my arms, sometimes I was happy and did not shed a tear, and never at any time did I wish I was back in Sweeden. But singing all the way—"Come, Come Ye Saints, no toil nor labor fear, All is well etv….
We reached Salt Lake on the 14th of November, the same year 1865, having covered even seven months from the time I left Gottenberg, Sweeden. At Salt Lake, we drove into a square. I think it was what is now the Pioneer Park. Here I was a poor girl, a stranger alone, no one could meet me and bid me welcome…