Rich, Emeline Grover, Autobiography and diary 1890-1909, 25-29.
One incident which happened while we were camped on the Platt[e] river of a laughable nature I must here relate—(for I can tell you we had to laugh sometimes),—we drove up to our camping ground which our Capt. had decided was a good place to stop (possibly because our teams had given out as was often the case) and we girls
unyoked unhitched our teams <from the wagons>—drove them to the river to drink, a lady chum of mine just my age 16—drove her team just a head of mine—they of course were thirsty and tired so they went out into the Stream—half way across—they drank and then staid there as though they were in no hurry to come back. The girl called to them[.] they seemed to look happy and content to stay where they were—Oh! dear what shall I do—I cannot wade out to them? I looked arou<nd> and espied a young man coming with his team to water them—I said wait a minute. Just as she was about to wade into the water. See—there is a young man coming perhaps he will take have pity for you—Oh! no he won’t—it isn’t likely he’ll wade into the river for my cattle—well I said lets wait and see. He came up to us and of course could see what was our trouble—he said Shall I fetch your cattle out ladies?—She said if it [is] not asking too much of you—after he had Started in after them—She said to me, who is that young man? I told her I had never met him before—She replied I am going to set my cap for him, and sure enough they were very good friends all the way on our journey ever after this occurrence, and after the journey was ended they were married and have live[d] long happy life together.
We travel'd on through a will [wild] Indian Country meeting with no serious trouble except now and then loosing Some of our cattle or sheep. Don’t think we had a death in our camp on the journey. When we arrived at Fort Bridger we found a Mountaineer Bridger by name living with a little [S...rad] of Indians—here we met my father and some of the pioneers returning, after, on to meet their families, we were overjoyed to meet worn out as we were to hear them say that they had found and located a stopping place for the Saints, for we had been three months on our journey and had began to think we were pretty good teamsters. Still all were willing to surrender the ox whip to its owner whenever demanded by its owner as they returned from their pioneer life, and the men also had a time of rejoicing on uniting with their family. Capt. Bridger gave us but little encouragement concerning our new home[.] he told my Father that he would give him a thousand dollars for every bushel of wheat that was raised in
Be Salt Lake Valley. This did not in the least have a tendency to discourage us—we were also told that we had the hardest and roughest part of the journey to travel—I wondered how this could be, for I could picture nothing in my mind, that could be worse than what we had passed. We had walked 2 and 22 miles per day—and driven our ox teams sometimes one yoke and sometimes two yokes and unyoked them, and then cooke[d] our food and attended to camp work beside[.] And now to be told that the hardest part of our journey was just on a head—but we were still equal to the task—of course we were climbed over those two ranges of mountains[,] walke[d] up and down with face in hand[,] haw here and ge there until at last we reached the goal <of our anticipations>
and were made happy about the 28th of Oct 1847 By entering and locating in Salt Lake Valley. Now we thought our labors at an end.