Bulloch, David Dunn, [Reminiscences], 46-49. (Trail excerpt transcribed from "Pioneer History Collection" available at Pioneer Memorial Museum [Daughters of Utah Pioneers Museum], Salt Lake City, Utah. Some restrictions apply.)
A little incident which I will relate happened while camping in Echo Canyon. There were from two to five wagons from the settlements between Cedar and Salt Lake. Foot racing was discussed by the teamsters. The Beaver boys claimed they had the fastest man and Fillmore thought they had the best man. While they were talking about their men I suggested they run their men for candy for the crowd but Fillmore said no, we want to [run] for money. After we had dinner the Fillmore boys came up to where Ben Arthur, Andrew Corry and I were laying in the shade of the wagons and asked us if we would bet on the Beaver man, whose name was Baker. I told them I would bet $5.00 on Baker just to see them run. So Tanner of Fillmore and Baker ran 50 yards and the Beaver man won the race. Murdock and Warner were the judges. After they had run I said if Tanner is your fastest man I have $5.00 more in my pocket which I will bet that I can beat him. We ran and I beat him. Captain Murdock said, "Well, Dave, I had no idea when you bet that you thought you could beat him, but that you wanted to give him back the money you had won."
Nothing of importance happened until we got to Greenriver where we found the river [to be] higher than for many years. We were unable to swim our animals. They would not face the stream so everything had to be ferried over. A cable was stretched across the river and fastened to large cottonwood trees on either side of the river. The boat was fastened to this cable with ropes and pulleys. The first load that was put on the boat were four of Murdocks largest animals, four of mine, and Murdock, Corry and myself, besides two men who ran the boat. When we got in [the] center of the river the water came into the boat which caused the animals to step around. The boat came within an ace of capsizing. Had it done so, there would have been no show for us. We would undoubtedly of [have] lost our lives. It was a bitter cold day and we had on overcoats and boots. The men were certainly excited and said when we get over we had a very narrow escape and he [they] would never load the boat so heavy again. After we got over the river, we had to travel in water from two to three feet deep for a mile or more.
They did not load the boat so heavy after that and we got along O.K., that some day about twenty-five miles further up the river the ox train was being ferried over and the boat capsized and oxen and men went into the river. The men clung to the yokes on the oxen and three or four men from Cache Valley were drowned with the oxen. It took us all day to get ferried over. That night we camped on the bank of the over flow stream.
The next day when we camped for noon we were about 20 miles from the river. When we went to hitch up again I thought I would hitch up one of my mules out of the loose herd. (We usually drove the two span on the wagon and I had six mules in what we called the loose herd.) When I went to get my mule out of the herd he was gone and I knew he had been stolen. I got on one of my other mules and rode back to the river and the train went on.
I got to the river about dark and stayed at one of the camps where they were building the railroad. I want to say I never in all my life saw a rougher set of men, cursing, swearing and drinking all night long.
In the morning when I got up I found my mule was gone and I was left a foot and among strangers and the train was going further on. I went to where I had staked him and found he had pulled up the bush I had staked him to. I followed his tracks for two miles or more and found him which made me feel very thankful. I went back to camp and got some breakfast and then rode up and down the river and hunted 'till noon, then got discouraged and decided to go back to the train. As I was riding along I saw a little canyon off to the left which I felt impressed to go up. When I got part way up I went to the side of the hill on the highest point I could find and looked around. At some distance away I saw some horses and a man and when he saw me he rode away and I went up to the horses and there was the mule I had lost. To say I was thankful won't hardly express it. I rode up to him and threw the rope around his neck and rode back down the canyon. I believe this man had stolen my mule. I overtook the train that night about midnight. When I told Brother Murdock my experience he was surprised and thought I was a very lucky man. I was very thankful and felt I was led by divine guidance.
At one time one of the night guards was sick and I took his place. The next day I got into Marve Dalton's wagon and put my new saddle in also and went to sleep while crossing the Medicine Bow River which was very high. When the mules got into the center of the stream they made a quick turn and tipped the wagon over. There I was, asleep, under the bows and cover. I scrambled out where the cover was torn off and swam to shallow water taking my saddle with me. Marve lost some of his provisions and things he had in his wagon. He got his wagon out. This was in 1868.
When we reached Laramie, our destination, I went out into the country to look at the mules, as Peter Neilson had sent $400[.]00 with me to get him a span and also a wagon. I got a span for which I paid $325.00[.] I also bought a second hand wagon for $65.00. I got the use of the team and wagon for buying them. I also bought a new wagon for the church and got the use of it for bringing it back. I loaded the two wagons with freight, one for Fort Bridger and the other for Walker Brothers in Salt Lake and myself. I was then taking an outfit for housekeeping home with me as I expected to marry the next spring. My other team and wagon was loaded with immigrants for the valleys. When the saints came in who should go with me whom should I meet with them but our old friend George Hunter who went down in my wagon to the Missouri in 1866 when he went on his mission.
When George met Andrew and me after the greetings the first thing he said to us was: "Boys, I have brought two of the finest girls I could find in England for you. Letitia for Dave and Hager for Andrew." It turned out that Andrew married Letitia (and she proved to be all that George said she was) and Hagar married a man from Provo.
Geeorge Hunter drove one of my teams home for me, which was a great help, and "Cap", the boy I took down with me drove one and I drove the other. I should like to state here that the mules I bought for Brother Neilson, after keeping them three or four months were sold to James Andrews of St. George for $600.00, and the wagon he could of sold for $125.00. This Brother Neilson was my grandfather, Peter Neilson. His two granddaughters later married David Dunn Bulloch's 2 sons, David C. Bulloch, and Warren Bulloch.
While camping about 20 miles from Bridger a man came up to our camp and asked if he could get something to eat. I said, "Yes sir, I never turn a man away hungry." He said he had been refused by two or three people. He rode with us and as we drove down into the river one of my wheels broke down. George Hunter, being a wheelwright, said if I could get a piece of hard wood for spokes and fellys he could fix the wheel. This man stayed with George and helped him unload and said he would stay with me till the last day in the afternoon if I needed him.
I went to the nearest station and asked a man if he had a piece of hardwood I could get to fix my wheel. He said yes [I have] a broken wagon tongue. His wife came out and said, "No you can't have that we need it for something else." I said "All right madam, I don't want it." I went on to Bridger where a man had all kinds of broken wagons and told me to go and help myself to anything I needed. I thanked him and told him I hadn't any money with me to pay him but would pay him when I delivered my freight, which I did. When I paid him he said had it of been four times as much he would of trusted me as he knew I was an honest man when he looked into my face. We arrived home in due time, about November, with nothing of importance happening.