James P. Terry reminiscences and journal, 1886-1893, 106, 113-15.
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July 6th 1849 left Winter Quarters, on the Missouri river, with my fathers family in Allen Taylors company arriving in the Valley October 15th. . . .
In 1849 a different mode was adopted in camping. The corall was formed with the wagon tongues outside leaving a small opening at each end of the corall and at dark we put our horses and cattle all in this enclosure. This was a summer of stampedes. One night our cattle took a scare and broke out of the corall and it was with much difficulty that the guards could stop them. They smashed over two or three wagons but fortunately there was no one killed. Poor cattle would take fright and run like antelope. One day we met a lot of cattle that had stampeded from the California emigrant company. We took them back until we met their owners coming for them. They had run about sixteen or twenty miles.
I will here refer to a thrilling incident.
Our company took turns in driving ahead. It came my turn for the day of which I speak. It was in the afternoon. I was some distance ahead and setting in the front of my wagon when I heard a great noise and on looking back, the whole train was in com[m]otion. It was a stampede. I jumped out, took my near leader by the horn and kept my team quiet so they did not run. The others ran till they caught up with my wagon when they stopped. There was one woman by the name of [Margaret] Hawks was run over and killed and a young woman by the name of [Janet] Findlay was badly hurt but she got well. The damage to wagons I think was slight may be a wagon tongue or two broke. We had some bad streams of water to cross, austensibly the Loup[e] Fork being the worst on account of quick sand. I recollect we had to put chunks under our wagon boxes to raise them up in crossing the Platte. One day while we were traveling below Ft. Laramie, a party of Sioux Indians met us and formed a line across the road and would not let us pass till we gave them some presents. We gave them flour, sugar and whatever else we had and could spare. It was deemed to be cheaper to feed than to fight them.
I will here refer to a miraculous escape of my father from being killed. It was a few miles west of Ft Laramie, on a ver[y] steep and rocky hill and when about half way down he slipped or fell in front of the wagon. His neck being immediately across the track. The wheel came so it touched his neck, when the horses stopped as suddenly as if they had been shot and my father got out of his peralous situation unhurt.
Between North Platte and Sweet Watter I have seen cattle drop down in the yoke and be dead in a few minutes from drinking alkali water. I have seen the road strewn so thick with dead animals that in places a person could step from one to another. The best cattle general[l]y were the ones to die. My father had the little white mare that he took from Canada to Missouri. And in all our movings and a very large mare making an odd looking team. The large mare died at Independence Rock on Sweet Water from hard work and scarcity of feed. Then the company had to help him. When we got to Fort Bridger my brother Joshua Terry was working there and he let us have a yoke of oxen to help us on to the valley. Where we arrived the 15th of October.