Over the Plains

Over the Plains. BY MRS. JENNIE ALLRED. Here are a few recollections of my journey across the plains. It was in the year 1856; we were a company of zealous, good people, anxious to come to the land of Zion, the place appointed for the gathering of the people of the Lord. We started from Florence, Nebraska, in the beginning of the beautiful month of June, thankful to our Heavenly Father that we were on the way to Zion, even if we had to pull hand carts to get there. It would be impossible to tell all the incidents of the journey, but some things can never be forgotten, and are still fresh in my memory. One evening we camped on the banks of the Sweetwater, near an Indian village. During the evening a squaw came to our camp and wanted to swap her papoose for a white baby. Finding no one willing to exchange babies, she went away to her own lodge, as we thought, but after awhile she came back and crept into the tent of Brother John Y. Smith, and stole their infant daughter and left her own papoose in the bed, the white child being asleep. Sister Smith soon discovered her child was gone. Brother Smith and others started after the squaw in hot pursuit, and she was running with all her might to reach her tribe, but was overtaken, and the child restored to its weeping mother. The squaw was compelled to content herself with her papoose, which was freely given to her. After that experience, parents were more careful to watch their children when near an Indian village. Soon after that, some Indian chiefs came to our camp to try to trade or buy some of the white girls, but there being none for sale, a trade was not made. However, a very strict watch was kept over us to prevent us from being stolen by the Indians.

OVER THE PLAINS. 825 One time, when we were camped near Chimney Rock, a herd of Buffalo came in sight. Nearly every man in camp started after the herd with some kind of a weapon to slay a buffalo. The buffalo started to run, and the men after them. The animals being quickest on foot, the tired men were soon compelled to give up the chase, without killing a single animal. There were Indians close by who watched the unsuccessful effort of the handcart men to catch the buffalo. They laughed at them, and told them to stay in camp, and they themselves would kill the buffalo. The next morning they surprised us by bringing into camp two fine, fat buffalo, and gave them to our captain to distribute among the company. This he did. All the Indians asked in return was their breakfast, consisting of strong coffee, pancakes and plenty of sugar, which was willingly given them. When we reached Fort Bridger we had to cross Green river, and the news of the handcart company was such a novelty that all who heard of it came from the surrounding country to see what they supposed would be a grand sight, to witness the handcart women pull their carts across the river. In this, however, they were disappointed, for not one woman had to wade the river. The married women were taken across in wagons, and the girls were carried across by young, stalwart men of our own company. When we reached Harris' Fork, about one hundred and fifty miles east of Salt Lake City, our provisions were nearly gone. Our captain, a few days previous, had sent word to President Brigham Young, of the condition of our company. We waited there until wagons with supplies came to our relief, and I can assure you we hailed them with delight! We did so appreciate the good things they brought us, for we had lived several days on very short rations of thin flour-mush, without salt. When President Young heard of our condition, he kindly sent out six wagons loaded with all kinds of provisions, that served us very well for the remainder of the journey, which at this time was nearly drawing to an end. We walked many miles in the heat of the day, footsore, weary and tired, but hailed with delight the end of each day, when we might camp on a cool riverside, or sit beneath the shade of a prairie tree. One may well believe that this was a boon to

826 IMPROVEMENT ERA. the weary ones, who generally made a march of twenty long miles each day before their hard day's work was done. Early and late we traveled, pulling and pushing our handcarts. Day by day we gathered buffalo chips, carrying them in our aprons to use for the fires by which we prepared our food. When night came on and supper was over, we would gather around the camp fire and sing the songs we loved the best, until far into the night, when we retired. Each morning we were up with the first dawn of day, again to pull and push our handcarts over the hills and the rocks, until it seemed that all our strength was gone. Some of the younger ones, more brave than tired, often sang this inspiring song: Some must push and some must pull, As we go marching up the hill; Merrily on the way we'll go, Until we reach the valley. Thus for three months, day by day, we traveled along in the heat of the summer, full of hope and the spirit of the gospel, else we never could have endured the many trials incident to a journey like this across the plains, pulling a handcart. Wallsbdrg, Utah, Elder Alma Butler, writing from Olympia, Washington, May 13( says that the elders in that district have had cause to rejoice over the splendid success which has accompanied their labors, and especially with their street meetings on Saturday afternoons. Many farmers come into the city on that day for supplies, and the elders have been able to distribute their literature among them, thus having the gospel message carried to many parts of the newly settled country districts. The elders in the picture are, left to right: L. B. Wilson, Oakley, Conference President 0. L. Dunn, Georgetown, Idaho; Alma Butler, Ogden, W. J. Brady, Fairview, Utah. t f