Contents ▼▲
Front Matter A Change of Homes "Joe Bowers" The Reasons for Moving Mother's Anxiety How we were to Travel Our Movable Home Leaving Ashley Eben Jordan On the Road Eben's Predictions What about California The First Encampment Night in Camp The Town of Independence Kansas Indians Looking into the Future A Stormy Day A Lack of Fuel Making Camp in a Storm A Thunderstorm Another Company of Pikers The Stock Stray Away An Indian Village I Weary with Traveling Eben's Boasts Suffering with Thirst In Search of Water Quenching Our Thirst Making Butter A Kansas Ferry At Soldier Creek Bread Making Prairie Peas Eben as a Hunter A Herd of Buffaloes Excitement in the Camp A Feast of Buffalo Meat Curing the Meat A Wash Day Uncomfortable Traveling Ellen's Advice Indians and Mosquitoes Prairie Dogs Colonel Russell's Mishap Chimney Rock At Fort Laramie Cooking in a Fireplace Trappers, Hunters, Indians On the Trail Once More Independence Rock Arrival at Fort Bridger Toward California At Bear River The Coming of Winter Utah Indians A Dangerous Trail Sunflower Seeds and Antelope A Forest Fire The Great Salt Lake Eben as a Fisherman Grasshopper Jam A Deserted Village The Great Salt Desert A Dangerous Journey Bread and Coffee Making Breaking Camp at Midnight Approaching the Salt Desert A Plain of Salt Like A Sea of Frozen Milk Salt Dust A Bitter Disappointment Coffee instead of Water A Spring of Sweet Water The Oasis Searching for Water The Beautiful Valley Snake Indians A Scarcity of Food Springs of Hot Water In the Land of Plenty The Truckee River The Sacramento Valley The Mission of San Jose Our Home in California

Martha of California - James Otis




Arrival at Fort Bridger

About the middle of July we arrived at Fort Bridger, where we were to turn off upon the California trail, and where, if Ellen's advice had been followed, this story of mine would have begun.

Why it should be called Fort Bridger I fail to understand, for there are no signs of a fort about, but only three or four miserable log huts in which live two fur traders with their trappers and hunters.

[Illustration] from Martha of California by James Otis

One might have believed it quite an important place, however, because when we arrived there were no less than five hundred Indians of the Snake tribe encamped round about the log huts. Beyond them on every hand could be seen wagon train after wagon train of people who had come not only from Pike County, but from Ohio and Indiana, as well as from Illinois and Missouri, the greater number intent on gaining the Oregon country, with perhaps two hundred who were going to California.

Of course there were also at this place hunters and trappers, traders coming from or going into Oregon or California, Spaniards, Negroes, and red men, the greater number of all this throng living in canvas tents, in wagons or log huts, while the rest made shift as best they might in the open air.

[Illustration] from Martha of California by James Otis

It was, like Fort Laramie, a place where Ellen and I had best remain in the wagons, for no one could tell what the savages might do if two girls wandered among their lodges, and certainly we had no desire to make their acquaintance. Here, as everywhere since leaving Independence, we heard that song which by this time had grown threadbare,—

"My name it is Joe Bowers."

[Illustration] from Martha of California by James Otis

The Negroes and the Spaniards, the trappers and the hunters, were all singing it, and the wonder to Ellen and me was where so many people could have heard it.