chance to own the apple orchard and distillery with Thomas motivated him more than any guilt. I had no choice, he reasoned silently.
“The rest of you made it to Salt Lake in one piece?”
“Yes. We arrived there safely. By the time some of us went on to the Winter Quarters near Kanesville for our families it was too late to travel back to Salt Lake. So we waited until now to bring them there. I believe it was divine providence that my family ended up with your company. It’s a relief not to be pulling a handcart. Now I know how oxen and horses feel.”
At the Green River a ferry trip run by Mormons cost $7 per team of livestock. The more cautious paid it; others had their oxen swim across. Here the company watched a group of foot weary Argonauts desert the trail for a lengthy river route. They took the lumber from four wagons and built a raft. Their plan was to float it down the Green River to the Colorado River to the eastern border of Southern California.
“It’s downstream all the way. Once we get to California, we’ll head north to the diggings. This way we don’t have to cross the Sierras.” One of them detailed their route for Rudolph.
“They’ll still have the Mojave Desert to cross by foot.” Jim remembered his own crossing of the furnace-like wasteland. “Maybe they’ll make it. Hard to say.”
At Ft. Bridger Dan reminisced with mountain man Jim Bridger, who asked if being a guide was tougher than being a trapper. Dan pointed toward those of his company whom he feared.
“Depends on who’s in yer company.” He shrugged. “Seems like it kin be easier dealing with injuns instead of greenhorns and tenderfoots who wants to follow their own ignorant ways of doing things. Seems like they’re plain hell-bent to git themselves kilt at times. And me along with them.”
Little was bought at Ft. Bridger, as the prices for most items were high. This fort was much smaller than Ft. Laramie, only a few log cabins and a makeshift fence, and the number who tarried there on layovers was also less. Mountain man Jim Bridger and trader Louis Vasquez had built it in 1841. The fields of grass and many streams surrounding the fort provided better for the livestock than what the outpost provided for the humans passing that way. What was considered essential was purchased: tobacco and liquor for some, food and clothing for others.
As was the case with most mountain men Bridger could spin tales or give advice that needed to be taken with a grain of salt. One of his favorite stories concerned the time that he claimed 1,000 fierce Cheyenne warriors were pursuing him. He would say that he arrived at a cliff’s ledge with no chance of escape and then dramatically pause the tale. When asked what happened next, he invariably replied, “They killed me.”
When Mormon Prophet Brigham Young had stopped off at Pacific Springs in June 1847 during his trek to find a place to build his Zion, Bridger met him there and convinced him that the land surrounding the Great Salt Lake would be perfect for his holy city and new headquarters. But it was rough going for the Mormons to reach it. Mean spirited Gentiles from Missouri who beat the Mormons to the Green River did not bother to tie up the rafts that they used to ferry across the swollen waters. Because the rafts were swept away the Mormons were delayed while they built new ones. Such delays beset them until they entered the Salt Lake Valley a month after heeding Bridger’s advice. For whatever reason Young was not grateful to the mountain man. A feud developed between them to the point that Young in 1853 banned Bridger from trading in Mormon territory. He even sent a posse of the faithful to arrest the mountain man. But for now in 1849 tensions were minimal between Mormons and those Gentiles passing through Salt Lake.
After leaving the fort the Elmira company passed over a 7300-foot summit down to the Bear River, which was 50 feet wide, rapid, and cold. A man had to ride each head of livestock, one at a time, across the Bear to keep them from being swept away. Dan had a huge bonfire going on the other side to warm the shivering ox and horse riders after their ordeal. The plentiful wild berries and grass along the river and fish in it also helped to warm bodies. Dan paused to let all feast and regain their strength. He especially encouraged the company to eat as many berries as possible to fight off scurvy, which had already struck a few whose gums were bleeding. Cholera was no longer as big of a problem on this section of trail, but Rocky Mountain Fever now was.
They then had to ascend another 7200-foot summit before the descent into the Salt Lake valley. Both of the summits surrounding the Bear were slightly higher than the South Pass had been and the thin air made each little step a chore. But this route was watered at many points. The cutoff trail taken by the two pic ‘n’ mixers who had left the company included a two-day stretch with no water. More importantly, thanks to the thousands of Latter Day Saints who had traversed the road from the Little Sandy to Salt Lake City – the strongest more than once – this stretch of trail was in good repair.
At the valley’s edge was a quarantine station that Brigham Young had set up. The doctor there took his time carefully examining each one in the company. He concluded that four had Rocky Mountain Fever; two had malaria, and nine, diarrhea and not the dysentery that they had feared was afflicting them. He surmised that an overindulgence of the berries was to blame for their incontinence and then declared that the ones with Rocky Mountain Fever and malaria could go no further.
“But we can’t wait for them to git better!” Dan protested. “Hastings’s Cutoff is on the other side of Salt Lake City. What if we took ‘em straight through to the cutoff without stopping?”
“Sorry. I have my orders.” The doctor shrugged. “You could leave them here with one of your wagons for them to stay in. After you’re through with your business in Salt Lake you can come back for them and then head northwest from here to the Salt Lake Cutoff. It’ll take you straight to Cathedral Rocks.”
Dan studied his map. He had updated it at Ft. Laramie and Ft. Bridger as he had received new information.
“Where’s that Salt Lake Cutoff at? Don’t see it nowhere on here.”
“It’s a new route. Only opened up last year.” The doctor traced his finger on the map from his quarantine station’s location to the spot marked Cathedral Rocks.
Dan quickly used a borrowed pencil to draw the latest addition to his map. He then convened a meeting of the company.
“Well you heard the doc, boys. What he says is law around here. Can’t blame the Mormons for keeping sickness and disease from the trail from coming in among them. Here’s how it’s gonna be. Those of you with the Rocky Mountain Fever and malaria got to stay here in a wagon.”
“They can use mine.” Smithton volunteered. He feared that there were likely greedy Mormons who certainly would discover his stash of moccasins and steal it. Not a religious man, he secretly hated any who were.
“Okay. The rest of the wagons and oxen who is in good enough shape will go into the city where we’ll trade them for mules and food.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to give up my wagon.”
Dan motioned for quiet. “Look, boys. The rest of the trip till the Sierras is all desert. Wagons and oxen will have a really hard go of it from here on out. But if we trade them for mules it’ll be a whole lot easier for all of us.”
The argument raged on. Dan told of how mules could drink the alkaline water of the desert and eat the cottonwood bark that grew next to the few water sources. Oxen could drink or eat neither one. Gradually he understood that the oxen had become as pets, substitutes for the dogs and cats left at home. The most liked oxen even bore names. Dan made a plea on behalf of the oxen’s fate.
“What would you rather see, your poor oxen die slow painful deaths ‘cause of no water under the hot blazing merciless desert sun that will cook them alive till they’re laying there dead or your mules plod through it with nary a problem? Slow oxen kin mean a lot of you dying off too.”
The options silenced those who still remained unconvinced. When the company left for Salt Lake City, they were of one mind to trade for mules. The rapidly spreading city impressed them. While th
e helpful stayed with Dan to trade the oxen and wagons for mules and food, others brought out their remaining cache of newspapers to barter with the locals for hot meals, hot baths, or other luxuries seldom found on the trail. A handful from the company attended one of the Mormon’s worship services. None were converted. Many inwardly questioned the worshipper’s focus when they sang this of their leader:
Only so that you closely follow
Your leader Brigham Young
They all had numerous questions for the men afterward about the benefits or downfalls of a life with more than one wife. The Mormon men were more interested in showing off the vast irrigation system that was turning desert into farmland. While talking to one of the Mormon farmers, Rudolph asked why those of his faith were seemingly uninterested in gold. The farmer chuckled.
“You should’ve seen it. When the first group brought us news of the strike hardly any believed it. But when the second group showed up later on carrying a bunch of gold people went crazy. They started yelling, ‘To California – To the Gold of Ophir our brethren have discovered! To California!’ Then they hightailed it out of here headed west. The Prophet told them not to go but they were in no mood to listen. Samuel Brannam even has a place out there they call Mormon
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