We were three hours' distance from our evening camp-ground and our
drivers had to walk and face that buffeting storm in order to keep
control of the nervous cattle. It was still raining when we reached the
knoll where we could spend the night. Our men were tired and drenched,
some of them cross; fires were out of the question until fuel could be
cut and brought from the edge of a swamp a mile from camp. When
brought, the green wood smoked so badly that suppers were late and
rather cheerless; still there was spirit enough left in those stalwart
hearts to start some mirth-provoking ditty, or indulge in good-natured
raillery over the joys and comforts of pioneering.
Indians had followed our train all day, and as we had been warned
against leaving temptation within reach, the cattle were corralled
early and their guards doubled. Happily, the night passed without alarm
or losses. The following day we were joined by ex-Governor Boggs and
companions, and lost Mr. Jordan and friends of Jackson, Missouri, who
drew their thirteen wagons out of line, saying that their force was
strong enough to travel alone, and that Captain Russell's company had
become too large for rapid or convenient handling.
We covered fourteen miles that day over a beautiful rolling prairie,
dotted with Indian lodges. Frequently their owners walked or rode
beside our wagons, asking for presents.
Mrs.
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