Sixty Years of California Song | Page 8

dismissed him at once. Then we continued our
journey along the Santa Fe trail. This was Kit Carson's trail from Salt
Lake to Lower California. We continued our travels until we reached
Big Muddy river and camped there. The Indians yelled and whooped at
us all night long. We could not sleep, for they were the troublesome
Piutes. We did not know how to act as they kept concealed and were in
great numbers. Two of them, more bold than the others, being also
curious, crawled through the willows. We immediately shot at them. In
the morning the oxen were rounded up and one was missing. He was
driven away by the Indians and killed. We found him several miles
further along, with seven arrows piercing his body. Our next camping
place was at the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains. The snow was
eighteen inches deep and there was no food for the cattle. After going a
mile further the cow gave out. That left us without any means to haul
the wagons. Father left his wagon and we packed our goods on a horse,
this being the only animal remaining in father's possession. We were
compelled to leave many useful things behind. Father's feet were frozen
at this place and we were obliged to cut off his boots to assist him out
of his misery. Our sufferings were great and we nearly froze on the trail.
We kept going at a slow pace and with great difficulty until we passed
the snow belt, and when we came to the green fields or plains our joy
knew no bounds. But misfortune overtook us here, for we turned our
horse out with the cattle and that was the last we ever saw of him. We
came at last to Cottonwood Springs and we camped there for two days
to let the remaining cattle rest and eat of herbage.
"In the evening of the second day we started to cross the great desert.
We succeeded in crossing by midnight and reached the mountains on
the other side. I was so tired I fell asleep beside the trail. The team
passed me as I slept. I did not awaken until 2 in the morning. I followed
the trail and found the team, a distance of four or five miles ahead of

where I took the nap. On reaching camp, father and the company were
anxiously awaiting me. We rested for the night. Next morning we
started through a deep canyon which eventually opened into a beautiful
valley where we saw houses made of adobe. The fields were covered
with cattle. This was the first civilization we saw since leaving Salt
Lake. Starvation had almost overtaken us and we besought the owner to
sell us an ox and we had a feast and appeased our hunger. We had lost
all accounting of time until we came here. We camped for the night,
and next morning we started for Los Angeles. We arrived there
November 18, 1849. The Spaniards had taken a strong liking toward
father and wanted to make him their Alcalde, but he refused the honor
and told them he had come to preach the gospel and had to go further.
On his going they presented him with a fine horse and saddle as a token
of their esteem for him. At that time Los Angeles had only a few adobe
houses and a Catholic mission. Commodore Stockton had dug trenches
around the place as a means of defense. We slowly wended our way for
another month when we met a man who had bought a thousand head of
cattle. He told father he could earn his way up the coast by helping
drive the cattle, but he was not able to do this spirited work, so father
and son exchanged places. Father turned the horse over to me and he
drove the supply wagon. For the first time in my life I was a real
cowboy.
"We followed the coast through Santa Clara and Santa Cruz, crossing
over to Livermore and San Joaquin valley, this being the end of the
cattle drive. Here we were paid and dismissed and our employer said
we were about forty miles from Stockton and about the same distance
from the mines. We plodded slowly along, following up the Stanislaus
river. The first place we reached having a name was Knight's Ferry. We
were out of money and clothes when we arrived at this place. The
ferryman took us across without pay and bade us remain all night. Up
to this time we wore buckskin trousers. I went out hunting and the rain
came down in torrents and my trousers got drenched. They stretched so
long I cut them off so I could walk. When they dried