The Slower Road

... later that same day (continued from yesterday’s excerpt) …

“I am now at Blue Creek station. Here I have access to water, taken and brought by rail from Bear river to this station. My first care was to water my cattle, as they have had none since yesterday morning, except the little salt water I gave them. I gave each two pails at once and after a little while gave them two more and then their grain. But they wanted more water, so I again gave them two pails each. This appeared to satisfy them.”

… continued from yesterday …

“On the morning of the 22nd I was up before there was any light in the east, and waited anxiously for its appearance so that I could move on. I got up and gave the cattle their grain, but they would not eat it as they were so thirsty; the salt water I had given them was the cause. Soon I saw a light in the sky, which I thought was in the south, but which I found came from the east. I was anxious to move on to get rid of the noise and the presence of the wolves, which had been around us all night. Not being able to get any wood for a fire I was obliged to keep my lantern burning; but that was not enough, they were so bold. My dog I kept tied up that he might not go for them; once I came very near to losing him by setting him on a coyote. This animal turned on him and I had to go to his rescue to save him; since then I have chained the dog at night. The lantern alone not being enough to keep the wolves away, I poured oil on the ground and set it on fire and used about three quarts; I have often done this before.

“It having now grown light I moved on, leaving my camp about five o’clock. My road was a down grade and about six o’clock, just as the sun was coming up, I saw to my left a herd of horses some distance away. Grass was in abundance on either side, so I thought I would stop and give the cattle a chance to eat it, but changed my mind and went on. They were so thirsty that I thought they would not eat enough to do them any good, as it was water they wanted and must have. I urged them on and traveled now at a gait of three miles an hour, and at eight o’clock we came in sight of the railroad. I was glad of it and I think my cattle were also; I have an idea that they knew some things as well as I did. Soon I was on the railroad trail that I had left at Lake station. On my left is a mountain; the old trail goes over it, the railroad trail runs around it with the track.

“From this point over the mountain to Blue Creek station, by railroad, is fourteen miles; by crossing the mountain I save eleven miles. This is one of the instances where many miles might have been saved, If I had not determined to follow the railroad where possible, and which I have done most of the way.”

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… Here we reach a stopping point in Mr. Johnson’s text, but I’ll share the conclusion of this particular tale tomorrow. I don’t want to leave anyone wondering too long whether poor Fanny and Bessie will get a drink of water!

When we last checked in with Mr. Johnson, he had been making his way through the mud sloughs, and then stopped for lunch.

… “About half-past one, we passed Monument station, making no stop, and about four o’clock I made Lake station, or the salt works. Here I stopped and then went to the Lake. This lake is the most northern part of the big Salt Lake; from the railroad to the lake is not more than forty rods. At this point of the lake the water is very dark and blue and very strong of salt; seventy-five percent stronger than the Pacific Ocean. Here I was advised to leave the railroad and take the old emigrant trail, which would bring me out on the railroad near to Promontory. Should I continue on the railroad trail I would encounter many sloughs. I was told that two days ago, two teams attempted to come through on this trail, and one of the wagons had to be left in one of these sloughs.

“Crossing the railroad I took the left trail as advised, and coming to a small creek I stopped. I took my pail and filled it with water. I tested it and found it of a salty taste and hesitated about giving it to my cattle, not knowing what its effects might be on them. Both were thirsty, so I gave them a drink of it and moved on, passing Salt Springs. It was not yet time to go into camp, so we continued further.

“In front of me there was a tall mountain. My trail had been good and still was excellent, could not desire better; but what would be next I could not tell. I went on and soon came to another trail leading to my right; this is the old emigrant trail from Ogden to Corinne, Kelton, Terrace, Wells, and on to California. The mountain which was in front is now on my left, soon there will be one on my right, and then I shall be between two mountains; this is known as the divide. From the west to these mountains the ascent is sharp and heavy; from the east the ascension is not so sharp, but it is long. From the west to reach the summit, is two miles, but from the east it is nine miles, showing plainly the difference in the grade from the east to the west. When I reached the summit, it was quite dark, so we went into camp, making the horse fast to the right rear wheel and the cow opposite. I gave them some grain, made up my bed and laid down, but sleep there was none for me; it appeared the longest night on my whole journey.”

… to be continued …

… Continuing on from the previous post …

“On the morning of the 21st, I was up as usual, that is, early, getting ready to leave. I was strongly urged to stay and get breakfast before starting. Having been well cared for I could but stop; a good breakfast was at my disposal. While getting my breakfast I inquired for the lady of the house, when soon she came. I bade her good morning and said, ‘I am about to leave you and thought I would like to bid you goodbye.’ ‘Why need you start so early?’ she said. ‘It is my custom; if I make an early start I can make a long or short day as I choose. I am informed that I shall have many sloughs to get through, some of them are deep and will be troublesome to get through.’ ‘Yes, I am afraid you will, and bad to get over. The rain we had a day or two ago made the marshes bad. I suppose it will be of no use to offer you any more than I have already done for your cow?’ ‘Madam, you have already offered me more than she is worth. I have been told many times that I could not get her East. At all times I have thought to the contrary, and it is my desire to give it a fair trial. The cow has not been milked this morning, but I intend to, give me a pail and I will milk her.’ I milked and gave the the lady the milking, saying, ‘My dear friend, this is all I can do. I have but one dollar; that is all the money I possess. I have as much grain as will last me to Corinne. Then I can get a sack and have as much as will pay for the same.’ ‘Stranger, your cow has paid your bill and more. Here is a lunch for the day,’ she answered. ‘Thank you, good morning.’ ‘Good morning, I hope you will get along all right.’

“It was just six o’clock as we left Kelton and on passing the blacksmith’s shop he called out to me, ‘Here, friend traveler, is something you will need after crossing the sloughs. It’s worth all I ask. You can not travel until you get rid of the mud; you will know more after you have crossed one.’ ‘What do you ask for it?’ ‘Oh, I sell cheap. It will be nothing to you, that is cheap enough.’ After thanking him I moved on, soon coming to one of these sloughs.

“These sloughs are flat or level pieces of land, of from forty to one hundred rods in length, composed of sand, mixed with salt and alkali. When rain falls on this soil, it becomes soft like mortar, for plastering. It is not deep, from one to three inches, but its adhesion to the boots, wheels, or feet of animals is very strong.

“I drove on to this slough, mud we will call it. As I walked through, my feet seemed to double in size; so did the horse’s and cow’s, and the rims of my wheels became very thick and clumsy. It does not fall off as ordinary mud will; it hangs like a load-stone until you scrape it off with some instrument. The blacksmith had given me the right kind of an instrument, it was nothing more or less than a shovel; the blade was two inches wide, three inches deep, and about one-eighth of an inch thick and about one foot long.

“After crossing one of these sloughs, I would have a half mile or more of good road before coming to another. After passing through one, I would clean off the mud from my boots, the horse’s and cow’s shoes, and from from the rims of my wheels, but with the latter I was not so particular. I found it best to remove the mud at once before it became dry, as it hardened as quick as cement.

“In traveling about seven miles I crossed five of these sloughs. At noon I stopped, giving my cattle water and grain and took a bite myself.”