The Slower Road

Continued from yesterday …

“‘Stranger, I hope you will. If you do succeed, just make a book of your journey.’ ‘I will, and you may get hold of one of them.’ ‘I should like to meet you somewhere down East; I would give more to see you in that Barnum’s big show.’ ‘Well, friend, I must be going on, I have got to tramp every day, and make big days at that before I reach the eastern states.’ ‘Well, stranger, I hope you will get safely through; goodbye.’

“It was about seven o’clock when I left him; I kept the railroad on my left. At eleven o’clock, I came to another station, called Brown’s Station. I made but a short stop at this place, just long enough to water and feed. This is a telegraph station; only two buildings, the depot, and a house. At half-past twelve I left and journeyed with the railroad on my left, and as I travel the desert is left behind me, my course now lying through Humboldt valley, the river of that name being on my right. I intended to reach Lovelock’s, but my trail led me so far to the right that I was obliged to return to the railroad, so made Granite Point instead. This station is nothing but a house for the boss of repairs and a shanty for his Chinamen.

“I took the horse from the carriage and fastened her as usual, with the cow opposite. After feeding, I made my bed and laid down, being only disturbed that night by a passing train.”

Continued from yesterday …

Mr. Johnson “left Mirage very early on the 27th [of August 1882] and made Granite Point that day, a distance of twenty-eight miles. It was one of the finest mornings I ever saw, and my road was a good one and I journeyed with good cheer. About half-past six o’clock I saw smoke in our front, and spoke to my horse, saying ‘Fannie, go on, we will soon have breakfast.’

“We shortly came to a station called White Plains. Here was a good house not painted brown like others, but white; there were several men around and as I came up bade them good morning. One of the men answered, ‘Where in hell are you from, and where are you going; you must have come from the East some time?’ ‘Yes, I came from the East.’ ‘But where are you now from?’ ‘I am from California and going East.’ ‘Yes, I know you are traveling East, but where do you intend to haul up?’ ‘In Massachusetts.’ ‘The devil you are, with that outfit; that cow will never see Massachusetts.’

“[I replied,] ‘But where are you from, and what are you doing with that derrick?’ I asked. ‘I am from New York and came here to make an artesian well,’ was answered. ‘I want a pail so that I can milk my cow; you can have the milk. By the way, I don’t suppose that you have any hay that I can get for my cattle?’ ‘Yes, I have some hay, you can have some of it for your cattle. Perhaps they would not eat it, but we will try them.’

“The hay was placed before them and they seemed to relish it very much from the greediness with which they ate it. I got a pail and milked the cow and giving it to the stranger, said ‘Will this pay for the hay?’ He answered, ‘Yes, and more; go into the house and get some breakfast.’ So I partook of breakfast with him. ‘How far have you come this morning?’ he asked. ‘From Mirage,’ I answered. ‘How far did you travel yesterday?’ ‘From Wadsworth, about twenty-five miles.’ ‘Now, stranger, you say you belong in Massachusetts and going home. Do you honestly think you can made that distance with that cow?’ ‘I do. Why not? You see, she has iron shoes* on her feet, and I think she will stand the journey as well as the horse. She has nothing to do but walk; I think she will make the journey.”

To be continued …

* To see a photos of iron shoes for, and the shoeing of, cattle, click here.

… “It was about half-past eight o’clock when I reached Mirage. I took Fanny from the carriage and fastened her to the left rear wheel, the cow opposite and gave them water and grain, made up my bed between them and laid down and was soon asleep. Some time in the night I awoke, my watch having run down I could not tell the time; all around was still. On my left at a long distance, I heard the cry of a coyote. I thought it was morning, still I could not see any signs of the sun having risen.

“I laid down and thought to sleep but could not. I spoke to my horse, ‘Fanny, are you asleep?’ She at once got up and I gave her some grain. This brought up Bessie; she wanted some too, so I gave her some and both were busily eating. Looking eastward, I was sure I saw a light and thought it must be morning and so made ready for moving forward. The light I saw was only about the width of my hand.”

Continuing from Sunday …

“I left Wadsworth on the 25th and made Mirage the same day, a distance of twenty-five miles. After leaving Wadsworth, the first six miles was through deep, heavy sand, the wheels sank into it about six inches, which made hard pulling for the horse. I also had a heavier load than usual: there was a sack of barley for the horse, and a sack of bran for the cow, each 100 pounds; ten gallons of water, 85 pounds; in all 285 pounds; besides my common outfit, such as clothing, bedding, provisions, and other things, say about 200 pounds more. My carriage is light, about 300 pounds, making a total of about 800 pounds. Fanny had to haul this through six miles of sand. I had been informed of this heavy road before starting.

“About nine o’clock I reached the desert; just as I was reaching the bottom of the bluff on the desert, the express train from the west passed me. I stopped and gave the horse a can of water, but did not give any to the cow although she wanted some. About two miles farther we came to a second station; I stopped and looked around but saw no one. I looked for the water tank and soon found it below the surface of the ground; I lifted the lid and found there was water; I got a pail and tested it and found it fair. I gave both horse and cow as much as they would drink and filled my empty can and then went on; it was about ten in the forenoon.

“I had not gone much farther, when on looking round saw the freight train from the west approaching. All hands on the trains knew me, as they had bought my milk. At this time I was traveling on the great desert, a better road I never saw; a hard smooth surface, rather too hard for Bessie’s feet. I am now on the left of the railroad, my direction is to the east. In front of me are some buildings, which proved to be salt works. About three o’clock I met the freight train from the east, and at four reached Hot Springs.

“Here I made a stop and introduced myself to the agent, showing him my card in regard to water. He told me that I could have all I wished. I gave the cattle water and grain and refilled my cans, intending to do so at every station. It was fair water, brought from Wadsworth from the Truckee river. ‘Where are the Hot Springs?’ I asked of the depot master. Pointing, he answered, ‘They are yonder. You will see where to turn in at the trail, it is only a short distance to your right.’ I went to see the springs and found a wet, dirty, nasty, mud-hole. The water was warm, not hot as I had supposed. I thought myself sold, as others before had been on this place.

“I traveled farther and about six o’clock met another train from the east, but could not see much express about it, as stops were made at every station, running at the rate of a mile in three minutes.”

Tomorrow: Mr. Johnson reaches Mirage …