THE EXPEDITION OF THE DONNER PARTY

AND ITS TRAGIC FATE

BY ELIZA P. DONNER HOUGHTON

S. O. Houghton

Eliza P. Donner Houghton

PREFACE

Out of the sunshine and shadows of sixty-eight years come these personal recollections of California—of the period when American civilization first crossed its mountain heights and entered its overland gateways.

I seem to hear the tread of many feet, the lowing of many herds, and know they are the re-echoing sounds of the sturdy pioneer home-seekers. Travel-stained and weary, yet triumphant and happy, most of them reach their various destinations, and their trying experiences and valorous deeds are quietly interwoven with the general history of the State.

Not so, however, the "Donner Party," of which my father was captain. Like fated trains of other epochs whose privations, sufferings, and self-sacrifices have added renown to colonization movements and served as danger signals to later wayfarers, that party began its journey with song of hope, and within the first milestone of the promised land ended it with a prayer for help. "Help for the helpless in the storms of the Sierra Nevada Mountains!"

And I, a child then, scarcely four years of age, was too young to do more than watch and suffer with other children the lesser privations of our snow-beleaguered camp; and with them survive, because the fathers and mothers hungered in order that the children might live.

Scenes of loving care and tenderness were emblazoned on my mind. Scenes of anguish, pain, and dire distress were branded on my brain during days, weeks, and months of famine,—famine which reduced the party from eighty-one souls to forty-five survivors, before the heroic relief men from the settlements could accomplish their mission of humanity.

Who better than survivors knew the heart-rending circumstances of life and death in those mountain camps? Yet who can wonder that tenderest recollections and keenest heartaches silenced their quivering lips for many years; and left opportunities for false and sensational details to be spread by morbid collectors of food for excitable brains, and for prolific historians who too readily accepted exaggerated and unauthentic versions as true statements?

Who can wonder at my indignation and grief in little girlhood, when I was told of acts of brutality, inhumanity, and cannibalism, attributed to those starved parents, who in life had shared their last morsels of food with helpless companions?

Who can wonder that I then resolved that, "When I grow to be a woman I shall tell the story of my party so clearly that no one can doubt its truth"? Who can doubt that my resolve has been ever kept fresh in mind, by eager research for verification and by diligent communication with older survivors, and rescuers sent to our relief, who answered my many questions and cleared my obscure points?

And now, when blessed with the sunshine of peace and happiness, I am finishing my work of filial love and duty to my party and the State of my adoption, who can wonder that I find on my chain of remembrance countless names marked, "forget me not"? Among the many to whom I became greatly indebted in my young womanhood for valuable data and gracious encouragement in my researches are General William Tecumseh Sherman, General John A. Sutter, Mrs. Ulysses S. Grant, Mrs. Jessie Benton Frémont, Honorable Allen Francis, and C.F. McGlashan, author of the "History of the Donner Party."

My fondest affection must ever cling to the dear, quaint old pioneer men and women, whose hand-clasps were warmth and cheer, and whose givings were like milk and honey to my desolate childhood. For each and all of them I have full measure of gratitude, often pressed down, and now overflowing to their sons and daughters, for, with keenest appreciation I learned that, on June 10, 1910, the order of Native Sons of the Golden West laid the corner stone of "Donner Monument," on the old emigrant trail near the beautiful lake which bears the party's name. There the Native Sons of the Golden West, aided by the Native Daughters of the Golden West, propose to erect a memorial to all overland California pioneers.

In a letter to me from Dr. C.W. Chapman, chairman of that monument committee, is the following forceful paragraph:

"The Donner Party has been selected by us as the most typical and as the most varied and comprehensive in its experiences of all the trains that made these wonderful journeys of thousands of miles, so unique in their daring, so brave, so worthy of the admiration of man."

ELIZA P. DONNER HOUGHTON.

Los Angeles, California,

September, 1911.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I
THE PACIFIC COAST IN 1845—SPEECHES OF SENATOR BENTON AND REPORT OF CAPT. FRÉMONT—MY FATHER AND HIS FAMILY—INTEREST AWAKENED IN THE NEW TERRITORY—FORMATION OF THE FIRST EMIGRANT PARTY FROM ILLINOIS TO CALIFORNIA—PREPARATIONS FOR THE JOURNEY—THE START—ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF CIVILIZATION

CHAPTER II
IN THE TERRITORY OF KANSAS—PRAIRIE SCHOONERS FROM SANTA FÉ TO INDEPENDENCE, MO.—LIFE en route—THE BIG BLUE—CAMP GOVERNMENT—THE Blue Rover

CHAPTER III
IN THE HAUNTS OF THE PAWNEES—LETTERS OF MRS. GEORGE DONNER—HALT AT FORT BERNARD—SIOUX INDIANS AT FORT LARAMIE

CHAPTER IV
FOURTH OF JULY IN AN EMIGRANT PARTY—OPEN LETTER OF LANSFORD HASTINGS—GEORGE DONNER ELECTED CAPTAIN OF PARTY BOUND FOR CALIFORNIA—ENTERING THE GREAT DESERT—INSUFFICIENT SUPPLY OF FOOD—VOLUNTEERS COMMISSIONED BY MY FATHER TO HASTEN TO SUTTER'S FORT FOR RELIEF

CHAPTER V
BEWILDERING GUIDE BOARD—SOUL-TRYING STRUGGLES—FIRST SNOW—REED-SNYDER TRAGEDY—HARDCOOP'S FATE

CHAPTER VI
INDIAN DEPREDATIONS—WOLFINGER'S DISAPPEARANCE—STANTON RETURNS WITH SUPPLIES FURNISHED BY CAPT. SUTTER—DONNER WAGONS SEPARATED FROM TRAIN FOREVER—TERRIBLE PIECE OF NEWS—FORCED INTO SHELTER AT DONNER LAKE—DONNER CAMP ON PROSSER CREEK.

CHAPTER VII
SNOWBOUND—SCARCITY OF FOOD AT BOTH CAMPS—WATCHING FOR RETURN OF MCCUTCHEN AND REED

CHAPTER VIII
ANOTHER STORM—FOUR DEATHS IN DONNER CAMP—FIELD MICE USED FOR FOOD—CHANGED APPEARANCE OF THE STARVING—SUNSHINE—DEPARTURE OF THE "FORLORN HOPE"—WATCHING FOR RELIEF—IMPOSSIBLE TO DISTURB THE BODIES OF THE DEAD IN DONNER CAMP—ARRIVAL AND DEPARTURE OF FIRST RELIEF PARTY

CHAPTER IX
SUFFERINGS OF THE "FORLORN HOPE"—RESORT TO HUMAN FLESH—"CAMP OF DEATH"—BOOTS CRISPED AND EATEN—DEER KILLED—INDIAN Rancheria—THE "WHITE MAN'S HOME" AT LAST

CHAPTER X
RELIEF MEASURES INAUGURATED IN CALIFORNIA—DISTURBED CONDITIONS BECAUSE OF MEXICAN WAR—GENEROUS SUBSCRIPTIONS—THREE PARTIES ORGANIZE—"FIRST RELIEF," UNDER RACINE TUCKER; "SECOND RELIEF," UNDER REED AND GREENWOOD; AND RELAY CAMP UNDER WOODWORTH—FIRST RELIEF PARTY CROSSES SNOW-BELT AND REACHES DONNER LAKE

CHAPTER XI
WATCHING FOR THE SECOND RELIEF PARTY—"OLD NAVAJO"—LAST FOOD IN CAMP

CHAPTER XII
ARRIVAL OF SECOND RELIEF, OR REED-GREENWOOD PARTY—FEW SURVIVORS STRONG ENOUGH TO TRAVEL—WIFE'S CHOICE—PARTINGS AT DONNER CAMP—MY TWO SISTERS AND I DESERTED—DEPARTURE OF SECOND RELIEF PARTY

CHAPTER XIII
A FATEFUL CABIN—MRS. MURPHY GIVES MOTHERLY COMFORT—THE GREAT STORM—HALF A BISCUIT—ARRIVAL OF THIRD RELIEF—"WHERE IS MY BOY?"

CHAPTER XIV
THE QUEST OF TWO FATHERS—SECOND RELIEF IN DISTRESS—THIRD RELIEF ORGANIZED AT WOODWORTH'S RELAY CAMP—DIVIDES AND ONE HALF GOES TO SUCCOR SECOND RELIEF AND ITS REFUGEES; AND THE OTHER HALF PROCEEDS TO DONNER LAKE—A LAST FAREWELL—A WOMAN'S SACRIFICE

CHAPTER XV
SIMON MURPHY, FRANCES, GEORGIA, AND I TAKEN FROM THE LAKE CABINS BY THE THIRD RELIEF—NO FOOD TO LEAVE—CROSSING THE SNOW—REMNANT OF THE SECOND RELIEF OVERTAKEN—OUT OF THE SNOW—INCIDENTS OF THE JOURNEY—JOHNSON'S RANCH—THE SINCLAIR HOME—SUTTER'S FORT

CHAPTER XVI
ELITHA AND LEANNA—LIFE AT THE FORT—WATCHING THE COW PATH—RETURN OF THE FALLON PARTY—KESEBERG BROUGHT IN BY THEM—FATHER AND MOTHER DID NOT COME

CHAPTER XVII
ORPHANS—KESEBERG AND HIS ACCUSERS—SENSATIONAL ACCOUNTS OF THE TRAGEDY AT DONNER LAKE—PROPERTY SOLD AND GUARDIAN APPOINTED—KINDLY INDIANS—"GRANDPA"—MARRIAGE OF ELITHA

CHAPTER XVIII
"GRANDMA"—HAPPY VISITS—A NEW HOME—AM PERSUADED TO LEAVE IT

CHAPTER XIX
ON A CATTLE RANCH NEAR THE COSUMNE RIVER—"NAME BILLY"—INDIAN GRUB FEAST

CHAPTER XX
I RETURN TO GRANDMA—WAR RUMORS AT THE FORT—LINGERING HOPE THAT MY MOTHER MIGHT BE LIVING—AN INDIAN CONVOY—THE BRUNNERS AND THEIR HOME

CHAPTER XXI
MORAL DISCIPLINE—THE HISTORICAL PUEBLO OF SONOMA—SUGAR PLUMS

CHAPTER XXII
GOLD DISCOVERED—"CALIFORNIA IS OURS"—NURSING THE SICK—THE U.S. MILITARY POST—BURIAL OF AN OFFICER

CHAPTER XXIII
REAPING AND THRESHING—A PIONEER FUNERAL—THE HOMELESS AND WAYFARING APPEAL TO MRS. BRUNNER—RETURN OF THE MINERS—SOCIAL GATHERINGS—OUR DAILY ROUTINE—STOLEN PLEASURES—A LITTLE DAIRYMAID—MY DOGSKIN SHOES

CHAPTER XXIV
MEXICAN METHODS OF CULTIVATION—FIRST STEAMSHIP THROUGH THE GOLDEN GATE—"THE ARGONAUTS" OR "BOYS OF '49"—A LETTER FROM THE STATES—JOHN BAPTISTE—JAKIE LEAVES US—THE FIRST AMERICAN SCHOOL IN SONOMA

CHAPTER XXV
FEVER PATIENTS FROM THE MINES—UNMARKED GRAVES—THE TALES AND TAUNTS THAT WOUNDED MY YOUNG HEART

CHAPTER XXVI
THANK OFFERINGS—MISS DOTY'S SCHOOL—THE BOND OF KINDRED—IN JACKET AND TROUSERS—CHUM CHARLIE

CHAPTER XXVII
CAPT. FRISBIE—WEDDING FESTIVITIES—THE MASTERPIECE OF GRANDMA'S YOUTH—SEÑORA VALLEJO—JAKIE'S RETURN—HIS DEATH—A CHEROKEE INDIAN WHO HAD STOOD BY MY FATHER'S GRAVE

CHAPTER XXVIII
ELITHA, FRANCES, AND MR. MILLER VISIT US—MRS. BRUNNER CLAIMS US AS HER CHILDREN—THE DAGUERREOTYPE

CHAPTER XXIX
GREAT SMALLPOX EPIDEMIC—ST. MARY'S HALL—THANKSGIVING DAY IN CALIFORNIA—ANOTHER BROTHER-IN-LAW

CHAPTER XXX
IDEALS AND LONGINGS—THE FUTURE—CHRISTMAS

CHAPTER XXXI
THE WIDOW STEIN AND LITTLE JOHNNIE—"DAUGHTERS OF A SAINTED MOTHER"—ESTRANGEMENT AND DESOLATION—A RESOLUTION AND A VOW—MY PEOPLE ARRIVE AND PLAN TO BEAR ME AWAY

CHAPTER XXXII
GRANDMA'S RETURN—GOOD-BYE TO THE DUMB CREATURES—GEORGIA AND I ARE OFF FOR SACRAMENTO

CHAPTER XXXIII
THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF SACRAMENTO—A GLIMPSE OF GRANDPA—THE RANCHO DE LOS CAZADORES—MY SWEETEST PRIVILEGE—LETTERS FROM THE BRUNNERS

CHAPTER XXXIV
TRAGEDY IN SONOMA—CHRISTIAN BRUNNER IN A PRISON CELL—ST. CATHERINE'S CONVENT AT BENICIA—ROMANCE OF SPANISH CALIFORNIA—THE BEAUTIFUL ANGEL IN BLACK—THE PRAYER OF DONA CONCEPCION ARGUELLO REALIZED—MONASTIC RITES

CHAPTER XXXV
THE CHAMBERLAIN FAMILY, COUSINS OF DANIEL WEBSTER—JEFFERSON GRAMMAR SCHOOL—FURTHER CONFLICTING ACCOUNTS OF THE DONNER PARTY—PATERNAL ANCESTRY—S.O. HOUGHTON—DEATH TAKES ONE OF THE SEVEN SURVIVING DONNERS

CHAPTER XXXVI
NEWS OF THE BRUNNERS—LETTERS FROM GRANDPA

CHAPTER XXXVII
ARRIVAL OF THE FIRST PONY EXPRESS

CHAPTER XXXVIII
WAR AND RUMORS OF WAR—MARRIAGE—SONOMA REVISITED

APPENDIX I
ARTICLES PUBLISHED IN The California Star—STATISTICS OF THE PARTY—NOTES OF AGUILLA GLOVER—EXTRACT FROM THORNTON—RECOLLECTIONS OF JOHN BAPTISTE TRUBODE

APPENDIX II
THE REED-GREENWOOD PARTY, OR SECOND RELIEF—REMINISCENCES OF WILLIAM G. MURPHY—CONCERNING NICHOLAS CLARK AND JOHN BAPTISTE

APPENDIX III
THE REPORT OF THOMAS FALLON—DEDUCTIONS—STATEMENT OF EDWIN BRYANT—PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCES

APPENDIX IV
LEWIS KESEBERG

INDEX

NOTE

I wish to express my appreciation of the courtesies and assistance kindly extended me by the following, in the preparation of the illustrations for this book: Mr. Lynwood Abbott, "Burr-McIntosh Magazine," Mr. J.A. Munk, donor of the Munk Library of Arizoniana to the Southwest Museum, Mr. Hector Alliot, Curator of the Southwest Museum, the officers and attendants of the Los Angeles Public Library, Miss Meta C. Stofen, City Librarian, Sonoma, Cal., Miss Elizabeth Benton Frémont, Mr. C.M. Hunt, Editor "Grizzly Bear," the Dominican Sisters of St. Catherine's Convent at Benicia, Cal., and Mrs. C.C. Maynard.

E.P.D.H.

THE EXPEDITION OF THE DONNER PARTY

CHAPTER I

Prior to the year 1845, that great domain lying west of the Rocky Mountains and extending to the Pacific Ocean was practically unknown. About that time, however, the spirit of inquiry was awakening. The powerful voice of Senator Thomas H. Benton was heard, both in public address and in the halls of Congress, calling attention to Oregon and California. Captain John C. Frémont's famous topographical report and maps had been accepted by Congress, and ten thousand copies ordered to be printed and distributed to the people throughout the United States. The commercial world was not slow to appreciate the value of those distant and hitherto unfrequented harbors. Tales of the equable climate and the marvellous fertility of the soil spread rapidly, and it followed that before the close of 1845, pioneers on the western frontier of our ever expanding republic were preparing to open a wagon route to the Pacific coast.

After careful investigation and consideration, my father, George Donner, and his elder brother, Jacob, decided to join the westward migration, selecting California as their destination. My mother was in accord with my father's wishes, and helped him to carry out his plan.

At this time he was sixty-two years of age, large, fine-looking, and in perfect health. He was of German parentage, born of Revolutionary stock just after the close of the war. The spirit of adventure, with which he was strongly imbued, had led him in his youth from North Carolina, his native State, to the land of Daniel Boone, thence to Indiana, to Illinois, to Texas, and ultimately back to Illinois, while still in manhood's prime.

By reason of his geniality and integrity, he was widely known as "Uncle George" in Sangamon County, Illinois, where he had broken the virgin soil two and a half miles from Springfield, when that place was a small village. There he built a home, acquired wealth, and took an active part in the development of the country round about.

Twice had he been married, and twice bereft by death when he met my mother, Tamsen Eustis Dozier, then a widow, whom he married May 24, 1839. She was a native of Newburyport, Massachusetts. She was cultured, and had been a successful teacher and writer. Their home became the local literary centre after she was installed as its mistress.

My father had two sons and eight daughters when she became his wife; but their immediate family circle consisted only of his aged parents, and Elitha and Leanna, young daughters of his second marriage, until July 8, 1840, when blue-eyed Frances Eustis was born to them. On the fourth of December, 1841, brown-eyed Georgia Ann was added to the number; and on the eighth of March, 1843, I came into this world.

I grew to be a healthy, self-reliant child, a staff to my sister Georgia, who, on account of a painful accident and long illness during her first year, did not learn to walk steadily until after I was strong enough to help her to rise, and lead her to a sand pile near the orchard, where we played away the bright days of two uneventful years.

With the approaching Winter of 1845 popular interest in the great territory to the west of us spread to our community. Maps and reports were eagerly studied. The few old letters which had been received from traders and trappers along the Pacific coast were brought forth for general perusal. The course of the reading society which met weekly at our home was changed, in order that my mother might read to those assembled the publications which had kindled in my father and uncle the desire to migrate to the land so alluringly described. Prominent among these works were "Travels Among the Rocky Mountains, Through Oregon and California," by Lansford W. Hastings, and also the "Topographical Report, with Maps Attached," by Captain Frémont, which has been already mentioned.

The Springfield Journal, published by Mr. Allen Francis, appeared with glowing editorials, strongly advocating emigration to the Pacific coast, and its columns contained notices of companies forming in Southern and Southwestern States, each striving to be ready to join the "Great Overland Caravan," scheduled to leave Independence, Missouri, for Oregon, early in May, 1846.

Mr. James F. Reed, a well-known resident of Springfield, was among those who urged the formation of a company to go directly from Sangamon County to California. Intense interest was manifested; and had it not been for the widespread financial depression of that year, a large number would have gone from that vicinity. The great cost of equipment, however, kept back many who desired to make the long journey.

As it was, James F. Reed, his wife and four children, and Mrs. Keyes, the mother of Mrs. Reed; Jacob Donner, his wife, and seven children; and George Donner, his wife, and five children; also their teamsters and camp assistants,—thirty-two persons all told,—constituted the first emigrant party from Illinois to California. The plan was to join the Oregon caravan at Independence, Missouri, continue with it to Fort Hall, and thence follow Frémont's route to the Bay of San Francisco.

The preparations made for the journey by my parents were practical. Strong, commodious emigrant wagons were constructed especially for the purpose. The oxen to draw them were hardy, well trained, and rapid walkers. Three extra yoke were provided for emergencies. Cows were selected to furnish milk on the way. A few young beef cattle, five saddle-horses, and a good watch-dog completed the list of live stock.

After carefully calculating the requisite amount of provisions, father stored in his wagons a quantity that was deemed more than sufficient to last until we should reach California. Seed and implements for use on the prospective farms in the new country also constituted an important part of our outfit. Nor was that all. There were bolts of cheap cotton prints, red and yellow flannels, bright-bordered handkerchiefs, glass beads, necklaces, chains, brass finger rings, earrings, pocket looking-glasses and divers other knickknacks dear to the hearts of aborigines. These were intended for distribution as peace offerings among the Indians. Lastly, there were rich stores of laces, muslins, silks, satins, velvets and like cherished fabrics, destined to be used in exchange for Mexican land-grants in that far land to which we were bound.

My mother was energetic in all these preparations, but her special province was to make and otherwise get in readiness a bountiful supply of clothing. She also superintended the purchase of materials for women's handiwork, apparatus for preserving botanical specimens, water colors and oil paints, books and school supplies; these latter being selected for use in the young ladies' seminary which she hoped to establish in California.

A liberal sum of money for meeting incidental expenses and replenishing supplies on the journey, if need be, was stored in the compartments of two wide buckskin girdles, to be worn in concealment about the person. An additional sum of ten thousand dollars, cash, was stitched between the folds of a quilt for safe transportation. This was a large amount for those days, and few knew that my parents were carrying it with them. I gained my information concerning it in later years from Mr. Francis, to whom they showed it.

To each of his grown children my father deeded a fair share of his landed estate, reserving one hundred and ten acres near the homestead for us five younger children, who in course of time might choose to return to our native State.

As time went on, our preparations were frequently interrupted by social obligations, farewell visits, dinners, and other merrymakings with friends and kindred far and near. Thursday, April 15, 1846, was the day fixed for our departure, and the members of our household were at work before the rosy dawn. We children were dressed early in our new linsey travelling suits; and as the final packing progressed, we often peeped out of the window at the three big white covered wagons that stood in our yard.

In the first were stored the merchandise and articles not to be handled until they should reach their destination; in the second, provisions, clothing, camp tools, and other necessaries of camp life. The third was our family home on wheels, with feed boxes attached to the back of the wagon-bed for Fanny and Margaret, the favorite saddle-horses, which were to be kept ever close at hand for emergencies.

Early in the day, the first two wagons started, each drawn by three yoke of powerful oxen, whose great moist eyes looked as though they too had parting tears to shed. The loose cattle quickly followed, but it was well on toward noon before the family wagon was ready.

Then came a pause fraught with anguish to the dear ones gathered about the homestead to say farewell. Each tried to be courageous, but not one was so brave as father when he bade good-bye to his friends, to his children, and to his children's children.

I sat beside my mother with my hand clasped in hers, as we slowly moved away from that quaint old house on its grassy knoll, from the orchard, the corn land, and the meadow; as we passed through the last pair of bars, her clasp tightened, and I, glancing up, saw tears in her eyes and sorrow in her face. I was grieved at her pain, and in sympathy nestled closer to her side and sat so quiet that I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, the sun still shone, but we had encamped for the night on the ground where the State House of Illinois now stands.

Mr. Reed and family, and my uncle Jacob and family, with their travelling equipments and cattle, were already settled there. Under father's direction, our own encampment was soon accomplished. By nightfall, the duties of the day were ended, and the members of our party gathered around one fire to spend a social hour.

Presently, the clatter of galloping horses was heard, and shortly thereafter eight horsemen alighted, and with merry greetings joined our circle. They were part of the reading society, and had come to hold its last reunion beside our first camp-fire. Mr. Francis was among them, and took an inventory of the company's outfit for the benefit of the readers of The Springfield Journal.

They piled more wood on the blazing fire, making it a beacon light to those who were watching from afar; they sang songs, told tales, and for the time being drove homesickness from our hearts. Then they rode away in the moonlight, and our past was a sweet memory, our future a beautiful dream.

William Donner, my half-brother, came to camp early next morning to help us to get the cattle started, and to accompany us as far as the outskirts of civilization.

We reached Independence, Missouri, on the eleventh of May, with our wagons and cattle in prime condition, and our people in the best of spirits. Our party encamped near that bustling frontier town, and were soon a part of the busy crowds, making ready for the great prairie on the morrow. Teams thronged the highways; troops of men, women, and children hurried nervously about seeking information and replenishing supplies. Jobbers on the street were crying their wares, anxious to sell anything or everything required, from a shoestring to a complete outfit for a four months' journey across the plains. Beads of sweat clung to the merchants' faces as they rushed to and fro, filling orders. Brawny blacksmiths, with breasts bared and sleeves rolled high, hammered and twisted red hot metal into the divers forms necessary to repair yokes and wagons.

Good fellowship prevailed as strangers met, each anxious to learn something of those who might by chance become his neighbors in line.

Among the pleasant acquaintances made that day, was Mr. J.Q. Thornton, a young attorney from Quincy, Illinois, who, with his invalid wife, was emigrating to Oregon. He informed us that himself and wife and ex-Governor Boggs and family, of Missouri, were hourly expecting Alphonso Boone, grandson of Daniel Boone; and that as soon as Boone and his family should arrive from Kentucky, they would all hasten on to join Colonel Russell's California company, which was already on the way, but had promised to await them somewhere on the Kansas River.

It was then believed that at least seven thousand emigrant wagons would go West, through Independence, that season. Obviously the journey should be made while pasturage and water continued plentiful along the route. Our little party at once determined to overtake Colonel Russell and apply for admission to his train, and for that purpose we resumed travel early on the morning of May twelfth.

As we drove up Main Street, delayed emigrants waved us a light-hearted good-bye, and as we approached the building of the American Tract Society, its agent came to our wagons and put into the hand of each child a New Testament, and gave to each adult a Bible, and also tracts to distribute among the heathen in the benighted land to which we were going. Near the outskirts of town we parted from William Donner, took a last look at Independence, turned our backs to the morning sun, and became pioneers indeed to the Far West.