Reminiscences of a Pioneer | Page 5

had been rounded up and oxen placed under
the yoke. Wilson became involved in a quarrel with a young man in his
employ. Suddenly both drew revolvers and began firing at each other.
The duel ended by Wilson falling from his mule, a dead man. The
young man rode away and was seen no more. A grave was dug, the
dead man buried and within two hours the train was in motion. There
was no time for tears or ceremonies. Winter was coming on, and the
terrible mountains must be crossed. Besides the dread of an Indian
attack was ever present.
After leaving Snake river we lost no more cattle. We crossed the Blue
Mountains without any mishap. We met several settlers coming out
with teams to help any that might be in distress. They were told to go
on back, as others were behind far more in need of assistance than we.
On reaching the Columbia river we found the Indians very friendly and
obtained an abundance of fresh salmon. Trifles were traded for salmon
and wild currants, which formed a welcome addition to our bill of fare.
The dreaded Cascade Mountains were finally reached. A storm was
raging on the mountain and we were advised by settlers whom we met

coming out to assist the immigrants, to wait for better weather. Some
disregarded the advice and paid dearly for their temerity, losing many
of their cattle, and only for the help rendered by the settlers might
themselves have perished.
As soon as the storm spent its force a start was made and the dreaded
mountains passed in six days, and without any serious mishap. On
reaching the valley we were everywhere greeted with genuine western
hospitality. Vegetables were plentiful and cheap--in fact could be had
for the asking. But while wheat was abundant there were no mills to
grind it into flour, and we soon discovered that that very necessary
article could not be had for love or money. We were therefore soon
reduced to a daily diet of boiled wheat, potatoes, pumpkins and wild
meat, the latter requiring but little exertion to secure. But we were as
well off as anybody else, and with the remnants of clothing saved from
the wreck of the desert and plains passed the winter in health and some
degree of comfort.


Chapter II
.
Our First Winter in the Willamette Valley.
The winter of 1852-53 will forever be memorable in the annals of
pioneer days in Oregon. Indeed, nothing comparable had been
experienced by immigrants in former years. Deep snows encompassed
us from without, and while we were sheltered from the storms by a
comfortable log cabin, and were supplied with a fair amount of
provisions such as they were, a gloom settled over all. Cattle and horses
were without forage and none could be had. Reduced to skin and bone
by the long and toilsome journey across the plains, they were illy
prepared to stand the rigors of such a winter. In this extremity recourse
was had to the forest. The Oregon woods, as all are aware, are covered
by long streamers of yellow moss, and in the cutting of firewood it was
discovered this moss was devoured with a relish by cattle and horses.
Then began the struggle to save our stock. From early morning to night
the ring of the ax was unceasing. The cattle, especially, soon learned

the meaning of the cracking of a tree and bolted for the spot. To prevent
them being killed by the falling trees, the smaller children were pressed
into service to herd them away until the tree was on the ground. The
stock soon began to thrive and cows gave an increased amount of milk
which was hailed with delight by the small children and afforded a
welcome addition to their bill of fare--boiled wheat, potatoes, meat, and
turnips.
Thus wore away the terrible winter of 1852-53. I say terrible, and the
word but poorly expresses our situation during that memorable winter.
To fully understand our situation one has but to imagine oneself in a
strange land, far from human aid, save from those environed as
ourselves. We were three thousand miles from "home," surrounded by
a primeval wilderness, in which ever lurked the treacherous savage.
Happily for us and for all, no annoyance or real danger threatened us
from that quarter. A few years before, a salutary lesson had been taught
the savages. The deadly rifles of the pioneers had instilled into their
bosoms a wholesome fear. Information had reached the settlers that the
Indians contemplated a massacre--that they were going to break out.
The information reached them through the medium of a friendly Indian.
The result was that the settlers "broke out" first. A company was
formed, consisting of