Kitabı oku: «Martha of California: A Story of the California Trail», sayfa 7

THE GREAT SALT DESERT

We were near what is known as the Great Salt Desert; in fact, were to cross it on the morrow, and when Eben Jordan led me some distance farther up the ridge, I could see it at my feet.

The desert is covered with salt like sand, and on it grows nothing except wild sage, while from where we were then camped, until it would be possible again to find water, is no less than sixty miles, as Eben said.

Sixty miles over a soft surface where the animals would oftentimes sink fetlock-deep, and the wheels of the wagons plow into the salt sand until the progress must be woefully slow. In addition, all the while we would plod along knowing that no water was to be had, save what we carried with us, until the train gained the opposite side.

We were camped on the side of a mountain which seemed to be made up almost wholly of rock; this place had been decided upon because there could be found a small spring, yielding barely enough water to satisfy the desires of ourselves and the animals.

It was the last spring or stream of fresh water we should come upon until we had traveled across that desert, which, from the distance, looked like a great sea of milk. Once we had started upon the journey, it would be necessary to continue on, heeding not those who might fall by the way, so I heard father and Colonel Russell say, for the lives of our people depended upon our going steadily forward.

PREPARING FOR A DANGEROUS JOURNEY

Orders were given by the leaders of the party that our mothers cook no pemmican nor any salted food, lest it increase our thirst, and we ate bread with as much milk as could be had from the cows; within a few hours, for we were to set off again at midnight, another meal, consisting wholly of bread made from corn meal, would be served.

The water of the spring was so salty as to be almost undrinkable. During the evening the women and girls were busily engaged making coffee, for in such form the water was a trifle more palatable, and we were advised to fill with the coffee every vessel that would hold liquid.

As for the cattle, they would be forced to make the march of sixty miles with nothing to drink save what could be carried in two casks which had been bought at Fort Bridger for that especial purpose.

When I asked father how it would be possible for us to give the animals drink even once, from no more than sixty gallons of water, he said they were not intending to allow the poor creatures to have what they wanted. The supply of water would be used simply to moisten the mouths of those that were suffering most severely. There could be no question whatsoever but that the live stock would be in great misery, and if it so chanced that we people escaped dire distress, then indeed we should hold ourselves fortunate.

BREAD AND COFFEE MAKING

Fortunately Ellen and I had little time in which to borrow trouble concerning the future, for every woman and girl found plenty with which to occupy her hands, as we prepared for the most dangerous and disagreeable portion of all the journey.

We made corn bread in abundance, cooking no less than three times as much as we could eat, for Colonel Russell suggested that it was possible we might abate the thirst of the animals by giving them bread in small quantities during the march, and so we filled every available place in the wagon with this food.

Mother made coffee enough to provide us with a supply on that night, as well as for breakfast, and, in addition, we had filled to the brim every vessel which was water-tight, until I should think we must have had no less than three gallons, while every other wagon was equally well supplied.

The men and boys were not idle while we baked the corn bread and made coffee. They had enough and plenty with which to occupy their time, for every piece of harness, every yoke bow, wheel, or other portion of the outfit which might give way, was looked after carefully, lest there be a delay, because a halt on the desert, so we had been told at Fort Bridger, might mean death to us all.

That night the animals were corralled inside our circle of wagons in order that they might be ready when the hour came for us to set off, and for the first time since I had known Eben Jordan I saw an expression of anxiety upon the lad's face.

Wherever one looked among our people he could see gloomy faces, and there was no more singing of "Joe Bowers," no whistling and joking among the lads, as was usually the case during an evening in camp.

BREAKING CAMP AT MIDNIGHT

When midnight came, I had a very good idea that there was more danger to be met in crossing the desert than I had been willing to believe, for we were awakened and told that the march would be begun in half an hour.

Father urged mother and us girls to eat and drink heartily while we might. When I asked him why we were to set off at such an unusual hour, he replied in a serious manner that from the moment we started until the desert had been crossed, there would be no halt made unless some of the oxen fell by the wayside and we were forced to delay in order to unyoke them.

When Ellen asked him how long a time the crossing would take, he said he hoped no more than twenty or twenty-four hours. He also told us it had been agreed that if one of the wagons should break down, or any accident happen, the unfortunate ones were to be left behind, the remainder of the company continuing on without making any effort to aid them.

Then, perhaps for the first time, I began to realize how much danger lay before us. Surely if our fathers had agreed that during the coming march they would make no halt for any reason, there must be grave cause for fear.

The men made ready for the march by the light of the moon, and there were yet no signs of the coming day when we set off; and then we were a mournful party indeed, the drivers urging their beasts to the utmost, as if they realized that every moment was precious.

THE APPROACH TO THE SALT DESERT

There was nothing very dreadful to be seen on the first six miles of the march, for then we were winding our way up the ridge, on the side of which we had been encamped, and save for the fact that Ellen and I were suffering from the cold, the journey was much the same as we had already known.

Then we rode down the other side of the ridge, among stunted cedar trees which looked as if they were dying from lack of water, and Eben Jordan came past our wagon to say we had come upon Captain Frémont's trail.

The fact that we were to follow in the footsteps of other human beings gave me more courage and caused Ellen to appear almost cheerful.

We crossed a valley where nothing was growing save wild sage, and then over rocky ridges which looked much like masses of dark green glass, through a narrow gap which might have been cut by the hand of man in the solid ledge, after which we saw spread out before us that vast desert plain, white as a sea of milk and most desolate and forbidding in appearance.

A PLAIN OF SALT

Not a vestige of any green thing could be seen within our range of vision. No bird was flying, and the silence was so like the silence of the tomb that I did not dare to speak aloud while calling mother's attention to this thing or that, when we halted for a short time.

This was the last stop we would make, save in case of accident. Some of the animals ate the bread, others refused it, and then I saw what would have been, under other circumstances, a comical sight, for the men were going about with wet cloths moistening the mouths of the oxen.

After spending nearly an hour in making the final preparations, word was given for the train to set off. Instead of being like milk, we found that the desert was made up of a bluish clay, covered here and there in blotches with what was much like salt, and these white spots were so large and numerous as to give to the whole the appearance of milky white when seen from the distance.

The oxen sank fetlock-deep, and as we advanced there were times when they broke through what was like a crust, even to their very knees; therefore one can well fancy that the wheels plowed into this yielding surface until it was quite as much as the cattle could do to pull the wagons along.

LIKE A SEA OF FROZEN MILK

If all the way had been as difficult as the start, we might never have gained the other side; but as we advanced the surface grew harder and harder, until finally even the shoes of the horses failed to make any impression upon it. Then I heard father say, as he came back from time to time to speak with mother, that it appeared to him as if we were traveling over a solid crust of salt.

At the end of an hour, perhaps, we came upon what Ellen called another "soft spot," and for a distance of two or three miles the oxen strained and tugged at the yokes as they barely succeeded in drawing the wagons at a snail's pace.

Then we girls had most terrible forebodings, for it seemed certain we could never hope to cross that place before all the company had died from thirst.

To our great relief as well as the relief of the cattle, we came upon a hard surface once more, and the oxen were urged to their utmost speed in order to make up for the time we had lost while toiling through the salty dust.

There was no halting for dinner. Now and then we ate the corn bread, for with such terrible anxiety in our hearts none of us were conscious of hunger; but again and again and again did we sip the cold coffee, using it sparingly, however.

SALT DUST

It was nearly ten o'clock in the forenoon when a dark cloud began to gather in the south, and I said to mother, with great joy, that we would at least know the pleasure of being wet, even though we could not get all we wanted to drink, for surely there was a shower close upon us.

Indeed, we did have wind, with thunder and lightning, but not a drop of water fell. On the contrary, the breeze stirred up the dust from the plain and filled the air with it, and our parched throats grew yet more dry because of the salt which we were forced to inhale, even though we covered our faces with cloths.

How the poor beasts suffered! Their tongues were actually covered with salt, and not a mouthful of water could they have as a relief from their distress.

Save for the absence of rain, it was a veritable tempest of thunder and lightning, lasting about twenty minutes; then the sun came out with more heat, as it seemed to me, than before, which but served to increase our desire for water.

When the sun was no more than three hours from setting, I strained my eyes ahead, hoping to see the end of this horrible journey, although mother had told me there was no possibility of our coming to water until late in the night, and I saw the foremost of the wagons leaving the white plain, and passing over what promised to be a good road, toward a rocky range.

Then I shouted aloud in my joy, that we would soon come to where it would be possible to quench our thirst.

A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT

For the moment mother believed I was right, but then Eben Jordan dampened our joy by telling us that we must ride over the ridge five or six miles, where were no signs of water, and then we would come upon another plain of salt, which was not less than twelve miles in width. Only after that had been crossed might we find ourselves in safety.

Ellen threw herself face downward upon the bed in the bottom of the wagon, and lay there as if in a fit of the sulks, while I crouched by mother's side, wondering how long it would be before death came, for I had grown so foolish in my sufferings that it was as if life was nearly at an end.

COFFEE INSTEAD OF WATER

Mother left us to ourselves during half an hour or more, and then told us plainly that we were showing ourselves to be very foolish girls. She insisted that we eat the harder portions of the corn bread; that we take frequent drinks of the coffee, and, above all, that we resolutely calm our minds.

It must have been that amid all my distress I fell asleep, for suddenly I heard, as though coming from afar off, shouts of joy and the voices of men calling one to another.

Starting up, I asked mother what was happening, and gazed around wildly, for night had come and the moon was not yet risen.

"Thank God! the desert has been crossed, and we have come at last to where water may be obtained!" my mother cried fervently.

She leaped out of the wagon, we two girls following, and, running hurriedly, we went to where the men, boys, and animals had gathered in a group.

I believed we had come to a stream of sweet water, but it was only a narrow brook, where ran hardly more than a thread of water which had already been trampled upon by the animals until it was like liquid mud.

A SPRING OF SWEET WATER

At this moment Eben Jordan, taking Ellen and me by the hands, said, forcing us to run with him: —

"By following the stream to its head we shall surely come upon a spring."

And this we did, finding within two hundred yards a spring of the sweetest water I have ever taken into my mouth.

Ellen and I drank again and again, seemingly never to be satisfied, and it was only after I had shown myself very selfish that I remembered poor mother, who, most likely, was standing by that muddy stream waiting until the water had grown clear so she might drink.

Then Eben Jordan went back, and a few moments later returned, bringing with him all the women and children, and many of the men.

Having drunk our fill, Ellen and I went back to the wagon, where we ate heartily of corn bread, and then laid ourselves down to sleep, while the men and boys were bringing the teams into a circle to form a corral.

THE OASIS

After this we remained idle thirty-six hours, being forced to do so, as father said, because the animals were so nearly exhausted that a long time of rest was absolutely necessary.

It was during this time that Eben Jordan again displayed his skill as a hunter, for toward nightfall he brought in two small antelopes; but the animals were so tiny that each family had no more than half enough to satisfy their craving for fresh meat, and we were forced to complete the meal with bacon.

Our halting place was on what can be described only as an oasis, stretching from that sea of white to the rocky cliffs beyond, and father told us that while we would not be forced to march over a plain of salt during the next day, the journey would be exceedingly wearisome and our suffering considerable, for another entire day must be spent without water.

Again we made preparations for a time of distress, by boiling more coffee and filling up the water casks with sweet water from the spring.

This time the anticipation was worse than the reality. On resuming the march, we traveled over the side of the barren ridge more than twelve miles, until we came to a well-defined wagon trail which, so some of our people said, had first been made by emigrants from Missouri.

I gave little heed as to who might first have passed over the trail, rejoicing with Ellen that at last we had come to some evidence of human beings; it seemed as if our troubles were well-nigh at an end, for we were told that this trail would lead us by the most direct course into that land of California where we hoped to find rest and comfort.