Etext of A Diary of E.F. Beadle 
by E.F. Beadle 
1857  

Contents
1- Leaving Home. To the Ohio River--March 9-12, 1857.  
2 - Sons of Dixie. To St. Louis--March 13-20. 
3- Big Muddy. On the Missouri River--March 21-27. 
4 - Stagecoach. To Council Bluffs, Iowa--March 28-30.
5 - Welcome to Omaha. Omaha, Nebraska--March 31-April 9.
6 - Pawnees & Claim Jumpers. Omaha, Nebraska--April 10-24.
7 - "Gloomy, Lonesome Day" Omaha, Nebraska--April 25-30.
8 - "Such Business Will Pay" Omaha, Nebraska--May 1-9.
9 - Corax. Omaha, Nebraska--May 10-16.
10 - Saratoga. Omaha, Nebraska--May 17-25.
11 - A Lady. Omaha, Nebraska--May 26-June 9.
12 - The Weary Bachelor. Omaha, Nebraska--June 10-25.
13 - Dick Darling. Omaha, Nebraska--June 26-July 9.
14 - Frontier Politics. Omaha, Nebraska--July 10-29.
15 - Rock Brook Farm. Omaha, Nebraska--July 30-August 5.
16 - Waiting. Omaha, Nebraska--August 6-20.
17 - Homeward. Omaha, Nebraska to Cooperstown, New
York--August 21-September 30.
18 - What Next?. Cooperstown, New York--October 1.

1 - Leaving Home To the Ohio River-March 9-12, 1857. 

I asked him if he was not going to bid me goodbye? "Oh yes!" he
says, and the words he would have uttered in addition choked in
his throat. He kissed me, and when I had got a few feet from the
sleigh he said "Good-bye Pa!" with a force to it I could but notice
as coming from a full heart.

Monday, March 9, 1857

Left home with the intention of being absent longer than any
previous trip I had ever taken from my own fireside. Still, I had
none of those feelings which usually possess me at parting with my
nearest and dearest of friends and relatives. I had no realizing
sense of any protracted absence more than I would feel on going to
my daily business. 

Days previous to my departure, however, were days of deep
thought and reflection. The simplest acts of my children were
unusually interesting to me and remarks that at any other time I
would barely notice would make my heart swell and tears start
unbidden in my eyes. But when the day for my departure arrived, I
was suffering with bodily ills of a more serious nature than I was
willing to own, and my mind was wholly occupied with those ills,
which were at the time painful in the extreme. 

With as little ceremony as possible, I bid goodbye to my family
and rode down to the depot chatting by the way with Irwin who
"wanted to ride down with father." He was so taken up with his
ride [that] he was not inclined to get out of the sleigh, and when I
had bought my ticket and looked around to bid him goodbye, he
was not to be found. He had remained in the sleigh, where I found
him bundled up, playing the owner of the sleigh, as large as any
one. I asked him if he was not going to bid me goodbye? "Oh yes!"
he says, and the words he would have uttered in addition choked in
his throat. He kissed me, and when I had got a few feet from the
sleigh he said "Good-bye Pa!" with a force to it I could but notice
as coming from a full heart.

Only a short time was occupied in reaching and crossing the ferry
at Black Rock and getting under way on the Canada Side. The
excitement of changing at Black Rock from cars to boat and boat
to cars, had the effect to exhaust me considerable. For me at least,
we were fortunate in having but few passengers. I monopolized
two whole seats near the stove and slept some before we reached
Paris. At Paris we made the connection with the Great Western
Cars. By the time we had reached London I began to regret my
having left home in the condition I did. Continued to get sicker
until about four o'clock p. m., when my feelings changed as if by
magic, and I felt like a new being, ate a hearty supper on the boat
crossing from Windsor to Detroit, and except from weakness and
lassitude felt as well as I ever did in my life.

At Detroit called on Mr. Frazer who gave me a pass to Michigan
City. Got a seat in the cars near the stove. Left at 9:20 and slept
some of the way to Marshal.

Tuesday, March 10 

Walked from the Depot up to the Marshal House and went to bed a
three o'clock a. m. Slept but little, at seven breakfasted and soon
after got a buggy from the livery to take me up four miles on the
plank. Had a pleasant but cold ride, found cousin's family all well. 

Cousin Joel Mack has a fine farm of 160 acres, a good large frame
house, and is very comfortably situated. [He] has a family of six
children, the two oldest boys who are married and living away by
themselves, the two next daughters-one 20 the other 16 years of
age-a boy 13, and the baby, a girl of five years completes his list of
children. His daughter of 16 is the largest of the children is a
perfect picture of My Sister Sybil when I last saw her, and the baby
is just another such a person as was Sister Emily at her age. The
more I saw them the more I saw a resemblance both in looks and
actions, but I do not believe Abigail (the one resembling Sybil)
will live long; she has a hard cough which I believe will prove
fatal. 

My stay at Cousin Joel's was a pleasant one. Cousin is a great
speller and grammarian; [he] is a boy with his children and joins in
their studies. His Wife is just such a farmer's wife as others I have
seen.

The most interesting member of the family, however, was Aunt
Abigail. In most respects she bears her eighty-five winters
remarkably well. In walking she uses a cane and stands in a
stooping position exactly as does Mrs. Hedge. She will weigh
about 175 lbs., her weight in health was 200. She some resembles
Uncle Chauncy in feature, but she has the eyes and nose of my
father. 

I spent the day wholly with her, most agreeably and instructive.
She would ask me many questions about my Uncles and Aunts,
and in a few hours ask much the same questions. Then she would
remember she had asked before and received the same answer.
When I informed her that all her Mother's and first stepmother's
children were dead, she would remark with tears and a trembling
voice "Yes they are all gone not one of my old acquaintance is
living. All are in their graves and why am I left? Yes, and I have
buried two husbands and eight of my ten children." 

She could not speak of the past without tears, not even of the days
when she was a little girl and went to the village school of
Colchester, Connecticut, which was about a half mile from her
father's house and shop. When she spoke of the death of her first
stepmother she wept like a child. She was the only Mother she
ever knew and was one of the best of Mothers to her. 

"A few days before she died," says Aunt, "She nursed Flavel (then
but ten months old), kissed him and handed him to me and said
she should never nurse him again-gave him to me as my child and
said I must have him sleep with me and be kind and good to him,
for he never would know what it was to have a Mother to care for
him-and I always felt he was my child." When Aunt told this she
would manifest as much grief as she could have done the day her
Mother died. Her grief was monitory as that of a child.

Her bodily health and appetite is as good as it ever was and she can
eat as wholesome food. She is but very little care, occupies her
own corner with her own chair and table she used when young,
eats by herself and lives within herself, reads but little except her
Bible-that is her all. She read over the old family record of uncle
James a number of times and expressed no little surprise she
should have remembered her own age. She was pleased to have me
ask her for her daguerreotype, but said she had no money to get it
taken with but would go up and sit for it-had never had one taken.

Wednesday, March 11

Slept comfortably last night, and for the first time in years between
woolen sheets in the regular old-fashioned style. After a late
breakfast Cousin harnessed to a cutter. We helped Aunt in and
started for Marshal. Cousin was the first settler where he now
lives; his team made the first wagon track where now the plank
road runs. The vicinity is thickly settled with wealthy farmers and
fine farm buildings.

Aunt bore her ride well walked up and down stairs without
assistance. The artist who took her picture does not understand his
business and made a picture I did not fancy. If Mr. Evans had had
such a subject he would have done it justice, but a poor operator, a
poor subject, poor tools, poor stock altogether-what more could be
expected?

When all was ready to start, Aunt comfortably seated in the sleigh,
she took hold of me to bid me goodbye and thank me for having
her picture taken. She said, "When you write to your mother and
your wife and children, remember me with love to them,
remember me to my brothers and sisters living-and Erastus,
remember your Creator!" Aunt has been a very intelligent woman
for her time or for the times in which she has lived. I wish I could
be where she was a month.

Leaving the daguerrean room, I went to the depot, learned that the
cars had run off the track and were three hours behind time. Did
not get away until 6:00 p. m. and reached Michigan City at a little
past 11:00 the same night-but 20 minutes too late, for the cars
[were gone]. The next train was to leave the next day at 10:00 a.
m. I accordingly went to the Jewell house and to bed.

On leaving Marshall, a novelty presented itself, in the form of a
little boy about Irwin's age and height, but more chubby. He
followed the business of making speeches on the cars and then
passing around his hat. He understood the business to perfection.
When he first commenced his hat off and his hair brussled up, I
thought him crazy-but soon discovered my mistake. He had a
powerful voice and could control it like an orator. Everyone could
hear him in the car-and the speed was 30 miles an hour. A new
way to raise the wind.

Thursday, March 12

A clear and stinging cold morning. Time hanging heavily, I walked
out to see the town as soon as the sun was up sufficiently to warm
the atmosphere. Michigan City is in Indiana, on the shore of Lake
Michigan. [It] is the Junction of the new Albany and Salem R.
R.-is a fine place for a town, but can never amount to much as a
city. 

It is somewhat protected from the winds of the lake by very high
bluffs rising near two or three hundred feet. These bluffs have
some shrubbery and scattering oaks, and [are] covered with sand
from the lake, which is thrown up in drifts by the high and almost
constant blowing wind. The present covering of the bluffs is
composed of about equal parts of snow and sand, and this morning
was froze as hard as ice. Still I succeeded in reaching the top of the
highest bluff by pulling myself up by the shrubs and crawling on
my hands and knees in real Mount Blanc style. From the top of the
bluff I could see for one hundred miles in all directions and could
easily imagine myself one of the daring adventurers of Mt. Blanc
itself, on a small scale.

The time passed as easily as I could expect and at 10:10 a. m. I left
on the cars in a direct South course. For the first ninety miles the
country was mostly prairie-and wet at that-and the most
untractable country I ever saw. It is a "Hoosier" state in earnest.
The buildings were nothing but the poorest kind of log huts, and
unless you saw some human animals you would not think they
were inhabited. All they raise is corn and pork. This also
constitutes their sole diet, spiced with the "shakes" without which
they think they could not live. They make as much calculations
about having the shakes fall and spring as they do to have the
seasons themselves come and go. In fact they could not live if they
did not have the shakes half the time. Whole fields of corn were
only cut up and stood out all winter, on account of the shakes
taking them too soon in many places [while] they were drawing in
their corn.

Near many of the log huts, some of which were deserted, I noticed
small enclosures formed by driving short stakes in the ground a
few inches apart, and but two or three feet high. These varied in
size from ten to one hundred feet square. Internally they presented
no different appearance from the immediate vicinity, which
convinced me they were not gardens. On inquiry, I was told they
were graveyards-many of which contained whole families. These
yards were usually [with]in a few rods of the house, and in many
locations were the only show of improvement or civilization.

Every hour's progress we made, we could see we was fast leaving
the vicinity of snow, and when we reached Lafayette at 3:30 p. m.,
there was but very little snow to be seen. About 2:00 o'clock we
saw blackbirds and meadowlarks, and soon after leaving Lafayette
large flocks of prairie hens.

At 7:00 p. m. we reached Indianapolis, where we were obliged to
wait until 11:00 p. m. before starting for Cincinnati. This evening
was a delightful one-not cold enough to require winter
overcoats-and seemed like an April night at home.

 2 - Sons of Dixie

To St. Louis-March 13-20.

They think no more of shooting at each other than the people
North do of taking a round with the fist.

 Friday, March 13

Reached Cincinnati [at] five o'clock this morning and put up at the
"Burett House." Had an early breakfast, made a schedule of my
business for the day, and at nine o'clock had all my business that
called me to Cincinnati done. Got my boots by express from
Buffalo; found them too large by two or three sizes, so I am almost
bootless.

[At] nine o'clock, commenced searching for James Pennington.
Searched all day, but without success. A marked change in the
atmosphere between this place and where I was yesterday
morning. There was good sleighing and the thermometer near
zero; here they were watering broadway to keep down dust.

Cincinnati at this season of the year is remarkably brisk. The
principal exports I saw was whiskey, pork, and ready made
buildings-which is a great business here. The levee is literally
crowded with boxes, barrels, carts, drays, &c, and every steamer
crowding on freight. Altogether it is the busiest place I ever saw.

At five o'clock p. m., took passage on board the steam packet
Memphis, bound for Memphis and Hickman, Tennessee. The
officers of the boat protested against the large amount of freight
the proprietors put on, as there was but a little over five feet water
on the bars and the boat was loaded down to a draught of near
seven feet. In this state we left at ten o'clock at night, soon after I
had retired.

Saturday, March 14

Had made good headway during the night, but about ten o'clock a.
m., when within 20 miles of Louisville, we grounded and remained
there until ten at night. Could only get off by getting two flat boats
and taking out some one hundred ton to lighten her. These flat
boats are kept along the river for this purpose and are called
lighters. The bed of the Ohio is hard gravel and a boat can not
work off as on the sandbars of the Missouri.

We have a variety of passengers, some fifty in all, mostly
Southerners. They all take me for a Southerner. We have a
"Nigger" trader on board.

Sunday, March 15

A delightful day. More like the middle of May in Buffalo than the
15th of March. It has been a day of anxious watching for Captain,
crew, and passengers, as the barge from Cincinnati has been hourly
expected but has failed to reach us. I have walked over the
principal parts of the city in company with a young man from
Philadelphia. Louisville, like Cincinnati, presents a very dingy
appearance owing to burning so much coal. The streets are wide
and well supplied with shade trees-which are much needed in the
summer[s], which are very warm here. Towards evening we
walked up in the vicinity of the best residence, which was quite a
treat to me. Doors and windows were thrown open, and ladies
were out on the steps and balconies with nothing on their heads,
and dressed in late spring dresses. It was in great contrast with the
previous Sunday in Buffalo, which was like mild winter.

We saw during the day a number of funerals. The hearses in use
here are glazed on both sides and ends, rendering the coffin wholly
visible. The hearse is painted black and trimmed with silver on the
sides. The top is ornamented with four clusters of Prince of Wales
plumes on each side. It is altogether quite a showy vehicle and is
used for the poor classes as well as the rich.

Louisville has a large number of colored people, about 3000 of
which are slaves. They are probably cared better for than any city
in the Union.

Monday, March 16

Last evening was very pleasantly spent in the cabin. We have a
large number of passengers, mostly Southerners, a fair proportion
of Ladies-all of which could sing and play on the piano. We had a
sociable time. Those of us that were married showed the
daguerreotypes of our wives and children. I took the premium.
They said they look like Northerners, supposing I was a
Southerner. They said they were "right fine" looking and a "heap
prettier" than I was. I knew they only wanted to flatter me and took
it for what it was worth.

An affray took place in the forward cabin on Saturday night that
came near resulting in the loss of life. The parties were from
Mississippi, were engage[d] in card playing until a late hour and
drinking freely-used their revolvers and bowie knives. They think
no more of shooting at each other than the people North do of
taking a round with the fist.

I got acquainted with a number of gentlemen from the South, some
merchants, others professional men. They were extremely warm
hearted. They consider the use of the revolver as honorable a way
of settling a dispute or punishing an insult as any plan that can be
adopted. The strong man has not there the advantage. It is their
education and they succeed in making out quite a case in their
favor.

On going to bed last evening we were in hopes to be on our way
again before morning, as the barge was still expected. Morning
came, however, and we were still at the levee in Louisville. My
patience was exhausted. This was the day we was to have been in
Memphis, and now the Captain told us it would take three to four
days after the barge came to get to Memphis. I went up town after
breakfast and found I could take the cars to St. Louis one dollar
less than at Cincinnati. I returned to the boat and the Captain
refunded all of my passage money except $2.50, so that it cost me
only $1.50 extra to go by Louisville. Many of the passengers left
the boat as I did, while others remained. I should have remained if
I could have spared the time, as I never was on a steamer where
they lived as well as they did on the Memphis. The boat is noted
for the table it sets.

At Noon there was no news from the barge. The R. R. omnibus
called at the boat for me, took me to the ferry, thence to the depot
of the New Albany and Salem R. R., and at 1:50 p. m. we left.
Reached Greencastle behind time, but the cars waited five minutes
enabling us to get aboard. Changed cars again at Terre Haute and
Vincennes.

Tuesday, March 17

From Vincennes reached Sandoval about eight o'clock a. m. Found
no cars to Centralia until one in the afternoon. I accordingly
checked my baggage to Centralia and started on foot, the distance
six miles. I found it a very pleasant walk indeed. Most of the way
was prairie. One grove, however, of about one mile was a pleasant
variety. It was filled with birds, which made me halt a number of
times to listen to the variety of noises they made. Among the
number was a mockingbird and the cardinal grosbeak or
redbird-neither of them get as far north as New York. I have seen
no robins yet.

I came in sight of Centralia when about two miles distant from the
town. My imagination located Harriet's residence and all of the
particulars. I had it in the southeast part of the village on the open
prairie, without a yard fence or any thing of the kind. When near
enough to distinguish the buildings, I selected one, a
story-and-a-half white house with two conspicuous side windows
visible one-and-a-half miles off. "That is the place," I remarked
aloud and laughed heartily all to myself. I plodded on into the
heart of the town, at the depot I inquired where Hugh Baily lived.
Was informed that it was in the "Company's Row," a little east.
Next, inquired at a store and was pointed out the very house I had
selected on first coming in sight of the town. I shall have to believe
in Spiritualism, I think, after this. 

Entered Harriet's house as familiar as though I belonged there, and
without knocking. I believe she jumped some and seemed pleased
to see me. They are living as comfortable as can be, considering
the house is not finished. Baily soon came in to dinner and was
heartily glad to see me. I left with him at two o'clock and rode on
his engine down to Cairo, got there at 8 p. m. Tried to get passage
to Memphis, but found the fare $10. I backed out sudden-supposed
it but $8. Got into the mud up to my knees. Went with Mr. Baily to
bed.

Wednesday, March 18

Left Cairo on my return with Mr. Baily at 6 a. m.; reached
Centralia at noon. Set by the fire, visited and played with the baby
during the balance of the day.

Thursday, March 19

A warm and pleasant day. Baily drawed fence lumber and had his
garden ploughed. I walked about the town. Wrote and slept some
and got well rested. Centralia is more of a town than I expected to
find, has some 1500 population. 

Harriet has a fine baby as any one has. Its hair is red and I believe
always will be. It has a bad cold and I fear threatened with the
croup. Mr. Baily and Hat. would not hear to my leaving under a
week at least, and seemed dissatisfied when I decided to leave the
next day. I fared sumptuously. Had a pressing invitation to have
my family come out and stop a month-or even three of three of
them-before going West.

Friday, March 20

Left Centralia half past twelve at night. Hat. set up and had a
breakfast ready for me and Mr. Baily, as he had to go out to Cairo
again at two o'clock. Left the baby very poorly.

Harriet keeps a girl, a big dog, and hens. I think if any one takes
comfort it is them. They are loving as two kittens.

We reached St. Louis between five and six in the morning. At the
Barnum House I found a letter from Frank and Robert Adams, but
very much to my surprise not a line from wife or children. After
breakfast went down to the boats. No boats were going further up
than St. Joseph. Ice reported 30 inches thick at Omaha and teams
crossing.

This presented a dubious aspect. I had hurried to get away, and
hurried all the way, and here I am two weeks too early. This gave
me the blues a little, and I knew not what course to pursue. In this
dilemma I went in search of my cousin. Found two brothers of
Cousin Benjamin. They were Alfred and James H. The former has
a wife and nine children. James has a wife but has lost all his
children. He is two years younger than I am. Took dinner and went
up to supper and spent a short time in the evening.

Returning to my hotel, I had decided to go back to Harriet's and
stop a week or ten days, until the ice was out of the river and I
could get a passage to Omaha. With this determination I went to
bed.

 3 - Big Muddy

On the Missouri River-March 21-27.

Then came a general strife to see who should have a bed. About
one half were accommodated. Some had a mattress, some a
pillow, others a blanket. Covering about two thirds of cabin floor,
one would laugh, another sing, a third curse. Those that could get
no chance to sleep done all they could to prevent others from
sleeping, and kicked up a general uproar . . . I have often heard
people tell of a crowd, but this beat all.

 Saturday, March 21

Arose early, examined the register of arrivals and found the name
of G. W. Brown of Lawrence. He had come in the afternoon
previous from Chicago, but was not yet up. I took breakfast and
then went to his room. And our meeting was decidedly a joyous
[occasion] to both. He insisted on my going to Lawrence with him,
and make his house my home until I could take passage up the
river. His wife would be in from Alton in time to go out with us. I
accordingly abandoned going back to Harriet's, and set about
making preparations to accompany Mr. Brown into Kansas. At 2 p.
m., we left in the cars for Jefferson City, where we were to meet
the R. R. Company's daily line of steamers for Weston and
intermediate points-our tickets taking us through.

Our party from St. Louis consisted of Mr. Brown and his wife, a
Mrs. Leavett and her two daughters ten and six years of age. We
had a very pleasant time on the cars. Mr. Brown fathered one of
Mrs. L.'s children and I took Mrs. Brown under my care. 

Mrs. Leavett and family were among the number that were driven
out of Leavenworth last summer, and lost all they had. They are
now located in Wyandot, where Mr. Leavett now is. Mrs. L. is
going out to join him. Mrs. Leavett is one of the firebrands of the
free-states party. Her tongue is constantly busy. She has been east
making speeches and getting subscribers for Mr. Brown's paper.
She had become desperate, and if necessity requires it, she will
take up the musket and revolver before she will be again driven
from her home. She is ready for an argument with anyone, even on
spiritualism. 

Mrs. Brown is more [a] quiet woman and looks like a person that
has been tried, as she has been.

We were informed at St. Louis that the two boats were usually
crowded, so that when the whistle blew at Jefferson City, every
person had their carpet sack in hand to make a spring for the boat
when the cars should stop. And when they did stop, down they
went in a mass like a flock of sheep, tumbling over each other in
the dark (it was eight o'clock at night). But lo and behold, not a
berth, stool, or plank was unoccupied. The daily boats due were
aground up the river, and the one in-the New Lucy-had been
damaged and could not leave until the next day in the afternoon
when her damages would probably be repaired. No boat had been
in for three days that belonged to the line, and two trains of cars
per day, loaded as thick as they could stand, had poured into the
city, and as soon as the New Lucy reached her landing, she was
swarmed and every room taken. Our chances were to hang up on a
hook. 

Finding the Captain, he proved to be no less a person than the Pilot
of the Wm. Campbell, the boat I came down on last fall. He
recognized me at once and fixed out two rooms, which were given
up to the ladies and Mr. Brown. Next in order, Mr. Brown and
myself went up town to get supper. Not having dinner we felt the
want of supper. We set down to a table, that was about all. Got a
cup of cold coffee, a small biscuit, one cracker, and that was all.
Charges only 50 cents each. 

Returning to the boat, Mr. Brown made a misstep and tumbled into
a gulf about five feet deep with a mud bottom Tore his clothes
some and hurt him a little-but not sufficient to prevent us from
laughing heartily. We scraped mud for some time, then he
ventured on the boat. I walked in front to screen him from too
conspicuous a view. When reaching the ladies' cabin we quickened
our pace again. Mr. Brown met with a casualty. Run his head
against one of the branches of the chandelier; knocked off the
globe, smashing it in a thousand pieces. Every eye was turned in
the direction. There he stood, watching the fragments and covered
with mud. A more ludicrous scene I have seldom beheld, and if he
had killed himself, I could not help but laugh. He got into his room
and there remained for the night.

About this time, the porters commenced turning down the chairs
along the stateroom doors, completely blocking up the entrance or
exits through the door. This being done, they brought in a lot of
mattresses, arranging them along one end, on the chair backs, to
serve as a pillow. I took the hint and made fast to one.

Then came a general strife to see who should have a bed. About
one half were accommodated. Some had a mattress, some a
pillow, others a blanket. Covering about two thirds of cabin floor,
one would laugh, another sing, a third curse. Those that could get
no chance to sleep done all they could to prevent others from
sleeping, and kicked up a general uproar until they got exhausted
and we at last got to sleep. I was sore from laughing at the vanity
of disposition; one was for fun, another kept up a constant growl.
Those, however, who said least, fared best. I have often heard
people tell of a crowd, but this beat all.

Sunday, March 22

This morning another amusing scene was enacted which will
probably be repeated three times per day during the trip. There are
three hundred passengers on board and only table room for some
seventy-five. Who was to be first at table was the all-engrossing
subject as soon as preparations were commenced for breakfast. It
was with difficulty that the waiters could get around to put the
dishes on the tables. 

I saw at once that those without ladies must of necessity fare slim.
I accordingly secured Mrs. Leavett for meal times, which was very
fortunate. The table had to be cleared and set again four times
before all the passengers were served. The fare is of the poorest
kind I ever saw on a steamboat, even at the first tables. Females
were in great demand at meal times, even little girls that went free
were engaged for the trip in order to secure a seat at the first table.
We have two large and very amusing men by the name of
Martin-from Flint, Michigan-who are brothers. They take girls of
11 and 9 years to the table as their ladies. 

We are all becoming acquainted and are anticipating a pleasant
time. On showing my daguerreotypes, Mr. Martin recollected
seeing Mate somewhere. It was at Flint. This is how I became
acquainted with him. He knows Lib. and Cook. He says Mrs. Cook
is one of the finest women in Flint, and has the most friends of
anyone in the city, and that I ought to be proud of her sister for a
wife.

Mr. Brown and myself have had a stroll about the city. The town
does not amount to much except as the capital of Missouri. Our
boat was repaired about Noon, but we were obliged to wait until
the three o'clock cars came in, as one of the pilots had gone down
to St. Louis. Our steam was up, ready to start as soon as the pilot
should come on board, so as to prevent the rush of passengers from
the train. They came, however, like an avalanche-covering our
forecastle as thick as they could stand. They were ordered off on
another boat of the same line going out the next day. Among the
crowd of newcomers I saw and spoke with three Buffalo men:
Lawyer Grey, Mr. Metz, and a young man whom I cannot call by
name-was once a clerk at Calendar's.

During the day I have made the acquaintance of a Mr. Smith, who
together with his wife is going to Omaha to establish themselves in
business. He is a small man, about the size of Mr. Cook and of the
same business. His wife is a very tall woman-reminds me of Mrs.
Newman. She is a graduate of some of our eastern seminaries, and
has herself been for a term of years a principal. She hopes to be
enabled to establish an institution of learning at Omaha. I think she
would be just the woman for such an enterprise. I shall use my
influence. I should be ready then to take my family to Omaha.

On the arrival of the cars which brought up our pilot, this Mr.
Smith went up to look after some baggage which came on the
train. He succeeded in getting the baggage nearly to the boat when
it put out and would not return. You may imagine the feelings of
his wife, who was obliged to remain on this boat while her
husband must stop over a day and come on the next boat. There
are a number on this boat going to Omaha, some of which will
stop with her at Weston until her husband arrives.

Some seven miles above Jefferson City is the worst sand-bar on
the route, and as we expected or feared, we got fast on it in
company with other boats. Some had been there 48 hours-this was
not a very pleasant prospect for us. We made the best of it,
however, and concluded to sleep on it. 

This night I succeeded in getting a state room in company with Mr.
Carver of Buffalo. (He is the man with whom Desdimona
boarded.) He had a room for himself and his two sons. His two
sons slept together, giving me a berth to myself, which I
appreciate. I could not retire until I had seen the sport in the main
cabin of staking or marking out claims and securing a place to
straighten out in for the night. 

This evening we had a fine thundershower.

Monday, March 23

Early this morning one of the steamers on the bar, the Star of the
West, got off and passed up. Soon after this the Col. Crossman,
which left St. Louis the day before we did- and which we passed
on the cars-came up and crossed the bar without difficulty,
cheering loudly as they passed us. The Crossman stopped a while
up to wood. In the meantime, we came up alongside of them to
wood also. In swinging around, we came in collision with the
Crossman and smashed in our wheelhouse on the same side the
previous injury was sustained. Again we were disabled, and when
the Crossman left, we lashed to the shore for repairs, where we
remained in an uneasy state of anxiety until after eight o'clock at
night.

The early part of the day was rainy. The afternoon was dry and
pleasant, the scenery on the shore grand. Mr. Brown and myself
invited some ladies to attempt to gain the top of a rock which we
had been admiring all the day. It is by far the loftiest rock I have
yet seen. It towered far above the loftiest trees. On the side next
river it was perpendicular over 200 feet high, and scalloped out
like a chimney, and for want of a better name we called it
"Chimney Rock." We ascended by climbing up the bank, which in
the rear of the rock extended to within 50 feet of the top. We then
got up one at a time to a secure foothold and pulled the others after
us.

Reaching the top we gave three cheers for free Kansas. Fifty
persons could stand upon the top of the rock; our company
consisted of eight or ten. I did not venture to look off at the brink
as others did-at first I was too timid to stand erect. We gathered
some moss as relics and carved our names in the rock and on the
limbs of trees along the side of the path by which we ascended.
We all agreed that our visit to the top of "Chimney Rock" had well
paid us for the delay we were subjected to by the accident to our
boat.

When I took the cars at Sandoval on Friday morning at one
o'clock, every seat was occupied. Noticing a gentleman whose
countenance pleased me, I asked and received a share of his seat.
We conversed most of the way to St Louis. His manner of speaking
was exceedingly pleasant and he bore a striking resemblance to
Uncle Chauncy, except he was not corpulent. His height is six feet
six inches, and he is one of the noblest looking men I ever saw. He
was an old resident of Missouri. I was exceedingly loath to part
with him as I did at the ferry opposite St. Louis, and equally
pleased to meet him again at "The Barnum House." 

In the afternoon of the same day I again met him on the levee as he
was about to take the cars for Jefferson City en route home. We
parted here as old friends, neither knowing the other's name. On
Sunday morning at Jefferson City we again met. He had been
waiting for the boat to be repaired. We stoping in the city with his
daughter, was going up on the same boat, had with him a niece and
a little slave he was taking up to a friend and neighbor of his.

I think I have never met with a man that pleased me as well. I also
think I have learned much that will be of service to me in the way
of business in the West. My friend's name is Samuel C. Major-is
one of the wealthy and most prominent men of Missouri.

This evening Mr. Major and myself were called upon by the ladies,
who had held a meeting and voted to invite the Captain and Clerk
to visit them in the ladies' cabin, with a deposition from said ladies
to transmit the vote to the Captain-which we did, feeling flattered
by the compliment, and reported favorable. This involved the
necessity of an introduction, which could only be done in general
terms as we were not acquainted with but few of the ladies on
board, by name. The evening passed pleasantly, with another
thunder shower to close the day. 

At nine o'clock a dive was made for the mattress, claims taken, and
in the general melee, in which some got kick and scratches, we
went to bed. Our friend was obliged to stretch his six feet six on
the cabin floor. Something he was not used to.

Tuesday, March 24

But little progress made during the night. My friend Major pointed
out the burial place of Daniel Boone and told me that his niece on
the boat was a great-granddaughter of Daniel Boone. As yet I had
not spoken with her. I asked an introduction, which was given with
an apology that it had not been done before. I considered it a great
treat to be in conversation with a direct descendent of the "old
Hunter of Kentucky." Miss Boone is a woman of intelligence and
education of a high order, born and brought up in Missouri. 

She seems to inherit a large share of that love for the wildness of
nature that characterized her Grandsire. She had learned from her
Uncle that I was from the state of New York. She asked me many
questions about the scenery of N. Y., particularly that of Niagara,
St Lawrence, Lake George, the Hudson, and the scenery described
by Cooper. She had only visited the part of Kentucky where her
Great-Grandfather lived, and a small portion of Tennessee. She
could talk of wild scenery different from any one I ever conversed
with. And I regret I did not make her acquaintance earlier. She and
her Uncle left the boat this morning at eleven. On leaving the boat
they bade me a friendly goodbye, wishing me a pleasant journey
and asking to be remembered to my wife and children, whose
likeness they saw.

The water in the river has been rising slowly to day and our
progress is rapid for Missouri traveling. Wild geese are in great
abundance, the shores and sandbars are covered by the thousands.
The air is becoming more chilly.

Wednesday, March 25

The water continues to rise in the river. We passed the Col.
Crossman about one o'clock this morning and are fast making up
for our delay in repairing the boat. About eight o'clock we came
upon a deer that was on a sandbar. He made quick steps in the
direction of the nearest timberland, taking to the water part of the
way.

After dinner we passed the Star of the West that passed us while
on the bar Monday morning. She left St. Louis three days in
advance of us. We are the fastest craft on the river and pass
everything afloat. About this time the porter came around ordering
those stopping at Kansas City to select their baggage. This was the
first intimation we had of our coming to the vicinity of our
separation. We had been jammed into our cabin like stagecoach
passengers and most of us had become acquainted, and I presume
our separation was much as it is on shipboard after a long and
perilous voyage. 

Our passengers were from all parts of the Union, but mostly from
Western New York. Among our passengers was an officer of the
steam ship Baltic who had been on her every trip since she was
built. He is so taken up with our Western country he has almost
determined to locate here. He had no idea such people went to
Kansas. 

Mr. Brown hired two printers and one young lady to go and work
for him at Lawrence. He made me liberal offers. I told him I must
first try Omaha. He would pay me my price if I would go with him.
He is coining money-has 7000 subscribers. 

The greater part of our passengers were bound for Kansas and
mostly for Lawrence and vicinity. All of the Kansas emigrants they
charged extra on their baggage, weighing every piece. The
Nebraska passengers were allowed to go on with all they had a
mind to. I must say I think the best persons on the boat were
among the Nebraska passengers. 

We reached Kansas City, Mo. about eleven at night when we
parted with some 40 or 50 of our passengers. A few miles further
on is Wyandot where Mrs. Leavett's family and others got off. By
this time the favored ones got rooms for the balance of the night.

A blackleg traveling on the boat was a nuisance. He swindled
some two hundred dollars out of different persons that played with
him. One young man lost thirty dollars-all he had-and then offered
to pawn his watch. This was told to me, I did not see it-feeling
more at home in the ladies' cabin, I spent most of the time there.
During the evening, this blackleg insulted a man who was about
getting off. He called him to an account and challenged him to
shoot with him on the hurricane deck. Arrangements were being
made and I had made up my mind to see the thing done. I could
have seen the blackleg shot down with as good grace as I would
shoot a chicken if I was hungry. It would have been doing a
blessed service for the country. The friends of the rascal settled the
difficulty.

I have become acquainted with J. Johnson of the Johnson House,
N. Y. City. He is going to Omaha with a view of erecting a fine
hotel, if everything suits him. He is a fine man-none of your
swelling braggadocio, but a true gentleman. He will be a worthy
and useful acqui[sition] to Omaha should he take up his residence
there.

Thursday, March 26

The water still rising-is three feet higher than when we left
Jefferson City Sunday Night. Wild turkeys were seen running
along the banks on the Missouri side this morning.

A short time after breakfast, we reached Leavenworth City. The
levee was completely swarmed with people before we landed-so
much so that the two hundred passengers we landed did not seem
to enlarge the crowd in the least. Here I met my friend Kellum
from Auburn who went west when I was last at Auburn. His
company here [is] waiting for a through boat to continue on as far
as Omaha. I learned there were no accommodations at
Leavenworth or Lawrence, so I decided to work my way along and
get to Omaha the best way possible.

The clerk of our boat says that since the river has opened there has
12,000 people passed up in boats for Kansas and Nebraska, and as
many more by land. Every ferry we came to was crowded from
morning to night. Such a tide of emigration was never before
known. They are pouring in one continual stream to every town
and ferry on the east bank of the river and stand in large groups of
men, women, children, wagons, horses and oxen awaiting their
turn to cross into the promised land. They tell us they are only
pioneers and have but to write home favorable to bring parties of
from ten to twenty for every individual now entering the
Territories. They are covering the territories like a swarm of
locusts. The border-ruffian population of Missouri shake their
heads and heap curses upon the Yankees. "Their curses like little
chickens will come to roost." Missouri must and will ere long
become a free state.

Our stop at Leavenworth was but a few moments. We reached
Weston, the terminus of the "Lightning Line" at ten o'clock.
Stopped at the "St. George Hotel." The stage to St. Joseph had
gone; three extras were hired and filled while some twenty-five-
myself among the number-agreed to wait for a boat. The day spent
in writing and prospecting about the town. 

It is a mystery to me why a town was ever built on the site of
Weston. There is not a dozen houses in the place on a level with
each other. So uneven is the ground that houses on the same street
300 feet apart of equal size will vary fifty feet in height. During
rainstorms, the ground washes very bad so that the ravines can not
be bridged and deep gulfs are cut out by the rain to the level of the
river. No water runs in these gullies except during the
rainstorm-still they are impassable. The city reminds me of
pictures I have seen of towns in Switzerland.

Among the guests at the St. George was a gentleman and his wife
from [New] York state. Their respective ages were about 35 and
45 years. They belong to the better classes. They left their friends
in the east with buoyant hopes and light hearts for a "Home in
West." Their only child was a sprightly little girl, 22 months old-a
perfect little fairy. In this little being was centered the affection
and soul of its parents. She was their idol. No one but a parent can
tell how she was loved! On the boat she took sick, had a cold on
her lungs, got no relief. Took her from the boat to the hotel where
the little innocence lingered a few days and died. The day previous
to her death she put her arms around her mothers neck, clasping
with her whole strength her "dear mama," then smoothing her
cheek with her little feverish hand, kissed her mother a number of
times and bade her goodbye! Two days after this, they buried her
among strangers in a strange land. Oh! was not that heartrending? I
took the case home, I could but mingle my sympathizing tears with
theirs. Had it been one or both of my children, what would have
been my feelings? May I ever be spared such afflictions, but if
come they must, I pray for strength and fortitude for such a trial.

Previous to the burial, the corpse was dressed and placed in a
natural position as though alive in the father's arms, and an
ambrotype taken. It is the finest thing I ever saw. One not knowing
the facts would think the child was pretending to be asleep and
could with difficulty keep from laughing. 

Friday, March 27

Got up this morning as soon as it was light. Went up on the highest
bluff. Could see a steamer coming up nine miles down the river.
The boat proved to be the Star of the West which we had passed
two days previous. By the time we had breakfast she had reach the
landing. We took passage for St. Joseph, the boat going no farther
up than that point. The family who buried their child is on board.
The Mother seems almost heartbroken. She says her greatest trial
came when she left the hotel without her child.

On board the Star of the West we have much better fare than on
the Railroad line, and I would advise all persons coming West to
avoid said line. It is a humbug. The independent boats set a first
rate table, have enough, and are accommodating and gentlemanly.

Among the places we touched at was Atchison, the stronghold of
proslavery in Kansas. This is the residence of Stringfellow and is
one of the places we stopped at last fall during the Kansas
excitement. I bought a copy of the Squatter Sovereign, edited and
published by Stringfellow. The number I bought contained the
valedictory of Stringfellow, in which he stated that he had
published-at his own expense-the Squatter Sovereign for two years
"for the purpose of arousing the South to the importance of Kansas
as a territory peculiarly adapted to slave labor." . . . "did not
embark in the enterprise with a view of profit, but solely to prevent
Kansas from being Abolitionized." He resigns his labors to other
hands who will make the paper purely Democratic, sustaining the
law and order party and advocating the doctrines of the National
Democracy. The same paper contains an invitation to settlers from
all parts of the Union, North as well as South to come and make
homes among them. The entire tone of the paper is changed. The
only hope the proslavery party now have is to force through a
convention without submitting it to the people. This they do not
believe they can do.

The river is almost out of its banks and the current very rapid,
which makes our progress very slow. The scenery increases in
beauty as we ascend nearer to the Nebraska line. Many persons
who are on their first trip up the "Big Muddy" are in ecstasy about
the Country.

We reached St. Joseph about nine o'clock in the evening; found the
hotels filled and accommodations poor. The persons that came up
on the extras the day previous were in time to take the steamer
Admiral, bound for Omaha, which left this morning at ten o'clock.
We felt disappointed and very much regretted we had not followed
their example in taking an extra. Our only chance now is to take
the stage. We hurried to the office, three of us, but only two could
get seats. These were taken by a man from the Bluff and myself.
Our Cleveland friend decided to run his chances. Paid our fare and
[went] to bed dreading our stage ride the next day. Time by stage,
we were told, was 36 hours.

 4 - Stagecoach

To Council Bluffs, Iowa-March 28-30.

The prairie was on fire in all directions . . . Sometimes a gust of
wind would strike a section of the line of fire, increasing the flame
and hasting it along ahead of the main line, then continue along the
line in wavy motions like the undulations of the sea. 

 Saturday, March 28

During last night, the steamer Col. Crossman arrived, bringing
another supply of passengers for the Upper Missouri. There was at
least 100 passengers for the Bluffs and Omaha and only a nine
passenger coach to take them, running every other day. The stage
would take no baggage except a satchel a valise to each passenger.
We were obliged to leave our trunks in the storehouse to be sent up
on the first boat.

A little after eight we started at a snail pace up one bluff and down
another, tipping and pitching in all directions. One of our
passengers was a Mr. Jackson of the firm Foote & Jackson of the
Bluffs and Omaha. He did not reach St. Joseph until this morning
when all seats were taken. He bought off one of the passengers,
giving him ten dollars for his seat. The fare was ten dollars, so that
Mr. Jackson paid twenty dollars.

We found the roads much better than we anticipated, being dry
except in the hollows between bluffs. The day was as pleasant as
could be. Nothing of special interest transpired until about two
o'clock p. m. when the stage got set in a mud hole and the horses
down. We all had business now unfastening the horses while the
driver held them on his coach, and one man at each horse's head
until they were separately detatched and got out of the mud. Next
we took down the fence, got a chain and attached it to the tongue
of the coach, [and] hitched the horses to the chain-the horses in the
lot where they had good foothold. With rails [we] pried up the
coach so that horses drew it out safe on dry land. After an hour's
delay we were on the move.

At four o'clock we stopped to change horses at a place called
Oregon, where we ordered dinner. At this place I saw for the first
time handbills posted up advertising a sale of negroes. They were
the property of heirs and must be sold to settle up an estate. There
are but few slaves in this part of Missouri, and a better country I
never saw. It cannot be beat in the world. They raise fruit in great
abundance; we have all the apples we want, two for a penny. 

Ham, eggs, and corn cake constituted our bill of fare. This being
disposed of, we started on, footing down and up hills, which were
very steep. In one of these pedestrian excursions we came to a
large cornfield where the old stalks were standing. It was about
sundown. The cornfield was alive with wild geese and ducks that
were coming in to feed on young wheat that was just starting up,
and to roost. The ground was covered with them, and the air filled
with the others hovering over. The noise made by their wings and
their constant squawking was almost deafening and shook the
ground like distant thunder. Their number could not be estimated.
With suitable firearms or snares we could have filled the coach.
They did not seem at all timid. What a place for sporting.

Soon after dark, our driver stopped to water his horses. When he
started again, by some carelessness he brought the leaders around
so sudden as to break the tongue of the coach. Here was a "pretty
kettle of fish." We were fortunate in being opposite a farm house,
where a lumber wagon was procured with a view toward
continuing our journey. This proved to be small and we were
obliged to allow the driver to return with the two forward wheels
to Oregon and have a new tongue made. This, the driver assured
us, would be done so he could return by two o'clock next morning. 

We accordingly took possession of the farm house, which was
built in regular Missouri style, of hewed logs and double. Two
houses about fifteen feet square and twelve to fifteen feet apart,
with a roof extending from one to the other. One part was used for
cooking and eating, the chamber for the boys (negroes) to sleep in.
The other apartment was the family room containing two beds.
The room had a large fireplace and was the only sitting room. I
could not stand up in this room with my hat on. The chamber will
still lower. Into this living room we all huddle, eleven in number.

Our host is a clever bullet-headed Kentuckian-said he would make
us as comfortable as he could under the circumstances.
Preliminaries being arranged we all went upstairs, where four beds
were arranged along the side of the house on the floor lengthwise.
This gave us room enough for the six footers to lay their bodies on
the bed while their feet extended out on the floor. When all were
ensconced, we were covered with all sorts of bedding. We packed
in soldier- or prison-style, forming a hollow square, and in twenty
minutes most of the number were sound asleep, snoring in so many
different keys as to resemble the squawking of the wild geese.

Sunday, March 29

Slept soundly all last night. Got an early breakfast of bacon, eggs,
and corn cake served up by a couple of ebony gentlemen. Our
driver did not return until 9 o'clock, when we again started-being
delayed twelve hours.

At twelve noon, stopped at Jackson's Point, named after our
passenger Jackson who once lived here. Here we got a first-rate
dinner of roast turkey. Our next station was 27 miles distance and
great fears were entertained of how we should cross the Big Tarkio
River some 16 miles distant. The snow in northern Iowa was
melting and the river was out of its banks, covering the entire
bottoms.

Reaching the regular crossing our driver swam it with one of the
horses and learned by the agent-who was on the opposite side and
came over with the driver-that we must go back two miles and take
another route and cross lower down. We accordingly did so,
crossing the main stream on a bridge. Then came four miles of
river bottoms where the water was from three feet to six inches in
depth all the way. Some of the time the horses could with
difficulty draw the coach. It was long after dark when we reached
the bridge where we should have crossed but for the water. Our
route to cross the river had taken us fifteen miles out of our way. I
shall always remember crossing the Big Tarkio.

It was now four miles to our station, being 36 our team had to go.
One of the horses will probably never go it again as we believe he
is used up. These last four miles was hilly and we walked much of
the way, which was delightful. The prairie was on fire in all
directions, and presented a most magnificent sight. The grass was
dry and tall, and a gentle wind [was] blowing which kept the fire
steadily marching on like an army of soldiers. Sometimes a gust of
wind would strike a section of the line of fire, increasing the flame
and hasting it along ahead of the main line, then continue along the
line in wavy motions like the undulations of the sea. 

In many places our road crossed the fire, when we could see to
read in the coach. We could see fires in all directions and as far as
the eye could extend. I took a match and set a fresh fire where the
grass was long and dry. Before we were out of sight it covered
acres. It is a splendid sight in a cloudy night to stand on a high
bluff and see the prairie on fire in all directions, reddening the
clouds and rendering every limb, tree, and moving thing plainly
visible. I ran on ahead of the coach near half a mile to a high bluff,
where I counted twenty different fires. The one nearest to me was
where the coach and horses were moving at a very slow pace up
the bluff. The passengers were on foot and moved along behind
and ahead of the coach in a direct line of fire. The glare from the
burning prairie gave them an unearthly look which was wild and
romantic in the extreme. I enjoyed it as but few can.

Monday, March 30

Daylight found us at a station awaiting breakfast. Passed as
pleasant a night as I ever did in a coach, diversified with walks up
and down the steepest hills. The wind changed this morning and
seemed to threaten snow. I could easily discover we were getting
farther north, as the wind came down cold and raw from the north,
where within three hundred miles the snow lies three feet deep.

About eight o'clock we crossed the Nishnabotna River in a scow.
The river had risen one foot during the night and was just ready to
go out of its banks, which will be worse than the Tarkio and stop
travel. Here commenced a slow, drizzling, cold rain which
continued all day. The rain had the effect to hasten on our drivers
so that our prospects were favorable of reaching Council Bluffs as
early as eight o'clock.

At Sidney, 45 miles from Council Bluffs, we were relieved of six
of our passengers, leaving but five in the coach, making the
balance of our ride more comfortable. The first station we stopped
at after leaving Sidney was at a farmhouse on the open prairie. Mr.
Jackson, a Cincinnati man, and myself went in to warm. The lady
of the house, a woman about fifty years of age, questioned us
closely about affairs in Kansas. She knew something was going to
be done as some of them abolitionists had been to the
neighborhood and taken away the guns they left there last fall. I
told her there would be no more trouble, all was quiet. She could
not believe it, eyed me very suspiciously, then asked how that hole
came in my hat. My traveling companions took the hint at once
and told the lady I was one of the Kansas prisoners who had
escaped. I found it was useless for me to try to make a fair
statement of affairs, and was obliged to own up and tell all about
how we had been treated. I made every thing fair, implicating no
one. When we left, our hostess seemed to be satisfied, as she had
seen the elephant.

(The hole in the hat was on the brim. While on the upper deck of
the steamer, a spark dropped on my hat and had burned a hole as
round and about the size of a rifle ball. This was what attracted the
attention of the inquisitive lady.)

At St. Mary's, our last change of horses, and twelve miles from
Council Bluffs, we learned the Steamer Admiral, which had left
St. Joseph the day before we did, had not yet passed up. We were
24 hours behind time-still ahead of the boat. At six o'clock, we left
St. Mary's, expecting to be at the Bluffs as early as half past eight. 

The road ran along the bottoms and was in a bad state owing to the
continued rain of the last twelve hours. Night had set in by the
time we had made six miles. At this point was a sluice some
twenty feet wide and about as deep. The water was out of the
banks and overflowed a large space of the bottoms both sides of
the bridge. In the midst of the water, before reaching the bridge,
the horses got set and could not move the coach. We were all
obliged to get out and into the water-three feet deep-and wade to
dry land. The water was cold as ice. Our boots were full and more
was pattering down on our heads, while a cold north wind sent its
chilling blasts almost through us.

We stood a few minutes in this condition while the driver tried to
make his horses draw out the empty coach-but without success.
What was to be done! No house was near, and to stand still was
not deemed safe, in our wet and chilling condition. The driver
wished us to wade in and unfasten his horses, while he remained
on the coach, thus enabling him to get on one of the horses and get
away without his getting in the water. We declined, however, as
we think he might have went around another road and thus
prevented this catastrophe. Each man waded back to the coach and
got his carpet sack and flounced along through the water to the
bridge. Here we rested a few minutes and plunged in on the other
side, and for near one hundred rods we waded knee deep-and some
of the way up to the seat of our pants. It was a trying time, but the
only alternative. The excitement kept the water from chilling us
though. 

Reaching the dry ground-a ground as dry as could be during a
rain-we paddled on the best we could with our heavy carpet sacks,
boots filled with water, clothes wet and stiff, and at every step our
feet sticking like tar to the muddy prairie soil. We looked in vain
for a farmhouse by the way. After a short walk, we discovered a
light across the prairie, glimmering faintly through the darkness of
the night and the falling rain. One of our party said he thought it
was at Council Bluffs, and if so it must be four miles. This
information was rather discouraging. We consoled ourselves,
however, with the belief that the light could not be over one and a
half miles at the extent. 

We dragged ourselves along for one whole hour until it seemed we
could go no farther. Still, that deceptive light receded from us as
fast as we traveled, and we could not discover that it was any
nearer than when we started. I could easily imagine how one
benight[ed] on the prairie in a snowstorm would become
disheartened and lay down and take his last sleep while the winter
wind covered him with [a] pure white sheet of snow.

Another half hour, and instead of one light we could discover
some dozen or more. This animated us afresh; at the same time we
had another hundred yards to wade in mud and water above our
knees. Our last half mile we paid no attention to the best part of
the road, so we made headway. At ten o'clock we reach[ed] the
Pacific House, Council Bluffs. My head was dizzy and I could
barely see, while my arms seemed pulled down to the ground by
my heavy satchel. We had walked six miles.

Two of our number, on reaching Council Bluffs, were by their own
firesides, surrounded by their own families. What a blessing their
homes must have been that night. Three of us stopped at the hotel,
ordered a room with a fire and two buckets of water. By assisting
each other, we succeeded in getting off our boots, which was a
difficult job with what strength we had left. As soon as I could
arrange my clothes around the stove and wash the mud from my
feet and legs, I tumbled into bed, not "caring whether school kept
or not."

5 - Welcome to Omaha

Omaha, Nebraska--March 31-April 9.

Tomorrow morning will be four weeks since I left home. Fifteen
hundred miles over mountains, prairies, rivers, and lakes
intervenes between us, separating us as widely as would the ocean
. . . This is truly an unnatural way for a man of a family to live . . .

 Tuesday, March 31

Got up feeling much better than I could have expected. Put on my
pants (which were about half dry), a clean pair of socks, and a pair
of new boots which I bought at St. Louis, stowing my muddy boots
into my satchel. It had ceased raining, but was cold and foggy, very
much such a morning as the one I first saw here last fall. After
breakfast, took the omnibus and reached Omaha about 10 o'clock.
To my great regret, found Mr. Tuttle had gone east. He left a letter
for me, however, which was some consolation.

After spending [a] half hour at the bank, where I met a number of
the Saratoga Men, I went down to Mr. Rogers' to see Br. Cook. I
will not say we were glad to see each other-we were overjoyed.
Cook felt bad when he learned I had not called to Flint. He had
rather have paid my extra expenses than not to have me have gone
there. Took dinner where Cook boards and decided to stop there
until Sunday night. We must then both seek a new place. The
cheapest board I can hear of is five dollars for day boarders and
eight dollars where one lodges. 

The family where Mr. Cook boards consists of the man and wife,
with nine children. The oldest is a son, married, whose wife also
lives in the same family. They also have five day-boarders, and
they only occupy one room, without a closet pantry or any out
house and live upstairs. A curtain divides the room in the center,
one side is the dining room, the other has a bed, cook stove, and all
kitchen furniture. At night, the beds are spread over the floor for
the family, and in the morning piled up in a corner. Such is Cook's
boarding house without the least exaggeration.

After dinner called on my old acquaintance. At the bank, met Dr.
Kellum, brother of the young man I saw at Auban and later at
Leavenworth as I came up. Dr. Kellum's is the place I called one
evening with Mr. & Mrs. Tuttle last fall. They were then building a
brick house over their heads. I accepted an invitation to tea very
gladly. Was much pleased with Mrs. Kellum and her daughter one
year younger than Sophia. They live in eastern style and
comfortable. They had invited another one of the dignitaries to
supper who had lately arrived. It was Gov. Richardson of
Michigan. We had a pleasant time and a good supper, after which I
returned to the store, where I occupied the bunk of one of the
workmen who was out on the prairie proving up his claim. Slept
good all night.

Wednesday, April 1

Feel the worse for wear. The excitement kept me up yesterday;
today I am lame and sore, and feel the effects of my journey,
particularly the last six miles. Spent most of the day dozing over
the stove in Cook's workshop trying to get rested. Met. Mr. Warner
today.

Thursday, April 2

Not fully rested. Walked about the town and up on the bluffs with
Mr. Warner. Business has not yet fully commenced here for the
want of lumber from up the river, which is daily expected.

This afternoon, spent a season with Secretary Brown and others of
the Saratoga Co. Was posted up on their future proceedings. A
hotel to be called the Trinity House and commenced last fall is to
be completed by the first of June. This belongs to the Saratoga
Company and is paid for. A Hotel Company has been organized to
put up a most magnificent hotel comprising an entire block, and to
cost $100,000. The plans were got up in Philadelphia. The contract
for the stone work and foundation is let and will be commenced in
a few days. The hotel is to be completed in one year. There is to be
200 buildings put up in Saratoga this summer. Most of them are
under contract and only waiting for lumber to commence. I
reported myself ready to take hold next Monday. I am to make out
a schedule for the drawing of the lots. There is to be 15 lots to
each share drawn on the 17th. 

I have become somewhat animated today, which has driven away
the blues.

Friday, April 3

A pleasant and warm day. Walked up to the "Trinity House" and
over part of the Saratoga town plot. The more I see of it, the better
I like it. It is delightful! Charming!! and by far a pleasanter
location than Omaha. The Company [will] donate 256 lots to
churches, schools, and individuals who will build before July first.
I am in for one.

Have completely recovered from my fatigue of the journey.

Saturday Evening, April 4th

I have been to tea and am seated in Cook's workshop, where I have
spent every evening since I arrived at this place. This is the night
of all others when my mind flies back to my own fireside. In
imagination I see you all seated around a warm fire in a
comfortable room. Irwin and Sophia wondering where father is
tonight. They may sing with truth, "My father's on the wild
prairie," for it is a wild night, not cold but the wind blows a
hurricane and shakes this frail cottonwood building, creeping in to
every crevice, rattling my paper as I write. How I wish I could
form one of the group this evening! That cannot be, so I will
banish the thought.

The day has been a windy one. Have kept indoors most of the time.
Talked a good deal about Saratoga projects; it is the theme now.
What I shall make out of it is yet to be ascertained. I am not sorry
yet that I have come out here. What another week will bring forth
we cannot tell except we will have one the less to live.

One thing I forgot to mention in its proper place. When I left
home, I had between ninety and one hundred dollars. I arrived here
the 31st ult with but nine dollars, and my trunk to be paid for
bringing from St. Joseph to this point. I believe I can travel as
economicus as anyone, but this trip has taken the money off fast. I
hope it will come back as rapidly and more easy.

We learn by mail today of the appointment of Robert J. Walker of
Mississippi [as] Governor of Kansas. I fear it will cause more
trouble. My 40th page is full. I will bid you goodnight.

E. F. Beadle

 Omaha City, April 5, 1857

Dear Wife and Children,

It is Sunday and a very cold one. The wind has been blowing from
the north since yesterday morning, and today we can only keep
comfortable by getting close to the hot stove. I shall not venture
out to church today.

Tomorrow morning will be four weeks since I left home. Fifteen
hundred miles over mountains, prairies, rivers, and lakes
intervenes between us, separating us as widely as would the ocean.
The weeks will undoubtedly be lengthened into as many months
before we meet again. This is truly an unnatural way for a man of a
family to live, but deeming it for the best, we must try and be
content. Letter writing is the only means by which we can
communicate with each other. As yet I have not heard a word
direct from home and expect it will be another week still before I
get a letter. After that I hope to receive one every week. Cook gets
one regular as the weeks come, and I think where there is two or
three to write you can write as often as Elizabeth does. You must
bear in mind that a letter from one's home when far away, is much
more welcome than a letter can be from the absent one, when you
are surrounded by warm friends and relatives and all the comforts
of life.

I left orders at the Barnum House, St. Louis, to have any letters
that should come for me to be forwarded to this place.

You have, enclosed, the balance of my diary up to the date of this.
I shall continue it for the present at least and mail once a week.
Until the roads get more settled I shall send my letters by the boats
to St. Louis, as it now takes ten days for the mails to cross the state
by coach.

It is impossible for me to form any correct estimate of what my
prospects will be here this summer. I shall know better when Mr.
Tuttle returns from the East. I think, however, that I shall do well,
judging from present prospects. Mr. Brown was over anxious for
me to go to Lawrence with him. Offered me one thousand per year,
and if that was not enough, he would give me twelve hundred. I
could not accept even if I desired it.

Rents here are enormously high. Houses of one room, fifteen feet
square, rent at $25 per month; provisions are in the same
proportion. Wood $6 per cord. Dry goods and apples are quite
reasonable; the latter are as cheap as in the city of New York-$6
per barrel. Unless more farmers come in, provisions will keep up
for a number of years yet. I do not deem it advisable to think of
moving my family to this place until buildings are more plenty.
Many families live in houses no larger or better than our wood
house. Such a house as we lived in at Cold Springs before we built
would rent for $30 per month. This would seem discouraging to
emigration, but wages are in proportion. I believe that if there was
five hundred dwellings now ready for tenants, they would be filled
by the first of June. When I left St. Joseph, there were some fifty
families awaiting a boat for this place. When they come I know not
what they will do, as there is not a vacant house in town and the
hotels are full. Boats are daily expected with lumber which will be
speedily be put into dwellings.

I hope and trust you are comfortable so far as the necessities of life
go. Necessities in Buffalo are luxuries in Omaha. I wish someone
would buy the house in Buffalo, as I cannot say how I shall be
prepared to meet the payments. As it respects your going East this
summer, you should do as you think best. But try and keep the
children to school, for should they come to this place they will not
have the advantages they do at Buffalo.

Irwin: How do you get along with your school and doing the work
of splitting wood, and going on errands now father is away? I
presume you are the best boy now you ever was. I have been
looking at a mustang pony, which I think some of buying for you if
you come out here this fall. Then you can take Sophia out a-riding
on the prairie in a little buggy or go a-horseback ride with her. You
be a good boy and get your lessons well and when you come to
Omaha you shall have a horse.

Sophia: I have not received one of those letters you were going to
write me. I presume, however, you have written but the letters
have not arrived. I shall look for a letter every week after they
commence coming. I wish you could step in and see what a bed
and room Pa has to sleep in. I am to have a new boarding place
tomorrow, where I shall lodge and perhaps fare better.

You must he good and kind to your mother, brothers, and Aunt
Sarah, and learn fast at school and how to do housework at home,
for when you come to Omaha, you and mother will have to do all
the work. Give my Love to Aunt Sarah and Charlotte.

Mate: Cook says he shall not move his family here unless I do, as
there is no woman's help to be had, and should Lib be sick she
must suffer. When help can be got it is one dollar per day.
Washing is ten cents apiece. When one comes, both must. You can
then help each other. One of the boys in the family where I board
does the washing. There is eight boys and one girl in the family.

My health is usually good. The first night on the steamboat on the
Missouri, I took cold, since which time I have been troubled with a
cough. Nothing alarming, however, though unpleasant. I think it is
getting better.

I think I have written enough for this time. Kiss the children for
me and remember me to my friends and relatives.

Affectionately,

E. F. Beadle

Monday, April 6

The wind went down with the sun last night, but it had blowed
from the north long enough to bring down the arctic region
weather-and water in our basin two inches deep froze solid. This is
Omaha the 6th of April.

The river continuing to rise prevents communication from the
Iowa side and we have no mails from the East today. My cold has
settled on my lungs. My chest is very sore and I have a severe pain
in my back between my shoulders. If I was home I should be down
sick.

In looking up a new boarding place, I have been very fortunate,
through the intercessions of Mr. Warner, in getting in at Mr.
Estabrook's, the Attorney General of the territory. In could not
have got a better place in the territory. They have no boarders
except Mr. Warner and myself. The family consists of Mrs.
Estabrook's father and three other male relatives of the family, two
children-a girl, eleven, and a boy two years of age. Mr. Estabrook
is in Wisconsin on business. The three male relatives are going out
on their claim in a few days, when shall have a chance to sleep at
the house where I can doctor up. Mr. E. has horses, cows, and
poultry, and we live very first rate, "real human." Augusta
Estabrook is a very good substitute for Sophia as she is a singer
and plays on the guitar.

The wind has changed to the south and the weather is fast
moderating and tonight Spring again.

Tuesday, April 7

The Big Muddy is mad and gone out of its banks--has not been so
high in twenty years. It is said that teams cannot cross on account
of the bottoms being overflowed between Sioux City, Iowa and St.
Joseph, Missouri, a distance by the river of 500 miles. We can get
no mails from the east. 

This morning was very mild. At breakfast, Augusta was trying to
get some of the men to go for a horseback ride with her, but they
were going away on business and I offered to go. The Pony was
got out and one of the horses, but the rain settling in prevented.
Went to the shop and up to Florence--six miles--in a covered
buggy with Mr. Cook to contract for coal. I thought I would try
going out. But it rained all the way and the wind blew strong from
the northwest, so that when I got back my cold was not much
better. Took some medicine at noon. Spent the afternoon with
Saratoga Co. After tea, the baby danced while the little girl played
on the guitar and the grandfather on the violin. The apples were
then passed around, after which I came up to the shop and wrote
the above. The boarding place I now have makes me forget I am
on the borders of civilization. My back pains me dreadfully
tonight.

Wednesday, April 8

It is evening, the weather has moderated, and it is delightful out of
doors after such a cold wind as we have had. The moon is in its
full and the river bottoms which are not overflowed are dotted
with prairie fires. Many people are out enjoying the evening.
Notwithstanding the winds here, we have weather that cannot be
approached by New York where I have lived. I am becoming more
and more attached to the place and trust it will be my future home,
and if I had a house I should wish my family was here today.

Feel the most like myself today of any day since I have been here.
My lameness has mostly left me; the cough, however, still hangs
on. I have had three mails from the east since last night; they were
brought over in a skiff. I got no letters. Cook did. I have been
working with Mr. Warner a little today, helping him build a fence
around one of his lots. He is to help me in return. The river is still
rising.

Mrs. Estabrook gave me some interesting details of her pioneer
life when they first came to the Territory. They lived in what they
now use as a barn (it is not fit for horses). It is very low, and at the
time the family occupied it, its only roof was made by putting a
few small poles lengthwise and covering them with prairie grass;
had no boards on the floor, but covered the ground with hay and
spread down a rag carpet and put in such furniture as they could
procure, the house being on descending ground. When it rained,
the water would run through the hay under the carpet and pass out
on the other side. One night during a thunderstorm, a hole broke
through the hay roofing. The rain poured in faster than it would
run out, and they were forced to use a wash tub most of the night,
carrying it out as often as it filled, which was every few minutes.

This was the way our Attorney General lived when he first came
here. How would Mrs. Beadle like this mode of living?

Thursday, April 9

A pleasant morning. Took a horseback ride immediately after
breakfast. Little Augusta manages her pony like a skillful rider as
she is. She is the smallest girl I ever saw ride a horseback. She will
dash up bluffs and down ravines and over prairie as fast as I have
wished to ride, and I am not sure but she would be a better
guardian for me than I for her. When she was but three years old,
her father would ride out with her, tying her to her horse so she
would not fall, and then gallop off at full speed. She will lend her
pony to my pet, as she calls Sophia.

Worked on the fence with Mr. Warner part of the day and devoted
some time to the Saratoga enterprise. The river continues to rise.
No boat up.

I got a paper this afternoon from someone in Buffalo. The paper
was the Daily Republic of March 16th. On the wrapper was
"Kirby"-I cannot think who sent it, as I can call to mind no one of
my acquaintance by that name. Whoever he may be, I hold myself
under obligations to him. The paper looked like an old friend, and
I read it advertisements and all. I miss a daily after tea very much.
We shall soon have one here, a Mr. Wyman, our present P. M. has
gone east for the type and press.

My lameness and cold has settled in the glands of my throat since
morning and I can hardly swallow. I shall doctor up tonight, as I
commence to lodge at my boarding house. Mr. Warner was just as
I am soon after he came here.

There is a meeting land agents called this evening to fix a tariff of
prices. If my throat is not too bad I shall surely attend.

 6 - Pawnees and Claim Jumpers

Omaha, Nebraska--April 10-24.

The captain of "the regulators" is our Mayor, a man six-and-a-half
feet high and well-proportioned. He took the claim jumper by the
collar, escorted him down the street, and with a dozen or fifteen
men with loaded muskets, they started for the "Big Muddy" . . .
The party returned without the prisoner and no questions asked. 

 Friday, April 10

Attended the meeting last evening. We organized a stock board.
Became acquainted with many new businessmen, and have spent
the most of this day talking up the business of last evening and
arranging for a permanent organization for our individual benefit
and the benefit of Eastern capitalists who are becoming imposed
upon by false representations.

The Pawnee Indians are camped near here-the old men, women,
and children. The strong and healthy are out on a buffalo hunt.
Those remaining here hang about the houses, begging their living,
stealing cats, dogs, and the refuse of the slaughter houses.
Someone trying what he could do with his revolver shot a fine dog
about a week ago. Today the Indians found it, and although it had
commenced putrifying, they squat down, skinned it and carried it
off to cook. Such is about the best food the filthy Pawnees get
while the hunters are away.

River still rising. Weather mild and pleasant this evening. My
throat is well, and the only lameness I have is probably occasioned
by my not being used to horseback riding, and the horse I had was
a hard rider. Owing to the rise in the river and prevailing north
winds, no boats have got up yet. The river rising makes the current
more rapid.

Saturday, April 11

A cold north wind blowing again. A man from Fremont, a town
west of the Elkhorn, came here for provisions, and in crossing the
Elkhorn on his return-which was on a rise-was drowned. The
Elkhorn and Platte are both impassible at this time, with wagons.

Great excitement on the frontier! Attack upon the settlers by the
Pawnees!! A Pawnee shot!!!-Mr. John Davis, Justice of the Peace
at Salt Creek, Lancaster Co., N. T., arrived here this morning about
10 o'clock calling upon the governor for militia to assist in
exterminating the Pawnees. Mr. Davis reports that depredations
have been frequent during this fall, winter, and present spring,
until they have lost their oxen, horses, cattle-and in fact everything
the Indians could drive or run off. On Tuesday, a number of
Pawnees came to Salt Creek, painted and in war costume,
demanding the lands and pay for the deer and wolves the whites
had killed, or they would kill and scalp them; that they had taken
the fort and scalped the people, that there was a party of one
hundred and fifty Pawnees in the rear which would soon be up.
The present party continued in the vicinity all night hooting and
yelping. 

About daylight, they approached the house of Mr. Davis with
threatening signs. One of the Pawnees raised his gun-apparently in
the act of shooting-but was not quick enough, as a ball from Mr.
Davis' gun killed him on the spot. The balance fled. Mr. Davis,
fearing a further attack, buried the dead Indian and started with his
family toward Plattsmouth, which is on the same side of the Platte
River as Salt Creek. Before reaching Plattsmouth, he was met by a
party of six men and their families going to Salt Creek. Mr. Davis
give up his gun to them and left his wife in their charge, himself
continuing on to Plattsmouth where he was taken across the Platte
in a skiff. At Bellevue he got a man to bring him here. He had in
his company another aggrieved individual who had been a great
loser by the Pawnees.

The Governor did not feel like calling on the militia and rushing
upon the Pawnees until he knew more of the affair. He, however,
dispatched General Thayer to the vicinity of Salt Creek, with
orders if necessary to call on the militia of that Lancaster County.
This was not wholly satisfactory to Mr. Davis, who wanted to raise
a company of volunteers and exterminate the whole race of
Pawnees. In this he had the sympathy of a certain officer of this
Territory who has just resigned at Washington with a view of
being elected to Congress. His object is probably to get the
squatters' vote. The said official resides at Bellvue and took Mr.
Davis and friend in his carriage to Bellevue ready to head a party
of volunteers.

The Governor said he did not believe an Indian could be found in
fifty miles of Salt Creek when they got there, but they probably
would be revenged some day on Mr. Davis. The Goverernor
further said the Indian agent was expected every hour and would
go out at once, and if he found it necessary, he was the proper
person to call on him, the Governor, and then the U. S.
Government would pay the expenses. I had an invitation to go with
General Thayer, but the ex- Indian agent wished to go and I was
obliged to give way. I had got all ready as Gen. Thayer was very
anxious to have me go along. The General is, I understand, another
candidate for the same office as the other gentleman.

This afternoon I received a letter from Mr. McKim under date of
March 26th. Seventeen days after I left Buffalo, still I get none
from my own family. Did they wait seventeen days and not write
to me? I am becoming very anxious about a letter from home.
Could I get one tonight it would have been a great consolation, as
it is Saturday night when I think most of being home.

Sunday, April 12

The steamer Silver Heels came in during last night, bringing about
250 passengers. What is to be done with them I cannot tell. The
boat brought no lumber, or houses could he built in quick time.
Mrs. Smith, the lady whose husband was left at Jefferson City and
who we left at Leavenworth over two weeks ago came up on the
Silver heels. Mrs. Estabrook took them in, giving them breakfast
and dinner. By that time they found two rooms for rent for $25 per
month. They have gone into them to make the best of it possible.
Every family here has to be as accommodating as possible or the
people would suffer. I cannot conceive where they all find shelter
in Kansas. Troubles are anticipated in Kansas.

Through the kindness of Mr. Smith, who saw my trunk at the
storehouse in St. Joseph, I received it by this boat. I have been
arranging the contents. One of the new shirts I brought with me
has been returned from the washer woman's with a spot of iron rust
on the bosom as large as the bowl of a tablespoon, quite an
ornament.

This afternoon the wind is blowing again the way you never saw it
blow down Niagara St.

I have an opportunity to send this by a daughter of Mr. Goodwill's
who is going to Batavia to spend the summer at school, or by a
Col. Parker of the City of New York. Shall go up and if not to late
it will go by St. Louis on the boat, otherwise I will mail it.

The water in the river is between 16 and 17 feet above low water
mark. Between the steamboat landing and the town there is a space
500 feet wide where in this strip of water the passengers must be
taken across in a skiff. At Saratoga the landing is dry. The steamer
is to return tonight if the wind is not too high. Am about well
again.

Again Goodbye,

E. F. Beadle

Monday, April 13

Water going down in the river faster than it came up. Cold north
winds continue, but not blowing a gale. After dinner, went up to
Saratoga to show the gift lots to some strangers who wish to build.
While on the plateau and revolving in my mind what would be the
best part of the town, I conceived a project, [which] I believe will
put money in my purse.

Returning to Omaha, I learned a large eastern mail had been
received, and went direct to the Post Office. Found nothing in my
box. Went to Cook's, and there I found

A Letter from Home - Yes, a letter from my own fireside. No one
can fully estimate the value of such a letter unless they have been
in a like situation. Five weeks and a day had passed during which
time we have traveled by all possible modes of conveyance night
and day, been in eight different states and two territories, mingled
with all sorts of people from the frozen north to the sunny South,
until the distance that separated me from my family seemed almost
like that around the globe. At last, however-after a tedious journey
over land, across river, lakes, streams, prairie and mountains-my
revered Uncle "Sam" opened his mail bags and dealt out to me a
little parcel, which, though very small, bore an impress of home
and produced a powerful effect, like the doses dealt out by the
homeopathists. A mingled sensation of joy and fear possessed
me-Were they all well? If not well, were they all living? Had
disease or death been there? There had been time for sad changes.

I took the letter unopened and went down to my boarding house.
Mrs. Estabrook knew I had a letter as soon as she saw me. Threw
down the letter on the table. Went down in the basement, washed
my face and hands and brushed my clothes, then went up into the
sitting room and carefully opened the letter. There was a letter
enclosed from each one. Those little fingers of my children had
been busy in adding to the joy of their father who was far away.
Now which one shall I read first? Can't read them all at a time, so I
decided to take them in the order of the ages of the writers. I read
each one a number of times, which answered for my supper that
night. My mind was so full of the thoughts brought up by the
receipt of the letter, I slept but little although all were well at
home.

Tuesday, April 14

A steamer came in last evening. She is from Pittsburgh,
Pennsylvania, loaded with merchandise and furniture-mostly the
latter, among which is some [that is] very nice, better than has
been in market heretofore. The boat is the Spread Eagle,
twenty-five days from Pittsburgh. She had on 40,000 feet [of]
dressed lumber for this place. Was told at some port below they
could do better to sell it there, which they did-very much to their
loss and our regret.

Figuring some on my new project. It will work well. A company of
forty came in this morning from across Iowa; going to locate in
Saratoga and work at gardening this summer. That will pay.

They have commenced to break ground today for a new hotel here,
to be called the Park House. The citizens have voted to sell their
park to complete the Capitol building, which was not appropriated
for by the last Congress. Saratoga agrees to pay one-fourth
necessary to complete it. The building will be completed this
summer, at all events, by the City itself.

Wednesday, April 15

Staked out a building lot in Saratoga, and selected a lot of shade
trees and wild gooseberry bushes on the bluff of the tableland to
set out in my lot as soon as it is fenced.

The steamer White Cloud arrived here about seven o'clock this
evening with 150 passengers and a good supply of provisions.
Shingles, doors, and window sash, but no lumber as yet. Among
the passengers, I found two old acquaintances; one I traveled with
last fall, the other was the gentleman of whom I bought the large
map we have of "Our Country." His brother is the Baptist Minister
of this place.

When the boat arrived, it seemed one half of the inhabitants were
at the landing. When the plank was put out, they rushed on in such
a body it was some minutes before the passengers could get off.
Then such a peeping into each other's faces to recognize some
expected friend. The vicinity of the ladies' cabin was one perfect
jam of men eagerly peeping over the heads of more forward ones,
or crowding through to get a sight at some dozen ladies who were
as eager to single out their husband, brother, or friend. I mixed in,
but no one knew I was there. I was not, however, as disappointed
as some hundred others must have been.

Not as windy today or as cold, but it froze hard last night. It has
been cold over a week. We hope for a change.

Thursday, April 16

A delightful day and no wind. Have spent the day in showing up
strangers. Been up to Saratoga. Everyone goes off in ecstasies
about the location. Can sell lots as soon as they are divided. The
Steamer Emigrant came in about five this afternoon-about
seventy-five passengers and a supply of lumber.

Clouded up at dark to rain as it was warm, but the rain came down
in snow. Went up to the Post Office at eight o'clock. The ground
was white with snow, but warm air. Got a letter from Brother
Frank. Went to bed as tired as I want to be. Had the nightmare and
was nervous all night. This was an awful one to me.

Friday, April 17

Two inches of snow this morning, with a prospect of clearing off.
Prospects, however, have deceived us and it has snowed steadily
all day, driving from the northeast. There is probably a foot of
snow on a level, and still it is coming down as fast as ever. I never
recollect but one such time; that was at Cooperstown many years
ago. The snow then fell three feet. The storm does not discourage
me with making Nebraska my home. "Where there is a will there is
a way." I also understand this cold weather we have had has
prevailed south and east.

The steamer Minnehaha came in this afternoon with another
hundred passengers and more lumber. We are now having a boat
daily. Where the passengers all get a chance to stand up, even,
under cover, I cannot conceive. I ventured up town this afternoon
and could see two or three to each door asking for board. I cannot
too much appreciate my boarding place. - Goodnight.

Saturday, April 18

This is a most delightful January morning. The sun shines clear
and bright and the snow sparkles and crisps under foot like
mid-winter. Last evening about dark, Cook came down and told
me General Thayer wished to see me about going to Plattsmouth
with him. The General had been notified of further outrages by the
Pawnees. Some whites were out looking for the stock they had left
previous when they were attacked by the Pawnees, with whom
they had a brush. One white man and two Indians were killed, and
three Indians taken prisoner. The whites then retreated to Weeping
Water, where there is a few squatters' cabins. Here at last accounts
they were surrounded by the Pawnees.

Not finding the General at his house or office, I went down to the
Minnehaha, where he had engaged passage, and awaited his
arrival. We then put on board five boxes of U. S. muskets, one
six-pounder, and a supply of ammunition. The General was to take
no one with him, but wished me to go along. (By the way, Mr.
Brown introduced me here as Doctor Beadle. I am accordingly
called Doctor by most of the people.) The Dr. agreed to go. The
boat was to leave this morning at daylight. Gen. Thayer was to be
on board the boat at daylight. I thought of going on the same
evening, but getting somewhat wet being out so long in the snow,
and my throat sore, I took some ginger tea and doctored up to take
an early start this morning. Got up at daylight, but could not see
the boat, so I went back to bed disappointed. When I got up an
hour after the boat was just leaving, I felt crestfallen. My ambition
for glory fell below zero. I anticipated great sport in organizing a
company at Plattsmouth and going out to Weeping Water. Not that
I expected we should be called upon to fire again, for in this case I
should prefer to be away, particularly when there was no one to
engage with but the poor miserable Pawnees. There would have
been, however, a novelty in the enterprise and perhaps I might
have been promoted.

Claim jumpers are being brought up daily. Most of them forego
their claimed right on the decision of the Club, who give them a
fair and impartial trial. Occasionally, however, one is found who is
stubborn and will not at once yield. One of this class was tried last
evening and this morning, but would not abide by the decision of
the club, which was for him to yield his claim and withdraw his
filing. The captain of "the regulators" is our Mayor, a man
six-and-a-half feet high and well-proportioned. He took the claim
jumper by the collar, escorted him down the street, and with a
dozen or fifteen men with loaded muskets, they started for the "Big
Muddy." In general, the prisoner comes to terms. What was the
result in this case I cannot say. The party returned without the
prisoner and no questions asked. There is no law here except club
laws and vigilance committee to enforce them. A man gets a fair
hearing and justice done him, but it is quick done and no heavy
expense saddled on the County. I am not sure but in most cases
this is the best plan. All are agreed and a man knows what to
depend on. I think I will be quiet and peacable.

No mail east of Iowa today. Mr. Warner, Mrs. Estabrook, and
myself were expecting letters. We were, however, all alike
disappointed and could sympathize with each other. Mrs.
Estabrook's disappointment resulted in the return of her husband,
which she was not expecting for one or two weeks. Mr. E. reported
the roads in a fine state across Iowa. Which makes Mr. Warner and
myself wonder the more that we do not get more letters.

This day has been as warm a one as any we have had since I have
been here this spring, and has melted the snow rapidly. The
steamer Florence came in this evening, discharged her freight for
this place and passed up to Florence.

Sunday, April 19

Soon after breakfast the steamer Omaha came in bound for Sioux
City. Mr. Estabrook and myself went down to the boat, which was
loaded as full as she could hold. Among the freight which has been
discharged within the past few days, we found large quantities of
provisions, lumber, and fruit trees. Business will now fairly
commence and in one year the yards will be ornamented with
shrubbery and fruit trees, giving everything an Eastern air.

This has been a delightful day and one half of the ground is bare
again. I begin to be uneasy for some regular business. The drawing
of the lots in Saratoga, which was to have taken place the 17th, has
been adjourned two weeks, awaiting the return of Mr. Tuttle. A
meeting of the board is to be held Wednesday the 22nd when I am
to submit a written proposition to them for their action. I do so at
their request. I cannot say whether it will be accepted or not. If it
is, it will be money in the pockets of Saratoga owners, and I
believe a small pile in my own.

The claim jumper that was taken off yesterday held out until they
threw him into the river three times. They attached a rope to him,
threw him into the "Big Muddy," then pulled him out again. If he
was not then ready to forego his claim, they would souse him in
again, repeating the dose until he came to terms, which was not
until he had been in the third time.

The steamer Florence stopped at Saratoga, discharged some freight
and one passenger. This is the first boat that ever stopped at
Saratoga and Dr. J. Seymore the first passenger ever landed. The
freight was some brick machines and six carriages for Wm. Young
Brown. This is the commencement of commercial business in
Saratoga.

E. F. Beadle

Monday, April 20

A raw, disagreeable day. Remained indoors, speculating on the
contents of a letter which I expected at twelve noon. Did not get
the letter. Felt a little out of sorts. Mr. Estabrook suggested that I
hint to my wife that divorces are very easily obtained in this
country and perhaps she would be more prompt. Fearing she would
not write at all if I should, I refrain from mentioning the matter at
all.

Tuesday, April 21

Assisted Mr. Estabrook this forenoon in copying some legal
papers. The snow has disappeared. The steamer Col. Crossman
arrived and departed today.

Wednesday, April 22

Presented my proposition, in writing, to the Sulphur Spring Land
Co. Took a stroll down at the south part of Omaha among the
hazel brush and prairie can. Passed through occupied Pawnee
tents. Two Pawnee boys came out half-naked and wanted I should
give them five cents to shoot at a mark. On the side of a bank I
found where a mud hut of the Pawnees had been during the winter.
The ground in the vicinity was strewn with bones of animals of
various size, including skulls of cats, dogs, deer, horses, and cattle.
The vicinity resembled the entrance to a wolf's den more than that
of a human habitation.

I sat down by the side of a lake formed by the high water of the
Missouri, and remained motionless for a half hour. The wild ducks
came up within ten feet of me and fed along the bank. There were
some beautiful ones. If I had had a good shotgun, I could have
killed a fine lot of them. Or even with my revolver, had it been
with me, I could have killed some, they came so close to me.

Thursday, April 23

Two steamers came in this morning at daylight, the Edinburgh and
Admiral. I went down before breakfast. Both boats were
well-loaded with passengers and lumber. The latter is very much
wanted here, as the little that has come in has been mostly
used-even at $100 per thousand, which is the price asked for
lumber at this time. The same lumber can be bought in Buffalo at
$16 per thousand.

Having written this much immediately after breakfast, I was called
upon by a carpenter from Centralia, Illinois, whom I induced while
there to come here. He has two other carpenters and his brother
with him. They have brought their household furniture and are
going to select a gift lot in Saratoga, pitch their tent and go to
work. Immediately after dinner I shall go up with them to select
their lot. They brought a present for me from Harriet. It was a
small paper box about eight or ten inches square, in which was a
fruit cake, a piece of sponge cake, a lemon, and some nuts, with a
line requesting me to divide with Cook. You see I am remembered
by someone.

Today's mail brings me a letter from Mr. Adams, from which I
learn all are well at home. I would like the information to come
from home itself. The letter was dated April 10th. It contained
intelligence of the final result of Thomas & Lathrop's failure.
Notwithstanding all they done towards, I feel sorry for them.
Misery, you know, loves company. I am glad to learn that Irwin
and Frank are in Auburn.

The weather has become pleasant and business is on the move and
our town filled with strangers. Cooperstown is well represented:
one store here has four clerks from C. Two of the number is J.
Collins and Parley Johnson. During the arrivals of the last week,
Joseph McNeal and Wm. Pitcher came to town to work at
gardening. Mr. Tuttle sent them on.

Evening. Went up immediately after dinner with my Centralia
friends and staked out a lot in Saratoga. They at once dispatched a
team for their effects. They had two wagonloads. They were to
arrange their boxes in the form of a hollow square, put up their
stove, cook their first meal in the territory, and sleep the first night
under their tent. Tomorrow they will have up a temporary cabin
covered with cloth. This is the correct way to do instead of paying
six dollars per week for board, and they will fare about as well as
to board. Their company consists of four: one person is only
fourteen years of age and he is to be their cook. The weather is
fine and they will have great times. They have a violin and bass
viol with them to make evening music. I have an invitation to dine
with them on wild duck as soon as they shoot one. Their location
is lot ten in block 266, near the Trinity House, which I find is
beginning to look up some. I noticed seven commencements of
new buildings since I was last up to Saratoga. What a change there
will be in the next two months.

Returning to Mr. Estabrook's at 5 o'clock, I found the horses ready
for my second horseback ride with Augusta and we had a pleasant
ride for an hour before tea.

While I am writing in my room, Mr. Estabrook and his family are
in the sitting room, making fine music. Mr. E. is playing the violin
and singing bass. Mrs E. and the little girl are singing other parts
and they fill the house with music.

This day I go into the streets where I am at home and acquainted
and I feel like a stranger, there are so many strange faces here, and
this evening the streets are filled with the elite of Omaha. I could
not believe there was so many moving bundles of dry goods in
town. The silks and satins are fluttering on Farnam Street equal to
our-no!-your main street. Buffalo ain't nowhere when compared to
Omaha or Saratoga. We are a fast people here. Last fall when I
was here there was not a piano in town; now there is over a dozen.

There has been a few Omaha Indians in town today. They are
splendid-looking fellows, finely and gaudily dressed in all the
trappings of the proudest red men. I would attempt a description,
but have not time tonight as it is bedtime. Will do so hereafter.
The Omahas are a great contrast to the filthy Pawnees who go
half-naked. I could look a half day on the noble Omahas.

Friday, April 24

Took a horseback ride up to Saratoga to give directions about
buildings. Found my friends had got a load of lumber and
commenced their house. Had a fine time the past night, had a
carpet spread on the prairie and everything comfortable. The cabin
formed by boxes was not high enough to stand up in; the stove was
outside. Continued my ride up to Florence.

 7 - "Gloomy, Lonesome Day"

Omaha, Nebraska--April 25-30.

The little girl had on, in her coffin, a string of coral beads to which
was attached a little locket. You cannot conceive the feelings the
sight gave me.

 Saturday, April 25

Another Sad Chapter in my diary. Among the passengers that came
up the river when I did was a Mr. Baker, his wife, son, and
daughter-from western New York. Mr. Baker came here in the
winter and made arrangements to establish a nursery. Got 300,000
trees and grafts at Rochester and started early with his family for
Omaha. His son was eleven years of age and his daughter seven.
The little girl on the boat was taken down with the whooping
cough and the first day was quite sick with a high fever. After that
all was well except her cough, which was severe. At St. Joseph,
Mr. Baker's family was among the number that were obliged to
wait for another boat to go up to Omaha. They came up on the
steamer Silver Heels on Sunday the 12th, the same time Mr. and
Mrs. Smith, which I have written about, came up. The little girl
was around the cabin, but one eye was red as blood from coughing,
which had strained her eyes very much. The boy had been taken
with the hay fever and was confined to his bed. They were
acquaintances of Mr. Goodwill of this place, who took them in
charge. From time to time I learned both the children were quite
sick. Yesterday I had started to go up to Saratoga in the afternoon.
Was met by Mr. Goodwill, who told me both the children were
dead and it was then time for the funeral. The girl had died at noon
and the boy at evening of the day previous. I attended the funeral,
and you may readily imagine it was a heartrending scene. The only
children of the family, a boy and girl, lay side by side in their
separate coffins. The little girl had on, in her coffin, a string of
coral beads to which was attached a little locket. You cannot
conceive the feelings the sight gave me. The balance of the
afternoon was a gloomy one to me. Oh, how homesick I was.

There was a large funeral and all seemed to sympathize with the
afflicted parents. Such is the incidents of life and we must submit,
heartrending as they are to us.

Having written this much since breakfast and mended Miss
Augusta's doll for her company today, I will leave my writing and
walk up to Saratoga on business.

At Saratoga we found our carpenters had got their frame up and a
canvass over it and were writing for their families. Mr. Warner and
myself selected our gift lots and intend commencing our
improvements soon, and when we are obliged to leave our present
boarding house we shall keep house by ourselves. We may have to
leave when Mrs. E. commences housecleaning, as she thinks of
visiting her friends in Wisconsin this summer. As long as they
keep anyone, Mr. Warner and myself can stay.

The traveling has so much improved across the State of Iowa, Mr.
Cook got his letter today which he usually gets on Mondays. I have
been seven weeks away and got one letter. I was to have one every
week when I left. Think not because I write every day and you
know every act of mine of interest, and know that I am well, that I
have no interest in hearing occasionally from home. I will,
however, stop my complainings and say no more about your not
writing. Act your own pleasure. And at the same time remember I
am not where I can pass my time as pleasantly as among relatives
and friends-but on the borders of civilization with but little to
relieve the monotony of pioneer life.

Sunday, April 26

We have a cold raw wind from the north making it unpleasant
out-of-doors, and I have been content to remain within today,
reading "The Hills of the Shatemuc."

The first bell in Nebraska was hung yesterday on the Methodist
church, and today we have "The sound of a churchgoing bell." It is
a small affair and sounds like the market bell of Buffalo, but will
answer for Omaha. We shall have one worth hearing on the
Presbyterian church we are to build in Saratoga this summer. Br.
Cook called down this evening and spent an hour or two.

Monday, April 27

Nothing of importance today other than the acceptance of my
proposition by the Saratoga Company. Went up and staked out my
lot. A delightful day.

Tuesday, April 28

Spent the day in the Saratoga enterprise. Have partially agreed to
put up a warehouse in Saratoga. The steamer St. Mary's is up
today. Received a letter from Cousin Benjamin of Memphis. The
family were greatly disappointed at not seeing me there as I wrote
them. Some of the family waited home two weeks for me. We
have had a summer day this. We have no springs here. It steps at
once from winter to summer.

Wednesday, April 29

Took Mr. Estabrook's horse and buggy and rode down some six or
eight miles to a sawmill where there was oak timber and ordered
some fence posts sawed for my Saratoga lots, where I am to put up
a cabin. The buggy ride was over a most delightful country having
a variety of prairie and timberland. I went alone and had all
pleasure to myself. Some of the farmers on the route are living in a
hole in the ground for want of time to build better dwellings. The
farmers are destined to become wealthy if they half work, as their
land will yield the greatest abundance and they have a market
almost at their own door. What a wonderful change has taken
place on this side of the river in three years.

Got home from the mill to a late dinner; spent the afternoon in
figuring.

Thursday, April 30

Have passed a very unpleasant night. Soon after going to bed last
evening, I went to sleep and awoke again in an hour after. I had
dreamed I was, as I am, far away from home. Intelligence reached
me of the death and burial of Sophia. My mind was so troubled it
was a long while before I could get to sleep again, and when I did
sleep my dreams were the same. My brother Frank came to tell me
what I had before heard of, Sophia's death. Then one after another
came my relatives to sympathize with me. At last came Mate, who
like the others told me the circumstances and expressed much
sympathy. All, however, looked upon [me] as the only mourner.

I awoke as many as a dozen times during the night, but as soon as I
got to sleep again, the dreams haunted me, and so great was my
grief I would awake again but could not keep awake. There is a
great deal of scarlet fever here and there has a number of children
died with it. We were talking of it yesterday afternoon. I suppose
that is one cause of dreaming as I did. My mind is this morning in
Buffalo.

The steamer E. H. Gordon is up from St. Louis. I am now going
down to see what is on board.

Found the Gordon well-loaded with grain and lumber, also brought
up some one hundred Danes bound for Salt Lake to join the
Mormons.

Between eight and nine o'clock, a slow drizzling rain from the
northeast set in, and we have had a northeaster all day. The rain is
just what is wanted here. I only went out when the Great Eastern
mail came in. And I got at the post office-What do you think? A
letter! No! Fifty cents worth of postage stamps and the Herald of
Freedom from Mr. Brown. A gloomy, lonesome day.

 8 - "Such Business Will Pay"

Omaha, Nebraska--May 1-9.

My imagination reared a little cottage there and peopled it with my
family-the children chasing gophers in the wild prairie grass; my
wife reading a letter from the East; myself in the doorway in my
easy chair, watching the steamers coming up the river . . .

 Friday, May 1

 

The storm which was raging last night at bed time, spent its fury
before morning and the sun rose clear, with a fair prospect of one
of the finest days of the season. After breakfast, went up to the
office to mail some papers and found four numbers of The Home
for Mr. Hall who works for Cook. I never saw The Home look so
well. Its familiar face wore a happy smile. It seems better printed
and on better paper than it used to be. I presume that is occasioned
by the distance it is from the office where it emanates, as printing
offices are never the neatest places in the world. I feel a stronger
attachment for The Home than I ever did before. The articles seem
improved and the magazine generally wears an air of prosperity. I
hope it will be sufficiently remunerative to warrant its continuance
by its present publishers. It is one of the best publications, if not
the very best in the country, and it must and will continue to be
appreciated and its circulation extended. It is an honor to the
publishers and I wish my name might remain as one of the
publishers, if only in name alone.

Saturday, May 2

Went over to Council Bluffs with Mr. Estabrook, his family and
Judge Wakely. Went in the family carriage. I found no taxes had
been as yet assessed on our Iowa lands. Went alone up on the
highest bluff, by the burying ground, where is a most splendid
prospect, comprising in one view St. Mary's twelve miles below,
Omaha, Saratoga, and Florence opposite. From this point I intend
taking a bird's eye view of the Trio City, the Great City of the
"Great West."

At Bluff City I met Hubbel Kelley, who used to be one of my
school- and playmates when I was the age little Irwin is now, and
went to school on "Whipple Hill." We have met but once or twice
since that time. I recognized him by the peculiarity of his voice. He
has been here but a few days has come out West to seek a position.
We had a long talk of old times.

I also met at the Bluffs S. M. Hall of Van Water's poetical
Geographia fame. He had hunted for me all the morning at Omaha,
decided to return to Omaha, where we met at five o'clock. Mr. Hall
got a buggy and we had the finest ride imaginable over the
Saratoga plat. Mr. Hall thinks of purchasing a share if he can get
one. He was delighted with the location.

Just as we crossed the ferry between four and five o'clock on our
return from the Bluffs, the steamer Silver Heels came up with
colors flying and a band of music which was animating in the
extreme. She gives a dance to the Omaha people this evening,
taking them on board and going up to Florence by moonlight, there
finishing the dance and returning tomorrow morning.

The steamer Hannibal came up during the night and was laying at
our levee this morning. She had on board 200 Danes going to join
the Mormons. Her cargo was mostly lumber; we can now get pine
siding for $50 per thousand, planed and matched pine flooring
[for] $65 per thousand, and pine shingles for $7.50 per thousand.
This is cheaper than we ever expected to get pine lumber here. It
will probably be the standard price and is cheap enough.

Among the wonders of Bluff City, I saw an old Mormon, 80 years
of age, who is sensible on all subjects but one, and that one is that
he will live two or three hundred years yet and raise a large family
of children. He is a widower now. He once married the widow of
Morgan who was said to be murdered by the Masons during the
great Anti-Masonic times, which I can but just remember.

It is evening, a delightful one, and the closing in of a delightful
day. The Silver Heels has started up the river with her load of
merry dancers. I had no desire to be one of the company, still it is
almost too pleasant to stay in the house. But I will go to bed, and
see what a tomorrow will bring forth.

Sunday morning, May 3

The steamer Emma came up during the night. I got up early and
went down on board, found a friend of Mr. Leidy, whose
acquaintance I made while here last fall. He tells me Mr. Leidy
and family are at Davenport, going to come around by St. Louis
and bring up a ready-made house. I shall be pleased to see him and
his family. He seems an old acquaintance.

The Silver Heels returned this morning and our levee looks quite
businesslike with three steamers in port besides the ferryboat. 

Just ready for church. Waiting for the second bell. Another
steamer has just reached our levee, making four here this morning.
The Silver Heels and Hannibal are starting down. From the
window where I board we can see all the movements of the boats,
every arrival and departure. Mr. Estabrook coming in reports the
last boat to be the Asa Wilgus and is going up as far as Sioux City.

Have been to church for the first time in Nebraska. Listened to a
discourse by Mr. Gaylord, old-school Presbyterian. Like him very
well.

But for the breeze which is blowing freshly from the south, we
should have a very hot day. As it is, it is the hottest of the season.
Immediately after dinner I took off my coat and boots, put on
slippers and wrapper, and straightened out on the lounge to take
my ease. The door stood wide open and I had a fine view of the
boats at the levee and up the river for miles. The view also
comprised a greater part of Saratoga, the most prominent feature
of which is the spot I have selected near the spring. My
imagination reared a little cottage there and peopled it with my
family-the children chasing gophers in the wild prairie grass; my
wife reading a letter from the East; myself in the doorway in my
easy chair, watching the steamers coming up the river, or with my
spyglass peeping into Mr. Estabrook's where I now am. This
pleasant reverie was broken up by Mr. Hall's hurrying in for a
share of Saratoga. The boat was to leave in twenty-five minutes; he
had the promise of one tomorrow, but could not wait. I gave him
mine and he counted me out the gold. It made a rich handful for
both of my hands. I shall get another tomorrow and hope to make a
few dollars on it. Mr. Hall left in a hurry to return with a house.

Monday, May 4

Waited around town for the arrival of the mail, which was a heavy
one. It brought nothing for me. Tried to find a share of Saratoga at
my own price; think I shall get one for a little less than the one I
sold.

This evening had a fine April shower accompanied with thunder
and lightning. Spent the evening in drawing plans for my business
house or place. At bedtime the steamer Emigrant came in from St.
Louis.

Tuesday, May 5

Finished drawing my plans and went up to Saratoga to meet the
surveyors, but did not find them. Selected two lots for men to build
on, who had just come in on the boat. Returned to Omaha just
before noon, and as usual repaired at once to the Post Office. Got
two papers, an Express and Republic, from Robert. Met Mr. Cook,
who told me he had taken out letters for me and given them to Mr.
Estabrook. When Mr. E. came down to dinner he was disposed to
have a little sport with me as I had been complaining so long about
not getting letters, but the fact of my having heard he had the
letters prevented the anticipated sport at my expence. One letter
was from Brother Frank, another enclosed one from my wife, son,
and daughter each-all of which was read with the deepest interest
and proved very exhilarating, inspiring me with renewed energy.
Answered letters in the afternoon.

Wednesday, May 6

According to previous arrangements, hired a team to go down after
my fence posts. Found them not touched. The proprietor of the
mill sent me word once they would not be done as first promised,
but would be done this day sure. I had hired a team, been to all the
expense, and without gaining anything. This is characteristic of
business in Nebraska. We want more prompt, energetic working
business men here than we have. It is just the place for such men
to make money.

I do not expect now to get my posts, as I will not go alter them
again or pay more for them delivered than I was to get them for at
the mail. It is getting late for a garden and I can do without a fence
at present.

My trip to the mill was not wholly without interest as we saw some
sights new to me: a prairie squirrel, a snake five feet long, and a
wild turkey. When we saw the turkey, we were on the bottoms
near the mill in the timber. It was a large gobbler and ran across
the road ahead of us and up the bank. If I had had a shotgun I could
have killed it. Fired four charges from my revolver at him. The
distance was too far to have the balls take effect even if they had
hit him. At the mill, they informed us the wild turkeys were plenty
in the vicinity. Could hear them every morning about daylight.
What a chance for sporting-wild ducks are as plenty as sparrows in
the east.

About dark this evening, the steamer Washington City came in
three weeks from St. Louis-is a lower Mississippi boat and too
large for the upper trade. There is some talk here this evening
about purchasing it and keeping it as a hotel at our levee. The boat
had on 50,000 feet lumber and some shingles, also a good supply
of passengers, 75 of which are bound to St. Johns, a Catholic
colony near Sioux City, to which place their fare is paid. The
captain refuses to go farther and the passengers insist he must or
refund their money. What the result will be we cannot tell.

Thursday, May 7

This day's mail brought me a letter and two papers from Mr.
Adams-the Republic and the Advocate. I think Mr. Robe's hits Mr.
Lathrop rather hard. Answered Robert's letter and attended a
meeting of the Sulphur Spring Land Co. The Company refused to
ratify the proposition accepted from me by the donating
committee, on the ground that they had refused heretofore by a
vote to donate any lots in the block from which I made my
selections. They were pleased with my project and proposition and
appointed Mr. Wm. G. Brown to negotiate with me on even more
liberal terms in some other quarter. I refuse, however, to negotiate
on any terms as I have now abandoned the project entirely and am
glad the matter has taken the turn it has. Purchased a share of
Saratoga to replace the one I let Mr. Hall have. Made something
(#oll.) by the operation. Agreed to go over the river in the morning
and set some men to work on, and superintend the building of a
large flatboat for ferrying over teams and wood for the brick
makers. The flatboat is for the company, who furnish one thousand
cord of wood for the brick men. The company have contracted
2,000,000 brick to be made this season.

Owing to the absence of Mr. Tuttle, the drawing is again
postponed and will not come off until next Thursday the 14th. No
further postponement will be made even if Mr. Tuttle should not
arrive. The steamer Washington was bought today for $15,000 for
a hotel.

Friday, May 8

During last night we had a fine thundershower. This morning it is
clear and warm, the wind blowing a gale from the south. The wind
has blowed harder today than any day since I have been here. Still
it has been oppressively hot all day, and by noon the dust began to
fly, which together with the glaring sun and hot air from the oven
down south, has made it very unpleasant out of doors. The
ferryboat has not ventured out until since sundown so that it was
not possible to go over to see about the flatboat. The ferryboat
being delayed has prevented our receiving a mail today.

Saturday, May 9

The south wind which went down with the sun last evening
changed about and this morning was in the north. By nine o'clock
it was in the northwest and blew nearly as hard as yesterday. The
ferryboat only made one trip for the mail, and that with difficulty.
Went up to Saratoga, found men at work grading Pacific avenue
down the beach on to the bottom. After dinner signed papers for
one of the gift lots on Saratoga Avenue and assisted Mr. Brown in
preparing for the drawing. I think I never witnessed such a change
in the weather under a bright sun. Yesterday the thermometer went
up to 80; today it is almost freezing cold, making a fire necessary
for comfort. Still, the sun is shining as bright as it did yesterday.
The change is owing to the wind being in a different quarter.

Saturday night has come again. It is to me the most lonesome
evening of the week, and one which I long to be at home to spend.
I must not dwell too much upon home, for there will doubtless be
many long weeks before I can again be with my family.

Mr. Warner sold two lots-which he paid $110 for not quite a year
ago-for $600. Such business will pay.

 9 - Corax

Omaha, Nebraska--May 10-16.

What he could not speak in English he made known by signs,
which were made the most graceful and almost seemed to speak.

 Sunday, May 10 

The wind has blown but little today. Still it is cold and a fire very
comfortable. Wrote during the forenoon to Irwin and Sophia. After
lunch, rode up to Saratoga with Mr. Estabrook and family, after
which I wrote Sister Sarah. Just as I finished the letter, some
Indians came to the house with two ponies. The Indians were
acquainted with Mr. Estabrook. The party consisted of a chief, his
squaw, and two of his children, the oldest a squaw as large as her
mother, the other a boy about 14 years old. The chief's name is
Corax-belongs to the Pawnee tribe and is their war chief. He is the
best-looking Pawnee I have seen, is six feet tall and well
proportioned, speaks very little English. He says "Mr. Estabrook
good semokaman," meaning white man.

The chief had on moccasins, leggings, breech-cloth, and a large
Buffalo skin held on by a band across his shoulders. This
completed his clothing. He carried a large bow and quiver of
arrows, ornaments in his ears and on his head. He let his robe fall
down to his waist, leaving his back breast and arms perfectly
naked, giving him a noble look as he stood up erect, his hands
crossed in front of him. What he could not speak in English he
made known by signs, which were made the most graceful and
almost seemed to speak. They were so plain anyone could
understand them. He was given some supper on a separate table,
after which he called in his squaws and boy to eat, then went away. 

After tea, we were in the parlor. The family were singing and Mr.
E. playing on his violin when Mr. Chief walked in and took his
seat on the lounge with the rest. What a contrast and the same time
how noble he looked.

Monday, May 11

This day was advertised for the sale of Park lots to complete the
Capitol. The sale did not commence until 4 o'clock p.m. Six lots
were sold for some over $6,000, which was not what was expected
they would bring. Accordingly, the sale was adjourned to some
future day when the balance will be sold. Mr. Warner wishing to
attend the sale, nothing else was done.

Steamer Admiral up from St. Louis.

Our Chief and his family were admitted into the kitchen last night
where they slept on the floor.

Tuesday, May 12

Devoted the forenoon to going over into Iowa on business
connected with the flatboat. Afternoon rainy. In accordance with a
previous arrangement went up at 10 p.m. to sit up with Mr.
Goodwill who is very low with typhoid fever. Other persons were
there and my services were not required. Returned as I went, in the
midst of a drenching rain, which wet my clothing through to my
skin in many places

Wednesday, May 13

Not well this morning. Have symptoms of my old complaint. It has
rained all night and is dark and lowry but warm. Vegetation looks
fine.

The Chief and his family are still in the vicinity. Corax has
swapped his Buffa