A very large proportion of the people now residing in the Far West are descendants of emigrants who came by the precarious means afforded by ox-team conveyances. For some three-score years the younger generations have heard from the lips of their ancestors enough of that wonderful pilgrimage to create among them a widespread demand for a complete and typical narrative.This story consists of facts, with the real names of the actors in the drama. The events, gay, grave and tragic, are according to indelible recollections of eye-witnesses, including those of the Author.
ction, head to foot, in the severest weather.
The Indians of these tribes that we met were friendly, even to familiarity. One of them would approach an emigrant with a "glad-to-meet-you" air, extending a hand in what was intended to be "white-man" fashion. But "Mr. Lo" was a novice in the art of handshaking, and his awkwardness and mimicking attempts in the effort were as amusing to us as satisfactory, apparently, to him. His vocal greeting, with slight variation from time to time, was in such words--with little regard for their meaning--as he had caught from the ox-driving dialect of the passing emigrants: "Wo-haw-buck," "Hello, John, got tobac?" If he added "Gimme biskit," and "Pappoose heap sick," he had about reached the limit of his English vocabulary.
Large game was common along some parts of the way: buffalo, elk, antelope, deer, on the plains and hills; bear, mountain lions, wildcats and other species in the mountainous sections. They were shy and not