ON THE PLATTE, 



BY C. T. ALBOT. 



Love of hunting and adventure was 

 the main cause of my going to California 

 in 1849. I na d a farm of 3 2 5 acres in 

 central New York, 50 cows and a beau- 

 tiful home surrounded by groves, walks, 

 rustic bridges and a fish pond. The inof- 

 fensive rabbit, the woodcock and the ruf- 

 fed grouse lived in my shrubberies. I did 

 not owe a dollar. Kind and happy friends 

 surrounded me ; loving messages came to 

 me from over the sea. I bade all goodbye 

 and gave my gallant thoroughbred and 

 my faithful dog a parting caress. "Was 

 ever any madness equal to this? 1 ' I often 

 asked myself later, as I ran the gauntlet of 

 cholera, of hostile Indians and of acci- 

 dents. 



After much preparation at Independence, 

 Missouri, I rolled out from the settlements, 

 with the plains, the antelopes, the buf- 

 falo and mountain sublimity in anticipa- 

 tion. My outfit was 2 covered wagons, 6 yoke 

 of oxen, a cow and a gray mare. Near us, 

 though not in our company, journeyed Cap- 

 tain Gray and his Texas Rangers. At the 

 crossing of the Kansas river 3 men 

 claimed my cattle. They said they had been 

 stolen. Captain Gray, with a quick eye to 

 the comfort and safety of those around 

 him, took in my unfortunate situation at a 

 glance and came to my assistance. He 

 told the claimants the cattle should have 

 been rescued in Missouri, not on the 

 plains, and threatening anyone with vio- 

 lence who attempted to touch the oxen, 

 gave orders to the drivers of the trains to 

 move on. 



Captain Gray was a stalwart Western 

 man, over 6 feet tall and well proportioned. 

 He said he had been through the Mexican 

 war and the cholera, and that he was not 

 afraid of cholera. He died of it later and 

 was buried on the banks of the Platte. 

 Hearing he was sick, I went to see him 

 and at once realized that his case was hope- 

 less. We had already lost 14 of our com- 

 pany by cholera. This dire scourge pur- 

 sued the overland emigrants from the Mis- 

 sissippi to the top of the Rocky mountains. 

 On account of the captain's critical con- 

 dition, orders were given that our train 

 should lie over. Thereupon Lige Hurd, 

 who was a Kentuckian, a doctor from Vir- 

 ginia, a Senator from Tennessee and I 

 started to cross the Platte in search of 

 buffalo. We were near Fort Kearney, a 

 mud fort on a bare plain. At that place the 

 Platte expands its waters over the valley 



like an inland sea, and in the river are 

 many islands. It had been raining almost 

 incessantly and many of the islands were 

 half under water. Lige was a good horse- 

 man, a good shot and a good swimmer. 

 We started many deer by the splashing of 

 the water, but by carelessness we failed to 

 kill one. 



At one place above high water we came 

 to a deserted camp, which the Indians had 

 evidently used a number of winters. There 

 were the remains of fires and many bones of 

 different kinds of animals. Tied in some 

 low bushes were charms and scalps. The 

 charms appeared to be the seeds of 

 weeds tied in small pieces of buckskin. We 

 were soon out of our depth in the immense 

 body of water and every horse was swim- 

 ming. The roaring flood carried us a mile 

 down stream. My rifle, when on my 

 shoulder, made me top heavy ; when placed 

 across my saddle before me the water 

 struck one end or the other of it, endan- 

 gering my equilibrium. Being the leader, 

 I was the first to land on what we sup- 

 posed to be the North bank of the Platte. 

 However, we soon discovered that we 

 were on another large island, and after rid- 

 ing to the lower end of it we determined 

 to cross back again to camp. That was 

 not an easy thing to do. A little lower 

 down the stream was a small island which 

 made a bar from its upper point. That 

 bar, stretching up stream, was covered 

 with about 3 feet of water. Lige and I sat 

 on our horses looking on, while our com- 

 panions swam their horses in comparatively 

 still water until they reached the bar. Pass- 

 ing it, the angry torrent rolled them over, 

 men and horses going under water com- 

 pletely out of sight. Lige and I plunged 

 our horses into the water, reached the isl- 

 and, dismounted, dragged the doctor out 

 by the hair of his head and his mule by the 

 bridle. The doctor lost his rifle and it is 

 'at this moment at the bottom of the 

 Platte. The Senator landed lower down 

 and saved his rifle, but how I never could 

 imagine. 



Having neither matches nor anything 

 to eat, we turned our horses loose on the 

 island, and taking our saddles for pillow-, 

 we slept on the bare ground. The next 

 morning we awoke early and secured our 

 horses. The Doctor's and Senator's pow- 

 der was wet and one rifle was lost. Nev- 

 ertheless, we all agreed to keep on after 

 buffalo. We rode a few miles to the North 

 and came on 8 buffalo. The doctor and 



