February, 1919 
WISCONSIN HORTICULTURE 
71 
The Promised Land. 
The young people of today, men 
and women of fifty to sixty years, 
can recall first-hand stories told 
them by “forty-niners,” men who 
accomplished a journey of 3,000 
miles across plains, deserts and 
mountains, a land uninhabited ex- 
cept by coyotes, rattlesnakes and 
hostile savages. The journey re- 
corded in Exodus was a pleasure 
trip in comparison, and the Cru- 
sades a Sabbath day’s journey. It 
required courage of a high order 
to undertake such a trip. Geo. J. 
Kellogg not only made this jour- 
ney, but kept a diary of the entire 
trip and at our annual banquet a 
few years ago gave us an account 
of it. Here it is : 
At the age of twenty-one I left 
Southport (now Kenosha. Wis.) 
and crossed Wisconsin by stage, 
188 miles. On April 5th I joined 
a party with five yoke of cattle in 
Jo. Daviess county, Illinois. The 
roads were bad and the 42 miles 1o 
Clinton, Iowa, were covered under 
difficulties. The distance from 
Clinton to Omaha was 308 mile . 
and we were frequently stuck in 
the mud which seemed seven feet 
deep. It took eleven yoke of oxen 
to pull us out and yet we had 
taken on but few supplies. 
At one camp in Iowa we turned 
our oxen into an unhusked com 
field at a few cents per head a 
day. During our halt here I 
killed a wild turkey and a deer. 
They had to tie me up that night. 
On May 25th we crossed to Omaha 
on a ferry, allowing the cattle to 
swim across. Indians were plenti- 
ful and we organized a company 
of forty-two wagons and stood 
guard in Omaha. On May 25th 
we pulled out for the plains, cross- 
ing the Elkhorn on a log raft. 
Realizing that the company was 
too large with ten wagons, we 
pulled out and followed the Mor- 
mon trail by guide book. 
June 2nd crossed the Loup, one- 
half mile wide, three feet deep. 
Wet our bedding and provisions; 
lay by to dry out. Saw so many 
Indians one day we sent out a 
guard for our hunters back in the 
hills, who frequently brought in 
antelope. Hail stones two inches 
in diameter fell. Got our first 
Buffalo meat — 315 miles out. 
Oeu. J. Kellogg and his Long-field Apple Tree. 
June 13th saw a buffalo chase 
and capture. Platte bottoms 
badly cut up with wagons and 
grass all gone. Mosquitoes bad. 
Met mail wagon and sent letter 
home. 
June 27th left for Ft. Laramie. 
Everybody throwing away pork, 
flour, and everything, even sta- 
tionery, to lighten loads. Often 
we found newly made graves 
along the trail. We traveled 
down a hill five miles long. 
July 1st met a team going back 
to America, 638 miles. We had 
some of the worst west winds I 
ever saw and air and water was 
polluted. There were forty dead 
cattle in sight at one time. One 
team of six oxen lay where light- 
ning had struck them — not a 
chain unhitched. 
July lltli we reached Independ- 
ence Rock, named by Fremont, 
723 miles out. Thousands of 
names engraved. First sight of 
snow peaks of the Rockies, al- 
though some were willing to bet it 
was not snow. 
July 19th crossed South Pass. 
Guild hardly tell when we 
reached the summit of the Rocky 
mountains — 824 miles from Oma- 
ha to forks of Oregon, California 
and Salt Lake roads. We went 
by way of Bear river and Steam- 
boat spring, over lava beds and 
around extinct volcanoes. 
Aug. 7. From Bear Mountain 
we saw Salt Lake, hunted Grizz- 
lies, passed Castle Rock and 
Castle Hotel which were from 50 
to 400 feet high. We let our wa- 
gons down a mountain by ropes, 
passed boiling hot springs hardly 
out of sight of trains or dead 
cattle. 
Aug. 20 reached Humbolt river, 
1,331 miles out. Ice was a half an 
inch thick. All trains that had 
trouble with the Mormons at Salt 
Lake had cattle stampeded for 300 
miles by Indians or Mormons. We 
passed three Indians catching and 
eating frogs and grasshoppers and 
next morning found five arrows in 
two of our oxen which penetrated 
the pounch, food oozing out of the 
wounds. We drove these oxen be- 
hind the wagons and Mr. Indian 
lost his beef. The oxen were 
chained to the wagons and we had 
to guard that night. Human na- 
ture out-cropped when outside all 
law and civilization. Sutton and 
his wife had a few words, sawed 
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