Pioneer Story 31, Robert Reeder (Willie Company)

"Being moved by the spirit of gathering, my father, David Reeder, my sister Caroline, age 17, my sister Eliza and her husband, James Hurren, with their three little girls from ages 2 to 8 years old, and myself, age 19, started for Liverpool, where we met with others from different parts. There were 721 persons very much on the same errand, when we sailed out on the great ocean.

"On the 5th of May 1856, we sailed on the great ocean which took us a little over 6 weeks to cross. I was very sick on the way and could not eat such food as they had on "seafare" which consisted of what they called sea biscuits and salt pork and salt beef, also brown sugar and vinegar and very little other food.

"I got very feeble living principally on sugar and vinegar for 3 weeks. (It was reported that when he arrived in New York, he was so weak through the hardships of the voyage that he could not walk without assistance).

"I was very glad when we arrived at Castle Gardens, New York, where we could get a piece of bread once more. We rested here for a few days then we pursued our journey by railroad and steamboats, changing from one to the other until we arrived at Iowa camping ground where we had to lay over 3 or 4 weeks waiting for our outfits.

"The Church had a herd of cattle there which was at the time a general fitting out place. While laying over we had to herd those cattle night and day. There were lots of us to change off if all would have taken a part, but it was a very rainy country and some would not take their part, especially in the night time. I can well remember those who had charge used to come to us and say, "Will you go and herd again tonight as we cannot get anyone else to go."

"My father and I and my brotherin-law, James Hurren have gone 3 or 4 nights out of a week in the pouring rain, wet through from head to foot and in the water part of the time up to our knees, anything to help get fitted out and started on the road.

"Eventually we got our outfits of 4 wagons with ox team, loaded with flour which was calculated to take us to Salt Lake City making calculations for 60 days and one pound of flour for each grown person per day and half that for all children under 12 years of age. Beside that, we had one wagon with 4 mules loaded with bacon and groceries for the trip and one saddle pony belonging to an elder returning home which was used for hunting camp grounds, and the rest were handcarts about 120 of them.

"As a general rule, one handcart to each family and in some cases, two young men and two young women per handcart. Those with handcarts were loaded with their baggage and children that were unable to walk. The company comprised of about 500 people.

"In this way we traveled to what was called Florence, this side of the Missouri River. We were again detained, waiting for some Independence emigrants who wanted to travel with us as it was very dangerous to cross the Plains in those times one thousand miles of wild Indian country.

"There was one outfit belonging to A.W. Babbit and consisting, I think, of about 5 men, 1 woman, and 1 child about 3 or 4 years old, concluded to start 2 or 3 days before we were ready. I think we left this place about the 20th of Sept with an addition to our outfit of about 30 head of cows, some to give milk, other to kill for beef.

"Our company came to where the Babbit Company had camped the the Indians having killed them all and burned their wagons, nothing being left only the irons and the bodies half buried. This looked very discouraging to us but we traveled on looking back for nothing. We were surrounded by Indians on two or three occasions, but we got out by giving them some flour and tobacco which some of our company had with them.

"When we got out about 300 miles on the road, our cattle stampeded, most all of our best oxen leaving, which left us in a bad state to move on any father. We stayed there for several days hunting as far as we dared to go to find some of our cattle, but could not find any, believing the Indians must have driven them away.

"Some of the flour was taken out of the wagons and put on the handcarts according to the strength of the party drawing them. Some had one (sack), others had two or three. And if my memory serves me right, Brother Hurren, being considered the strongest man the company had, had five sacks put on his cart besides two small girls that were not able to walk and all his baggage and cooking utensils. His wife, my sister Eliza, helped in pulling the cart and walked the entire trail.

"We made up with the few cattle we had left, - one yoke of cattle and one cow to each wagon, and on account of weak teams and handcarts loaded too heavy, we traveled only a few miles each day. Our provisions were going fast while we were making but little headway. Our rations had had to be cut down half and some (people) were sick with bowel and other sickness.

"My father, David Reeder, would start out in the morning and pull his cart until he would drop on the road. He did this day after day until he did not rise early October 7, 1856. He was found dead in his bed and his fellow bed mate had not heard anything all during the night.

"Sister Eliza wrapped a cherished sheet around him and we placed him in a shallow grave, hoping wolves would not disturb. We must be on our way in silent mourning and in a weakened condition.

"Our rations were growing shorter and we reduced them by common consent from day to day. Nights were getting colder and some would sit down by the roadside and die.

"My younger sister, Caroline, 17 years old, after traveling all day and seeing the camp being made for the night, took her apron to tie some sage brush in to bring into camp. She sat down to rest, leaning on her bundle, exhausted. They found her chilled and dying and carried her to camp. She died that night, not gaining consciousness.

"She died the evening of 15 October, 1856. She too, was placed in an unmarked grave near Three Crossings, Sweetwater. Her death was another real loss to us but we must hurry on in threatening weather and colder nights on the Windriver Pass. I think fully 100 died on this trip.

"On Oct 17, we awoke covered with 8 inches of snow and rations about gone. We pulled our carts 16 miles in the blinding snowstorm and arrived at Rock Creek where we sheltered against the hill as best we could to avoid the north wind and blowing snow. Weakened to such an extent and without food, 13 died that night. All the able-bodied men dug one large grave, but not too deep.

"My brother-in-law, James Hurren, held his 8-year old girl, Mary, to see her little playmate lying among the dead. They were laid in the clothes they wore, in a circle with feet to the center and heads out. We covered them with willows and then earth and slid rocks down the hill to keep the wolves from disturbing them.

"Two of the men who helped dig the graves, died that night and were buried near by. We could go no further. The weather was severe and we had not a morsel of food in camp. We had heard that assistance was on the road and we still had hope.

"We had one pony and one mule that were not entirely exhausted and two of the men took these animals and started out to find some relief, which they did after going to Pacific Springs. The relief party had laid over there because of the storm, not knowing the dire distress which the handcart company was in at that time. When they heard the report, they left part of the wagons, doubled up teams and came to us as quickly as possible.

They reached us after we had been in camp 48 hours. They dared not give us food for fear of killing us all, which would most likely have done. For food we had been using rawhide. I myself sat by the campfire with Brother Hurren and scraped and singed the hair off a piece of hide, some that had been taken from discarded handcarts. It was hard but we would boil and soften them and cut them up in small pieces and put in our pockets to chew on the road the next day. It helped to keep life in us.

"Through snow and wind we mostly walked behind the relief wagons about 300 miles to Salt Lake City and arrived on Public Square November 9, 1856. We stopped for about 2 hours and many of the church officials came and talked with us. Then we were given over to the bishops of the different wards. Each bishop took a few, some they saw got some kind of pay for their keep during the winter.