THE STORY

No one can say when it began. A thousand little rivulets of water trickling downhill go unnoticed until they merge into a thundering river. So it was at the beginning of the greatest mass migration of people that this country, or any other, has ever known. There was only one way to go: west. West to farmlands in Ohio, west along the Erie Canal to the Great Lakes, west to the tributaries of the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, and west to the rolling hills of Kentucky.

By 1825, steamboats were plying the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, and the states of Michigan, Illinois, and Indiana were considered settled. Settlers pushed west into Iowa and Missouri until, by 1830, Independence, Missouri, then the westernmost post office in the United States, defined the boundary of the frontier.

Independence was on the very threshold of the frontier, and for more than a decade it remained the focal point for the western march of the pioneers. Independence was ideally situated for such a role. It was three miles south of the big bend in the Missouri River, where, after flowing southeast for 2000 miles from its headwaters in the Rocky Mountains, the great river changed direction and flowed due east to join the Mississippi a few miles north of St. Louis. A few miles to the west began the vast undulating prairies and high plains that stretched unbroken to the distant Rockies.

With the lands east of the Mississippi settled, adventurers, either by choice or compulsion, gravitated to an even newer frontierthe lands west of the Mississippi. Like their fathers, they were traders, trappers, hunters, and explorersalmost certainly not farmers or settlers.

An early lure of the west was the lower Rio Grande, where inexpensive Spanish and Mexican linens and fabrics could be bought from Spanish traders. New England textile merchants smacked their lips at the thought of profits from capturing that trade. Trade with various Indian tribes was also of interest, and by 1825 a regular route across the Kansas prairie, along the Arkansas and Purgatoire Rivers, and across the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, had been established from Independence to Santa Fe, New Mexico. This, the first of the major trails west, was known as the Santa Fe Trail.

By 1830, adventurers had started looking westward to destinations other than New Mexico. In 1831, Joseph Smith, Jr., set out from Independence and, upon reaching what is now Salt Lake City, declared, "This is the place." Tens of thousands of Mormons followed in his footsteps over the next three decades to escape religious persecution in Ohio and Missouri.

Meanwhile, Stephen Watts Kearney, a determined U.S. Army general, had pushed west over a southern route from Santa Fe through Arizona to San Diego, and other people had extended the northern trails west across the mountains to San Francisco (the Overland Trail) and to Willamette Valley (the Oregon Trail). In addition, steamboats of the American Fur Company had been able to navigate up the Missouri as far as Fort Pierre, South Dakota, while smaller vessels had gotten to Fort Benton, Montana. To cement its foothold, this privately owned company was busy establishing outposts and forts throughout the northern states.

Independence, absorbed with the Santa Fe trade to the south and the fur trade to the north, had paid little attention to the trickle of emigrants who, for several years, had been setting out for California and Oregon. However, as glowing reports began to come back from the early pioneers, the trickle swelled to a flood900 emigrants left Independence in 1843, 3000 in 1845, and more than 5000 in 1847. These new pioneers bore little resemblance to the traders plying the Santa Fe Trail or to the trappers in the North. They were men of the land, traveling with their wives and children. They were movers, but they had a destination, a promised land called Oregonabout which they knew as little as they knew about the road that would take them there.

Historically, the Conestoga wagon, which originated in eastern Pennsylvania, has always been associated with the great migration to Oregon and is depicted in scores of paintings. The truth, however, is much less colorful. The Conestoga wagon was in fact far too heavy for the long haul across the prairies and mountains, and a flatbed farm wagon, sometimes fitted with high wheels and a tent of waterproof sheeting, was generally the transport of choice. Such a wagon, sometimes called a Murphy wagon, required a team of six to ten mules or oxen to pull it when heavily laden. Most families also had a cow or two, a saddle horse, and a plow lashed to the rear of the wagon.

A bare-bones Murphy wagon cost about $50 to $70; high wheels, a waterproof covering, yokes, harnesses, and spare parts could bring the total cost up to $100. A team of two oxen cost about $25; most travelers bought six to ten animals. Although horse teams could travel faster than oxen, ox teams were sturdy, dependable, and less likely to be stolen by Indians. And if worst came to worst and food ran out, the oxen could be eaten.

A guidebook of the time recommended the following food supplies for one adult for the five- to six-month journey: 150 lbs. of flour, 25 lbs. of bacon or pork, 15 lbs. of coffee, 25 lbs. of sugar, and smaller quantities of rice, beans, dried fruit, molasses, vinegar, salt, pepper, tea, spices, and baking soda. Also on the recommended list were tobacco, soap, whiskey, medicines, and matches.

It was essential that the wagon carry spare parts and tools such as oxen yokes, harnesses, lead bars, open chain links, horseshoes, nails, ropes, hammers, axes, mallets, saws, and spades. Tar buckets were also necessary, some filled with resin and grease to use on the axles, and others filled with tar to seal and waterproof the wagon before fording or floating it across a river.

When they arrived in Independence, most families already had some supplies and clothing. However, tales of harsh weather in the mountains inspired all but the most foolhardy travelers to procure additional warm clothing.

For protection as well as hunting, travelers carried breech loading rifles, Colt revolvers, and a plentiful supply of ammunition. Most also took along mirrors, ribbons, cloth, tobacco, and assorted trinkets for trading with the Indians.

Most families joined others in Independence and made up wagon trains of from four to as many as 100 wagons. Each season, the first of these trains set out as soon as the winter snows melted and was followed by a steady stream of departures throughout the spring and into early summer.

The wagon trains usually went only a short distance the first day, making a sort of trial run. While they were still close to Independence, the men could ride back if necessary to buy supplies that had been forgotten.

The first weeks of travel in the spring were generally very difficult. The men frequently were not experienced at handling teams, wagons, or weapons. The snows had just melted, so the trails were like mud bogs. Most families had no idea how to pack and wound up with dangerously top-heavy or unbalanced loads. Oxen became entangled in their ropes at night and sometimes, breaking free, wandered off.

The first stop for most travelers, usually reached in two or three days, was the Shawnee Methodist Mission only 15 miles from Independence. Once this was left behind, travelers would not see any signs of civilization for many long miles. After leaving the Mission, the wagon trains lumbered over the rolling prairie south of the Kansas River, following the deep ruts of the Santa Fe Trail as far as the present-day town of Gardner, Kansas. There a sign bore the simple legend "Road to Oregon."

From there on, the wagons kept to the high prairies as much as possible, although there were many streams and rivers to be crossed. The Wakarusa, Kansas, Red Vermillion, Black Vermillion, and Big Blue rivers were especially difficult for the travelers; smaller streams could be forded, but it was a daylong ordeal to cross a river. First, the wagons had to be unloaded and the joints and seams packed with tar. After that, they were let down the bank with ropes and floated across. Supplies were floated by makeshift raft or carried by horse. Frequently tools and heavier provisions slid into the river. After the oxen had crossed, they were taken to the top of the bank, harnessed by long ropes to the wagon, and, with them pulling and all the family members pushing, the wagon inched to the top of the bank.

Indians, particularly the Pawnee in the area of the Red Vermillion river, did not welcome the constant stream of white men crossing their hunting grounds. In 1849, for example, after a cholera epidemic for which the Indians blamed the whites, the Pawnee, Oglala, and Sioux began attacking wagon trains with great frequency. Wagons were particularly vulnerable when crossing rivers, so the Indians often chose fords for their attacks.

In a sense, the Indians were correct about the source of cholera. It had been carried from Asia to the U.S. by sailors and passengers on ships. It reached the frontier by way of New Orleans and the Mississippi and traveled west with the wagon trains. No amount of planning or preparation could save the settlers from this hazard. Afflicted with severe pain, vomiting, and cramps, a person might display the first symptoms in the morning and be dead by noon.

In 1852, Ezra Meeker kept a log and estimated that more than 5000 people had died of cholera on the trail that year.

Living in fear of disease, the emigrants were prone to dose themselves with large quantities of medicine at the first sign of any illness, on the theory that the larger the dose the quicker the recovery that might be expected. In fact, many patients were killed rather than cured by the injudicious use of medicine.

River crossings slowed the journey through Kansas and Nebraska, and most wagon trains took about three weeks to travel the 175 miles to the ford across the Big Blue River in southern Nebraska known as Independence Crossing. About six miles northwest of this crossing, trails from St. Joseph and Fort Leavenworth converged, thence following the Platte River to Fort Kearney. Having reached the Platte, the pioneers could follow its valley west, past Chimney Rock, Scott's Bluff, and to the last outposts of civilization, Fort Laramie and Fort Fetterman.

The Platte River marked the beginning of buffalo country, and few men missed the chance to enjoy some good hunting and to add to their food supply. Unfortunately, most of them had no idea how to preserve the meat. The animals were generally shot in midafternoon and left in the hot sun until sunset, when they were gutted. Perhaps one was roasted that night, but the rest were left unskinned and undivided to rot and provide a meal for the scavengers of the plain.

Along the North Platte River Valley, the wagons could generally make a speed of about two miles per hour, thus covering, in a good day, about 15 to 18 miles. If it had been possible to maintain this speed for the entire journey, the 2040 miles from Independence to Oregon City could have been covered in about 4 1/2 months. However, everything seemed to conspire to slow the trip: river crossings, Indian and bandit attacks, hunting, burying the dead, wagon breakdowns, muddy trails, oxen wandering off, and losing the trail.

Some wagon trains even rested on Sunday, observing it as a day of worship and, more often than not, repair.

Fort Laramie stood at the fork of the Laramie and North Platte rivers in eastern Wyoming. There the traveler had his first opportunity in many weeks to send letters home, buy provisions, and get information about the trail ahead. There, too, was a place to relax a bit from the constant caution so necessary on the march.

After Fort Laramie, the next objective was the Sweetwater River Valley in central Wyoming, the entrance to which was marked by Independence Rock, on which thousands of emigrants carved their names. "The Great Register of the Desert," Father Pierre Jean de Smet, a Jesuit missionary, called it. If things were going well, most travelers had reached the rock by July 4.

Looking west from Independence Rock, the emigrants could see, six miles in the distance, a V-shaped split in a rocky ridge known as Devil's Gate. The preferred route skirted Devil's Gate Canyon, but there was no question that it marked the beginning of a new and more difficult phase of the journey. Although there were many alternative routes to the Sweetwater Valley, all trails converged there for the long ascent to South Pass across the Continental Divide. Even in mid-July, the steep mountain walls often blocked the sun, and snow and ice frequently covered the ground. The ascent from the Sweetwater Valley was long and gradual, and the South Pass many miles in width. Hence the only real hindrances to good progress were the occasional snow and damage to wagon wheels from the rocky trail. The travelers, having left the boredom of the plains and knowing that they had reached the halfway point of the trip, were usually in good spirits as they entered South Pass.

Beyond the South Pass, the trail began a gradual but rocky descent of about 60 miles, across the Green River near the Wyoming-Idaho border. This crossing was an extremely dangerous one; the river was wide, deep, powerful, and ice cold. Those who successfully made this crossing were much relieved to follow the Bear River Valley for a way to Soda Springs, whence they headed northwest for 50 miles to Fort Hall, Idaho, on the Snake River. There they were forced to decide whether to continue on to Oregon or turn south to California.

Fort Hall was a welcome stop for the wagon trains. Originally built by Captain Nathaniel J. Wyeth of Boston in 1834, the fort offered needed supplies and protection from the hostile Blackfoot Indians. After leaving the fort, the trail crossed the Portneuf River and Bannock Creek and then passed the American Falls on the Snake River. This treacherous crossing led, a few miles on, to two enormous rocks known as Massacre Rocks because hostile Indians often used them as a place from which to ambush wagon trains.

The trail then followed the Snake River for some 300 miles as it traced its circuitous course across the barren, lava-covered Snake River Plains; it finally broke out of the canyon at the mouth of the Little Boise River near the Oregon border. As they crossed the Snake at Fort Boise, the travelers took their first steps in Oregon.

But one more barrier loomed between the settlers and the Promised Land: the terrible Blue Mountains. Several times during the crossing of these mountains, wagons had to be lowered with ropes from one part of the trail to another, and canyon walls too narrow for the wagons frequently had to be chipped away. Wagons were often abandoned, their occupants continuing the journey on foot. Others, searching for a better route, became hopelessly lost and eventually died of hunger and thirst.

John Kerns, in his diary, recorded this about the Blue Mountains: "it was the roughest road we have encountered on the journey, being up and down sidling mountains, into the brush and across a creek every 200 or 300 yards, and over stony places enough to hide all despairing sinners."

Those pioneers who traversed the final obstacle, Deadman's Pass, saw the trail emerge from the mountains and wind down the bald face of Emigrant Hill from which they were treated to one of the most spectacular views in the world. Mt. Hood and Mt. Adams could be seen in the distance, while in the foreground lay the rolling hills and fertile valleys of the Columbia River Basin.

From Walla Walla, Washington, on, still 250 miles across Oregon to the coastal settlements, most travelers kept going, driven by sheer exhilaration and determination. By all accounts, it was one of the most difficult parts of the journey. As Medorem Crawford, an emigrant traveler, recorded, "From Walla Walla to Willamette Falls (Oregon City) occupied about 20 days, and, all things considered, was the hardest part of the entire journeywhat with drifting sands, rocky cliffs, and rapid streams along the Columbia, and the gorges, torrents, and thickets of the Cascade Mountains, it seems incredible how, with our worn out and emaciated animals, we ever reached our destination." But many did, and they were well rewarded for their perseverance.

J.M. Shively, writer of one of the guidebooks about the trail, closed with the thought, "Be of good cheeryou will find a country in Oregon that will fill your desires, and repay you for all your toil."

