We had to wait six weeks in St. Jo for the rest of the company, my grandmother, Harriet (Burbank) Darrow, my Aunt Emma (Darrow) Carson, and her husband, John Carson, with baby Frank Carson. Uncle John made his wagon, and mother wove the cover. We started out on the first of April 1853, with eleven other wagons. It took us three months to cross the plains. We all walked a good part of the way, as our team was rather weak for our load.

In crossing the North fork of the Platte River, our wagon tipped over and I was taken out for dead. My father was frightened, thinking I was dead, dropped the Camphor bottle, and the strong stuff running into my mouth and nose, found a spark of life, and I was saved.

We saw lots of buffalo, prairie dogs, and Indians. Our company shot three buffalo so we had lots of meat. Once while traveling up the Platte, we had to stop for over one hour for a herd of buffalo to pass us. They travel in single file and would fight before breaking file. Some of the company estimated them at five hundred.

We saw many graves where the emigrants the year before had lost loved ones. The wolves had dug into lots of the graves and you could see bones, hair and bits of clothing that the dead were buried in scattered around. As they could not get coffins, many of the dead had been wrapped in quilts, or anything that the emigrants could spare. Some took parts of their wagon boxes and made rude coffins of them. How different now in 1908!

When we got to the Big Sandy River our best ox died, and we did not know what to do. Finally, Reverend Whitworth advised Father to come into Utah for the winter, then get another ox and come to Oregon the next spring. He said he thought we could get along with the Mormons for one winter if we were careful. We knew nothing about the Mormons, except the vile stories told by their enemies, but as there seemed no other recourse, Father and Mother decided to do the best they could. We bade farewell to friends and dear ones at Sublett’s cutoff. My grandmother, aunt and uncle and little cousin, all went on and we started out alone through hostile Indian country. But the Lord protected us and we never saw an Indian in the three long weeks we spent before reaching Salt Lake City 3 August 1853. We had spent three weeks going one hundred sixty miles.

We went out to Gaunt’s carding mill on West Jordan, ten miles south of Salt Lake City, where Mother got work. Father worked a mile above Gardner’s saw mill. While living there, my Fathter and Mother were converted to Mormonism by Ralph Thompson, father-in-law of Willliam S. Godbe.