DAYS ON THE ROAD
Sarah Raymond Herndon (signature)
DAYS ON THE
ROAD
Crossing the Plains in 1865
BY
SARAH RAYMOND HERNDON
New York
BURR PRINTING HOUSE
1902
Copyright, 1902,
By Sarah Raymond Herndon.
DEDICATED TO
THE PIONEERS OF MONTANA AND
THE “GREAT WEST,”
Who Crossed the Plains in Wagons.
PREFACE.
I do not expect to gain fame or fortune bythe publication of this little book. I haveprepared it for publication, because a numberof the pioneers who read my journaltwenty years ago, when published in TheHusbandman, have asked me to.
At that time I was a busy wife, motherand housekeeper, and could only write whenmy baby boy was taking his daily nap, tosupply the copy for each week. No oneknows better than I how very imperfect itwas, yet many seemed to enjoy it, and thepress that noticed it at all spoke very kindlyof it.
S. R. H.
ix
REMINISCENCES OF THE PLAINS
BY DR. HOWARD.
Editor Husbandman.—Through yourkindness to Mrs. Howard, we are a readerof your excellent journal. Hence a fewmonths ago our eyes fell upon “Reminisencesof Pilgrimage Across the Plains in1865,” by S. R. H., and at once recognizedthe writer as the “lady who rode the gallantbay.” And now, sir, as we were an humblemember of the gallant McMahan train, frequentlyreferred to in her interesting journal,permit me through the columns of yourpaper to tender her the thanks and gratitude,not only of ourselves, but every survivingmember of that train, for affording us thepleasure of again traveling that eventfulroad without the fatigue and hardships of axlong and tiresome journey. And even now,after the lapse of fifteen years, to be so pleasantlyreminded of our “Gallant Bearing”and the confidence reposed in us for protection,while passing through the Indian country,we almost regret that the savages didnot give us a striking opportunity of displayingour prowess. It was our pleasureto form the acquaintance of the writer, ascorrectly stated, on the north bank of theSouth Platte, near the foot of Fremont’s Orchard.The present editor of the Husbandman,then a beardless youth, had been sufferingwith typho-malarial fever from thetime we left Nebraska City, and we visitedher camp (ostensibly) begging bread, andobtained as good as was ever baked upon theplains. From this time on, at least for somehundreds of miles, it was our pleasure tomeet her on the road and in camp. We werein different trains, but camped near eachother every night for protection from the