Told by the Pioneers - Washington Secretary of State

Told
by the Pioneers
up the mountain and we fastened a tree behind the wagons to act as an
anchor or brake to let them down the other side. \Ve camped on the
Big Sandy, the weather being wet and drizzly. I know it was Sep
tember 1st, as it was my eleventh birthday.
While looking away off to the west from the summit I saw heavy
clouds and mists roll and fill up the Willamette Valley. This was our
long looked for destination. I felt a little bit lonesome. We were
leaving the broad, dry plains and warm sands underfoot; the clear
skies overhead, with the warm starlight nights. No hats or shoes
were necessary at that time of year. Mother and I and brothers were
following along slowly as we ascended a slippery mountain. A well
dressed stranger who had come out to meet his folks was talking with
us, when Brother Tom's pony's feet slipped out from under him and
he came down on his side, pinning Brother Tom to the ground. Tom
was exasperated and exclaimed, "Now, Mother, yon would come to
Oregon." I saw the stranger smiling.
\Ve saw the stumps of some trees that the volunteers had shot into
until they fell, while in camp on the "Sandy". \Ve were greatly impressed
with the very tall timber at the western foot of the mountains.
Our first sight of civilization since we crossed the Missouri River
was the Foster farm, just as we came out of the timber. I don't see
how Mr. Foster ever supplied the emigrants with as much produce as
he did. I remember there was a great demand for potatoes and turnips.
Everything looked so fresh and green and his little dwelling
house looked so white and cozv.
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\Ve moved on a few miles through the level country. The rain was
corning down very steadily. We came to a cabin in the woods with a
big fireplace; no one at home and the door open. \Ve could not resist
the temptation, so we went in and built a big fire and turned the cattle
loose to browse. After awhile, near dusk, a tall man came in with
a rifle over his shoulder. He smiled good naturedly and made us welcome.
He had been out hunting deer. He had a small pottery plant,
that being his business in the east. His name was Richardson. We
had a short visit from him afterwards, when we settled down on the
Clackamas.
From Milwaukee, Wisconsin, to Milwaukie, Oregon
From Mr. Richardson's we traveled on into Milwaukie, on the \Villamette
River. \Ve could not go any farther unless we turned to the
left and went up the WilJamette Valley, but our folks started to go to
salt water, or the ocean, and were not going to be balked by lack of
roads or anv trifles like that. }lilwaukie was a little saw mill town
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on the bank of the river, with sailing vessels loading lumber for San
Francisco. The timber, a dense forest of fir, was as thick as I ever
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