into the
water, frightening them awfully. They caught hold of their mules'
tails, and were drawn out; the king bolt of the wagon preventing its
coming down upon them. We had four more, smaller streams to cross,
within two miles of the Raft river, equally muddy; at one of which, we
broke our hindmost evener, leaving our wagon in the water, and getting
our load wet. After getting out of the scrape, we drove four miles, and
crossing another branch of the Raft river, camped for the night, at the
junction of the Cut-Off and Ft. Hall roads.

We are now at the end of the Soda Springs cut-off. I like this route
much, with the exception of descending two bad hills; it is a good
route, along which may be found abundance of grass and water, the two
great desideratums on this long journey. It is somewhat infested with
Indians, excepting the first 45 miles; they are the Shemook or Root
Digger Indians, a thievish, rascally race. It is well for the emigrant
to keep good guard over his stock on this cut-off, for they are always
on the watch for an opportunity to steal. We have good grass and water
to-night, and an abundance of it.

25 miles.

10th. Left our camping ground early and travelled up the creek about
five miles, then crossed and passed over another dividing ridge to
another small creek--came in sight of the Great Salt Lake road. Had
plenty of grass and water--camped at night on a small brook in a basin
in the mountains, surrounded by high granite peaks standing about in
the greatest confusion, called the Steeple Rocks. They are quite a
curiosity at a distance, looking like steeples rising up from the
plains, some of them many hundred feet high, and covering more than an
acre or two at the base.--The road has been good.

25 miles.

11th. Got an early start this morning. We had a very cold night, quite
cold enough for December, but have had a very warm day.--Passed the
Junction of the Salt Lake and Ft. Hall roads this morning;--saw some
wagons coming that road, the men said they had been seven days coming
from Salt Lake; that it was about 170 miles, and that they had some bad
streams to cross, one of them (the Webber) 19 times.--Passed a new
grave at noon. We saw the team to which the person belonged who died,
go along while we were baiting; he was then alive;--when we came up two
hours afterwards, he was buried. He was from Missouri, and had been
left sick on the road by his comrades. The team that had him in charge