ver bank a short time before, and from the driver we learned
we were ten miles from Julesburg. We proceeded, keeping close to the
bank, and with field glass continually swept the valley and bluffs in
every direction. We were facing a mild and depressing wind. All of a
sudden dismal sounds reached our ears, and as the noiseless current of
the river rounded the projecting points in its banks, it bore our
staunch old craft to a place of safety, or ourselves to a cruel death,
we knew not which. The sounds became more distinct until both of us
were satisfied that the Indians had captured the overland coach with
its load of human freight. As we rounded the next bend the river took
a straight course, but there was no island in sight.

"No island in sight," said my friend. "Where can we go?" And turning
around I discovered he was as white as a sheet. As for myself, I was
hanging to the edge of the bank trying hard to collect my wits and
recover from a fainting spell. We finally managed to get the boat back
and around the bend where we lay concealed for some time, suffering
the torture of Hades. I finally crawled to the top of the bank and
with field glass surveyed the locality in every direction. No life was
visible, still the unearthly noise kept up, and the feeling of those
two lone travelers would be impossible to describe. The thought at
last came to me that we must be somewhere in the vicinity of the old
California Crossing. I crawled back to the boat and told my companion
to go ahead, while I continually used the field glass. After fifteen
minutes, I discovered a white speck in the eastern horizon. We were
soon over our fright, and with light hearts were sailing over the
rippling waters of the old Platte feeling assured that we would soon
reach a place of safety, as far as the Indians were concerned.

On arriving at the crossing, which it proved to be, we found one of
those large white covered prairie schooners stalled in the middle of
the stream, and fifty Greasers, as the Mexican drivers were called,
and as many yoke of oxen trying to haul it out.

FAREWELL TO THE PLAINS

We sailed merrily along and at two P. M. reached Julesburg, the then
terminus of the Union Pacific railroad and overland shipping point for
all territory west, north and south. The Union Pacific railroad, when
under construction, made a terminus every two or three hundred miles.
The houses were built in sections, so they were easily taken apart,