The family has started into its third month of travel. The weather has changed in the last week. The unusually wet spring has now become a very hot, and dry summer. The sky is cloudless and the sun unrelenting. Having "headed" the Loup river, the wagon train has changed its course and is now moving in a south-westerly direction back toward the Platte to intercept the Mormon Trail. It appears Captain Walton left the company several days ago in order to scout ahead and determine the best route back to the Platte. He will not return until the 28th.

The long detour is almost over, but the next few days will prove to be the most discouraging and disheartening of the entire trek.

On July 25th, the Zimmermans record that they "traveled all day till dark in deep sand." They have left the Loup river behind them, and now the only water they have is that which they can haul. "It was very hot and our teams almost perished."

Toward evening that day they found water, but it was in a swampy area and the water was warm, "and full of live wigglers." They strained the water to get rid of the bugs (or perhaps tadpoles) and then boiled it. Then they placed the containers of hot water back into the swampy ponds to let them cool off.

Benjamin Chamberlain Critchlow, who was 15, has left the most detailed account of what happened that evening. Chamberlain, as he was called, was traveling with his parents, William Coe Critchlow and Harriet Hawkins Critchlow, his sister Charlotte, age 14, and little brother, William, age 12. Brother and Sister Critchlow had taught school in Garden Grove, and Brother Critchlow was president of the branch of the Church. Brother Critchlow was lame and not able to walk.

Chamberlain reports that when they halted that night "we formed our wagons to make a corral, something after the pattern of a horseshoe. The wagons were so arranged that the front wheels of one wagon interlocked with the hind wheel of the wagon ahead, the fronts of the wagons pointing outward from the corral. The cattle were driven into this enclosure and guards were placed at the horseshoe entrance to hold the cattle till morning."

When it became dark the buffaloes came near enough to the encampment to frighten the livestock. Even though guards were posted with the cattle, Crooks reported "we had the painful misfortune to witness another dreadful stampede, in which 55 of our cattle ran into the hills." The guards were helpless to stop them.

Chamberlain wrote "I remember that night when they said the cattle were all gone that father’s nerves were so affected that his agitation was so great as to shake the wagon; himself unable to walk a step, our teams all gone, and being in the midst of a desolate wilderness was enough to make anyone so situated have peculiar thoughts pass through their minds.

The cattle had disappeared into the night. It must have been terrifying for those in the company to realize that they were far from the regular route of the pioneers, and that their only means of traveling had vanished. They were stranded in an inhospitable and dangerous wilderness.

The next morning, July 26th, the men set out to find their livestock. Susan Zimmerman remembered that they hunted all day, while the women and children "boiled in the hot sun with no shade."

Six head of cattle were found that day and brought back to the encampment. That evening, Crooks wrote, "we began to tie up our cattle."

The next day five more head were found.

On the 28th, after searching over the surrounding country, all but twenty head of cattle were found.

Two interesting "cow"stories came out of the stampede.

Susan Zimmerman wrote that the men out hunting the cattle had no water to drink. Then they found one of the Zimmerman cows. "She was so wild they had to lasso her so they could milk her for the boys had nothing to drink and were almost perished. They said they never could have reached camp without that milk, as she saved them."

Chamberlain Critchlow remembered that in the morning after the stampede "but one cow was in sight and that was our cow, who always kept away from other cattle." She was saved because she refused to follow the herd when it stampeded. The odd thing was "her peculiar habit cost her her life after we came to the valley; the coyotes finding her alone that winter had a feast." I guess part of being wise might be knowing when to stay with the crowd, and when to go it alone.

Captain Walton returned from his scouting trip on the 28th, and the pioneers were enabled to proceed on their journey.

On the 29th, Crooks wrote in his journal that "twenty head [were] brought from Allred’s camp." The return of these cattle means that all of the livestock lost in the stampede was recovered.

By the 2nd of August, the company completed their long detour and reached the Platte again.

Critchlow wrote that "after all our aroundabout journey, we came into the main road and met with other companies who had remained back until the water had subsided and at the time were as far in advance on their journey as our companies were."

Crooks recorded in his journal "we found that we were only 260 miles from Rushville and had traveled 428 miles. We found some companies who had started July fourth."

In the end, those companies who left Winter Quarters on the 4th of July, hoping to save time by finding a place upstream to cross the rivers fared no better, in terms of time, than those who stayed and waited for the waters to recede. In essence, the entire enterprise of "heading the Elkhorn and the Loup" was a waste for the Garden Grove Company.

The members of the company surely thought about this. They had expended a great deal of energy, consumed precious supplies, and lost livestock during the month-long adventure. Sister Kingsley lost her life.

Interestingly, none of the family histories express any regret, or anger over the misadventure.

 

Part 7

Part 9