When we came to the first water that flowed toward the Pacific Coast at
Pacific Springs, we drivers had quite a little talk about a new scheme.
We put a great many "ifs" together and they amounted to about this:--If
this stream were large enough; if we had a boat; if we knew the way: if
there were no falls or bad places; if we had plenty of provisions; if we
were bold enough set out on such a trip, etc., we might come out at some
point or other on the Pacific Ocean. And now when we came to the first
of the "ifs," a stream large enough to float a small boat; we began to
think more strongly about the other "ifs".
In the course of our rambles we actually did run across the second "if"
in the shape of a small ferry boat filled up with sand upon a bar, and
it did not take very long to dig it out and put it into shape to use,
for it was just large enough to hold one wagon at a time. Our military
escort intended to leave us at this point, as their route now bore off
to the north of ours. I had a long talk with the surgeon who seemed well
informed about the country, and asked him about the prospects. He did
not give the Mormons a very good name. He said to me:--"If you go to
Salt Lake City, do not let them know you are from Missouri, for I tell
you that many of those from that State will never see California. You
know they were driven from Missouri, and will get revenge if they can."
Both the surgeon and the captain said the stream came out on the Pacific
Coast and that we had no obstacles except cataracts, which they had
heard were pretty bad.
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