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[Illustration: J. W. (WATT) GIBSON.]




RECOLLECTIONS

_of a_ PIONEER

BY

J. W. (WATT) GIBSON




Press of Nelson-Hanne Printing Co.
107 South Third Street
St. Joseph, Mo.

[Illustration]




FOREWORD.


The following pages are entirely from memory. I kept no notes or other
record of the events I have attempted to relate, but I am sure my
memory has not often deceived me. My early responsibilities compelled
me to give close attention to the things which transpired about me
and thus fixed them permanently in my mind. In fact, most of the
experiences which I have attempted to relate were of such personal
consequence that I was compelled to be alert and to know what was
passing.

I undertook the present task at the solicitation of many friends and
acquaintances who urged that my recollections of a period, now fast
passing out of personal memory, ought to be preserved. It is probable
that I have made a good many errors, especially, in my attempts to
locate places and to give distances, but it must be remembered that
we had no maps or charts with us on the plains and that but few state
lines or other sub-divisions were in existence. The location of the
places where events occurred with reference to present geographical
lines has been my most difficult task.

          J. W. (WATT) GIBSON.

_St. Joseph, Mo., August 15, 1912._




TABLE OF CONTENTS


CHAPTER                                                 PAGE

     I. Early Days in Buchanan County.                     5

    II. First Trip to California.                         16

   III. Gold Mining in '49 and '50.                       42

    IV. Back Across the Plains.                           58

     V. Across the Plains With Cattle.                    67

    VI. A Bear Hunt.                                      75

   VII. Home by way of Panama and New York.               83

  VIII. Another Trip Across the Plains with Cattle.       86

    IX. Sojourn in California.                            98

     X. Beginning of the War.                            106

    XI. The Battle of Lexington.                         114

   XII. Back to the South.                               124

  XIII. Home for Recruits.                               132

   XIV. War in Arkansas.                                 147

    XV. Back into Missouri.                              157

   XVI. Worse Than War.                                  171

  XVII. Across the Plains in Sixty-five.                 190

 XVIII. The Return to Missouri.                          206




CHAPTER I.

_Early Days in Buchanan County._


I was born in Bartow County, Georgia, on the 22nd day of January,
1829. Sometime during my infancy, and at a period too early to be
remembered, my father and his family moved to East Tennessee, where we
lived until I was ten years old. About this time reports concerning
the Platte Purchase and its splendid farming land began to reach us. I
do not now recall the exact channel through which these reports came,
but I think some of our relatives had gone there and had written back
urging us to come. My father finally yielded and in the spring of 1839
sold his Tennessee farm and prepared for the long journey overland.
I was old enough at the time to take some note of what passed, and I
remember that my father received four thousand dollars for his land
in Indiana "shin plasters." I recall also the preparations that were
made for the journey--the outfitting of the wagons, gathering the
stock together, and most important of all, the part assigned to me.
I was provided with a pony, saddle and bridle and given charge of a
herd of loose cattle and horses. We had a rude camp outfit and carried
along with us all the household plunder with which we expected to
start life in the new country. As may be well imagined, there was not
a great deal of it, although the family was large. In those days the
people had to be satisfied with the barest necessities. Some idea of
the extent of this part of my father's worldly property may be given
by saying that the entire outfit, including camp equipment, was loaded
into two wagons.

I shall never forget the morning we started. Everything had been
loaded the day before, except the articles necessary to the sojourn
over night. We were up bright and early, had breakfast in little
better than camp style, and were off before sun up. My father, mother,
and the younger children took the first wagon, and one of my brothers
and my sisters the second. I was upon my pony and in my glory. The
wagons moved forward and I rounded up the cattle and horses and forced
them along after the wagons. I was too young to feel any tender
sentiment toward the old home or to appreciate the fact that I was
leaving it forever, but I remember that my father and mother often
looked back, and as we passed over the hill out of sight, I saw them
turn and wave a long farewell. Many times since I have thought of that
scene and have learned to know full well its meaning to my father and
mother.

I cannot recall all the particulars of this toilsome journey, and if I
could, they would hardly interest the reader. I remember that I soon
lost the enthusiasm of that early morning on which we started and grew
very tired and longed for the end of our journey. For a great many
days it seemed to me we traveled through a rugged mountain country.
The hills were long and toilsome, the streams had no bridges and had
to be forded, and I frequently had great difficulty in getting my
cattle and horses to follow the wagons. On such occasions, the caravan
would stop and the whole family would come to my aid. Of course, there
were no fences along the sides of the road and my stock becoming
wearied or tempted by the green herbage alongside would wander out
into the woods and brush and give me much trouble. When I think of
these