CHAPTER IX.

ATTENTION TURNED TO THE WEST.

FASCINATIONS OF THE WEST--BELLEVUE MISSION OFFERED US--ACCEPTANCE--ADIEU TO FRIENDS--WE REACH SAINT LOUIS--UP THE "BIG MUDDY"--ARRIVAL IN OMAHA.

YOUNG man who has been born and raised in one of the Eastern or Middle States, and then leaves and spends a year or two in the far West, is rarely ever satisfied, when he returns, to remain permanently in his old home. There is a strange fascination about the West that is really wonderful, and that can hardly be accounted for; and when it once gets hold of a man, it is next to an impossibility for him ever to get rid of it.
     We had passed overland from South Bend, Indiana, to the Pacific Coast. We had seen the grand prairies of Illinois and Iowa, the woods and clay hills of Missouri; we had traversed "The Great American Desert," crossed the Black Hills, climbed the Rockies, scaled the rugged Sierra Nevadas, and had lived for two years and more on the gold-washed shores of the lovely Pacific. And having breathed the pure and balmy atmosphere of the West, we were not only intoxicated with

the pure and exhilarating atmosphere, but delighted with the bewitching scenery, the push, and the wonderful activity so characteristic of the people in the western part of the New World. Time and again we turned our anxious eyes to the romantic scenery of the Great West, which had previously charmed us. We were not satisfied to remain in Indiana. Every thing there seemed so old and staid. We wanted a wider sphere for action, and I can assure the reader that, when we reached the plains of Nebraska we had a wide berth and a sphere of almost unlimited bounds for action.
     At that time much was being said in the papers about the new Territories of Kansas and Nebraska. The eyes of thousands were turned thither. For some time we had been watching the movements of the Church along the border. Rev. W. H. Goode, an old Indiana man, was leading the hosts of Zion in Nebraska. We had read with interest his letters in the Advocate. We were restless and not at all satisfied where we were. We were serving our second year on the Sanford Circuit; and although we had a good work, and many souls had been saved, still there was no attraction there. There was an unaccountable drawing towards the frontier.
     In the spring of 1858 we saw, in the Western Christian Advocate, the appointments of the Kansas and Nebraska Conference. A number of

charges in Nebraska were left to be supplied. I wrote to William M. Smith, a brother of mine, who was then pastor at Omaha, telling him our desire to go to the West, and to spend our lives in laying the foundations and building up the Church along the border. He saw the presiding elder, W. H. Goode, and immediately wrote us, saying that Brother Goode would like to have us come at once and supply Bellevue Mission until conference. No sooner did we receive this word than we set about preparing to move. In a few weeks we had everything arranged, and were ready to bid a final adieu to friends and relatives and the old home Conference. As strong as was the drawing towards the West, and as earnestly as we desired to go, the severing of tender ties and cherished friends was not an easy task.
     We have never had a doubt but that God led us to adopt Nebraska as our permanent home. In all we see most unmistakably the hand of God. June 23, 1858, all things being ready, we bade adieu to weeping friends, and started for our future distant home on the frontier. If we had known just what was before us, the trials, the sacrifices, the hardships, we doubtless would have shrank from the undertaking. It was well we did not know. It is well no one can see his future pathway. God wisely conceals from us the future.
     We took the cars at Terre Haute, reaching

St. Louis early the next morning. This was Thursday. Here we remained until the next Monday before we could get a through boat to Omaha. Monday morning we paid our fare, and went on board the steamer Sioux City. The captain said we would be off in a short time. The fireman was shoveling coal in the furnace, the smoke was pouring out of the smoke-stack, and it seemed from the stir on board that we would be on our way in a very little while. We looked every moment the whole live-long day for the boat to start, but looked in vain. Tuesday morning came. The firemen were busy at work, and every thing indicated that we would start in a very little while; but the day closed, and we were still lying at anchor. Wednesday came, and went as Tuesday had. Thursday came, Friday came, Saturday came, and we were still lying at the wharf. At five o'clock in the afternoon the steamer weighed anchor, floated out into the middle of the Mississippi, and slowly started up the stream. It was a wonderful relief; and we began to breathe easy, for we had been for ten days in the deepest suspense.
     The weather was. hot, the water warm and muddy, and the mosquitoes were just fearful. The heat and mosquitoes tormented us without by night and by day, and the warm, muddy water made us sick within; and, all in all, the trip was

most unpleasant. The mosquitoes were gallinippers, and as numerous, it seemed, as the swarms of flies that tormented Pharaoh and his servants, and corrupted all the land of Egypt.
     The second day after leaving St. Louis our steamer stuck fast on a sand-bar, and remained some six hours before she got off. In less than a half a day afterwards she stuck fast again, and remained for several hours, how many times we were aground on sand-bars during the trip, I am unable to say, but not a day passed but what we struck one or more. Sometimes our steamer would back and get off at once; at other times she would work for hours before getting away. The only thing we could do was to wait and be patient, and while away the weary hours the best way we possibly could. The first two or three days out we had good ice-water to drink, and nice cream for our tea and coffee. After that, however, we were compelled to drink the warm and muddy water of the Missouri, and instead of cream we had chalk-water for our coffee and tea, while almost everything else on board seemed in keeping with the filthy water and the sham cream.
     Aside from the fare, we were treated with great kindness. The captain was a perfect gentleman, and his wife a most estimable Christian lady and a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Their two daughters were on board also. The

whole family was one of the most pleasant it has ever been our privilege to meet, and their kind, social, and genial manner made the trip much more pleasant than it otherwise would have been.
     After ten days' weary travel on the "Big Muddy," in the afternoon of July 13th our steamer struck the Omaha landing, threw out her cable, and we stepped ashore, glad to bid a final adieu to the Sioux City. That night we took tea with the kind family of Colonel John Ritchie. My brother and family were visiting at the colonel's. From all we received a warm welcome and the most kindly greeting. Brother Ritchie was one of the leading members, and one of the stewards of the Omaha Station, and afterwards, while pastor of our Church in Omaha, he was one of the most active members we had.
     We were just three weeks coming from Terre Haute to Omaha. The same distance can now be traveled in less than two days.