Sabbath, Sept, 20, 1873. 

The sun shone out beautifully in the morning, but it soon became cloudy and snowed very fast, covering the ground and lodging upon the trees. It looks like winter. All around us is white. Here we are just this side of the range in our tent, while the earth is sheeted with snow. . . . We feel deeply our need of the grace of God. . . . Shall I ever learn to be perfectly patient under minor trials? . . . My earnest prayer to God daily is for divine grace to do His will.  

     Sunday, Sept. 21, 1873. My husband and myself went up upon a high hill where it was warmed by the rays of the sun, and in full view of the snow-covered mountains we prayed to God for His blessing. . . . We both wept before the Lord and felt deeply humbled before Him.  

     Monday, Sept. 22, 1873. Willie started over the range today to either get supplies or get the axletree of the wagon Walling is making. We cannot either move on or return to our home at the Mills without our wagon. . . . There is very poor feed for the horses. Their grain is being used up. The nights are cold. Our stock of provisions is fast decreasing. . . . Willie and Brother Glover returned today. Brother Glover was on his way with the new axletree when Willie met him. . . . We were glad to see them and made preparations to start the next morning for Grand Lake in Middle Park. We had a cold night, but our noble bonfire of big logs and our little stove in the tent kept us comfortable.  

     Tuesday, Sept. 23, 1873. We rose early and packed up bedding and provisions for a start on our journey. . . . The road was so rough for about six miles, Sister Hall and myself decided to walk. My husband rode a pony. Willie walked. Brother Glover drove the horses. . . . We had to walk over streams and gulches, on stones and upon logs. We gathered some gum from the trees as we passed along.                                      

     After six or eight miles' travel on foot it was a good rest to climb up upon the bedding and ride. The scenery in the Park was very grand. Our hearts were cheerful, although we were very tired. We could trace the wonders of God's work in the grand towering mountains and rocks, in the beautiful plains and in the groves of pines. The variegated trees, showing the marks of autumn, were interspersed among the living-green pines, presenting . . . a picture of great loveliness and beauty. It was the dying glories of summer. We camped for the night in a plain surrounding a cluster of willows. We cut plenty of grass for our beds.  

     Wednesday, Sept. 24, 1873. We had most beautiful scenery most of the way. Autumn's glory is seen in the variegated golden and scarlet trees among the dark evergreens. The towering mountains are all around us. . . . We stopped at Grand River for dinner. We had some difficulty in finding a carriage road, but after some delay, and one on horseback searching carefully, we could pass on. We had a very rough road. We arrived at Grand Lake about five o'clock. Pitched our tent in a good dry spot and were tired enough to rest that night.  

     Grand Lake, Colorado, Thursday, Sept. 25, 1873. We worked busily nearly all the day in getting settled. . . . I have two ticks [mattress coverings] made of woolen blankets, which we filled with hay and made very nice beds. We have boards arranged for shelves, and we look very cozy here. 

     Grand Lake, Colo., Sept. 28, 1873. Here we are, camped by a beautiful lake, surrounded by pines, which shelter us from winds and storms. Very high mountains rise surrounding the lake except on one side. . . . The lake is the most beautiful body of water I ever looked upon. . . . Fishermen come in here to fish and take out their fish packed in boxes upon the backs of donkeys. . . .     

     On our way here we met thirteen mules from the lake, two men, one horse, and two donkeys loaded with two hundred sixty pounds of lake fish. . . . There are a few log cabins here but only one that is fit to live in and that has no floor. We came here for father's health. He has been better since we came. . . .     

     Our provisions are getting low. . . . We cannot get away from here till Brother Glover returns and sends Walling with horses and ponies. We have two horses and one pony here. In coming, for want of ponies, Lucinda and I walked about six miles over the roughest road. We cannot do this in returning, for it is mostly up rocky mountains.     

     We spent the time very profitably on this side of the range. We tried to make it a business to seek God earnestly.

     Monday, Sept. 29, 1873. We improved a portion of the day in getting hay for horses. My husband swung the scythe. Willie pitched the hay into the wagon and Lucinda and I trod it down. My husband and Willie worked diligently to make a warm stable of an old house nearby, and in securing hay for horses.  

     Tuesday, Sept. 30, 1873. Mr. Westcott killed a wolf this morning. It was a large, savage-looking beast. He was caught in a trap and was howling half the night, which seemed very dismal. The fur of the wolf was very fine and thick.

 Wednesday, Oct. 1, 1873. I spent nearly all day in writing. Willie went out upon the water in the afternoon. My husband and Willie and Sister Hall went after a load of hay to keep the horses. Their feed is nearly done.  

     Thursday, Oct. 2, 1873. I took my writings out under a tree and wrote, until noon. After dinner we went in a boat across the lake and scrambled over rocks and mountains, trees, and brush one mile or more. We saw large poplar trees that the beavers had taken off as nicely as though they had been cut with a knife. The instincts and habits of these animals are truly wonderful. We took the boat again. As it was hard rowing, Willie ran along on the sandy beach and with a long rope drew the boat after him, which was a much easier as well as a more rapid way of getting along, for the boat was clumsy and the oars were very poor. We spent some time upon the water. . . . There is now only one man at the lake besides ourselves.  

     Friday, Oct. 3, 1873. The horse called Parson was very sick. We feared he would die. We doctored him as well as we could, putting hot flannel blankets around him. He was relieved after several applications. We learned that hydrotherapy is for animals as well as for human beings.  

Monday, October 6, 1873. We arose early and commenced preparations for our homeward journey. We packed all things on the wagon, and Sister Hall, my husband, and myself rose and walked a little until we had traveled about twelve miles over very rough road, through woods of fallen timber. Willie rode an Indian pony. We halted to take dinner, but as we began to search for the bag of provisions we found by some means it had left us and we had no dinner except a pie and a small loaf of bread. We sent Willie back to find our bag of supplies, fearful he might have to return the entire distance.  

     We passed on, for we could not have our dinner until we should come to the horses. . . . The flour and some potatoes were hidden there for our use as we returned. We set up our little stove, cooked white gems in our gem pans. . . . and had a very good dinner. Here my husband and Sister Hall took two horses and rode the remainder of that day's journey. We drove on and on and did not camp until nine o'clock at night. It took about two hours to pitch tent and take care of the horses for the night.  

     I could not sleep for thinking of Willie alone on the road and having twenty miles' extra travel; but about twelve o'clock Willie came to camp, all safe, with the lost provisions. We felt very thankful that we had passed over many miles of the road in safety without accident or harm. . . . We were a tired company and some slept soundly, but I was too weary to sleep much.                                     

     Tuesday, Oct. 7, 1873. We ascended the steep rocky hills--up, up, up as fast as our horses could climb. We passed through brooks and gulches, up hill and down for about six miles.  

     This brought us to the foot of the range. We there consulted what we should do--press on, or take a warm cooked dinner. We left it all with Mr. Walling. His decision was for us to eat a hasty meal and, with as little delay as possible, hurry over the range. We did so, and did not regret it. . . . There was no wind. The sun shone pleasantly upon us. . . . The works of God in nature as viewed by us on this journey were indeed wonderful. . . .  

     We had passed the range but a couple of hours when . . . thick clouds began to gather, and we hastened on as fast as our team could carry us. Before we reached home the clouds were very dark. The wind blew dust and dirt, and blinded us so that we could not see. The lightnings flashed and we were threatened with a fearful storm. However, we arrived safely at home [before the storm broke]. It was a storm of wind and rain and snow. . . . We were very thankful we were in our comfortable home and not in camp on the other side of the range.  

     Wallings Mills, Colo., Wednesday, Oct. 8, 1873. It was quite a luxury to rest upon a bed, for we had not done this for twenty-three nights. We feel very thankful that we are at home. There is a severe storm of wind, uprooting trees and even tumbling over outhouses. The sand and gravel are carried by the wind against the windows, and are coming in at the crevices covering bed and bedding, furniture and floors. . . . This morning we see the mountain range is covered with snow.  

     Wallings Mills, Friday, Oct. 10, 1873. I wrote a long letter. . . . Wrote some upon temptation of Christ. . . . My husband and I rode out just before the Sabbath.     

     Wallings Mills, Colo., Sabbath, Oct. 11, 1873. It is the holy Sabbath. A portion of the day we devoted to prayer and to writing.  

     Wallings Mills, Colo., Sunday, Oct. 12, 1873. Willie left us for Michigan today to attend school. His father and I took him in spring wagon to Black Hawk. We felt sad to part with him.  

     Wallings Mills, Monday, Oct. 13, 1873. It seems lonely without Willie. . . . We returned with the (Walling) children about dark. May sang all the way home. She was very happy.  

     Wallings Mills, Sat., Oct. 18, 1873. We walked out and prayed in the grove. . . . I read some to the children. It is rather difficult for them to keep quiet. We had a very precious season of prayer at the close of the Sabbath.  

     Wallings Mills, Colo., Monday, Oct. 20, 1873. We had some important writing to do, which kept my husband busily at it until time to take his seat in the wagon. We took Sister Hall and Addie and May Walling with us. We ate our dinner on the way to Black Hawk. The day was very mild and the children enjoyed the ride very much. We traded some in Black Hawk and in Central [City]. We did not get home until after sundown. . . . My husband wrote letters after he returned home. Sat up quite late answering letters.  

     Wallings Mills, Colo., Tuesday, Oct. 21, 1873. We had a good season of prayer as usual, then commenced our day's labor. I washed the dishes and then sudsed out, rinsed, and hung upon the line a large washing. I feel desirous that my heart should be cleansed from all iniquity. 

     Wallings Mills, Thursday, Oct. 23, 1873. We decided to go to Black Hawk to send a telegram to Battle Creek. . . . We took our dinner to Sister Bental's. We had hot water to drink with our cold crackers. . . . As we were returning it was very cold and commenced snowing.  

     Wallings Mills, Friday, Oct. 27, 1873. At the commencement of the Sabbath we had a most precious season of prayer. . . . We believe He will hear our prayers. The blessing of God came to us as we were praying. . . . We feel like trusting in God.  

     Wallings Mills, Sunday, Oct. 26, 1873. It continues to snow and blow. This is a most terrible storm. . . . A gentleman who was traveling called. He wanted to stay all night. He said he had not seen such a storm for twenty years. In the evening a traveler called, blinded and benumbed by cold and wind. He was on foot and nearly perished coming over Dory Hill. He swore roundly about the weather. 

     Golden City, Colo., Wednesday, Nov. 5, 1873. We are at Golden City. We leave this morning. Our visit here has been very pleasant. . . . Mr. Laskey takes us down in the wagon to Denver.--Ms 13, 1873. 

Released November 2, 1964  

3MR 164-172