It is now some time since I wrote home, or at least since I wrote at any length, having written to you a line by a returning emigrant whom I met on the road and had just time to say that we were all well. Bu there is no certainty in sending letters by such conveyance. […] We shall pass Fort Laramie tomorrow, where I shall leave this to be take to the States. It will probably be the last time I can write until I get to my journey’s end, which may take till the middle of October.
William Swain, writing to his wife Sabrina on July 4th, 1849. Collected in “Oregon Trail Stories” (David Klausmeyer).
We have had uncommon good health and luck on our route, not having had a case of sickness in the company for the last four weeks. Not a creature has died, not a wagon tire loosened, and no bad luck has attended us.
The country is becoming very hilly; the streams rapid, more clear, and assuming the character of mountain streams. The air is very dry and clear, and our path is lined with wild sage and artemisia.
We had a fine [Fourth of July] celebration today, with an address by Mr. Sexton, which was very good; an excellent dinner, good enough for any hotel; and the boys drank toasts and cheered till they are now going in all sorts around the camp.
[…] I am hearty and well, far more so than when I left home. That failing of short breath which troubled me at home has entirely left me. Notwithstanding these facts, I would advise no man to come this way to California.