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Storms broke the heat with terrible violence of balls of lightning bouncing over the ground; but what was lightning to a peppering rain of Indian bucks’ small shot hitting the tent roof? The rains laid the dust and permitted a good wash of faces and clothing, as well as swelling the dried wagon frame threatening to rattle apart from sheer sun-scorch. Repairs could only be made at few and far intervals, we shall visit as we pass; and I do not know whether those travelers were wiser whose pace quickened to the watch word, “Faster—faster—today,” or those who slowed up to avoid breakdowns. All knew they must get across South Pass before snow blocked the way.

Lincoln was one of the most picturesque figures in 1859. He had loaned money on a mortgage at Council Bluffs. He came out to look over the ground. It was while sitting with his feet on the railing of the old Pacific House that he dug out of Dodge, the young surveyor, all the facts for a route up the Platte, which later materialized in the Union Pacific. A shaft commemorates his visit to Council Bluffs, but he was quick to see that the real Western terminus must be Omaha, and he enforced that, when he later became president.