The next day my husband had to go to Portland on business and we went as far as Hillsboro, where I visited Mrs. Eells until he returned. Then we began to get ready to go to my future home in Shasta valley, traveling with the stock and ox team. Part of the time I rode horseback and part of the time I helped drive the cattle. We went on until we got into the Umpqua valley and it was very warm and the grasshoppers were eating up the whole country; they had eaten all the foliage on the trees. We came to the Cow Creek canyon, but the military road had not been built and we had to travel the old road in the bed of the creek for miles. It was very rough and rugged and the hills were steep. We had traveled one day to put up camp. Next day we started, but in going up a steep hill one of the oxen stopped and trembled and we thought he had got poisoned. We cut up some sliced bacon and he didn't object to eating it and licked his tongue out for more. We gave him some more bacon and still he wouldn't go. Finally we hired another team which got us through the canyon, but we concluded it was only a trick of the old ox, as he had been raised on bacon and that was all he wanted. We came to the Grave Creek hills which were very steep. We camped just as we got to the summit of them and after a rest traveled on; in just two weeks from that time two men were killed in that place by the Indians. We just missed being killed. We traveled on in the Rogue River valley which was not very much settled, save in the lower part. It showed evidence of the conflict between the white men and the Indians by the lonely graves that were scattered along the roadside. We came onto Wagner Creek where Mrs. Harris and other settlers were killed by the Indians in '55. They were harvesting some fine fields of grain as we came through the valley. The towns were all small--they could hardly be seen. There was Waitsburg, where Mr. Wait had a flouring mill, and a large log house; and at the time of the Indian trouble, the people flocked there for safety. In going through the Rogue River valley the Indians came to our wagon and were very inquisitive and even got into the wagon and frightened me; and when the men had to be away I would become very much frightened. One evening when in camp on the bank of the Rogue River, we saw across the stream some soldiers who had some Indians with them. The Indians finally took up their belongings and started across the mountains. The soldiers crossed the river and the bugler rode down to our camp and told us it would be better for us to go up to a nearby farm house; that while he did not apprehend any trouble, we would be safer there. We went up there and found seven men, including a fifteen year old boy. They had a log cabin and very kindly made all the preparation that they could for our safety. The boy was very anxious to kill an Indian, so he put seven bullets down in his muzzle-loader gun and said: "One of those bullets would surely hit an Indian."