ation was demanded. These meetings helped to
form the patriotic desire. Senator Tappan once said that thirty thousand
settlers with their thirty thousand rifles in the valley of the Columbia
would quickly settle all questions of title to the country. This saying
was adopted as the slogan for a campaign in the West. It had the same
inspiring effect as the later famous "54-40 or fight." People were
aroused as in the olden times they had been aroused to the crusades. It
became a form of mental contagion to talk of, and finally to accomplish,
the journey to the Northwest. Though no accurate records were kept, it
is estimated that in 1843 over 800 people crossed to Willamette Valley.
By 1845 this immigration had increased to fully 3000 within the year.

Because of these conditions the Oregon Trail had become a national
highway. Starting at Independence, which is a suburb of the present
Kansas City, it set out over the rolling prairie. At that time the wide
plains were bright with wild flowers and teeming with game. Elk,
antelope, wild turkeys, buffalo, deer, and a great variety of smaller
creatures supplied sport and food in plenty. Wood and water were in
every ravine; the abundant grass was sufficient to maintain the swarming
hordes of wild animals and to give rich pasture to horses and oxen. The
journey across these prairies, while long and hard, could rarely have
been tedious. Tremendous thunderstorms succeeded the sultry heat of the
West, an occasional cyclone added excitement; the cattle were apt to
stampede senselessly; and, while the Indian had not yet developed the
hostility that later made a journey across the plains so dangerous,
nevertheless the possibilities of theft were always near enough at hand
to keep the traveler alert and interested. Then there was the sandy
country of the Platte River with its buffalo--buffalo by the hundreds of
thousands, as far as the eye could reach--a marvelous sight: and beyond
that again the Rockies, by way of Fort Laramie and South Pass.

Beyond Fort Hall the Oregon Trail and the trail for California divided.
And at this point there began the terrible part of the journey--the
arid, alkaline, thirsty desert, short of game, horrible in its monotony,
deadly with its thirst. It is no wonder that, weakened by their
sufferings in this inferno, so many of the immigrants looked upon the
towering walls of the Sierras with a sinking of the heart.

While at first most of the influx of settle