. . . Being too late to secure a berth on the steamer which was to leave Glasgow that morning, as all the berths were taken, I decided to take the steamer for Liverpool, which would leave that evening at 6 o'clock, and sail from there to New York. I purchased several articles of clothing, and one of the Saints in the Glasgow branch gave me a hat, shirt, muffler, etc.

In the evening, at 6 o'clock, I left Glasgow for Liverpool, which place we reached late in the afternoon of the next day. I at once proceeded to Brigham Young's office. There Elder Orson Pratt received me very kindly and asked one of the clerks to take me to a lodging house, which he did.

The steamer Virginia was advertised to sail for New York the following Wednesday, June 27th, and I made arrangements to embark on that vessel.

Queenstown was reached the next day, June 28th. A small steamer brought us some Irish passengers, also some officers in search of some one. I felt somewhat nervous on seeing them and wondered who they were after. Who did they want? Was it me? Being anxious to ascertain, I inquired of an Irishwoman who was near me:

"What do these men want?"

The answer she made surprised me.

"It's only a runaway boy they're after."

I was thunderstruck at these words, but sill kept my eye on the officers. At last, seeing them make their way in the direction where I was, if it were possible for me to have sunk into the cabin, I should certainly have done so. Could I hide? No, there was no time for that. [p.40]

As they approached near me I sat down, folded my arms and said to myself: "Take me if you will!" Oh, how my heart beat! Another moment and they passed by. How thankful I felt it was not me they were after! It transpired afterwards it was a soldier—a deserter—they were in search of.

In a very little time we were sailing on the "deep blue sea."

We arrived at New York, July 13th, being sixteen days on our voyage.

Two or three hours after arriving I started to find out Mr. Thomas Taylor's office and was kindly invited in. No time was lost by me in accepting the invitation, as the heat was oppressive. I felt the effects very much, for no sooner was I seated than faintness overcame me. Some cold water and a fan were brought me and I soon recovered. H. P. Folsom, T. B. H. Stenhouse and others were present. Brother Folsom was formerly traveling Elder in the Durham and Newcastle Conference, and I formed his acquaintance at Middlesbrough.

After being in the office a few minutes, Brother Folsom asked me if I was from Middlesbrough, to which I answered in the affirmative. Knowing I had worked in a printing office, Brother Folsom spoke a good word for me to Brother Stenhouse, editor and proprietor of the Salt Lake Daily Telegraph, who asked me how long I would work for him if he paid the remainder of my fare to the frontier. I responded two years. He then asked:

"I'll make a proposition to you, Robert: I'll give you twelve dollars a week for the first year and fifteen for the second."

This proposition was eagerly accepted by me. [p.41]

I slept that night in the office. The next day Brother H. P. Folsom procured lodgings for me at Sister Mary I. Worthington's, in Brooklyn, with whom I stayed till the next Tuesday, the 17th of June, when, in company with her and her family, we left New York about midnight.

Our company consisted of about seven hundred Scandinavians (a ship having arrived on the 17th) and about one hundred English.

On the 29th of July, about noon, we arrived at Wyoming, a small settlement in Nebraska Territory. At a short distance the tents of the Saints attracted my attention, and I soon wended my way there, finding quite a number of those who had sailed in the "American Congress." We were pleased to greet each other.

After dinner I took a stroll over to one of the stores in the settlement, where I assisted in serving customers and was given my board as a recompense.

Early in the afternoon of August 2nd, we started on our long journey. Our train consisted of about sixty-five wagons. The captain's name was Rawlings, and Brother John Nicholson was chaplain.

About twenty miles was an average day's journey. The emigrants walked most of the way, riding only in the wagons at intervals to rest themselves. Each morning, before sunrise, we were aroused by the sound of the bugle. Then could be witnessed a scene of activity; all were bustling around, some going for wood, others carrying water and lighting fires.

While camping at night, after supper had been prepared and disposed of, we enjoyed good times, especially in listening [p.42] to singing, in which some young ladies excelled. Groups of elder ones could have been seen seated around large fires, conversing about days gone by and forecasting the future.

Following are some incidents which happened on the plains:

Reaching the North Platte River, and after being camped there two or three hours, one of our company appeared with two loaded guns, one of which he hurriedly handed to a young man. We asked what was the matter. He replied: "We are surrounded by Indians!"

I then rushed to our wagon to get a pistol which I thought our teamster had left in the wagon, but could not find it. All the men left camp to ascertain what was going on. Women and children began to cry and the scene was heartrending. Those of us left in camp were eagerly looking around, expecting every minute to be attacked by Indians. Our camping place was in a lonely spot. On one side, close to us, was the North Platte River, and on the other, about the same distance, were mountains. Not a house in sight; in fact, we were a great many miles away from one. We afterwards learned that the alarm was a false one. The captain called the company together and chided the men for leaving the camp without anyone to defend it.

One snowy morning, when probably about a hundred miles from Salt Lake City, I started out, as usual, on foot. My shoes were considerably worn out, and one of them was badly used up and so hurt me that, despite the snow, I had to throw it away and walk barefoot. Approaching our teamster, I besought him to let me ride, telling him my deplorable condition. He refused to grant my request. After walking awhile I again asked permission to ride, but was again denied. The snow came down in heavy flakes and very few of our company were walking. I trudged along for about three miles with only one shoe on, when my strength failed—I could go no farther—and was about to sit down in the snow, at the same time fervently praying to my Heavenly Father for His divine assistance. As soon as I had uttered my prayer a shoe came flying out to me. Our wagon was just passing by and Sister Worthington was the person who threw it. It was [p.43] small for me, but with difficulty, after rubbing some skin off my heel, I managed to get it on and went limping on my journey.

After a long, weary and tedious journey of about seven thousand miles, Salt Lake City was at length reached on September 30, 1866—a little over three months' travel from Liverpool to Salt Lake City. It was Sunday when we arrived. That morning I arose early, and getting something to eat, left the camp (a few miles up Parley's Canyon), and wended my way to the "City of the Saints," to find the residence of Brother T. B. H. Stenhouse. It was a fine, sunny morning; everything around me looked charming and lovely. [p. 44]

BIB: Aveson, Robert. Taken from the Eventful Narratives by Robert Aveson, pp. 40-44. (Utah State Historical Society)
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