Christine Marie Larson story of Coming to Utah.

My folks soon became desirous of going to Zion. Father put forth every effort to dispose of their property and to make preparations in the way of spinning and waving and making clothing, that the family might be well prepared for the long journey.

In the spring of 1863 they were ready to start, leaving behind those things that had been their life's ambitions, their new faith and hope prompting them on to face new fields and to strive for new goals. I remember how interested it was to have the neighbors come in to bid us fare well. To prove their good will they gave me and my brother a few coins to enjoy on the journey.

The first interesting experience that comes to my mind now occurred while crossing the North sea, noted for its roughness. Most of the passengers experienced sea-sickness in the most terrible form. Every one was down in their cabin heaving Jonah, except a few children who were old enough to care for themselves. My brother and a friend sat singing Mormon hymns as the engineer happened by. He stopped to listen. Soon it began to rain and the terrific storm came on. The engineer came back and asked the boys to come into the cabin and sing for him. The were very happy to accept but my brother said he would like to go and find his little sister who must be around somewhere, as he father and mother were very sick in their cabin. The man went with Peter to find me and took us both under his care for the night. When morning came, the storm had passed an my poor dear mother struggled forth in search of her missing children, and was grateful to find us so well cared for.

We landed in Scheswig Holstein and were directed to a building with floor covered deep with straw, so that the tired and sick had a chance to lie down and rest. Soldiers were stationed everywhere and I did not like their ugly faces and heavy fierce looking armor. I stayed close to my mother while there.

We went next to Hamburg, from which place our company, consisting of Scandinavian Saints, sailed for England, landing at Grimsby on April 18, 1863. They left Liverpool on 8 May 1863 on the vessel B. S. Kimball and landed in New York on June 15th. We were eight weeks at sea; our food rations not very appetizing -- consisting of sea biscuit, salt meat and dried peas. It was cooked in a general kitchen and came to us so salty that it could hardly be eaten. Mother had brought quite a lot of bread and butter and such food as we best carry on such a journey, but it ran short and then, those sea biscuits! One morning I slept extra long. When I climbed down from the bunk and told Mother I was hungry she spread a sea biscuit thick with butter and gave it to me. It looked good but when I bit into it, it was a different story. I asked if I might have a little piece of our own bread, but it was gone. I began to cry and wished we would soon be in Zion where we could get some bread.

From New York we went to Florence Nebraska and from this place began the long trip across the plains. We came across with the Cache Valley company, which consisted of fifty-five wagons each drawn by four yoke of oxen or cattle. Our captain's name was William B. Preston and our teamster's name was David Reece. The whole train of wagons was loaded to capacity with merchandise before they took on the immigrants. They stuffed in the wagons what they could of the immigrants belongings and tied the rest on the outside and all must walk who could possibly do so. My mother had to ride occasionally as she had not fully recovered from her terrible seasickness, and there was a little corner of the wagon into which they tucked me. My father and brother walked all the way. (She was seven years old at his time.)

The immigrants would start out to walk in the morning as soon as they could and the same way at noon. In this way they avoided the dust of the wagons and could get an occasional few minutes of much needed rest. It was extreemly hot and I sat against the wagon cover. The teamster noticed how quite I soon became as I had little to say to him when he came up to ride. He could leap on the wagon tongue and get up and down without stopping the cattle. He said it was not good for me to sit all the time under the hot cover so when he would get down he would reach back and put his arm around me and boost me down and have me walk along with him until I was tired -- then he would toss me back into the wagon. He couldn't have cared better for his own child than he did for me.

One morning Mother thought she would take me with them when they started out and when I got tired I could sit down and wait until the wagons came along to pick me up. But they had gotten an extra early start and I had a long wait. I was not afraid, none of us realized the danger. But when the good teamster picked me up he said, "You can't go with your mother again. I will take care of you. The Indians might have picked up you."

I had learned some English from the Elders who stayed at our house so much. Now being with the driver so much I had learned to speak English very well. And it was there in the covered wagon and when I was only seven years old that I learned a great deal of the art of courting.

The good driver had not been going around with his eyes closed. There was one young woman who look especially good to him but they could not understand one another. So it happened like this. One morning he motioned for her to come and ride with him, proving true the old saying, "there is always room where there is heart room." But it was not so interesting because they could not understand each other. So he motioned for me to come and sit between them, so that Ii could tell each one what the other said. It went on like that for some time, I acting as their interpreter. But love is such a beautiful language and so easy to learn, so as time went on I was not asked to sit with them. The last time she came and rode in our wagon she told me that when they got to Salt Lake she was going to open her trunk and she would give me material for a new dress.

As I got older and learned the joy of courtship and real love, I wondered that she didn't offer me a half dozen dresses.