Uncle Billy Rodgers, from Peoria, Ill., was a fellow passenger of mine
when crossing the plains in 1849 in the first division of the "Turner,
Allen & Co. Pioneer Mule Train," consisting of 40 wagons, 150 mules and
150 passengers. He was a gambler before he left home and he gambled all
the way across the plains. Many people think that a gambler has no heart
but this man was all heart. I knew him on one occasion, after visiting a
sick man in camp, to take off his shirt and give it to the sick man and
go about camp for an hour to find one for himself.

We arrived in California on September 10, 1849. We parted about that
time and I saw no more of him until the winter of '68 and '69 when I was
on my way to White Pine in Nevada. We had to lay over a few days at
Elko, Nevada, in order to get passage in the stage. As we had saddles
and bridles we made an effort to get some horses and furnish our own
transportation, and we had partly made arrangements with a man by the
name of Murphy. The day previous to this I overheard a conversation
between two gentlemen sitting at the opposite end of a red hot stove.
After they parted I approached the one left and said, "Is this Uncle
Billy?" He said, "Yes, everybody calls me 'Uncle Billy' but I do not
know you." I gave him my name and he was as glad to see me as I was to
see him. We had a long and very pleasant chat.

Now to take up the line of march where I left off, I said, "Hold on boys
a little while I go and see a friend of mine." "All right," said they. I
called on Uncle Billy and told him what we were doing and asked him what
kind of a man Murphy was, and his answer was, "He's a very good
blacksmith," and repeated it two or three times, then said, "I am in a
wild country and never say anything against anybody." I said, "That's
enough Uncle Billy, I understand you thoroughly." I parted with him and
we took the stage for Hamilton and Treasure Hill. The last I heard of