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Dear Mama,
It is June 30th and we are now travelling along the Platte River. It will be our guide for a while yet, however it is not good water to drink. By now another has died. It was the child of Judge Morin. I was not acquainted with him. Still, it is a sad thing for anyone to dies so young.
The weather lately warns of coming winter. SO much hardship already and I cannot wait to reach California. William, Heather, and I are all very grateful to be out of the way of misery of some of our companions.
The leader of our wagons has been changed once already and I do not doubt that it will again. This is the cause of most of my anxiety. So many people with different personalities working together can cause so many problems though we try and avoid it at all cost. Do not think we are having too much difficulty. We are actually very pleased with the goings on in the group. Little to complain about is a happy thing. And I must tell you, we are in the middle of the most beautiful country. I wish I could paint you a picture but it would not do the sight justice.
I do not write much, Mother, because I have been finding ways to occupy the time. I often talk with other women about my age, many of whom are also young mothers. Heather is making friends and plays very amiably with Margret Isabella Breen, Jeremiah Foster, and Naomi Pike. These are the source of particular delight for many of the families as the four travel from wagon to wagon amazed at the simplest of pleasures.
Buffalo have been spotted and hunted. I have not seen any alive yet myself, but they are delicious and their hides are enviously thick. I feel very adventurous cooking bison out in the wide prairies! Also, we use the leavings of the animals as a perfect substitute for wood as the trees are scarce here. I can here your scolding at this last statement, Mother, all the way from home! But I have not become a wild western girl and there is no fear of it. The hot weather makes us glad and takes our minds off the hurry we felt when the wind had turned cold.
We reached Fort Laramie and the men discussed heavily about whether we are to take the shortcut that Hastings advertised. Considering that Hastings was the final persuasion for us to even embark to California, I believe we are to try it. I am told, and I believe, that it is a safer passage since it is a significantly shorter distance than going around as all have done before us, and I have suggested to William that we try it.
William has just come back from a meeting with many of the men. He says there was a man who had just come from Hastings' new route and who advised against it. My mind has been changed since this news but William insists that our people were not persuaded we are sure of the shortcut’s safety. Still, I am unsure and would like to continue on the known trail. My pioneering spirit is satisfied with just being this far from home and civilization. But I will listen and follow as it seems necessary. Our company is large and we will be safe.
We are at the Great Salt Lake. It is beautiful. But more wonderful is the mountain range that rises high against the sky. There is nowhere to go where you cannot see it. It makes the mountains in the east look like small hills. I’ve seen the illustrations, but nothing could prepare me for it. They are so high that, though it is warm where we are, the peaks of the mountains are covered with snow! If we could just stay here, I would be content. Even without the lifestyle of a true civilization, my stay here would mean a lifetime of staring up into the mountains and no fear of treading on Hastings’ mysterious path.

I send you this letter with great hope for the future and very little unease.,
Your ever loving daughter,
Amanda McCutchen
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