Pillar of Light

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Pillar of Light Page 514

by Gerald N. Lund


  She heard a noise and turned around to see Nathan appear from between their wagon and Robert Crow’s. At the look on his face, she turned fully to face him. “What is it, Nathan?”

  He came forward slowly. “I think you’d better sit down, Kathryn.”

  There was a sudden clutch of fear. Her first thought was of Nicole, but she was asleep in the wagon. Kathryn had just checked on her a few minutes before. Then she took a quick breath. Rebecca had taken Leah and the two boys down to watch the men work. “Has something happened?” she cried.

  He shook his head slowly and now he was smiling. He came over and took her gently by the arm, getting her cane for her. He pointed to the small wooden stool they used when they were camped. “Just come and sit down.”

  She allowed herself to be led to the stool and sat down slowly. His smile was reassuring, but her heart was still racing. “What, Nathan? Tell me.”

  He stepped back. Just then, Derek appeared. Strangely, he was wet to his neck, but he too was smiling broadly. “Good,” he said. “You’re sitting down.”

  “What?” She nearly shouted it at them.

  “This,” Nathan said, turning and pointing.

  For almost a full two seconds, Kathryn just stared at the figure that stepped out from between the wagons. The first thing that registered in her mind was the fact that this person too was dripping wet. And then her hands flew to her mouth as it dropped open in total astonishment. Beneath the beard . . .

  “Hello, Kathryn,” Peter said, smiling.

  In one instant her eyes filled with joyous tears. “Peter?” she gasped.

  He stepped forward, grabbing her hands and lifting her to her feet; then he enveloped her in his arms and with infinite tenderness reached down and kissed her.

  Derek and Nathan turned without a word and quietly slipped away to go find Rebecca. Neither Peter nor Kathryn was aware they had left. They clung to each other fiercely for almost a full minute as Kathryn whispered over and over in disbelief, “It’s you. It’s you. It’s you.”

  Finally, she let him go and stepped back. He kissed her again, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Look at you. I’ve gotten you all wet.” He laughed. “We were swimming our horses across but Derek couldn’t wait; he jumped in the river and swam out to meet me.”

  “You think I care about that?” she said.

  He was staring at her, letting his eyes caress every feature of her face. “I can’t believe this. I was planning to go all the way to Pueblo to get you, and here you are.”

  She just shook her head, unable to speak. Then, after a moment, she took his hand. “Come here. There’s someone I want you to see.”

  He followed her to the wagon. She pulled back the canvas, letting the light flood in on Nicole, who was sleeping on her back, her head tipped toward them, her arms spread wide above her head. Kathryn had planned for weeks to say something cute and clever at this moment; but then she heard Peter’s sharp intake of breath. He leaned forward until his body was half inside the wagon and he was looking down on his daughter. “Oh,” he whispered in quiet awe. Kathryn smiled. That was enough. There was nothing more she needed to say.

  When Peter awoke the next morning, for a moment he was disoriented. There were no stars above him, and his first thought was that it was overcast and there would be a chance of rain today. Then he realized that the sky above him was really the tent’s canvas ceiling with the first light of dawn turning it gray.

  He turned his head. Kathryn was up on one elbow watching him, smiling softly. “Good morning.”

  He felt his whole body relax as he fully realized now where he was. “Good morning.”

  She reached out and pushed his hair back away from his forehead. “It’s gotten so long. Between that and the beard, I hardly recognized you.”

  He nodded. “We haven’t seen many barbershops in the last two months.”

  She lay down again, snuggling in closer. He lifted an arm and put it around her. She closed her eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” she murmured. “I still can’t believe that you’re really here.”

  He nodded. “Do you realize that today is the first of July? It was one year ago on the fourth that we decided to take you back.”

  “I remember that very clearly.”

  “One whole year. I never dreamed it would be that long.”

  “Is it true what Brother Brannan was telling the Twelve?” she said, her eyes clouding now. “About the Donners?”

  He nodded, his face grim. “Yes.”

  “But the Reeds are all right. You’re sure?”

  He had assured her of that last night. “Yes. They looked pretty bad, but they came out of it all right. And the Breens. They all made it through as well.”

  “But the Donners? Uncle George and Father Jacob?”

  He looked away. “Gone. And Tamsen too. She refused to leave George, who was pretty far gone by that time. She could have gotten out on two different occasions but she wouldn’t leave him.”

  “I always liked Tamsen,” Kathryn said, her voice sorrowful.

  “So many are gone. Every time I think that you could have been with them, I—” He stopped and just held her more tightly.

  “You were inspired, Peter. I don’t have any question about that. It was the Lord who blessed us both. And then to have Rebecca and Derek show up at Pueblo, it was more than we could have hoped for. It made the winter pass so much more quickly for me.”

  “It’s ironic, isn’t it? You find Derek and Rebecca in Pueblo, and I find Will and Alice in California.”

  “I’m so anxious to see them again. Is their baby cute?”

  “Yes. He’s a little darling. He looks so much like Will, and all you’ve got to do to make Will bust his buttons is tell him that.” He turned and looked toward the small hand-made crib in the corner. “And Nicole. She is so beautiful, Kathryn.”

  “I know,” she said joyfully. “Do you like the name, Peter? We can change it. I wasn’t sure what you’d want.”

  “I love Nicole. It seems to fit her perfectly, with her dark hair and that little button of a nose.”

  “I think so too.”

  They fell silent, each comforted deeply by the warmth and closeness of the other. After a long time, Kathryn pulled back. “You don’t think Brother Brannan is going to convince Brother Brigham to go to California, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Brigham didn’t seem too impressed by the proposal, no matter how passionately Brother Brannan made it. I think that’s why he went off in a bit of a huff last night.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You are?” he asked in surprise. “You don’t want to go to California?”

  She shook her head. “I want only three things, and in this order. First, I want to be with you.”

  “That’s first for me too.”

  “Second, I want to be with the family. It was so good to see Nathan and Matthew again. I’ve been surprised at how much I’ve missed them.”

  “I agree again. I wish Matthew had come on with you. I’d love to see him again.”

  “And third, I want to be with our people. If Brigham says it’s California, then I could be very happy there. If not, then I’ll go where he’s taking us.”

  “I feel exactly the same way,” he said, laying his hand on her cheek. Then he laughed and reached up to kiss her nose. “Ah, Kathryn,” he whispered, “I’ve missed you so.”

  The tears came again. “Not any more than I have missed you, my love,” she whispered. “I think this is the happiest day of my life.”

  Chapter Notes

  There is no record that Brigham Young ever tried to make Jim Bridger pay up on his wager about the bushel of corn. Eventually the Church purchased Fort Bridger and used it as a way station for their emigration and communication routes. Two days after Bridger’s visit, while stopped on the east side of the Green River to build rafts to take their wagons across, the Pioneer Company was astonished when Sam Brannan and two other men rode in fr
om the west.

  Chapter 44

  What is it, Mama?”

  Jessica looked at her daughter and shook her head. “I’m not sure, Miriam. We’ll know in a moment.”

  The wagons of the Daniel Spencer company had moved in a circle around Brother Spencer and two other men who were standing beside a tall pole with a board nailed to the top. Jessica was on the wagon seat with Miriam perched beside her. With the heaviest of the five Steed wagons, Solomon and Jessica had been given the oxen, and so Solomon always walked alongside the animals. Miriam was almost four now and liked to pretend that it was she who was driving the wagon and not her father. She had listened to him enough that she knew all of the commands for controlling the oxen and was constantly shouting “Gee” or “Haw” or “Whoa, boys” at them. Fortunately, the animals completely ignored her.

  At the pole, one of the men reached up with a hammer and knocked down the board nailed on the top. He held it up. “It’s a letter,” he said. He really didn’t need to explain. Scrawled in red chalk on the pole beneath the board were the words “Platte Post Office,” and on the board was written: “Open this and you will find a letter.”

  The people crowded in closer as Elder Spencer took the board and examined it. It had been hollowed out and turned with the opening to the bottom to protect it from the rain. With his pocket-knife Brother Spencer withdrew two folded sheets of paper.

  He looked them over, reading quickly, then turned to his people. “It’s a letter from the Twelve. There’s a report on the trail thus far and some rules that the Twelve have drawn up for the camps.”

  “Read it to us,” someone called.

  “We will read it in camp tonight. For now, I think we’d better push on.” Spencer glanced at the letter again. “But it was dated May ninth, and today is . . .” He looked surprised. “July Fourth. Independence Day.”

  There was a ripple of surprise. No one had thought about this being a holiday.

  “That means we’re only about five weeks behind them. That’s good.”

  On the Fourth of July, the Mormon Ferry at the last crossing of the North Platte River ran from dawn until shortly after dark. Among the emigrant camps there were several small celebrations. Among the nine Latter-day Saints who stayed to run the ferry there was nothing. They were too busy to do any more than remember that this was the birthday of their country.

  As it grew full dark, they tied up the raft for the last time on the south bank of the river. Matthew Steed spoke to Thomas Grover, his captain. “I’ll be back in a little while. I’m just going to take a look around.”

  “We would know if they had come in today, Matthew,” Grover said kindly.

  “I know,” he answered cheerfully, “but you know me. I always like to check.” He waved and moved away. Almost immediately he was amid the wagons, dozens of them, if not hundreds. The sound of many people filled the air—women talking to each other over cooking fires, children playing games, men shouting at their animals or to each other. Dogs barked, cattle lowed, oxen bellowed, horses whinnied. And all of this while waiting for the Mormons to take them across the river. That was something that Matthew had still not grown accustomed to. The emigrant companies journeying to Oregon and California were coming in so quickly that there was now a four- to five-day wait to be ferried across, even though the ferry ran from dawn to dark.

  He turned his head and looked at the glimmer of water off to his left. The water level in the river was dropping noticeably each day. Instead of the hundred yards across it had been when the Pioneer Company had first arrived, it was now about half that width, though the water was still too deep and swift for a safe crossing. But that would change soon enough. Once it was safe to ford the river, the boating team, as instructed by Brigham, would cache the ferry, close up the blacksmith shop with its two forges, and head for home. The only problem being, where was home? Currently three of the men planned to go back to Winter Quarters for their families. Matthew and two others would turn west and follow Brigham Young. Three others would go to Fort Laramie and wait for Brigham when he returned to Winter Quarters.

  Having encircled the various encampments, Matthew was satisfied that no new companies large enough to be Mormon had come in. He turned in discouragement and started back for their camp. His daily hope was that the company in which his own family was traveling would show up and then he could go with them to the Salt Lake Valley. But at this rate, the ferry would be shut down in two more weeks, three at the most. Then what would he do?

  A little over two hundred miles farther west, the ferrying of the Pioneer Company across the Green River was done. They moved about five miles downriver to a better camping site, then made camp to wait out the Sabbath.

  The Sabbath, by chance, was also the Fourth of July, Independence Day. Brief mention was made of it during worship services, but other than that the only celebration came when Elder George A. Smith discovered a long snowbank left by the winter winds on the north side of a hill not far from the river. He and some others took his wagon and fetched a load of snow, then mixed sugar with it and they all had a bowl of “ice cream.” It was a refreshing treat.

  While camped there, the Twelve determined to send a letter summarizing their experience along the trail back to the following companies. Five men were chosen to take the letter back, then serve as guides to their brother and sister Saints. That afternoon, Brigham and three others of the Twelve rode north with the five men to see them safely across the river. While they were gone the camp wrote letters or in their journals, read, rested, and otherwise waited for the Sabbath to pass. The fact that it was Independence Day was barely noted. Tomorrow they would turn west again, heading for the next important landmark on the trail, Fort Bridger.

  All of the Steeds were gathered around their campfire, hoping that the smoke would drive off the mosquitoes. They talked quietly with each other, and Peter told them all that had happened since he and Kathryn had split up. Derek suddenly straightened. “Look,” he said, “Brother Brigham and the Twelve are returning.”

  He was looking upriver. When they turned they saw a large party of men approaching the camp.

  “Uh-oh,” Nathan said. “They must not have been able to get the men across the river.” Brigham had taken only three other members of the Twelve with him to see off the five guides, but many more than just four were coming now.

  “Wait a minute,” Rebecca cried. “Those aren’t the same men. Look, Derek, they have white belts and bandoliers. They’re battalion men.”

  Derek stood slowly, peering forward, seeing what Rebecca had seen. He could scarcely believe his eyes. Battalion men? Out here?

  The oncoming men were just fifty or sixty yards away now. One of the men suddenly started jumping up and down and waving. “Derek! Derek!”

  “That’s Tom Williams,” Rebecca exclaimed with joy.

  “It is!” Derek nearly shouted it. “It’s part of the detachment from Pueblo.”

  Now cries were going up and down the rest of the camp as they realized that Brigham Young was returning with about a dozen men. Derek broke into a run. Robert Crow gave a cry and sprinted after him. Kathryn and Rebecca started after Derek, Peter helping Kathryn, who hadn’t taken time to get her cane. Nathan fell in with them. “These are our friends,” Kathryn explained excitedly. “This is who we spent the winter with.”

  Soon almost everyone in the camp was moving out to greet the newcomers.

  On seeing the camp approaching, Brigham Young formed the men into a line with him and the other Apostles at the head. As he did so, Derek, Bob Crow, and the other runners in front slowed to a stop.

  Brigham waited until the others had come up as well, then held up his hand for silence. “Brethren and sisters,” he said loudly, “imagine our surprise when we took our five brethren to the ferry this afternoon and found thirteen men on the opposite bank. Much to our joy and surprise, they are members of the Mormon Battalion. They are part of Captain James Brown’s detachment that wintered at P
ueblo. Elder Amasa Lyman and those we sent from Fort Laramie to lead them back have found them and are bringing them along.”

  “Where’s everybody else?” Derek called.

  Sergeant Williams answered. “They’re about a week behind us.”

  Brigham glanced at the men behind him, then explained. “They had some horses stolen, and Captain Brown sent thirteen men ahead to recover them, which they have done. But when they learned that we were a short distance ahead of them on the trail, they decided to ride hard to try to catch us.”

  Derek counted swiftly. There were only twelve of his former companions.

  As though he had asked the question, Brigham answered. “One of their number, Brother William H. Walker, learned that his family is with one of the following companies, so he determined to go back with our five guides.”

  Derek moved over beside Nathan. “Sergeant Williams is the one who first took Josh under his wing and became his teacher and mentor,” he whispered. “You’ll like him a lot.”

  “This is a glorious occasion,” Brigham proclaimed. “After sending these brethren off to serve almost one full year ago now, they have returned to our midst. I say that this calls for a cheer to welcome them home.”

  He raised his hand, fist clenched. “Ready? Hip, hip, hurrah! Hip, hip, hurrah! Hip, hip, hurrah!” It came out as a mighty roar as more than a hundred and fifty voices joined in unison.

  “I also propose a ‘Glory to God’ for their safe return,” the President shouted when the sound died away. “Ready?”

  Now men straightened and removed their hats. On signal, as one voice, they let their gratitude ring. “Hosannah! Hosannah! Hosannah! Give glory to God and the Lamb. Amen!”

  With that, the battalion men and the camp members broke ranks and swarmed around each other in joyous welcome.

 

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