“Brethren,” he said even before he reached them, “there’s good news.”
“What?” Derek asked.
“Word of a substantial wagon company coming upriver just reached the fort.”
They all straightened at that, but George Therlkill was a little dubious. George was Brother Crow’s son-in-law and seemed more comfortable challenging him. “No idea who they are yet?”
“No, the rider just said it’s sixty or seventy wagons.”
“Oh,” Little said. “That’s a good sign.”
“It could be just another company of Oregon or California emigrants,” Therlkill persisted. “Let’s not get our hopes up until we know.”
“After two weeks of just sitting here,” Derek said dryly, “I’m willing to get my hopes up for just about anything.”
They nodded in agreement as they chuckled. “I think you’d better load up what wood you’ve cut now,” Bob Crow suggested, “and let’s take it back to camp. Then we’ll go and check out this new company just to be sure.”
Something in his eyes piqued Derek’s curiosity. “Do you know something we don’t, Brother Bob?”
A wide grin spread across Crow’s face. “Yep.” He had all of their attention now.
“What?”
“This company is different in one way from all the others that have come in so far.”
“In what way?” Myers asked eagerly.
“This one is coming along the north side of the river, not the south like all the others.”
Chapter Notes
The incidents and details recalled here by Matthew occurred between 26 April and 29 May and can be read about in the journals.
On 29 May 1847, at a spot a few miles west of Scotts Bluff, near present-day Henry, Nebraska, Brigham Young assembled the men and severely chastised them for the spirit that had taken over the camp. William Clayton recorded the details of that day, including an extensive copy of Brigham’s speech, less than half of which is included here.
After the meeting concluded at one-thirty p.m., Brigham Young quietly gave the order to move out. It was a completely different camp that did so. That night, William Clayton wrote in his journal: “It seemed as though we were just commencing on this important mission, and all realizing the responsibility resting upon us to conduct ourselves in such a manner that the journey may be an everlasting blessing to us, instead of an everlasting disgrace. No loud laughter was heard, no swearing, no quarreling, no profane language, no hard speeches to man or beast, and it truly seemed as though the cloud had burst and we had emerged into a new element, a new atmosphere, and a new society.”
Chapter 40
The Pioneer Company moved forward slowly throughout the day, nooning across the river from the burned-out ruins of a fort. John Brown, with some sadness, explained that this was Fort Bernard, located downriver a few miles from Fort Laramie and run by a trader and mountain man named John Baptiste Richard—or Reshaw, as it was pronounced in French. It had been Reshaw who had volunteered to take the Mississippi Saints to Pueblo. He had left his fort with only two of its walls completed and gone south with the Mormons. While they were in Pueblo, word came that once Reshaw left, someone set fire to his half-completed fort and neatly eliminated the competition it presented to Fort Laramie.
As they prepared to start again, Brigham decided to lead a small party ahead to scout for a campsite. He asked Luke Johnson to bring the Revenue Cutter in case they had to cross the river. John Brown, greatly excited at the possibility of seeing some of the people he had left nine months before, went ahead with them.
About three o’clock a cry went up. The first wagons had come up another small hill, and from there, about four miles to the southwest on the opposite side of the river, could be seen the clear outline of a stockade. Fort Laramie was in sight at last. The excitement went down the line of wagons like a dandelion seed whipped by the wind.
As they topped the gentle hill, Nathan reined up and Matthew stood up in the wagon seat so that he could see better. “Yes sirree,” he exclaimed ecstatically. “It’s a fort, all right. And bigger than I thought it would be.” He sat down again, grinning. “I think we’re going to get a little taste of civilization again, Nathan.”
Nathan slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’m ready enough, that’s for sure.”
Fort Laramie was situated on a level plain about a mile south of the North Platte River and just a few hundred yards west of the Laramie River, or Laramie Fork, as the locals called it. The fort itself stood at the north end of the plain, which left everything to the south of the fort open for camping—Indians along the river, whites more to the west. Robert Crow and the group from Pueblo had arrived at Fort Laramie two weeks before. Wanting to stay clear of the Missouri emigrant companies, they camped to the southwest of the fort about half a mile where no one else would bother them.
When the Mississippi group heard Robert Crow’s report, everyone wanted to go out and meet the incoming company, but Brother Crow finally ruled that just a few of the men should go and make sure who it was. The North Platte was at the height of the spring runoff and was a good quarter of a mile wide now. The swift current carried a lot of debris, including logs that could stave in a wagon or knock a horse off its feet. It wasn’t as if they could wade across to say hello when the company came.
Five of them went, walking past the fort, moving northeastward toward the spot where the North Platte and the Laramie Rivers came together. Just west of that confluence, on the north side of the river, there was a large flat area with plenty of grass that would make a good place to camp. They decided to wait across from there and see what happened. It was nearing four o’clock and the sun was still high.
As they came through a small stand of trees and reached the edge of the water, Robert Crow suddenly started. “Look,” he exclaimed. “There are some riders over there.”
There were two men on horseback and two others on foot leading their horses.
“Can you tell who they are?” George Therlkill asked.
“Not for sure.” A quarter of a mile made it difficult to recognize any features.
“I think that one is Brigham Young,” Derek said, squinting at the one on the ground striding around, his head moving back and forth as he surveyed their potential campsite.
“Do you think so?” Archibald Little asked. “Which one?”
Derek suddenly realized that these men were natives of Mississippi. They did not know Brigham Young. “The one on the left, the one with his hat off.”
They were all peering intently now at the four men.
Suddenly one of the men on horseback started to wave. “They’ve seen us,” Derek said.
Lewis Myers took off his hat and began to wave it wildly. “Hello!” he shouted.
“That could be Heber Kimball with him,” Derek said, feeling his heart start to beat a little faster. “I think it could be them.”
“Hello! Ahoy there across the river!” They all started to shout now.
They heard a shout come floating back, but there was a fairly stiff breeze blowing and it was impossible to make out the words. They shouted again and an answering call came back, but again they could not make out the words.
“This must be their scouts,” Bob Crow said.
Just then George grabbed his father-in-law’s arm. “Look, there’s a wagon.”
They all swung back. Sure enough, from behind a slight rise a wagon pulled by two horses appeared. It was accompanied by two other men on horses. Derek immediately noticed that the wagon did not have the usual canvas cover. To his greater surprise, no other wagons followed behind it. As they watched curiously, the wagon pulled right down to the water’s edge, then swung around. In a moment whoever was driving it started backing the wagon into the river. Now the men on horseback dismounted and those on the ground gathered around it. When they stepped back, there was a boat in the water and nothing but the base of a wagon left on shore.
Robert Crow slapped his leg in
delight. “It’s a boat. They’ve got their own boat.”
It was about half past four when finally Nathan couldn’t stand it any longer. The three wagons in front of him were pulled by oxen and moved ahead much too slowly to satisfy him. “H’yah,” he called softly, pushing the horses into an easy trot and pulling around.
“Good,” Matthew said. “I was about to get out and crawl past them.”
In another three hundred yards, Nathan and Matthew came up over a small rise. There before them lay the swollen North Platte River and beyond that Fort Laramie. Nathan pulled up. Directly below them there was a large meadow right next to the river. They could see several men standing around in a group and Luke Johnson’s wagon, which no longer had the boat on it.
“Look,” Matthew said, noting the same thing. “They’ve got the Revenue Cutter in the river. And look! There are some men on the other side.”
Nathan was looking, but something seemed odd. He counted quickly. Four men, including Brigham, had ridden ahead to scout. Luke Johnson and John Brown had taken the Revenue Cutter, and Port Rockwell and another man had accompanied them. That meant eight had come ahead. But there were twelve men down by the river now and three more on the far side. “They’ve met someone,” he exclaimed. “I’ll bet they brought them across in the cutter.”
This time when he snapped the reins and shouted at the horses, they lunged ahead, jerking the wagon into a bouncing run. They came down the hill, making enough noise to startle every animal and bird within five miles. The men at the river all turned to look. Matthew saw Brigham raise his hand and point in their direction, saying something to the others. No sooner had he done so than one of the men broke away and started running hard toward them.
As the distance between them and the running figure closed to less than fifty yards, Matthew leaped to his feet. Hanging on frantically with one hand, he pounded Nathan’s shoulder with the other. “It’s Derek! It’s Derek!”
“Whoa! Whoa!” Nathan pulled back with all his strength and brought the team to a sliding halt in a cloud of dust and a rattle of stones. Before the wagon had stopped rolling, Matthew leaped off, nearly stumbled, then caught himself and started running. Nathan flung the reins around the brake lever and vaulted over the side. As he sprinted forward, Matthew and Derek collided like runaway ore cars. Down they went, rolling around and around as they pounded each other. Nathan dove into the middle of it, shouting and laughing and yelling.
They finally pulled apart and got to their feet, brushing off the dirt from themselves and each other. “I can’t believe this,” Matthew exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t get our letter?”
“We got the letter you sent from Fort Leavenworth, but that was all.”
Nathan broke in. “We heard there was another sick detachment sent to Pueblo and that you and Rebecca might be part of it, but we never learned for sure.” Suddenly he straightened. “Is Josh with you?”
Derek’s face fell. “No. He stayed with the battalion. Rebecca and I were sent back. And guess who we found?”
“Kathryn,” Matthew said. “Yes, Brother Brown told us all about that. So is she with you now?”
“Waiting anxiously across the river.”
“Well, then,” Matthew cried, “let’s go.”
It was nearly full dark when Derek stepped inside the tent, startling both Rebecca and Kathryn. Rebecca got quickly to her feet, but Kathryn had Nicole in her arms and could only look up.
“Derek!” Rebecca said. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
He went forward and kissed her lightly. “Hi.”
She jabbed at him. “Hi! That’s all you’ve got to say? What took you so long? Tell us! Was it a Mormon company?”
He nodded gravely.
“It was?” Kathryn cried. “Really?”
“Yes, really!” he said, grinning now. “Brother Brigham said to give you both his regards.”
Rebecca clapped her hands together. “Brother Brigham? Really? Oh, Derek. That’s wonderful.”
“What about the family?” Kathryn demanded.
Christopher and Benjamin were up now too, clamoring to know what was happening.
Derek shook his head. “This is the vanguard company. There are only three women in the whole company. More companies are coming, but they’re still a few weeks behind them. Brother Brigham says our family will be with those later companies.”
“Wonderful,” Kathryn said, but she was clearly disappointed.
“So,” Rebecca said, her mind racing now, “what does that mean for us? Are we going to wait here for the family?”
Derek seemed not to hear. It was as though he had just thought of something. “Hold it,” he said. “I’ve got to get something. I brought a little surprise for you.” And without a word he turned and left the tent again.
Rebecca gave Kathryn a puzzled look.
Then the tent flap opened again and Nathan and Matthew stepped inside. Rebecca gasped. Kathryn jerked forward sharply enough that Nicole awoke with a start and started to cry.
“Surprise!” Derek said happily as he came in behind them.
Nathan held Leah on one leg and Benji on the other. Matthew had Nicole in his arms, and Christopher stood behind his uncles, one hand on each of their shoulders. Kathryn just kept shaking her head. “I can’t really believe I’m sitting here with you two again.”
“It has been a long time,” Matthew said. “How long since you and Peter left us in Nauvoo to go to Springfield?”
Her mouth pursed in thought. “Let’s see, we went to Springfield in January, so it’s been almost a year and half since we’ve seen any of you.”
“And it’s been almost a year for us,” Derek said. “You can imagine how surprised and pleased we were when we found that Kathryn was in Pueblo and then we ended up there too.”
“That was a great blessing for both of you,” Nathan said. “Any word at all from Peter, Kathryn?”
She shook her head, her eyes suddenly sad. “None.”
“I’ll bet he’s on his way east already,” Matthew said.
“Uncle Matthew?”
“What, Leah?”
“I love you.”
He bent over, pulling her close. “I love you too, Leah. You’ve grown up on me. You’re so big now.”
“Do you have a wagon, Uncle Nathan?” Benji asked. “We have our own wagon now.”
“Yes, we do. How would you like to bring your wagon and come with us?”
He nodded gravely, then looked at his father. “Can we do that, Papa?”
“We’ll have to see what President Young says, but I think that’s the plan.”
“There’s only one thing that could make all this better,” Rebecca said wistfully, “and that would be if Mother and the rest of the family were here as well.”
They all nodded at that.
“How long before we get to see Grandma?” Christopher asked.
“About a month,” Matthew answered. “Maybe a little longer.”
Derek stood. “Well, children, it’s way past your bedtime now.”
There was a cry of dismay from all three of them, but Derek was unmoved. “There’ll be time enough to visit tomorrow. President Young is going to talk to Mr. Bordeaux and see if he will rent his flatboat to us to bring the wagons across the river. Maybe we can all go down and watch.”
That pacified the children a little, and Leah and Benji slid down from Matthew’s lap.
“How about if we said our family prayer together right here?” Derek suggested. “I think we have a lot to thank the Lord for tonight, don’t you?”
Though the Mormons had traveled alone on the north side of the Platte and the North Platte Rivers, at Fort Laramie that was no longer an option. The terrain along the north of the river was too rough for wagons, and so even though it meant joining the numerous other companies on the Oregon Trail, there was no choice. The day after their arrival across from Fort Laramie, Brigham Young contracted with James
Bordeaux, the trader who ran the post, for the use of his flatboat. For fifteen dollars they could ferry their entire company over. They began ferrying the first wagons across on the third of June, 1847.
That took almost two full days, but they made good use of the time while the wagons were brought over. A blacksmith shop was set up near the fort and coal purchased from Bordeaux to fire it. Many a wagon tire had been loosened by six hundred miles of prairie and these were set again. Tools and harnessing were also repaired. After much discussion it was determined to send someone for the Pueblo Saints. Rather than send Brother Crow or any of his people back again, Brigham picked four men, with Elder Amasa Lyman as their captain. They would go south and guide the nearly two hundred fifty Latter-day Saints who were still at Pueblo back up to Fort Laramie; then they would follow the Pioneer Company to their final destination. They left Fort Laramie headed south on the afternoon of June third.
At noon on the fourth day of June, the Pioneer Company lined up their wagons to the west of the fort. Brother Crow brought his little company and joined their five wagons to the seventy-two of the main company. With the four guides gone, the Pueblo group brought the total number of the company up to one hundred and sixty-one. For the three women of the company, the addition was most significant. Where before there had been only one woman to every fifty men, now that ratio dropped to about one woman to every seventeen men. And Harriet Young’s two children now had companions on the journey.
For the first few days, Kathryn became the unofficial guide for the company, being the only one who had been west of Fort Laramie. She pointed out where the Reeds and the Donners had camped the year before. On the fourth day out, she took Nathan, Matthew, Derek, and Rebecca up Beaver Creek and showed them the natural bridge where she and Peter had decided that she should not continue on further.
Two things were significantly different once they left Fort Laramie. The first was in the nature of the road. The prairie was about a hundred miles behind them now. The North Platte flowed from northwest to southeast, skirting the base of a substantial range of mountains known as the Black Hills. While this made for more timber, grass, water, and game, the deep, soft soil of the Great Plains gave way to flint-hard rock that chewed into the hooves of the oxen and wore out leather soles quickly.
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