Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 (20 page)

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Authors: Victoria Murata

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BOOK: Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852
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Rebecca’s brow furrowed and she sighed. “James, don’t take any chances. Your life is more important than those trees.”

“I’ve brought my trees this far, and I’m going to get them all the way to Oregon. This crossing isn’t much different than the Green River or the Platte.” Even as he heard himself saying the words, he knew it wasn’t the truth. He was trying to convince himself as much as he was Rebecca.

“Pa said to let him know whenever you’re ready.” She looked at James entreatingly. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

He saw the concern in her eyes. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. I’ll be fine, and so will my trees.” He hugged her warmly and then joined Slim to make preparations for the crossing.

The Loss

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

A little more than an hour later, James’ wagons were lined up and ready to go. Thomas Benson and Sam were there to help him, as well as his hand Slim, Michael and Conor Flannigan, and a few other men. They had just watched a cart and two mules get turned upside down while fording the last part of the river. Then the mules got entangled in the harness, and they would have drowned except for the desperate struggle of their owner and some of the other men. Some Indians were watching also. They were the pilots who could be hired for a fee to help with the crossings. James clenched his jaw and muttered under his breath. He knew this wouldn’t be easy, but he was beginning to think it might be impossible.

James and Slim led the first team down the steep embankment. It wasn’t as slippery as it had been the day before, but they still had a hard time. Thomas, Sam, Michael, and two other men pulled against ropes tied to the back of the wagon to keep it from running over the team.

“Easy. Don’t pull on the ropes. Keep a steady pressure,” Michael cautioned from his position. Finally, the team and wagon were at the river’s edge.

“Sam and Conor, you all go up and help Slim hold the team while we bring the second one down,” James called.

Again, with Thomas and the two other men straining against ropes to ease the wagon slowly downhill, the second team was soon at the river’s edge. Now came the tricky part.

“Let’s tie these ropes around the necks of the oxen and lead them into the river,” James said. He and Michael waded in up to their chests and the current pushed against them. They got a good lead, and then they pulled on the ropes while Thomas, Slim, and the other men prodded the oxen from behind. The oxen bellowed loudly and fought against the ropes, but eventually they started across. Two of the men helped to stabilize the back of the wagon while it floated precariously against the current. They made it to the first island and took a short rest before starting for the second.

Rebecca and Brenna watched nervously from the top of the embankment.

“I wish James had hired the Indian pilots,” Rebecca said nervously.

Brenna squeezed her arm. “I’m sure they’ll make it across.”

Other men and women were watching the wagon and the men trying to keep it stable while fighting the push of the current against them. They had made it to the second island and were starting across the widest part of the river. A half mile of rushing water lay between them and the far shore. Rebecca realized she had been holding her breath and she let it out in a rush. This was the same spot where the mules and the cart had tipped over.

“It looks like they’re having a hard time balancing the wagon!” Rebecca exclaimed.

The wagon began to pitch in the turbulent water. The men trying to hold it steady were frantically struggling against the current, but the force was too strong and the wagon rolled onto its side. Thomas shouted to Sam, “Get out of the way! What are you trying to do?” when Sam attempted to get under the wagon to push it up.

The oxen bellowed loudly as the tipped wagon strained the harnesses and pulled the oxen under water. One of the men cut the harnesses to keep the oxen from drowning. Rebecca could hear wood splintering from her position on the bank and she screamed when she saw James yell something to Thomas and begin to swim to the wagon, but it was free of the harnesses and it was swept away swiftly. Some of the trees floated out of the wagon and were carried away or disappeared in the river.

To Rebecca’s horror, James seemed to be carried away also, but he had knotted a rope around his waist, and it was still tied to one ox that was yoked to the other. When he got to the end of it, he was pulled back by Thomas and the other men. The oxen were trying to turn around to swim back to the bank they had left, and it took the efforts of all the men to get them across. Once on the other side, they rested for a short time.

“Oh, Brenna! This is terrible,” Rebecca said, and Brenna put her arms around her friend.

Rebecca could see the men conferring, and then they forded back for the second wagon. She saw the disappointment and exhaustion on James’s face. He kept looking down river as if he expected to see the wagon washed up on shore. Then he looked up the hill at Rebecca and his face was grim. Rebecca realized she must look terrified, and she struggled to keep her expression calm.

She watched the men discuss the best approach to getting the second team and wagon across. Clearly, a better plan was needed.

“Let’s use Hansson’s canoes to float the wagon. It’s worked at other crossings,” Michael suggested.

James thought for a moment. “Alright. I’m not sure it will work since my wagons are heavier than most and they can’t be unloaded, but I can’t think of what else to do.”

Ben Hansson floated the canoes over to the men. He and his father had successfully gotten their wagon across the river earlier. They unhitched the team and six of them got the wagon onto the canoes and started across the river, each man in position to keep the canoes and wagon stable.

“I think they’re going to make it over,” Brenna said.

Everything seemed to be going well until the last stretch. The canoes were ungainly in the strong current, and one of them began to dip from side to side. The wagon began to pitch, and try as they might, the men couldn’t keep it upright. This wagon, too, overturned, spilling its contents into the Snake. James frantically grabbed a wheel and tried in vain to hold the wagon, but the current quickly snatched it from him and the wagon rolled under water.

“James!” Rebecca screamed.

Thomas had grabbed a hold of James when James grabbed the wheel, and he pulled the distraught man to his feet. All the men were shouting, and the people watching from shore were exclaiming their dismay. A few men started wading into the river to give their aid if it was needed. There was nothing left for James and the others to do but return to shore. They were all exhausted and discouraged, but none more so than James. He collapsed onto his knees on the shore of the Snake River and put his head in his hands. Rebecca half ran and half slid down the embankment and threw her arms around him.

“James! James! You’re safe! Thank God, you’re safe! You almost drowned out there!”

“I wish I had!” he said breathlessly. He looked up at her, his face contorted with grief and dripping muddy water. “It’s all gone! Every last tree is gone, Rebecca. All my hopes and dreams; everything I’ve worked for—gone. There’s nothing left.”

Rebecca swallowed hard. How could she console this man she had grown to love and admire? Her heart wrenched when she looked at him, and she put her hands on both sides of his face. “James, no! All you’ve lost is the trees! You still have everything else. You still have all your skills and talents. You can grow anything, James. You can get seeds and start a nursery. Mr. Luelling will give you cuttings from his trees. And you still have me, James. I’m going to be by your side every step of the way because I believe in you. Don’t for one minute think there’s nothing left.”

James looked into Rebecca’s eyes and saw the conviction of her words. Drawing on her strength, he took a ragged breath and stood up. They put their arms around each other and struggled up the muddy embankment. Fellow travelers helped them up the hill and gave James encouragement and offers of help for the remainder of the trip. Many told James that they were dubious about the trees at first, but after getting to know James, they had no doubts that he would do exactly as he said he would. They had great admiration for him and his ideals, and they hoped he would pursue his dreams in Oregon. James humbly thanked everyone. Thomas Benson and Michael Flannigan came up.

“We’re going to hire the Indian pilots to ferry our wagons over, James. They’ll take the stock over, too. The river is too treacherous, and they seem to know the best places to cross,” Thomas said. “We’ll get them to take your team across, too.”

James nodded numbly.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity as one wagon after another crossed the Snake. The Indian pilots proved to be skillful and knowledgeable. Their experience after years of ferrying wagons to the other side was invaluable, but still some wagons and livestock were lost, and a young boy was swept away in the Snake. At the end of the long day, it was decided that James would travel with the Bensons the remainder of the way to Oregon. Slim was a good hand, and Captain Wyatt knew him well. He needed Slim since one of the scouts had died of cholera.

James and Rebecca were inseparable after the ordeal, and knowing looks would pass between them. James never spoke again of his lost fruit trees, but in the evenings, he and Rebecca made many plans about their future in Oregon, and it wasn’t too long before his easy smile and good humor returned. The future was bright again, and when he looked into Rebecca’s eyes, he saw his hope reflected back and he knew that together they could weather any storm.

Cholera!

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

August 23, 1852

“Ma! Da! Mr. Hinton is dead!” Brenna exclaimed breathlessly as she ran into camp. Michael and Kate Flannigan looked up in alarm from their evening tea.

“What? Brenna, are you sure?” Michael asked, getting up from his seat by the fire.

“I was at the Muellers’, and Nellie had been with Miss Emily. Mr. Hinton had been sick all day. He got so dehydrated, and he couldn’t keep anything down. And he had the most terrible thirst. Then a short while ago he collapsed, and no one could revive him. He’s dead, Da! Reverend Mueller says it’s cholera!”

“Who’s with Miss Emily?” Kate asked.

“Nellie and Reverend Mueller are there, but Billy Walters just came and asked Reverend Mueller to come to their wagon because his wee sister is sick. Mrs. Baker and her youngest are very sick. James Cardell is with them. Reverend Mueller thinks they have cholera, too!”

Michael’s face was grim. They had seen countless graves along the trail, and although their company had lost a few people to the dread disease, he had hoped they would escape the worst of it.

“We’ll go and see what we can do,” Michael said. “Brenna, stay with Conor.”

When Michael and Kate got to the Hinton’s wagon, Reverend Mueller had already left to visit the Walters. Nellie was with Emily.

“Miss Emily, we just heard about Mr. Hinton. We are so sorry!” Kate said as she went up to Emily, who looked to be in shock. Buster sensed something was amiss, and he whined softly and circled Emily. Kate put her arms around the young woman’s shoulders and led her to the fire.

“Where is Ernest’s body?” Michael asked Nellie quietly.

“He’s in the tent,” Nellie answered. “A few of the men are digging graves.” She indicated the direction the men had gone with their shovels. “Three so far; Mrs. Baker and one of her children will be buried with Ernest. I don’t know what John will find at the Walters’ wagon.”

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