Read The Fugitive Son Online

Authors: Adell Harvey,Mari Serebrov

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Teen & Young Adult, #Historical Fiction, #Historical Romance

The Fugitive Son (7 page)

BOOK: The Fugitive Son
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Elsie wanted desperately to confess her own abolitionist views. But until she got far away from Kentucky, it was too dangerous, no matter how much she might trust her new friend. “I suppose you might be right,” she said agreeably. With a quick change of subject, she asked, “And how have you found your trip so far?”

Mary immediately launched into a long description of their trip from New York, down the Ohio, past the coalfields of Virginia and the mills at Pittsburgh. “I had no idea how big this country is,” she said. “And I’m sure it will seem a whole lot bigger by time we get to our new home in Illinois.”

It was Mary’s turn to change the subject. “Dear me, I’ve been doing far too much chattering. Mama always says I’m a magpie! Forgive me for hogging the conversation.” She turned directly toward Elsie. “Tell me, aren’t you the least bit frightened of going across Indian country? And aside from the problems in Kansas, there are the Mormons. Did you know the president is sending an army to fight them? Everyone’s getting ready for what they’re calling the Utah War.”

“Utah War? My brothers warned me about the violence in Kansas, but this is the first I’ve heard of a war in Utah. Ned and Peter mentioned the Mormons in their letters a few times, but I really don’t know much about them.” Elsie sighed as she twisted one of her curls. “I reckon I’ll be safe enough. My journey won’t take me into Utah. I’m splitting off the trail into Santa Fe long before then.”

“Isn’t Santa Fe part of Utah Territory?” Mary asked. “I thought the Mormons claimed most of the western country.”

Elsie shrugged her shoulders. “As I said, I don’t know anything about the Mormons, Santa Fe, or for that matter, anything beyond River Bend, Kentucky. That was my life for all my nineteen years, and all I really cared about. When Mama and Papa died and my brothers sent for me, I just up and sold everything. So here I am.”

“Oh, you poor darling,” Mary soothed. “Going off into the unknown without anyone to help you. I have John and his family. I hated leaving my brother and sisters, but at least I can put all the shenanigans of the Mormons and their ilk behind me.”

“I thought they were all in Utah,” Elsie interjected.

Mary laughed. “Joseph Smith, who fancied himself a prophet, grew up close to my grandparents. His family was always stirring up trouble. Everyone just thought they were a bit touched, what with their money digging, seer stones, and other schemes. Then when Joseph said he found golden plates and started his new religion, things really took a turn. I won’t bore you with all the things that went on… bank fraud, false stories, stealing in the name of God. That was years ago. Then he gathered quite a huge following, especially among immigrants.”

Mary shook her head as she continued, “My mother, who was born in Rome, New York, told me about locals who tried to fool overly religious travelers with ‘evidence’ of buried giants. They would mix cattle bones with human bones to make an elongated skeleton and bury it in a recently plowed field. Then they’d unearth it as proof that the giants mentioned in the Bible had existed in America. It was a spin-off from Joseph's claims that the Lost Tribes of Israel had come to New York centuries ago.”

Elsie looked at Mary in disbelief.

“Some of his followers in New York are still trying tricks like that.” Mary pulled her wrap closer around her shoulders as a cool breeze wafted over them. “All it proves to me is there’s a fool born every minute.”

As Mary stopped to catch her breath, Elsie tried to take it all in. Mercy, were there really people like that in the United States?

“I’ve heard tell that the Mormons have been run out of every place they tried to set up their own government so they could practice their religion. New York, Ohio, Missouri, Illinois.” Mary ticked the states off on her fingers. “You would have thought they would have seen the truth when Joseph was killed several years ago while he was in jail for burning down a printing press that had dared to print the truth about his practice of plural wives…”

“Plural wives?” Elsie was aghast. “You mean they have more than one wife?”

“Lots more. Joseph married twenty or thirty women in what he called ‘celestial marriages.’” Mary lowered her voice and added confidentially, “But there was nothing celestial about it. He slept with each of them.”

The thought of such a thing made Elsie want to wash her ears out.

Seeing her new friend’s interest, Mary continued, “Oh, yes! It’s become so bad that the government is taking action. John told me the Republican platform included a plank about ending the twin evils of slavery and polygamy. And just a month ago, on the Democrat side, Stephen Douglas spoke out against the Mormons.

“When President Buchanan told the Mormons in Utah to accept a new governor and obey the laws of the United States, they rebelled. So he ordered the Army…”

A loud thud interrupted Mary’s tale, followed by an awful scraping screech. Mary and Elsie grabbed for a deck rail as the boat shook and slithered sideways.

Deckhands rushed around in an orderly fashion, as if this were a routine occurrence. Elsie caught enough snatches of their words to understand they’d run aground on a sandbar, whacking against the Amulet, another steamboat. It looked like they might have a long night’s layover, as the rudder had been damaged during the crash and many repairs would be needed.

Elsie looked over the rail. The slaves were preparing to tow the boat to relative safety higher up on the sandbar. She scanned the sea of bodies, trying to spot Isaac who generally stood at least a head above other men. There he was! Hefting and tugging on a huge rope, Isaac managed to loosen the boat and get it started the few feet up toward higher ground.

Elsie leaned out over the deck rail and fluttered her handkerchief. “Isaac!”

He glanced up, his mouth widening into a huge grin. “Miss Elsie! Is you all right?”

“I’m shaken, but fine,” she called back. “And you?”

He flashed their secret hand sign, the gesture they had used as children when one of them got into trouble and the other promised to stand by. Elsie recalled the many times she had endured Mama’s scolding while trying not to smile as Isaac held up his hand in the signal that meant, “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of this!” Then there were the times he had stood silently beside her when she was sent to stand in the corner. If everyone had a faithful friend like Isaac, the world would certainly be a much better place.

Giggling, Elsie returned the signal and managed to call out, “Meet me at the dock when we get to Cairo!” just before the other slaves joined him and successfully maneuvered the big boat onto dry land.

Chapter 5

Bannock Camp

A
NDY WOKE
up shivering. He figured the tremors were due to the cold mountain air until he realized someone had placed a buffalo robe over him. Then he remembered the nightmares that had disturbed his sleep and the uncertainty about what today would bring. No wonder he was shivering!

The same girl who had fed him last night stood nearby with a bowl of gruel made from the rice grass seeds he had watched the women pounding last night. Breakfast already? The canyon was so deep and the forest so dark, the sun hadn’t yet shown its presence over the rim. In truth, Andy almost wished the sun would stand still as it had in biblical times. He was in no hurry for this day to begin and the soldiers appear to seal his fate.

After finishing the surprisingly tasty mush, Andy passed the time by watching the trout in the river making a breakfast of mosquitoes and other flying insects that ventured too close to the water. He looked on in amusement as the huge trout used their tails and fins to jump up high enough to snatch a low-flying bug. The good Lord surely provided food enough for all his creatures, he reflected.

Unbidden, another thought flashed through his mind. How could a loving, creative God who made all this beauty be so demanding, so cruel? And how could a God who even provides for the fish demand blood atonement from someone who questions the church leaders?

Struck by the contradiction, Andy struggled to pull himself up to lean against the tree.
Heavenly Father cares so much for these lowly trout
, he mused to himself.
All they have to do is swim along and trust him to send food now and then. Yet, we, his own children, whom he says he loves more than anything, have to struggle for everything we do – just like how hard I had to work simply to sit up and lean against something. Does Heavenly Father love the fish in the river more than he loves me, his very own child?

None of it made sense. If God really was his Heavenly Father ever since he was a spirit child in eternity past, where was that fatherly love and concern now?
If I had children I loved, I wouldn’t make their lives so difficult and force them to endure hardships like the handcart trek
, Andy couldn’t help but think,
I’d do everything I could to keep them safe
.

The sound of a bugle ripped through the canyon. Andy knew that sound. He had heard it many times near Fort Laramie – the clarion call of soldiers announcing their arrival. This one echoed off the steep, red canyon walls, sounding more like a bugle band than a single horn. Regardless of what Heavenly Father had in store for him this day, surely it wouldn’t hurt to beg him for mercy one last time. Andy bowed and prayed earnestly.

As the small contingent of cavalry from Fort Laramie approached the camp, the chief stood to greet them. The soldier at the front of the queue dismounted and clasped the chief’s hand, then gave him a brotherly hug. Obviously, the two were good friends. They talked for a short time, then both looked over in Andy’s direction. It was clear he was the subject of their conversation.

They came closer to where he was bound, and Andy looked up into a familiar pair of eyes – eyes that immediately flashed recognition right back at him. The two held a firm gaze for several seconds, but neither spoke.

Finally, Andy murmured, “Major Crawford?”

The major remained silent for a moment that seemed an eternity to Andy.
My fate is in his hands, and he hates me – the Mormon who led two beautiful young women away from the safety of his fort
, Andy thought. The situation couldn’t get any worse.

Andy was taken aback when the major held out his hand. “Andy.” The name was spoken simply, more as a statement than a greeting.

The chief smiled in relief. It was apparent that he hadn’t wanted to take time from the hunt to deal with a captive. “He is one of yours, then?

“Not exactly one of ours. But a good man. We’ll take care of him.” Major Crawford replied. Turning to Andy, he said, “The chief tells me you were looking for the Army. Wanting to join up?” He grinned widely to show Andy he was joshing and that he knew full well why Andy was looking for them. “Still scouting for Old Brigham?”

“It’s a long story,” Andy said quietly.

“We’ll have plenty of time when we head back to Laramie. You can tell me all about it.”

So he was to be a prisoner – probably the first in the Utah War. Andy wondered whether the Army shot prisoners or locked them up.

“Untie him and let him stretch his legs,” Major Crawford ordered his men. “And give him back his horse, his rifle, and his duffel. He’ll need them on the long ride ahead.”

The soldiers seemed bewildered as they returned Andy’s possessions. And Andy was equally bewildered. Why was Major Crawford being so kind to him? Was he plotting some wicked revenge later, when they were away from the friendly Indians?

The soldiers finished their business with the Bannock, doing some highly effective trading. They loaded plenty of berries, dried fish, and other natural provisions into their saddle packs in exchange for the beaver and buffalo robes they had previously bargained for in the north.

The chief and Major Crawford decided to forgo the usual day of games and sports, as both groups had important business to attend to. The Bannock needed every spare minute to get their hunting done before returning to their own boundaries. The soldiers knew the Mormons were heading their way, and they were hoping to meet up with the troops from Kansas as soon as possible.

BOOK: The Fugitive Son
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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