Chapter Seventeen

FORT BRIDGER

“INDEPENDENCE ROCK IS NINE OR ten days west of Fort Laramie,” Marshall told them. “Most wagon trains have been able to reach it by the Fourth of July, but instead it’ll be more toward the last of July for us. I’d like to believe we can make up some of the lost time, but the roughest part of the journey is still ahead. Right now, we’re about three hundred miles from South Pass. The South Pass is at the Continental Divide that marks the half-way point of our trip.”

A rumble of disbelief and discouragement followed. How disheartening to realize they hadn’t completed half the journey yet. By the looks on their faces, many questioned if they could even make it.

“If we lose any more time, we should probably start traveling on Sundays. The only problem with that is we’ll need a lay-by day even more as the trip gets harder. We have the mountains coming up.”

“I wish we hadn’t come.”

“This is harder than I ever imagined.”

“Are we even going to make it?”

“I’m so tired now I don’t know where I’ll find the energy to keep going.”

The pessimistic comments flew. Jacob looked at Faith, and she smiled at him.

“We’ll be fine,” she said. “This will be an adventure we can tell to our children.”

He raised his eyebrows to ask her the silent question. She laughed.

“No, you don’t need to worry. Not yet.”

The rest at Fort Laramie had refreshed Faith and Jacob. As they started off, Jacob enjoyed the fact his wife now walked beside him. He should have abandoned the second wagon sooner. Now the oxen could be rested every other day, and that would help. The mountains and the remainder of the journey would be hard on the livestock, too, and Jacob feared finding them places to graze would become an increasingly difficult task.

“You surprised me by how well you can shoot. What else can you do that I don’t know about?” Jacob asked Faith as they walked along beside the wagon and team.

“I don’t think there’s anything else. I lived on the little mountain farm, and we mostly lived off what we had.”

“Can you skin rabbits, dress out a deer, tan leather, or clean fish?”

“Yes on all of those.”

“What would you like to do that you can’t?”

She thought a moment. “Well, Aunt Mabel liked to spin and weave, so she took care of those, and I never learned. I did all the dyeing of the yarn, though. I also remember Mama embroidering and doing fancy needlework, but Aunt Mabel didn’t see the worth of fancy needlework. She had me sewing and mending instead, but I’d like to know how to do the pretty stitching, too.”

“If you could have any small item that you don’t have, what would it be?”

“Some writing implements and a diary or paper.” She answered right away this time. “I used to love to write when I was younger, but I didn’t write well then. I read my books and studied my dictionary when I moved to Kentucky, but I never had a way to write, except in the dirt with a stick. I think I’d like to keep a journal or do something to improve my writing. Why all these questions?”

“I want to get to know you better. I think your shooting talent made me realize there’s still a lot I don’t know about you, and we’ve been so tired at the end of most days we haven’t been able to carry on lengthy conversations.”

“That may be even truer for me. I don’t know much about your childhood, your college days, or what you were thinking when you met Lucille. Is it okay to ask about Lucille?”

“It is, but I have to admit that wasn’t the best period in my life, and I’m not proud of what happened or why it happened, but you can ask me anything. Let’s see now.” He paused to decide how to condense his story down.

“My childhood was pretty normal for a Virginia planter. Mama taught me until I turned twelve. She also taught me about God and the Bible. At twelve, Charles’ tutor started teaching me in preparation for college. I attended William and Mary because that’s what my parents expected. I liked to learn, so I didn’t mind. I never really fit in, because many of the other students liked to frequent the taverns and participate in other activities in which I wanted no part. Others liked me well enough, but I didn’t belong to any groups nor did I have any very close friends. I spent most of my time studying, and I did quite well academically.”

“I’d known of Lucille for most of my life, since she lived in the Richmond area, like me, but I’d never been around her often. Even on the occasions when she and I did attend the same affairs, she never noticed me. She always had plenty of other admirers hovering around her. When she wanted to walk in the garden with me at the harvest ball held at her house, I felt flattered. You already know how she tricked me into marrying her. Her father took me into his office and told me, since I’d been alone with her in her bedroom, marrying to save her reputation was the only honorable thing to do. I’d been in the bedroom with her for less than five minutes, but I knew people would still gossip about it. Since she’d always been so sought-after and had turned down innumerable other offers, I felt proud to marry her. I should have remembered pride goeth before a fall. She remained demurely flirtatious and seemed to dote on me until we were married. From the moment we said our vows, everything changed. You read her diary, so you know what I mean.”

“But you didn’t love her?” Faith asked softly, apparently unsure if she should ask again. He understood her need for reassurance.

“I thought I did at first, but the longer we were married, the harder it became. I knew I didn’t feel the deep love I wanted to have for my wife, but I hoped it would grow over time. It didn’t grow at all, but I tried to be a good husband anyway. I was happy and proud when she told me she expected our baby. I hoped the newborn would pull us closer together. I never suspected Rudy wasn’t my son. I should have, because there’d been clues. Her father had been right about me being naïve. They picked the right man to hoodwink.”

“I think your problems with Lucille and my problems with my aunt and uncle were preparing us to be the right people for each other. I think because of our pasts, we’re better able to appreciate what we have now. I love you, Jacob, and I have no doubt that you’re exactly the right man for me.”

“That’s a good way to look at things, and I think you’re right. You’re what I need in every way, and I love you more deeply than I thought possible, but still, my love continues to grow.”

 

They talked about everything: their pasts, likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams, academic topics, current affairs, expectations, and their faith. They didn’t consider anything taboo and they listened, as well as talked.

Jacob had always thought his parents had a good marriage, but he and Faith were so much closer, so much more in love. This exceeded anything he’d ever dreamed of.

In the nine days of traveling it took them to get to Independence Rock, Faith left his side only once to walk with Lena for about an hour.

 

Independence Rock looked like a giant sleeping animal from a distance. When they approached it, it looked like an enormous mound, perhaps a turtle in its shell. If they’d made it here toward the first of July, they’d have had a lay-by day and a huge party, but, since they were running behind schedule, they would move on in the morning. Still, many in the train wanted to carve their names on the rock before dusk.

“Would you like to leave our names there, too?” Jacob asked Faith.

“It’s close, so I wouldn’t mind walking there and doing that.”

Faith put some meat on to be simmering, and they went to the rock. Some of the younger ones tried climbing the rock, but Faith and Jacob just walked around it, carved their names in a place they could reach, and walked back to their wagon.

“Did it get its name because wagon trains could make it here by Independence Day?” Faith asked.

“Yes. I understand the first wagon train to carve names here arrived and had a big celebration on July the Fourth. They named it Independence Rock.”

 

They left the Platte and entered the Sweetwater Valley. The aptly named river ran clear and tasted much better than the muddy Platte. However, the river had supposedly been named for the time trappers were crossing the river with pack mules, and their sugar spilled into the river.

“Are you still going to boil your drinking water?” Jacob heard Faith asked Lena. “This water doesn’t seem as muddy.”

“It doesn’t,” Lena agreed, “but it’s still river water, and I can still see particles floating, so I think I will. The boiling does seem to help settle the dirt out better and maybe that’s why none of us have been sick recently. It can’t hurt any; that’s for sure.”

 

The next landmark would be Devil’s Gate. There the Sweetwater River had carved an almost four-hundred-feet deep canyon from granite through the spur of a mountain. It did look like a gate, arch, or entranceway, but it stood about half a mile from the trail. Since they hadn’t laid-by at Independence Rock, Marshall gave them a longer nooning, so there’d be time to walk there.

“I don’t like its name,” Faith said. “I certainly wouldn’t want a gate for the devil. Who’d want to let him in?”

“Some people do seem to choose to do evil,” Jacob said.

“True, but they pay for it, don’t they?”

“The pity is sometimes others do, too.”

 

They began to see rattlesnakes regularly, and they were unnerving. Jacob heard someone say they were prairie rattlers. One of the children on the train had been bitten by one and died. Faith said venomous snakebites were more dangerous for children, because they were smaller, and that did make sense.

 

Jacob liked their new sleeping arrangement inside the wagon. He found their makeshift bed more comfortable than the pallet in the tent.

“I’ve got second shift guard duty tonight, so I’m going to need to get in bed as soon as possible,” Jacob told Faith.

“I thought you had the first shift.”

“I did, but one of the men wanted to switch with me.”

“Go on in and I’ll be right behind you,” she said.

When Jacob sat down on the edge of the bed to pull his boots off, he saw the cover at the foot of the bed move. He stood up and looked under the covers. A snake! He threw the covers back down. It almost looked like a rattlesnake, but he hadn’t heard a noise. He didn’t want to look again for fear he’d disturb it. It needed to stay right there until he could figure out what to do. How could he get rid of it without getting bit or shooting up his wagon? Lord, I could really use Your guidance here. Maybe he’d better get some help. He started out of the wagon when he met Faith coming in.

“Stay out here until I get back. There’s a snake in the wagon and I’m going for help.”

Jacob saw Obadiah ride into camp and called out to him. The scout dismounted, and Jacob explained the situation.

“Well now, iffin that don’t beat all. Let me take a gander at this here snake.”

Jacob led the scout into the wagon and watched as he pulled down the cover. The snake raised its head.

“Well now, hit sure does look like a rattlesnake,” Obadiah said as he stared at the snake, “but you’re okay. This here’s jist a bull snake. He’s not dangerous atall.”

Obadiah picked up the snake by its tail and flung it from the wagon. “That one ain’t all that big, fer a bull snake. They can git some size on ’em.”

“How would it have gotten into my wagon and into my bed?”

“I’d say moren likely somebidy’s tryin’ to play a trick on ya. Yes siree, that snake got here with some two-legged critter’s help. I’ll let Marshall know ’bout this.”

Jacob thanked Obadiah and went out to get Faith. He was still dumbfounded. What reason would someone have for putting a snake in their bed, and who would do such a thing?

“Do you think there are any more snakes?” Faith asked.

“No, but at least it wasn’t venomous.”

“I’d have been scared to death if I’d found it here when you’d gone to pull guard duty. I’m not that afraid of the non-venomous snakes, but I don’t want them in my bed, and, like you, I wouldn’t have known for sure this one was non-venomous.”

They got into bed. Jacob hoped he could get to sleep now. The man he would be relieving would come wake him in two hours. The guards took turns doing that until all of them had been replaced.

He wanted to talk with Faith about who might have put the snake in here, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. He needed to get as much sleep as he could. The day after guard duty always seemed long and tiring.

 

“Obadiah thinks someone put that snake in our bed,” Jacob told Faith as they walked beside their team the next day. “I can think of only three people who might possibly do such a thing.”

“Iris and who else?”

“Dexter or Rex Caulder.”

“I know Rex doesn’t like you, but surely Dexter wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Well, it does seem like a boy’s prank to me, and he probably doesn’t like me that well, since I have you.”

“Whoever did it might have been trying to scare me, not you. After all, you were supposed to have the first guard duty.”

“That’s a good point. I hadn’t considered that. I guess it will be hard to ever know for sure. I hope this isn’t just the beginning, but I want you to be extra cautious, just in case. I’d like for us to stick together, as much as possible.”

“All right. I like sticking close to you anyway.” She gave him a playful look, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

 

They crossed back and forth through the Sweetwater several times, but most of the trail moved away from the water. The terrain had become dry and dusty, and the snow covering the mountains in the distance teased them by its very presence.

They had to walk through dry sage and sandy plains. Their shoes and boots filled with so much sand, they’d have to stop and shake them out. The sage made travel too rough to go barefooted through, and the sand could become hot enough to scorch feet bottoms.

There’d been no more buffalo chips to burn in this area. Since trees were still scarce, the campers burned sage. It burned up more quickly, but it made a hot blaze and the embers would stay hot for a long time.

“I feel blessed to have you cooking for me.” Jacob wanted to let Faith know he appreciated her. The things Lena told him about how poorly Faith’s aunt and uncle had treated her still bothered him.

“I’ve had plenty of practice,” she told him. “I know some people today are using a cast iron kitchen stove. A few are even trying to haul something like that to Oregon. We always cooked in the fireplace, however, and there’s not much difference in cooking in a campfire. In fact, we used an outside fire for such things as making soap or rendering lard anyway.”

Walking along in the exhausting climate became drudgery, and tempers tended to flare at the smallest disagreement and sometimes without any provocation. Seemingly happy people weren’t immune.

“Why can’t you have us something warm to eat at mid-day once in a while, Lena?” Jacob and Faith heard Harlan yell one day.

“You mean to tell me you want something hot to eat in this desert? Are you daft, man?” Lena replied.

“I said ‘warm’ woman, not hot. Faith manages to have Jacob something warm to eat most days. She’d not dare serve her husband hardtack and cold bacon.”

“Well, maybe you’d better start looking elsewhere for your meals if I can’t suit you. If you can show her you have money or the prospect of some, I’m sure Iris Bates would be eager to cook for you, and she won’t even care that you’re a dried-up, old fool.”

“Woman, you’ve got a tongue sharp enough to fillet trout, and if you keep giving everyone a piece of your mind, you’re not going to have any left. It seems to me that day is just about here.”

“It’s too bad your mouth’s the best-exercised muscle you have. You sure do keep it flapping, but it’s all just nonsense.”

Jacob knew the Haywoods would likely make up before the day ended, but some people’s rage grew worse. Two brothers got into an argument over whether or not to leave a desk behind. One pulled his gun, and the other shot him. The council deemed it self-defense, but how sad.

Jacob almost bit his own tongue a couple of times to keep from saying something too sharply. If Faith ever had the same problem, she didn’t show it. She seemed to manage to stay optimistic no matter the circumstance. Jacob wondered how she could always be in a good mood. When he asked her she quoted him what Paul had said in the Bible.

“I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”

“You certainly know your Bible,” Jacob told her.

“It’s the book I’ve read and studied the most through the years. Knowing it is much easier than applying it, however.”

“Your parents aptly named you. You have a strong faith.”

“I hope so, but I think my parents gave me my name because they intended to instill a strong belief and trust in God. I thank them for giving me such a strong foundation, and I want to do the same for our children.” She looked at him and laughed.

“No, not yet,” she answered before he could ask the question. She knew he wondered every time she mentioned children. She didn’t know he also tried to keep track of the possibility himself. Unlike with Lucille, their relationship now stayed close enough he could have some idea.

The trail got rougher as they crept up the rocky slope in the Wind Mountains. The climb was more gradual than Jacob had expected. He guessed the steep mountains would come later, but he knew they would come. Once they crossed the South Pass, all the rivers would start flowing west to the Pacific, instead of east to the Mississippi and the Gulf.

Trekking over the rocks became so hard, most of the drovers, including Jacob, tied skins over their oxen’s hooves and foot areas to try to protect them more. They were shod, but the rocks would still fray them until they were raw and bleeding.

The people had difficulty, too, and no one went barefooted now. Faith put on Lucille’s old shoes because the soles were thicker than hers, but Jacob knew they wouldn’t last on the rocky trail.

Everyone focused on getting through South Pass, because, then they would be descending into Oregon Country, although they’d be only half-way to their destination near the coast. Oregon Territory covered a huge area of largely unsettled land.

Once they came to a marshy bottom where ice lay beneath a layer of grass revealing an ice spring. They dug out the ice and enjoyed wonderful ice water.

 

Finally, they made it to the South Pass, but they were too exhausted for a celebration. Now they’d be descending into Oregon Territory, and the end seemed in sight. No one would be turning back now. After this, the distance would be shorter to the Oregon coast than going back to Missouri.

The pass didn’t look as Jacob had imagined it. The barren pass sat at the high point of a sagebrush plain. Antelope were plentiful and hawks abounded, as they looked for prey in the wide, open space. No steep grades led to South Pass, but the land gradually ascended, until, at the pass, the view became incredible, except for its sameness.

They headed down into the Green River Valley. The pines and evergreens attested to the high elevation, but it lifted their spirits to see the greenery.

“We had woods all around our cabin in Kentucky,” Faith told Jacob, “and I think that’s what I’ve missed most as we crossed the plains. I loved to walk the old Cherokee trails in the forest. I went hunting or gathering nuts or roots as an excuse to go there.”

“We had a lot more trees in Virginia than the plains have, too. There were plenty of trees on the plantation. We had forests where Charles and I went hunting every fall. In fact, Charles taught me to hunt.”

“Did you have slaves?” Faith asked.

“We did, and the house and stable slaves seemed like family to me. I never had much contact with the field hands, but I felt sorry for them. The idea of slavery has always made me uncomfortable. I understand Oregon Territory is supposed to be a free area where there’ll be no slaves, and I’m glad.”

 

The nights were especially cold now, and Jacob and Faith were using their buckskin jackets. They piled their bed with all their coverings. Jacob had brought blankets, and Faith had quilts.

When they got up in the mornings, ice would be covering the water in the barrels. Now Jacob understood why Faith had been working so hard to knit them more socks. Of course, with all the walking, they wore them out quickly, too. She knitted fast like she did most tasks, and she’d managed to have them scarves made, too. They would need them again in the mountains yet to come.

They’d been following Little Sandy Creek, which would lead toward the Big Sandy and on to Green River. Sometimes Green River became so deep they’d have to raise the wagon beds with green willow saplings growing by the water to cross. This usually kept their goods from getting too wet.

At least they were able to catch some fish now. Bacon had become their main meat, and they welcomed the taste of the fresh fish. The ones Faith fried made Jacob’s mouth water.

Jacob had done well in geometry, and he helped the men determine how much rope would be needed for a fording. He would draw his triangles in the dust to do his calculations.

Marshall said a shortcut would save them three days, and the councilmen held a long discussion on whether or not to take it. On the shortcut, they’d have to go fifty miles without water or grass for the livestock, and the toll on the animals and people could be high. In the end, they opted for the safer route, and Jacob was glad.

Of course, Rex had disagreed. “I see no reason to prolong this trip,” he said. “I say take the short-cut and get to our destination sooner.”

“The important thing is to get there,” Marshall had commented, and everyone else had voted for the safer route.

They left Green River Valley and headed south toward Fort Bridger, following the longer route. They began to see more Indians—Crow, Shoshone, Bannock, and a few Paiute. Obadiah said the Shoshone were the more peaceful Indians. Many of the fur trappers from here westward chose Shoshone brides.

 

Fort Bridger looked as busy as Fort Laramie had been, but Laramie had more Indians around it. This rustic stockade sat at the dividing waters of Black’s Fork, which provided icy cold water, fresh from the snowy mountains. Fort Bridger also had broadleaf trees again.

The fort itself seemed more rundown than Fort Laramie had been. Bridger had been the first fort built on the western side of the Mississippi especially for emigrants heading west. It had been built of dried clay applied over poles and had some twenty cabins for traders and their Indian wives.

Prices here at the fort were atrocious. Flour sold for fifty dollars a sack, and sugar went for a dollar a cup. Jacob and Faith were almost out of coffee, and they had to pay an outlandish price for it at the fort.

Jacob just thanked God they had the money for what they needed. So many of the families didn’t. Of course, he wanted to save as much as he could to put into starting the farm. They would have to build a cabin and have some furnishings. Then he’d need a barn, outbuildings, and a few things for the farm.

Some of the men at Fort Bridger were having another shooting match, but they refused to let Faith join them.

“It jist ain’t no place fer a woman,” one of the trappers grumbled. “Leave the shootin’ to the menfolk.”

Jacob wondered if they’d already heard about Faith’s shooting skills at the Fort Laramie competition. Whatever their reason, they were adamant. Since Faith couldn’t participate, they went back to their wagon. Jacob hadn’t intended to shoot anyway.

When they got back to the wagons, someone had stolen things from many of the families. “I should have posted guards,” Marshall said, “but I thought enough of us would be here at any given time we wouldn’t need that.”

“Maybe we should check the Parkers’ wagon,” Rex said. “I heard Mrs. Parker tends to take things that don’t belong to her.” Iris agreed with him, but no one else said anything.

The only thing Faith could find missing was some of the clothing she’d hung out to dry. Others had much more taken, especially foodstuff. Obadiah said the Indians here might be less dangerous, but some of them had become adept at thievery.

Jacob had started back from checking on his livestock when a shot rang out. It sounded much closer than the shooting match. Besides, the contest should be over by now. Faith came running as soon as she saw him.

“I think someone just took a shot at me,” she told him, as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide with fear. “The ball whizzed awfully close to my head.”

“It could have been a stray shot,” he told her but realized he didn’t know if he believed it himself or not. “There are a lot of people around.”

“I guess so.”

He put his arms around her and pulled her close. He hoped the shot had been unintentional. He didn’t want to think of the danger and what might happen otherwise.

 

They stayed at Fort Bridger for two days. The animals and people needed the rest, and they hadn’t had any delays in the mountains. The lay-over helped, and they started out again with a little more vigor.

Marshall warned them about what was to come. They’d gone through a stretch of desert-like land already, but Jacob feared the great basin would be a real test for them. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he did want to get it over with.