Chapter 79: Reaching The Dalles

 

Jenny had just nursed William the next morning, when Mac told her to hurry breakfast and pack up.

“What’s the rush?” she asked.

“Pershing says The Dalles is only three or four miles ahead. I want to get there by noon.”

Jenny sighed and took out a skillet to fry a piece of the salmon from the Indians. She didn’t feel well, her chest tight and her head pounding. Had she sickened on the ride to Celilo Falls? William was only two weeks old—was childbirth fever still possible? She didn’t want to talk to Doc. He would tell her to marry Mac. Maybe the fever would pass.

Jenny washed up after breakfast with water Mac hauled from the river, then climbed into the wagon. She didn’t have the energy to ride Poulette. She wasn’t sure she could even hold William. She left him on a blanket in the wagon while she sat on the bench.

They bounced along through the morning. Jenny’s back ached with the strain of sitting upright. She crawled under the wagon cover to feed William, then let him fuss when she returned to the bench.

Esther walked over midmorning with Jonah. “May I join you?” she asked, her foot and one hand on the wagon wheel before Jenny could stop her.

“I have a fever,” Jenny said. “Better keep Jonah away.”

Esther’s face paled. “I’ll get Doc.”

“No,” Jenny said.

But Esther was already gone.

Doc arrived, and motioned Jenny to pull her wagon out of line. “Hear you’re sick,” he said, climbing up beside her. “Let’s take a look.”

He felt her forehead, asked some questions.

“Not childbirth fever,” he said. “Can’t tell what it is. Drink lots of water and stay quiet.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Jenny said.

He glared at her. “You and McDougall are damn fools.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny asked. Her head throbbed. She didn’t want to argue.

“Only way out of this mess is for the two of you to marry.”

“He doesn’t want to marry me,” Jenny whispered. “And I don’t want to marry anyone.” She shuddered.

“McDougall’s a good man.” The doctor’s voice was gentler. “Not like the bastards who raped you.”

“I know.”

“Think on it, girl. Your baby needs a father.”

The doctor left, and Jenny sat shivering on the wagon seat. She couldn’t think about anything, let alone marriage. The hot sun beat down on her sunbonnet, but she couldn’t get warm. William fussed through the morning. She fed him, but otherwise left him alone in the back.

In late morning the wagons descended from the hills to the rude buildings of the Methodist Mission at The Dalles.

“It’s called Wascopam,” Mac told Jenny. “Must be an Indian name.”

Jenny stayed by the wagon, too sick to want to look around. Mac and others went into the mission. They were soon back.

“Not much here,” Mac said. “A school, a barn, and a couple of houses.”

“A school?” Jenny asked. She hadn’t seen a school building since they left Missouri.

“For the Indians. And some huts where the Indians live. Don’t know where Doc got the idea there was a preacher here.”

“No preacher? Then we couldn’t have married.”

“We wouldn’t have anyway, Jenny.” Mac sighed. “But there’s no chance of it now. Preacher’s gone. He sold the mission to the Whitmans. Dr. Whitman is here. Doc’s talking to him now.”

“What do they say about floating the river?” Jenny hoped they would lay by for a couple of days. Maybe she’d feel better after a rest.

Mac shook his head. “River’s low now, so the rapids are bad. We’d have to portage around the falls. And there’s a wait to build rafts, but we need to check at Chenoweth Creek. That’s about five miles downstream.”

“How about the road? What was it called? Barlow?”

“It turns south right around here.” Mac waved his hand toward the hills. “I’ll take some men down to Chenoweth this afternoon. See what’s there. Then we’ll decide.” He saddled Valiente. As he mounted he looked at Jenny. “You all right? You look peaked.”

Jenny nodded. “Doc says I’m fine.”

Mrs. Tuller came over after Mac left. “Let me take William,” she said. “You rest.”

“I should do laundry,” Jenny protested. “The diapers—”

“You need to keep your strength up to care for your son.”

Jenny climbed in the wagon and took out her journal.

 

Wednesday, September 29th—At The Dalles. The mission here is shabby and rude. The heat is oppressive, and I am sick.

Jenny slept until late afternoon. She heard William crying and stuck her head out of the wagon. “I’ll take him, Mrs. Tuller.”

“Feeling better?” Mrs. Tuller handed her the baby.

Jenny sat under the wagon cover to nurse him. “A little. My head still hurts. And my throat.”

“Men aren’t back yet. Esther and I’ve been wondering why they’re gone so long. Five miles is an easy ride.” Mrs. Tuller climbed up on the wagon bench.

As Jenny finished feeding William, a shout sounded from downstream.

“The Abercrombies!” Esther cried.

Jenny looked out. Mac and a large man—Samuel Abercrombie—rode horseback ahead of a small group of wagons.

Daniel ran to meet them and pumped his father’s hand. “You’re back!” Daniel shouted.

The Abercrombie party worked their wagons into the company’s camp. By the time they were settled, a large crowd had gathered, Jenny among them.

“What’s the story?” Doc asked.

“Goddamn English don’t know what they’re doing,” Abercrombie bellowed. “Can’t build enough rafts to get folks to Oregon City.”

“Is that true?” Jenny asked Mac when he walked Valiente over beside her.

“There’s a long wait for rafts. The Abercrombies had been waiting a week already.”

“Running out of flour and everything else.” Abercrombie continued to shout at anyone who listened. “Got my name on the list for a raft. But I might as well hear what y’all have to say about taking the goddamn road around Mount Hood. At least it’s run by Americans.”

Pershing and Zeke rode into camp after everyone else was settled. Jenny saw the captain stagger as he got off his horse. Zeke reached out a hand to his father, but Pershing waved him off.