Chapter 80: Deciding on the Route

 

When the commotion over the Abercrombie platoon returning died down, Mac sought out Doc. “Can we talk?” he asked.

The doctor gestured at a dusty rock near his fire. “Have a seat.”

“What do you think about taking the river or Barlow Road?” Mac exhaled deeply. “Neither way’s easy.” He wanted to take the road for Jenny’s sake, but he couldn’t make decisions for the whole company based on her fears.

“Why ask me?” Doc pulled out his pipe and a small pouch of tobacco.

“Can’t ask Pershing. He’s in no shape tonight.”

“Drinking?” Doc frowned, his bushy eyebrows furrowing.

Mac nodded. “I smelled it on him. Wish I knew where he got the liquor. Zeke and Joel say they don’t know. Must have been the English.”

“Talk to him. He still knows more’n the rest of us.” The doctor tapped tobacco shavings into his pipe bowl and lit it. “What’d they say at Chenoweth?”

“They want to sell us rafts.”

“Abercrombie seems set on the road.” Doc puffed on the pipe.

“That’s because he’s disgusted with the wait for rafts. He’ll change his mind if it suits him later.” Mac sighed. “I don’t know whether I’m glad he’s back or not.” He looked at the doctor. “So what do you think?

“Hell, I don’t know. I’m a doctor, not a trail captain. Talk to Pershing. Drunk or not, the man won’t put his children in harm’s way.”

“All right. I will.” Mac stood and brushed the dirt off his trousers. “We have to decide tonight. Abercrombie’ll be chomping at the bit to be underway tomorrow.”

At the Pershing wagons, Mac asked Zeke, “Where’s your father?”

Zeke waved toward the back of the wagon, where Mac found Pershing cleaning his boots. He could smell stale whiskey, but the man didn’t seem drunk.

“What do you think about Barlow Road?” Mac asked, squatting on the ground beside the older man.

Pershing looked up, then returned to scraping his boots. “Don’t know any more’n you. Goes around Mount Hood, straight into Oregon City. Saves rafting down the Columbia, then up the Willamette.” Pershing put one boot down and picked up the other. “River’s low, so rafting is dangerous. But we could get snow in the mountains.”

“How bad’s the river?”

“Let’s go look.” Pershing pulled on his boots, stood, then called to his sons, “Zeke, Joel, come on.”

The four men walked to the shore of the Columbia. Pershing gestured with a sweep of his arm. “We’re at The Dalles. Means ‘rapids’ in French.”

“Rafts have been floating down this all day,” Mac said. “Most aren’t having any trouble.”

“I saw one overturn,” Pershing said. “Man and two children died. Downstream, the river’s worse.”

“How bad?”

“See that rock?” Pershing waved at a boulder in the middle of the Columbia.

“The smooth one with moss on its side?” It was larger than a horse.

“We’ll be dodging even bigger rocks for hours down river.”

Mac squinted at Pershing. “Then why would we take the river?”

“Used to be the only way. Even now, some folks has had enough of mountains.”

“What do you think we should do?”

Pershing rubbed the toe of his newly cleaned boot in the mud. “Winter could come on any time. But I reckon the road’s still safer. A body’s got more control on firm land than in the water. ’Tain’t natural to ride a boat if we don’t have to.” He shook his head. “All the way to Fort Vancouver on a raft—ain’t how I want to die.”

“Then Barlow Road it is,” Mac said. “I’ll call the men together.”

“Listen up.” It was almost dark, and Mac had gathered the men. He held up a hand and waited for the chitchat to die down. He awkwardly bounced William in his other arm to keep him from crying. Jenny was exhausted, and Mac had taken the baby to give her a rest.

When the men quieted, he announced, “I’ve decided on Barlow Road.”

“River’s quicker.” Abercrombie spat out the words, followed by a long stream of tobacco juice. “Ain’t no rafts now, but once we git ’em, they’d be faster. You know much about this road, McDougall?” As Mac had suspected, Abercrombie changed his tune—just to be contrary.

“Be snow in the mountains right soon,” Dempsey said. “Fresh snow on the peaks already.” So Dempsey was with Abercrombie.

Mac nodded. “We could get snow. But with the wait, the river won’t be faster, and it’s too dangerous.”

“Raft overturned this afternoon,” Pershing said. “Two children drowned, and their pa with them.”

“Here’s what I’ve heard,” Mac said, facing the group. “Barlow Road’s been open a year now. Most of the stumps are cleared away. We should make good time around Mount Hood.”

“If it don’t snow,” Dempsey interrupted.

“If we take the river,” Mac continued, “It’ll take a week or more to build rafts. That’s what Abercrombie found out.” He nodded at Abercrombie. Maybe that would mollify him. “Then we have to portage around the rapids. Or we drive the wagons as far as we can. In either case, below the rapids we rebuild the rafts or wait for the Vancouver ferry. Could take weeks, if the ferry’s backed up like the raft builders are.”

“Least we won’t freeze on the river.” Abercrombie punctuated his comment with another hiss of tobacco juice.

Doc stood in the back of the group, smiling, his arms crossed across his chest. “What do you think, Doc?” Mac asked, jostling William faster.

“You’re captain, McDougall. Your call.”

Abercrombie snorted. “Only because you made it happen, Doc.”

“He was voted in, Abercrombie.” The doctor’s voice was composed, but steely. “You can’t object now. Particularly not after leaving us.”

“Maybe I should call for another vote.” Abercrombie’s hands folded into fists, though he didn’t move into a fighting stance.

“Now, Pa.” Daniel put a hand on his father’s arm. “We ain’t got far to go. Let’s get to Oregon and claim our land.”

Abercrombie turned to his son. “You’ve taken Pershing’s side ever since you married his girl. Never thought I’d see my boy henpecked.”

“Now, Pa—”

“Son, you better decide which side your bread’s buttered on. Going to work for me or that drunk Pershing?”

“Hold on!” Pershing sprang up from his seat on a log by the fire. “I’d still be leading this company, Abercrombie, except you stuck your nose in where it don’t belong.”

“Come on, men,” Mac said. He was losing control. He couldn’t concentrate while jiggling the fretting baby. “Barlow Road is our best option. Nobody’s convinced me otherwise.”

“Ain’t that what your little gal wants?” Abercrombie sneered. “You’re as bad as Daniel. Letting your wife lead you by the nose.”

William let out a poorly timed wail. Mac patted the baby’s back, while turning toward his wagon. “Jenny?” he called. “Come get the baby. I can’t talk while he’s crying.”

Jenny appeared and silently took William. She wheezed, as if trying not to cough.

“Mountains or river, neither’s a cakewalk,” Abercrombie said. “Y’all think young McDougall here can get us through? I say we vote him out.”

Pershing stepped forward toward Abercrombie. “You been spoiling for a fight since we left Missouri. You had your chance. Twice you was voted down. You left. If you want to stay this time, shut your trap.”

“Last time was rigged. Doc and Hewitt counted the ballots. They was both backing McDougall.”

Hewitt sprang to his feet from the log where he sat. “You saying I cheated? Say it to my face, Abercrombie. Flat out. I’ll show you who cheated.”

Mac held up a hand. “Fighting won’t get us to Oregon City. Let’s stick to deciding our route.”

“He’s asking for it,” Hewitt muttered.

Mac looked around. Zeke and Pershing stood next to Hewitt—all three men’s fists clenched. Abercrombie stood with his chin thrust out, his hand near the knife on his belt. Daniel’s gaze darted back and forth from Mac to his father.

Abercrombie was the problem. Still. Mac pointed at him and said, “Abercrombie, you’ve been chomping at the bit the whole way, wanting to move faster. Well, I’m convinced Barlow Road is the fastest path to Oregon City. And the safest.”

Abercrombie didn’t relax his stance, but said nothing.

“Any questions?” Mac asked.

Most of the men shook their heads. Others stared at the ground.

“Pershing,” Mac asked. “You with me?”

Pershing nodded. “Road can’t be worse’n the river.”

Zeke nodded as well.

“Doc?”

Doc waved a hand. “You’re captain. Whatever you say, I’m with you.”

“Hewitt?”

Hewitt still glared at Abercrombie. He turned to Mac. “I’m with you,” he said through his teeth.

“How about the rest of you?” Mac asked, looking around the circle. “Anyone still want to argue for the river?”

“Barlow Road’s fine with me,” Daniel said.

Abercrombie spat on the ground and stalked off.