THIRTY-SEVEN

 

 

May 31st, 1887

Central Idaho Mountains

 

SOPHIE, WITH SOME adjustments on the lead lines to the three packhorses, managed to get back down the steep valley to the first small talus slope. It took her two hours with only one break.

The sun still wasn’t anywhere near the valley floor, but it was a beautiful day with bright blue sky overhead and she had a hunch it would be fairly warm eventually.

She tied the horses on one side of the forty-paces-wide rock slope, then worked her way across the loose rock slope with coils of rope over her shoulder.

On the other side of the slope, she tied the rope off around a tree trunk about thirty paces up the hill, then tied another end around her waist and went back across the slope, keeping the rope tight.

If she fell, the rope would keep her from going into the whitewater below the slope. She felt better having that safety line on.

She took her horse, made sure she had some supplies on the second horse in case her horse went down, and then went across the slope, going slowly, not allowing herself to hurry.

Then she went back three more times and eventually she had all four horses across safely.

From that point onward, she watched the banks of the water for Wade’s body as she moved forward and did the same routine with the second small talus slope.

She really didn’t want to see Wade’s body, but she knew it would help her if she found it.

She forced herself to rest finally and have a large lunch and extra water and some salty jerky to make sure she kept her head clear.

The sun had now hit the valley floor and the day was warming up so much, she could shed her heavy coat.

At the large slope that they had built the trail across, she simply led each horse across one at a time.

Then on the other side, she rested again in the shade of the trees.

She found herself thinking that she was proving to herself that this valley could be beat.

But she still was a ways from the mouth of the valley, so she killed that thought and focused on two things.

First, she had to be careful and keep the horses moving slowly, but steadily over the rough ground.

Second, she needed to watch the banks of the stream for any sign of Wade’s body.

She reached the original camping site at the mouth of the valley just as the light was vanishing from the tops of the peaks around her and the darkness was closing in.

There had been no sign of Wade’s body at all.

She quickly got a fire started and the horses taken care of for the night.

Then, in the light of the fire, she set up her tent and bedding.

Every bone in her body ached, and she felt more exhausted than she could ever remember feeling before.

But she had beaten the valley, alone, and on her own terms.

She made herself eat a little, then crawled into the bedding and with the rifle near her, she said into the night, “I hope you’ll be proud of me, Wade.”

She was very proud of herself, that was for sure.

And a moment later, she was asleep.