August 21, 1852
The California Trail
The Mormons loaded the bodies of Elias and the dead elder onto the cart with Reed and hauled them off. “Reed’ll get away and come for me. I’m not never going to get free of them Harvey boys,” Penn said. “I can’t never hide where he won’t find me.”
“We should be underway,” Mary told the ministers, after the women returned to the wagons and explained what had happened. “Penn is badly frightened that Asa’s brother will escape and come after her. And I believe she may be right.”
“We leave tomorrow,” Joseph said.
“Today,” Mary told him. “Now.”
“Some of you still have shopping to do, and there is to be a theater performance tonight to which we have all been invited,” Joseph said. “We had hoped to purchase a cow, as our last one died near the Green River. Most important, we need to find men to replace those who have left us here.”
“We are ready to leave now,” Maggie said. “All of us. We will help do the men’s work. We are every bit as good as they are.” The others nodded in agreement.
“It is foolish to leave so late in the day. We would go only a few miles. We do not need to rush,” Joseph told them. “Reed Harvey will be locked up. He cannot follow us.”
“We outnumber you,” Mary said. “We leave now. The women have agreed we must protect Penn. You can catch up with us tomorrow.”
Joseph sighed and asked his wife, “When have these women grown so bold?”
THEY MADE SEVEN miles that day, twenty the next, and before the week was out, they were far from Great Salt Lake City. They were well over halfway on their journey now. Maggie believed the dust and the wind and the blistering sun of the Great Plains were done with. It would be cooler in the mountains. As conflicted as she was over Clara’s death, she was proud that she had survived the hardships. At the beginning of the trip, she had wondered if she would be up to the mark. Now she found that she kept up easily with the others and was stronger than most. As the days passed, she felt more alive than she had at any time since Clara died. What was more, she did not worry so much now about being pursued.
She realized before long that she was wrong about the trail ahead being easier. There were mountains all the way to California. In the distance, they were beautiful—majestic snowcapped monoliths, with forests of green pines, but Maggie knew that when she reached them, she would discover steep grades and rock outcroppings. She longed for the smooth swaths of prairie that made easy work for the oxen.
“I had thought there would be marked roads,” Maggie told William.
He shook his head. “All we can do is follow the trails and when two cross, hope we choose the right one.”
“But what about the guidebooks? Should we not consult them?” In Great Salt Lake City, she had seen half a dozen different guides to the gold fields.
“As useless as the maps to hidden gold mines. Some are written by men who have never crossed the Missouri.” The California Trail, he explained, was well known to Fort Laramie, but soon after that, it split into one cutoff after another.
“Do you know where we are going?” Maggie asked.
“Of course,” he said. “We continue west.”
“How far?” she asked a teamster who had said he had made the journey before.
The man shook his head. “A right smart distance.”
MAGGIE SENSED THE uncertainty of some of the women. Despite the setbacks and even the deaths on the first part of the journey, they had kept up their spirits. They had formed a bond, but now that bond seemed to splinter. Some women began to question the wisdom of the trip. A few even wondered if they might have been better off sharing a husband in the Mormon city.
“Would it be so bad?” one of them asked Maggie. “I would have someone to help with the washing and cooking and caring for the children. It would be almost as if I had a servant.”
“Unless you were her servant,” Maggie replied.
“Edwin was quite handsome. Perhaps it would not be so bad to be one of three wives,” the woman continued. By now the others knew that he had proposed to Maggie and Dora.
“He did not promise not to take more. You might end up one of ten or twenty.”
As the emigrants considered the eight hundred miles ahead of them, some of them grumbled. Sadie looked at her hands, roughened and sunburned, and touched her face. “It must appear as weathered as leather,” she said.
“Perhaps it is a good thing you do not have a mirror with you,” said Maggie, who cared little about her appearance.
“Do you think men in California would really find us attractive? Perhaps they will remember the girls at home with smooth faces and reject us because we have grown old crossing the prairie and the mountains. What if no one wants me?”
“You are still the prettiest one among us,” Maggie told her. “If you do not find a husband who suits you, then you can join me as a dressmaker. We are like sisters now.”
“You do not intend to marry?”
“I…” Maggie did not finish. Although Jesse was dead, Maggie did not concern herself much with marrying.
There were disagreements and complaints among the emigrants now as they trudged along the trail. The harsh and tasteless meals affected their digestion, and the glare of the sun, stronger now at the higher altitude, burned their skin and gave them headaches. They encountered bodies of dead and dying oxen as well as discarded trunks and mining equipment, clothing and luxuries. Maggie picked up a comb someone had thrown away and shook her head. “Such a small thing. It could not lighten the load even an ounce.”
One woman confided to Maggie that she no longer wanted to “see the elephant.” But now it was too late. They had long since crossed the midway point, and it would take more time to go back to Chicago than to proceed to California. “Besides, where would I get the money to return home?”
Some began to argue among themselves. Penn complained after a wagon crowded in line in front of her, and Maggie was furious when a woman picked up a piece of kindling she had dropped and refused to give it back. Sadie lashed out at Dora for serving beans that were undercooked. “Did you not soak them?” she demanded.
Dora lowered her head and said, “I shall do better next time.”
Sadie was not placated. “Edwin’s wives don’t know how lucky they are you didn’t marry up with him.”
“Sadie!” Caroline admonished her, then told Dora, “I once burned up an entire turkey when I was a bride. Undercooked beans are a small thing.”
Sadie, appalled at her own words, hung her head.
Another woman turned on her tent mate when she discovered the woman not only was using her prize quilt but had put it too close to the fire and scorched it. “That quilt is the finest I ever made. I was saving it for my wedding night,” she said, anger in her voice.
The culprit only laughed. “If you were not so ugly, your husband would pay more attention to you than to your quilt.”
The woman was furious and slapped her tent mate, who slapped her back. In a moment, the two were on the ground, scratching and clawing at each other. Mary tried to separate them, but it was William who thundered, “Stop at once! Any more of this, and you both will be put out of the train!”
“You would not dare,” one of the women said.
“I will not allow such behavior! If you would act like animals, then I shall cast you out to live like them.”
Maggie looked at William in astonishment. Would he really banish the women?
“We will pray for them,” Joseph said.
“Pray?” William thundered. “Discipline is more important than prayer.” He shook his head and walked a little away from the camp.
The two women, chastised, did not look at each other, but the one who had scorched the quilt picked it up and folded it, handing it to its owner. “I am ashamed,” she whispered.
“We must all do better or we will never make it to California,” Mary told Maggie. Mary looked at the women around them. “We had forged a closeness, and now it is being sundered with pettiness. We must try harder to work together.”
Sadie went to Dora then and said, “You are tired. I will clean the pots and plates for you.”
As the women went back to their wagons, William asked Caroline, “What have I done to these women? What have I done to you?”
“You have given them a future. They complain, but I believe not one in ten would want to go back to their lives in Chicago.”
“Some have died, the little girl Clara among them.”
“Might she not have died at home?”
Maggie, overhearing the remark, pondered it.
THEY HAD ALL heard of City of Rocks. It was near where the trail split, one part going to California, the other to Oregon. It was out of the way. Indeed, the stone city was difficult to access from their route, but the women begged to see it, and William, perhaps believing they needed some relief from their frightening experience in Great Salt Lake City, agreed to the delay. “We will consider it an excursion,” he told Maggie.
She had expected a settlement of some size. Instead, she found herself in an encirclement of granite rocks in freakish shapes and of all textures and colors. Someone had used axle grease to write “Hotel” on one and “Our House” on another. Bessie declared it was the most wondrous site on the entire journey.
Evaline clapped her hands when she saw the rocks. “It is like a castle,” she told Maggie, who knew how much Clara—and Dick, too—would have liked to play among the monoliths.
“To think we ever questioned whether Evaline should come on this trip,” Caroline said. “She is one of the best of us.” She told Bessie, “I believe her mother is smiling down on her—and on you. Not many women would undertake the responsibility of raising a Negro orphan.”
“She brings me much joy. She is an intelligent girl, and she takes care of me.”
“Indeed. She could not be more solicitous of you if she were your own flesh and blood.” Maggie said, putting her hand to her mouth, embarrassed, hoping that Bessie was not angered by such an outrageous remark.
Bessie only laughed. “You do not offend. If she were white, I would indeed claim her as my own.”
EVALINE FOUND BESSIE sitting on a rock formation with Maggie. “Come, ma’am, you must see the rocks. Why, one of them is hollow. We must remember it in case of an Indian attack.” She smiled at Maggie. “Clara would have played hide-and-seek in it.” Many of the women were careful about mentioning the little girl, but Evaline had no such trepidation, and that pleased Maggie. She did not want Clara to be forgotten. Evaline held out her hands to the two women, who let themselves be led among the formations. She exclaimed over every monolith and column, every terrace and dome, each one more fanciful than the last. The excitement was contagious, and the two women were caught up in the girl’s good spirits.
“We could live here,” Evaline told Bessie, rushing from one rock to another. “We could plant your apple trees here and let them grow into an orchard.” She stopped beside a boulder that was striated in purple and orange and gold. “Does it not look like a home from a storybook? I should have brought my sketchbook.”
As the three walked back to camp, Evaline said it was her turn to prepare supper. “Beans! How would you like beans for your supper, ladies? And a surprise. I found a cluster of lamb’s-quarters, enough for all of us.”
When they reached the wagon, Evaline looked at the rock formations. “I should like to draw them at night. Do you think there will be a moon?”
Bessie turned stern. “Stay close to the wagons, Evaline. Who know what roams out there after dark?”
THE SUN HAD barely set when Maggie spread her tarp on the ground. The evening was pleasant, so the women had not erected tents. They wrapped themselves in quilts and blankets, and within minutes, the sounds of sleep were mixed with the lowing of the oxen and the stamping of the horses. There was no mooing of cows, however; the last one had died before they reached Great Salt Lake City, and there had not been time to replace it.
Despite the pleasant evening, Maggie could not sleep. She stared up at the stars, then watched as the moon rose, a half-moon the shape of a worn-out coin. The day had been a good one. She had loved the weird rock shapes and thought of City of Rocks as a fairyland, one that would indeed have enchanted Clara. The idea of Clara romping in the moonlight made Maggie smile. She was glad for the picture of her daughter that Evaline had drawn in her mind.
The night was peaceful, but still, sleep did not come. Maggie was not worried. After all, one of the teamsters was guarding them. They had been remiss in not finding more men, but the women themselves had proven capable of taking on many of the responsibilities of those who had left them in Great Salt Lake City. Maybe it was the fantasy of Clara that kept her awake, or her longing for both her children. Daytimes were crowded with activity, but the nights were lonely, and that was when thoughts of Dick and Clara swirled most in her mind.
After a time, she heard someone rise and walk quietly toward the rocks. Maggie sat up and spotted Evaline. The girl was in her nightdress, and she carried her sketchbook under her arm. She was going to draw the rocks in the moonlight after all.
Maggie turned over and closed her eyes, but again, she did not sleep. She began to think about Evaline out there alone. She might fall and break an arm or hit her head. There could be rattlesnakes or wolves prowling through the rocks. Maggie thought of waking Bessie, but she knew Bessie would be angry at the girl for disobeying her, and Maggie did not want to cause trouble for Evaline. Instead, she rose and quietly made her way to City of Rocks.
She crept among the monoliths, intending at first to call Evaline’s name, but she did not want the girl to think she was spying on her. Then she saw her, perched on a rock. The moonlight on Evaline’s white nightdress made her seem ethereal.
The girl was sharpening her pencil with a penknife. When she was satisfied with the lead, she put aside the knife and opened the sketchbook and began to draw, shifting a little so that her shadow did not fall on the paper. She drew quickly, glancing up at the sky from time to time as if wondering whether clouds would cover the moon and make it too dark to draw.
Evaline was such a pretty picture that Maggie lingered for a few moments to watch her. Then she turned back toward the wagons before Evaline could spot her and realize that she had been spied upon. That would spoil something pure and innocent. Maggie was almost sorry she had come, and she started back toward the camp. She was halfway there when she heard a cry, a cry so low that it did not carry to the sleeping women.
For a moment, she hesitated. The sound was probably nothing, but she couldn’t be sure. Then Maggie heard a man’s voice saying, “Little colored girl thinks she’s too fine for me. Don’t know her place.”
Evaline murmured something that sounded like a plea, and then Maggie heard the man’s voice again. “You make any noise, I’ll kill you.” There was the sound of cloth ripping—Evaline’s nightdress, Maggie thought. She started for the camp to rouse the guard, then realized there was not time. She crept forward and saw Evaline lying on the ground. A man stood above her, and Maggie thought at first that he was one of the ministers. She saw him reach for Evaline’s breast.
“Let’s have a look at the little darkie,” the man said. Evaline cried out, and the man slapped her.
The slap startled Maggie, and she took a step forward. She had hesitated when the soldier attacked her, but she would not do so now. “Stop it,” she said. She could not control her voice, and instead of being commanding, it sounded weak and ineffectual. The man turned to her, and she recognized him as one of the teamsters, Green Holt. He was on guard duty that night.
“Get away,” the man growled. “This is ’tween me and her. Little whore asked for it. She been teasing me for a long time. She ain’t never had a white man before. You go on back and keep your mouth shut or you’ll get the same.”
“How dare you threaten her! Stop it, or I will call the ministers,” Maggie said.
“They can’t hear you way over here.” Evaline struggled, and he said, “You hold still, you black cat.”
“Help me. Please,” Evaline whimpered. She flailed around, and Maggie saw that several of the sketches had been torn out of the sketchbook and were crumpled on the ground. How could he spoil the precious drawings and the innocent girl who had made them! Maggie’s anger gave her strength. “Stop it!” she yelled as loudly as she could. She grabbed a stick and hit Green Holt with it.
He wrestled the stick from her and flung it aside. Then he struck Maggie. She fell backward, and Green told her he’d take her after Evaline. He reached back again with his fist, but instead of striking her a second time, he screamed and pitched forward over Evaline. Maggie remembered the penknife Evaline had used to sharpen her pencil and thought at first that the girl had stabbed him. Then she looked up and saw a man standing over them with a whip.
The whip snaked through the air, and Green screamed again. He was lying on the ground, his hands over his head, when the lash hit him a third time. “Stop!” he begged. “I ain’t done nothing.”
“Scum!” the man with the whip said. “You will not have carnal knowledge of this girl! Stand up, you filth!”
The second man’s back was to her, and Maggie could not see his face, but she recognized the voice of Reverend Parnell. She crawled over to the girl and covered her with the torn nightdress.
“Get up,” William ordered, and Green slowly rose to his feet, his hands in front of him to ward off any more lashings.
“What you done that for?” Green asked. “She ain’t nothing but a darkie whore. You can have at her when I’m done. You can even go first. Or I’ll take the other one, even though she ain’t fresh.”
William hit Green across the face with the whip handle, striking him back and forth, breaking his nose. “You will not speak in such a manner about these women!”
Green put his hand over his nose, which was bleeding. “You ought to whip her. She asked me to meet her here. Begged me.”
Evaline was so stunned she couldn’t speak. Maggie thought of the dragoon who had attacked her, and she put her arms around the girl, both of them shivering.
She turned to see Joseph running toward them. Green’s screams had awakened the camp. Several women held fagots, and Maggie could see their white faces. She tightened her arms around Evaline, knowing the girl wanted to creep away and hide. Maggie did, too. Her own nightdress was torn and stained, and she clutched it to her.
“I guess we got one or two more wants to try the whore,” Green said. William stared at the man for a moment, then raised his whip handle and struck him again and again. Green screamed in pain, but William would not stop.
Joseph reached them and grabbed the whip. “For God’s sake, Willie, it is enough.”
“He accosted the girl,” William explained. “I should kill him.”
“You stopped him.”
“We never should have come to this place. It is my fault. I should have insisted we stay on the trail.” William shook his head back and forth. “I could not sleep, so I thought I would pray out here among the rocks. I brought the whip in case of snakes. I heard Mrs. Hale cry out. She got here first. Then I saw him—”
William reached for the whip, but Joseph refused to give it up. “You have punished him enough.”
“No, Joe. Not by half.”
“You are banished from our train,” Joseph told Green.
The other men reached them, and one asked, “What did he do?”
“He attacked a member of our company.”
The teamster looked around and spotted Evaline, sobbing in Maggie’s arms. “It’s only the colored girl. It ain’t like he done it to a white woman.”
William turned to him in fury. “I will not allow anyone to speak thus. Green Holt will leave our company. If you or any of the others say another word against this young woman, you will be asked to join him. I will whip any man who dares to touch her—or any of the other women.”
The men muttered, stealing glances at Evaline. Maggie looked up to see several women halfway between the wagons and the rocks. Bessie was among them, and when she saw Evaline, she ran to the girl. She didn’t say a word, only grabbed Evaline and held her.
Maggie put her arms around herself to stop her shaking, then felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Mary, who picked her up and carried her back to the wagon. “You protected her. Now it is our turn to protect you,” Mary said.
As they left the rocks, Maggie heard William order Green to collect his things and leave immediately.
IN THE MORNING, all the men except for William and Joseph were gone.