Hannah was about to pull away when the young man turned and saw them coming. To Hannah’s surprise, he immediately smiled and changed direction, coming over to them. “Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” Ingrid said. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you.”
“Did you find the Hunt Company?” Hannah asked.
He nodded. “They should be here tomorrow or the next day.” He removed his hat, and rubbed ruefully at the stubble on his chin. For a moment Hannah thought he was going to apologize for how he looked, but instead he looked at her. “How are you two doing?”
“Much better,” Hannah answered. “Thank you.”
“You are hungry?” Ingrid said bluntly.
He turned in surprise. “Yes, very.”
“We have stew left over for you if you would like.”
His smile was broad and genuine. “Why, thank you. I was just wondering how I might find something when supper is all finished now.”
“Sister Jackson,” Hannah started, feeling terribly awkward, “the woman we are traveling with, she would be happy to have you share with us. We are very grateful for all you brethren have done.”
“It is our privilege,” he said earnestly, “believe me.”
Ingrid stuck out her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but I am Ingrid Christensen.”
He laughed as he took it. “I remember. And I am David Granger.”
Hannah colored slightly and put out her hand. “Yes, and I am—”
“Hannah McKensie. I know.”
“Yes.” She felt herself color more deeply, and so she turned and pointed. “Our tent is over this way.”
•••
“That was wonderful stew,” David said as he finished and set his plate down on the log beside the fire. “Thank you.”
Elizabeth Jackson smiled at him. “You lie very well, young man. But I suppose a hearty appetite maketh the best sauce.”
David grinned. “Well, then, I had plenty of sauce to add to the mix, that’s for sure.”
“Having something besides lean beef and flour helps too,” Hannah said. “Who would have ever thought that simply adding onions and potatoes to a stew could be so heavenly?”
He sat back and folded his hands across his stomach, obviously not in any hurry to get up and leave. “Well, it was very good. Thank you.”
“We are very glad that you found the others and that they are well,” Sister Jackson said.
Little Aaron Jackson, who was sitting beside his mother, was watching David with large, grave eyes. Martha Ann, his oldest sister, looked down at him. “Brother Granger drives one of the wagons, Aaron.”
He nodded slowly. David smiled at him and patted his lap. “Come here, Aaron. Let me see what a fine boy you are.”
To the surprise of them all, little Aaron stood up without hesitation and went to David and allowed himself to be picked up and set in his lap. “Well,” Sister Jackson said, “there’s a surprise for you.”
“And how old are you, Aaron?” David asked.
The boy held up a gloved hand and stuck up his fingers. Then, concentrating mightily, he reached out with his other hand and pushed the thumb and two fingers down again.
“Two?” David said.
He nodded, still very sober.
David pulled the boy back against him and let him snuggle into his arms. “I have a sister that’s just about your age.” Then he turned to the women. “So did you have much trouble getting here?” he asked of all three of them.
They looked at each other for a moment, and then Sister Jackson spoke up. “The first night was terrible. It was snowing and the night had turned so cold. With so few men . . .” Her voice caught and she looked down at her hands.
Hannah came in smoothly. “With so few men to help, we had a difficult time that night getting the tents up.”
He nodded. “So you didn’t make it all the way here?”
“No. We stopped at what they called Sweetwater Crossing.”
“Ah, yes. There by Independence Rock.”
Hannah nodded.
Martha Ann spoke up now. “We didn’t have enough shovels. We had to use frying pans and tin plates to scrape away the snow.”
“And then,” Ingrid added, “it took some of us almost an hour to get the tents up. It was very cold. Even colder than it is tonight.”
David glanced upward. There were a few stars showing, and the wind stirred the empty branches of the trees above them. “If it clears off, it’s going to turn real cold tonight.” Then he turned back to the three women. “Didn’t our boys from the Valley help you get your tents up?”
“As much as they could.” Hannah smiled. “Is that what they call you? the Valley boys?”
He chuckled softly. “That’s kind of what you folks have labeled us. Actually, most of us belong to the Minute Men. That’s a group that is part of the militia in the Valley. But I kind of like the title of Valley boys myself. If the name fits, wear it, I always say.”
“So you live in Salt Lake Valley?” Ingrid asked.
“Yes. Right in Great Salt Lake City actually. Our family has a farm there.”
“Is it wonderful to be there?” Sister Jackson asked softly.
“Yes,” came the firm answer. “It is wonderful. You are going to love it there.” He hesitated for a moment. “Even though you’ve lost your husband, Sister Jackson, you and your children will be well cared for.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes glistening, then nodded. “Thank you, David.”
David turned back to the girls. “So tell me, what has been going on here at Devil’s Gate since you arrived? I was afraid you might have gone on again.”
“Well, Brother Grant knocked down a house to make us a fire,” Ingrid said.
“He did?”
“Yes,” Hannah answered. “The first night we arrived. When we got here the men who had been left behind had fires going and supper cooking. We all ran to get close to the fires and get warm. It was so cold. Brother Grant asked us all to be patient and he would get us some wood for our own fires. Well, he walked over to one of these deserted cabins and raised his ax. He gave it one mighty blow and the thing was so decrepit that the whole wall caved in. Then we all got a piece of log to make our own fires.”
“By the way,” Sister Jackson added, “why are these old buildings here? And doesn’t anyone care if they are knocked down and used for firewood?”
David shrugged. “I’m not sure. There was some kind of military post here a while ago, but then it was abandoned. It hasn’t been used for some time now.”
They fell silent for a moment, and then Hannah spoke again. “They have decided to move us, did you know that?”
“No, Captain Grant and Major Burton didn’t mention that.” David didn’t add that he had been in such a hurry to try and find Hannah and Ingrid that he had stayed only long enough with his leaders to report where Brother Wheelock and the Hunt Company were.
Ingrid spoke up again now. “Yah. They say there is a place not far where we can find more protection from the storm that is coming.”
Sister Jackson added further clarification. “Captain Grant says it’s too cold and there’s too much snow to travel right now. But there is not room enough here for all of us, especially when the Hunt Wagon Company arrives. That will make almost nine hundred people.”
Hannah pointed toward the west. “Evidently from what they say, there’s a hollow or a cove in these granite mountains just a few miles from here. It’s sheltered from the wind and there is water and firewood there. They’ve decided we should move there until the weather warms again.”
“I think that’s wise,” David said. “That will give you a little more chance to rest before you have to leave again.”
“And maybe then more wagons from the Valley will come,” Sister Jackson suggested.
David shook his head, reluctant to disagree with her but also knowing that this was a false hope. “I don’t think so. Brother Gr
ant told them to stay put at South Pass until they get word from us.”
Hannah knew that, but it was something that still puzzled her. “Why do they wait at South Pass? Why don’t they come on to find us?”
David’s brow furrowed a little. That was a fair question. “You have to remember that when we reached South Pass, we had no idea where you were, or Captain Willie’s group either. By then the first snowstorm had hit. Many of our teams were exhausted. Captain Grant was afraid that if he came on with everyone, we might be out here floundering around trying to find you. We couldn’t afford to exhaust all the teams that way. Also, there are more wagons coming behind us from the Valley. Captain Grant didn’t want them to come on as far as South Pass and not find anyone and turn back.”
Now Hannah was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to sound critical,” she said. “I was just wondering. We know you are doing everything you can to help us.”
“I didn’t think you sounded critical,” he said.
“Oh,” Sister Jackson said, “speaking of sending word, did Captain Grant tell you he sent two men to the Valley with a letter to President Young asking for more help? They will stop at South Pass and tell the others we are coming and have them start coming forward.”
That startled David. Captain Grant had not mentioned that either. “Really? Who were they?”
“Brigham Young’s son and the other man who came out to meet us. Abraham . . .” She tried to remember the last name.
“Abel Garr?”
“Yes. Those two.”
“My, my,” he said. “Those two brethren are going to have leather for backsides before they’re done with all this riding.” Then he winced and looked at Hannah. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . . It’s just that—”
Hannah laughed. “We are quite capable of understanding what it means to ride hundreds of miles in the saddle, Brother Granger.”
“They are going to empty all wagons,” Ingrid said.
“You mean at South Pass?”
“No, here,” Hannah said. “They are going to empty out all the Hodgett Company wagons and use them to help carry our baggage and also the sick and the weak.”
David could see that he should have taken a little more time with Captain Grant and Major Burton. “You mean they are going to unload all that freight?”
Sister Jackson nodded. “They held a meeting. They will leave all of the goods the wagons were carrying here. From the Hunt Company too, when they arrive. That will give us almost eighty wagons. They plan to leave most of the handcarts behind.”
“Whoa!” he said. “Slow down. Are you saying they’re just going to leave all that freight here and go on without it?”
“No,” Hannah responded. “They’re talking about leaving a few of the brethren here to guard it, then sending wagons back in the spring to get it. Brother Jaques says—” Hannah stopped. “Brother Jaques is one of the leaders in our company. He says we will keep only two or three carts per hundred—the very best of them—and put our cooking utensils and kettles and things in them. The food, tents, and everything else will be put into the wagons.”
“Everyone who can walk will walk,” Ingrid explained. “There are still many sick who will have to ride. But walking will be better than pulling the carts.”
“Well, well, I can see they’ve not been letting things sit idle while they were waiting for us to return.” He stood up, lifting young Aaron with him. “I’d better go find out what I’m expected to do in the morning.”
He looked down at Sister Jackson, then handed Aaron to her. “Thank you again for supper, ma’am. I am much obliged.”
“You are most welcome. And thank you again.”
As he started away, Ingrid called after him. “Thank you, Brother Granger, for that hug you brought to Hannah from Maggie.”
“Ingrid!” Hannah hissed.
David laughed and waved. “It is always a pleasure to do my duty,” he called back.
When he was gone, Hannah swung on her friend. “Ingrid! What are you doing?”
“I think he likes you,” Ingrid teased. “He talks to all of us, but he looks only at you.”
“That’s not true,” she said, flustered now. She looked to Elizabeth for help.
“Well, it’s not completely true,” Sister Jackson said with a smile, “but mostly.”
“Sister Jackson!”
“Well,” Elizabeth said with some warmth in her voice. “He is a very nice-looking young man.” Then before Hannah could protest again, she stood. “Come, children. It’s time for bed.”
Chapter Notes
The story of Maggie McKensie and the handcart told in this chapter was inspired by the following story, which has been included in some of the compilations of handcart histories: “Margaret Dalglish, that gaunt image of Scotch fortitude, dragged her pitiful handful of possessions to the very rim of the valley, but when she looked down and saw the end of it, safety, the City of the Saints, she did something extraordinary. She tugged the cart to the edge of the road and gave it a push and watched it roll and crash and tumble and burst apart, scattering down the ravine the last things she owned on earth. Then she went on into Salt Lake to start the new life with nothing but her gaunt bones, her empty hands, her stout heart” (Wallace Stegner, “Ordeal by Handcart,” p. 85; also in Remember, p. 139).
The story is taken from an account written much later by Margaret Dalglish’s granddaughter (see Carter, comp., Heart Throbs of the West 1:82), who says her grandmother was in the Martin Company. Some have wondered about the accuracy of this story because Margaret Dalglish is usually listed in the Willie Company and also because some journals say that all the members of both the Willie and Martin Companies were in the rescue wagons by the time they reached the Valley. The author chose to adapt it and make use of it here, not to try to resolve the issues, but rather because whether it happened exactly as described or not, it captures a feeling that many of the emigrants, and especially the women, must have had toward those two-wheeled vehicles that became so much a part of their lives that summer of 1856.
The entry for 2 November in the Willie Company journal reads, in part: “Camp rolled out. Ephraim Hanks passed our camp this morning, bringing news from the valley of many teams being on the road, and that he was going on to the rear companies to meet them” (in Turner, Emigrating Journals, p. 51; also in Remember, p. 14).
The independent wagon companies traveling in rough tandem with the Martin Handcart Company were obviously not under the same weight limitations that the handcart companies were. Many of them had contracted with emigrants of the Willie and Martin groups to carry heavier items to Utah for them. An entry in the official history of the Church gives some insight as to how the decision was made to cache the freight at Devil’s Gate and continue on using the wagons to carry the people: “Soon Bro. Grant arrived and prepared the camp for moving. He said to Joseph A. [Young], ‘What would your father do now if he were here?’ Joseph answered: ‘If my father was here he would take all the books and heavy material and cache them in order to save the lives of the people.’ So they agreed to do it. They cached all their articles at Devil’s Gate and took up the weak and the feeble and started towards home” (Journal History, 13 November 1856).
The rescue company’s journal entry for 3 November reads: “Remained at same place [Devil’s Gate]. So cold that the company could not move. Sent an express to G.S.L. City, Joseph A. Young, and Abel Garr, to report our situation and get counsel and help” (in Remember, p. 54). This following additional entry gives some indication of the challenge the two men faced riding the 350 miles to the Valley: “Before riding, Young put on three or four pairs of woollen socks, a pair of moccasins, and a pair of buffalo hide over-shoes with the wool on, and then remarked, There, if my feet freeze with those on, they must stay frozen till I get to Salt Lake” (in Remember, p. 54).
Chapter 31
Devil’s Gate to Cottonwood Creek
I
Tuesday, 4 November 1856
> The minute David Granger rolled out of his bed, he knew that they were in for a terrible day. Even inside the tent it was bitterly cold. Once dressed, he stepped outside. One breath of the morning air made him gasp and he quickly pulled his scarf across his face. The snow actually squeaked under his boots, a sure sign that the temperature was below zero.
As he and Stephen Taylor and the other Minute Men set to work, dragging over firewood and nursing the dying coals back into full flame, a few of the people began appearing from out of their tents, but for the most part it was only the men of the rescue company who were up. About half past five, Captain Grant and Robert Burton came out of the old cabin they were using as the camp headquarters. With them were Captain Edward Martin and his five captains of hundreds. Captain Grant called for the rest of his men to come in around them.
“Brethren,” Captain Grant said, once they were in a tight circle, “this is not going to be an easy day.”
Major Burton broke in. “We just checked the thermometer. Right now it is six degrees below zero.”
There was a low whistle from one of the men. David was not surprised. He had been up in the mountains east of Salt Lake cutting firewood enough to know what it felt like when the temperature dropped that low.
George Grant looked up at the sky. Though it was lightening, it was still dark enough for stars to show. The cloud cover was completely gone now, and that partly explained the drop in temperature. Brother Grant turned his face into the wind. It was only a breeze here, coming from the northwest, pouring down gently from the rocky hillsides just behind them. David guessed what his leader was thinking. Once they left the shelter of the rocks and got out in the open, it would be blowing stiffly. As the day wore on, it could become a major factor in dealing with the cold.
Captain Grant turned back, his eyes somber. “The people are rested somewhat, but they are still weak, and as you know, we still have many who are too ill to go on their own. We’re going to have to take them in the wagons. We will leave most of the handcarts here. We’ve instructed the subcaptains to go through their hundreds and select the few carts they feel are still in the best condition. We’ll put what tools we have and the cooking utensils—pots, frying pans, skillets, kettles, dishes, cups—into those carts. Food, tents, bedding, and extra clothing will go into the wagons.”
Fire of the Covenant Page 70
