"George and Jared and Ty, I need you boys to hitch up the wagons. We are going to have a quick breakfast and pack up the wagons. Today will be a travel day …" he pauses and swallows hard, "… after a funeral service in Willow Springs."
William sets off for Willow Springs and the rest of us herd the oxen and horse over to the wagons.
"What's the matter with the oxen this morning?" I complain to George. "It's like they forgot how to go."
"They haven't been worked for three days," George replies. "They get a little lazy. But they will shape up once we get them on the trail."
The horse is no better. I have to coax her into position in front of the wagon. She isn't too excited about the collar, saddle and breeching strap, but then settles down and submits to the harness.
"How is it going?" Henry says as he inspects the collar and girth.
"It is a lot easier when William helps me," I say, laughing.
"Yes it is," Henry agrees. "William has a gentle touch with horses that calms them down. And he knows how to adjust the harness so it fits. If it rubs it will cause sores. Looks like you did a good job here, though."
"Thanks,"
"Why don't you come over for a bite to eat, and then we can start loading."
"Okay," I say, walking over to join the rest of the family by the fire.
Henry removes his hat, "Let's have family prayer." He bows his head and in the short silence that follows I hear a nearby bird call a brief melody and another far away answer. "Dear Father," he says. "We bow our heads before thee in great sadness because of our son and brother, Joseph, has left us on this day to return unto thee. And we will miss him dearly." Henry's voice breaks and he is silent again for a few moments. Through the silence I hear sad stifled cries and quick quiet sniffs from Joseph's heart broken family. My eyes squish with tears and my heart aches. Henry continues, "Please bless his soul and watch over him. Please bless this food and bless our travels this day with safety and with thy holy spirit to comfort us."
Henry ends the prayer and we all say, "Amen." Annie and Grandma Brettle hand out bread and a piece of cooked venison.
"Do you need help with the oxen?" I ask George, cutting through the gloomy silence like a knife through butter.
"Ah … no," he says, returning from where ever his thoughts had taken him. "We have two oxen yoked up. The other two will only take a few minutes."
"Okay. I see how it is. You two just want to keep all the fun for yourselves," I say, pretending to be offended.
"No!" George says quickly. "We −"
"Yes!" Ty interrupts, laughing. "We want all the fun!" Ty pokes George. "He's joking. He's just teasing us."
George gives me half a smile. "If it's fun you want, you can start loading those boxes from the kitchen." He laughs.
I laugh, too. "Thanks, George."
I finish my bread and go help Henry fold up blankets and roll up canvas, loading them in the wagon as we finish each one. I help Henry and Elizabeth wrap Joseph in a blanket, then Henry and I lift and place his body gently onto the wagon drawn by the horse.
Forty minutes later the wagons are loaded, and with a click of my tongue and a prod from George's ox goad the two wagons start creaking and squeaking with chains rattling on their way toward Willow Springs.
We find William in front of the store in Willow Springs. "Come inside, Father," William says. "The clerk wants to talk with you."
Henry walks inside and I see William quietly measure Joseph with a piece of string, then he walks back into the store. I go with him.
The clerk is showing to Henry the simple pine coffin and William stretches the string out from one end to the other, but the string doesn't touch both ends of the coffin.
"It's a good size, Father," William says.
"Okay," Henry says. "We will take it, then." Henry pays the clerk with some coins. "Did you find the cemetery?"
"Yes," both William and the clerk answer in unison. The clerk points toward the back of the store. "About two hundred yards that way. You will find five other graves there."
"How do you happen to have a coffin already made?" Henry asks.
"It was for the daughter of one of the ranchers nearby," he says. "But they ended up not needing it."
"How fortunate," Henry smiles. "I bet they are happy."
"No," the clerk sighs. "The daughter went missing and they never found her. They think that maybe Indians took her."
"I'm sorry," Henry says, eyes glistening.
"Thank you," he says. "You can use the back of the store, here, to situate your boy in the coffin and say a few words, if you would like."
"Thank you. You have been most kind to us. Boys," Henry says, "we need a grave dug. Let's go get a shovel."
"Elizabeth and Henry carry Joseph's body into the store, and Ty, George, William and I take turns with the shovel digging a grave at the cemetery. The ground is soft and, even so, it takes over an hour.
Some chairs have been placed around the coffin and the family is sitting quietly. Joseph looks peaceful, like he is sleeping. We sit down.
Henry stands. "I think it would be appropriate to have a prayer at this time. He bows his head and so do we. Henry gives a beautiful prayer that brings tears to my eyes. He reminds us of the joy that Joseph brought to each of us. How he touched our lives with his innocent spirit. How we will miss him until we see him again in heaven.
I sniff hard because otherwise I will cry. Being a pioneer is hard. I'm not cut out to be a pioneer. Lord, I pray, please bless me with the spiritual strength I need to be a pioneer with this family.
Henry finishes his prayer and then asks, "Anyone else wish to speak?"
Elizabeth stands, "Joseph, we love you." She cries and sits back down.
Henry waits a moment then, "Okay boys, you and your grandfather please help with the coffin."
We tap the lid closed with short nails. Each tap feels so final it makes me cry. I want to play hide and seek again. I want to play marbles. I want to teach Joseph to use the sling, but instead we fasten the lid tightly, then in unison lift and carry the small wooden box out to the cemetery. After lowering the coffin gently into the grave, each family member, face streaked with tears, tosses a handful of brown, cold dirt into the grave, then walks back to the store.
Ty, Henry and I take turns returning dirt to the grave. We push a wooden cross with the words "Joseph Cottle" into the dirt at the head of the grave. I swallow hard, "Goodbye, Joseph. Rest in peace."
When we return to the family, William and George have the wagons ready to go. We leave Willow Springs with heavy hearts and we walk in verbal silence for at least two miles.
"Father?" Annie says walking close to Henry and taking his hand as they walk.
"Yes?"
"That wasn't Joseph in the coffin, was it?"
"Well−"
"I touched his face and his hand. It was hard and cold. Joseph wasn't there." Tears slide from her cheeks and she leans her head against his shirt.
"No. I guess you are right." Henry walks a few steps. "It was Joseph's body in the coffin, but Joseph's spirit was not there. It is his spirit, or soul, that you know as Joseph. No, his spirit was gone."
"Where?" She looks up at her father's face. "Where did he go? Where is he?"
Henry stops walking and slowly each member of the family stops, also. "In the Book of Mormon, Alma teaches that when a person dies, his spirit returns to God.
[92] His spirit goes to a place of happiness called paradise. If a wicked person dies, that person goes to a place of misery called outer darkness, until the judgment day."
For a moment Annie looks horrified.
"I'm absolutely certain your brother, Joseph, is in paradise," Henry reassures her.
"I hope so," Annie breathes. "No one would want to be in outer darkness. That would be so awful."
Henry and Annie start walking again and the wagons follow, creaking and rattling, and hooves clopping on the stones embedded in the trail.
"Father?" George calls when Annie and Henry get close to the oxen that George is leading.
"Yes?"
"I heard what you told Annie about paradise, but what does Joseph get to do while he is there? Does he get to play?"
Henry laughs. "I don't know about play. I do know that paradise is a place where Joseph will wait for the resurrection."
Both George and Annie look confused.
"The resurrection is when your body and your spirit come together again. Right now Joseph's body is in Willow Springs. At the time of the resurrection he will get it back. The resurrection is a gift from Jesus Christ."
"He might have to wait a long time," George says. "It could be a hundred years!"
Or more, I think to my self.
"Does he get to do anything else besides wait?" Annie asks hopefully.
"Ooh! I know," I say loudly as I stop walking. The horse and wagon slow to a stop, also. Henry looks at me and smiles.
"He will be taught about Jesus Christ and be taught the gospel. Things like faith, repentance, baptism and the Holy ghost. He will probably learn about the atonement and the resurrection. After he learns all that, he will be asked to go teach the gospel to others who have not had a chance to learn about Jesus Christ. He will be a missionary."
"Where … ?"
I could see doubt in Henry's eyes and I knew what he was about to ask, so I added, "I read that in the scriptures, somewhere. I think it's in First Peter, chapter three and four." I learned about the spirit world in seminary, I think to myself.
"That sounds way better than just sitting around waiting," George says.
I start the horse going again and we mostly walk in silence. I am thinking about the spirit world and Joseph, and I'm sure the others are, too.
We stop for lunch where there is water for the horse and oxen and some small trees for shade, then we get back on the trail.
"There should be a good place to camp in about two miles," Henry says as we walk. "We need to get to the Big Laramie River Stage Station by July 23rd. That is when the freight wagons are scheduled to be there."
Henry does not say more, but I know the unspoken reasons for the urgency in his voice. Thomas doesn't know that Joseph died. Would they be able to meet Thomas at the Stage Station so Henry could talk to him about Joseph? And Henry is worried about Indians. Would they attack a small family with only two wagons? Henry is not the only one worried. I am worried about Indians, too. I like them much better when they are on television and the cowboys always win.
"Where did you learn all that stuff about the spirit world?" Ty asks quietly when he sees that I am alone.
"Seminary," I answer. "That doctrine is in the New Testament and some of the other scriptures."
"Don't you find it fascinating that after this life we will actually continue to live? I mean with our resurrected bodies and everything?"
"Yes, I guess so," I say. I think to myself, I have known this point of doctrine for so long that it just seems natural to me, and does not seem particularly fascinating. "What I really find fascinating is that families can be together forever." I start to hum the primary song and Ty glares at me with eyes that yell, "Don't alter the time continuum."
"Families can be together forever?" William repeats as he walks up behind Ty. He has been listening from a short distance away.
"Absolutely," I say. "You can see Joseph again and be with him as a family. That's God's plan."
"I have always thought that heaven should be that way. I'm glad to know that I will see Joseph again. I miss him a lot."
We get to our camping spot and unload for the night.
We travel quite often now. Not Sundays, of course, and we spend several days in camp to wash clothes and take baths and to hunt for meat. We need to stock up on meat because hunting might be difficult while traveling with the freight wagons.
We pass another stagecoach, and the driver warns us about Indians. "Not the Ute Indians," the driver says. "These are Sioux. I saw them with my own eyes. Faces streaked with paint. Feathers brandished on their heads. They are painted for war, all right."
"Thank you for the information," Henry says.
"Did you have any trouble around Virginia Dale? There are robbers in those hills, you know. It's just not safe."
"No. We went through that area pretty fast."
"Well, you have a safe trip," the stage driver says climbing up into his spring cushioned seat.
"Thank you," Henry says again. "You have a safe journey, too."
The stage driver snaps his whip and the horses lean into their harness. I watch until the stage turns the corner and goes out of sight.
"Do you think he is right, Father?" William asks, trying to sound brave.
"I think most of what he says is gossip. Nevertheless, keep a sharp eye open. No sense stepping into trouble when we can avoid it."
"Yes, Father."
"We need to travel with the freight wagons. That's why it seems urgent to me to get to the Big Laramie River. When we catch up with the wagon train we will be more safe."
* * *
I am lost in my own thoughts when Ty catches up and walks beside me. "Everyone is so quiet," he says. "No one has said more than a couple of words in the last two miles. Are you as concerned about the Sioux as Henry is?" he asks me quietly.
"Of course I am worried about Sioux Indians," I say. "Who wouldn't be?" But in my heart I feel that the real reason we are traveling so much is to distance ourselves from the pain and heartache back at Willow Springs. No one speaks much of Joseph because the wound is still fresh. It hurts so deep inside that sometimes I clutch my chest. "But, you know, I miss Joseph so much that it hurts. So, it just seems better not to speak of him, I guess."
"Tutankhamun said −,"
"Who? What?" I tilt my head and squint at Ty, and I wonder if he is making up the name.
"King Tut said, or actually, it was found written on his tomb that 'To speak the name of the dead is to make them live again, and restores the breath of life to him who has vanished'."
Monday, July 23
My feet ache and my whole body is weary when we finally arrive at the Big Laramie River. Personally, I don't think the Big Laramie River is all that big. It is nothing like the Snake River in Idaho, and smaller than the Green River in Southern Utah. It seems about like the Gila River in Arizona.
"Let's move up river a bit, boys," Henry calls. "Let's find a good camp before dark."
Walking a little further is the last thing that I want to do, but the sun is low in the sky, hugging the horizon in a big red ball, so we set out looking for a suitable camp near water and grazing pasture for the animals.
"Did you see all the commotion back there at the freight wagons?" William says.
"Yes," I answer. It seems like they would be more organized."
"I know. Maybe we can talk Pa into going to the wagons tonight and see what is happening."
Not too far from the freight wagons we find the perfect spot and soon have camp set up. Elizabeth, Annie and Grandmother Brettle are busy preparing dinner and the animals are hobbled near the water and grass.
"Someone is coming," George says, pointing down river toward the stage station.
I follow his gaze through the brush and trees to see two men on foot walking toward us.
"Thomas?" Elizabeth cries, dropping her spoon in the pot and running to greet him with a huge hug.
"Mother. I thought that was you. I saw the wagons pull by our camp."
"Come on over. I'll have some dinner ready soon. You and −" her eyes shifted to the young man who was standing by Thomas.
"Caden O'Neal, ma'am." He nods his head politely.
"Caden, please join us, also," Elizabeth says.
"Thank you, ma'am," Caden says. But me and some of the boys are going over to the stage station tonight, but thank you kindly."
"Mother, I will be back soon. We are on assignment to scout the river for a place to ford her, and we only have a few minutes left befo
re dark."
"Come back soon and we will have dinner ready." She waves as the two boys head up river.
I hear Elizabeth humming as she returns to the fire.
In a few minutes I see Thomas and Caden returning and this time Henry goes to greet them. I watch as Caden shakes Henry's hand and then walks away. Henry and Thomas talk for a minute more and I know what is being said. Thomas looks surprised and shocked, then hugs his father for a long time. Finally they turn and walk back into camp, Henry's arm around Thomas, tears in both of their eyes.
"Thomas!" William and George exclaim almost simultaneously.
"It sure is good to see you all," he says.
"Everyone sit down. I'm serving dinner right now," Elizabeth interrupts.
Henry offers the blessing on the food and the evening prayer, thanking God that Thomas is well and safe.
Elizabeth and Annie serve stew and a biscuit.
"So what's all the commotion in the freight camp?" Henry asks.
"Well, apparently there is a bridge over the river near the Laramie Stage Station," Thomas says.
"That's good, isn't it?"
"Yes and no. The bridge is a good idea," Thomas says, "but the bridge is a toll bridge."
"How much is the toll to cross?" Henry asks.
"That's just it. The wagon master and the toll man got into a dispute about the price to cross. He is asking for two dollars for each wagon. The wagon master will never pay that. It's too much."
"I agree. It is a lot to ask," Henry says taking a bite of stew. "So, what's his plan? What is he going to do?"
"We are already scouting for a suitable crossing. He plans to ford the river. We are repositioning the supplies in the wagons so they don't get wet. We will cross in the morning."
"Okay. We'll be ready to move out in the morning, too, then."
Thomas finishes eating and Elizabeth picks up his bowl and spoon.
"Thanks, Mother," Thomas says. "It was delicious as always."
I look at Ty and mouth the word 'sycophantic'. Ty smiles.
"Thank you, Thomas. Can you stay and visit for a while?"
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