The Work and the Glory

by Gerald N. Lund

  The Wellers introduced their wives and children. When they were done, Nathan turned back to the slough. It was late in the afternoon and the day wasn’t too much longer with them. “Well, let’s see if we can give you a hand and get that wagon out of there. We’ve got some rope. Let’s try that. We’ll probably have to use your animals and ours.”

  The five men turned to survey the mud hole as Caroline and the children moved over and began to talk with the Weller women and their children.

  “We got stuck last night just as it was coming on sundown,” Calvin Weller said in disgust. “This morning we hitched up all seven span of oxen to it. That’s when the tongue snapped.”

  “The mud’s hardening some,” Joshua observed. “Derek, get the shovels and we’ll dig around the wheels while they get the animals harnessed up.”

  “Once we get you out,” Nathan said, “you’re welcome to travel on with our family until we catch up with Brother Brigham and the main party.”

  The older man glanced quickly at his brother. Behind them, the women had heard that too, and went suddenly quiet. After a moment, Jacob Weller cleared his throat. “We’re obliged for that, but uh . . . we won’t be headed on. We’re turnin’ around.”

  “You’re going back to Nauvoo?” Derek blurted.

  “For a time. Then on to Chattanooga, I think.”

  No one said anything for a moment, and the older Weller looked down at the ground. “I know everybody’s saying that going to the Rocky Mountains is the Lord’s will, but figger this—if we’re doing the Lord’s will, how come my wagon tongue broke in half?”

  “You can’t blame the Lord for things like that,” Nathan answered. “It just happens. Our axle broke when we put too much pressure on it trying to lift it with a pole.”

  “It’s more than that,” Jacob Weller said, not meeting Nathan’s eyes. “It’s everything. Dragging our families out here. Not having a place to go. Knowing there’re Indians waiting for us.” He shrugged. “We’ve been having a meeting. It’s decided. We don’t think the Lord expects that much of us. If he did, why isn’t he blessing us? We’re going back home.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw the women nodding emphatically. So it wasn’t just the men making this choice. He thought of what he might say that could make a difference, then knew that wasn’t his charge. “No one called us to sit in judgment,” he said, meaning it. “It’s not an easy thing we’re asked to do.”

  Joshua was relieved at Nathan’s response. He didn’t like the idea of people losing heart so easily—they weren’t even fifty miles from Nauvoo yet!—but it wasn’t their place to live other people’s lives. “You know what those going across the Oregon Trail call the trek?” he asked the two brothers. “They call it ‘seeing the elephant.’ No one’s going to fault you for choosing another way.”

  “Obliged for that. Wouldn’t make much difference if you tried to change our minds.”

  “Well,” Derek said, “let’s get you out. You’re not going either way as long as you’re stuck in there. And we’re anxious to get on and catch Brother Brigham.”

  “Man passed about half an hour ago,” Jacob Weller said, “taking a message back to Nauvoo. He said that Brigham Young has stopped at a place called Richardson’s Point and is waiting there for a time, giving people a chance to catch up.”

  The Steeds perked up at that news. “Did he say how far along Richardson’s Point is?” Nathan asked.

  “Twenty, maybe twenty-five miles is all.”

  Nathan felt a great relief. That was one very long day, or perhaps a day and a half, but then they would have caught up with the main company again. That was good news. “Thank you. That will help us greatly.”

  Joshua tossed his head toward the slough. “So let’s see if we can’t get you your wagon back.”

  It took three-quarters of an hour. Fortunately, the Wellers had already unloaded everything from the mired wagon except some blankets and a few articles of clothing. They unhitched the mules and the horses from Derek’s wagon—they were too tired to do much good here—and put four yoke of oxen on instead. Then they tied two thick ropes from the back of Derek’s wagon to the back of the Weller wagon. Joshua and Derek and Jacob Weller waded into the slough and dug a track for the wheels. The mud was still a very thick goo that grabbed at them like a hundred unseen hands, but since Tuesday, it had dried enough that when they dug it away from the wheels, it only oozed back very slowly.

  When they were ready, the older Weller stood at the head of the oxen. Nathan, Derek, Joshua, and Jacob Weller took their places at the wagon and leaned into it. “All right,” Joshua hollered. “Go!”

  Calvin Weller cracked the bullwhip over the heads of the oxen. They lunged against their yokes, bellowing and grunting. The four men threw their weight against the wagon. For a moment nothing happened, and then slowly the wagon started to move.

  “Go! Go!” Nathan urged.

  And it did. Once they got the momentum, the wagon was pulled backwards up and out of the slough. As it rolled free and the men dropped to their knees, gasping for breath, the children clapped and the women laughed and pointed. Everyone ran forward to gather around. “Much obliged,” Calvin Weller said, coming around to join the men who were staggering to their feet. He began to untie the ropes off his wagon.

  Derek wiped his hands against his trousers, eyeing the other wagon. “Well, you’re out of the mud, but that doesn’t solve your other problem. What are you going to do about getting a new wagon tongue?”

  The two Weller brothers turned to survey the damaged wagon. Finally, Jacob shrugged. “We’ve already put most of the stuff in the good wagon. We’ll go on back to Nauvoo. If we can get another tongue, we’ll come back out and get it. If not . . .” He shrugged.

  Nathan’s head came up slowly and he stared at the disabled wagon, feeling his pulse suddenly pounding. “I’ve got another solution for you,” he said carefully, his mind racing even as he started to speak.

  “What’s that?”

  “How about trading us your wagon?”

  Joshua was bent over, wiping the mud from his hands on the dry prairie grass. His head snapped up. Derek jerked around too.

  “You want that wagon?” the older Weller brother said in surprise.

  Nathan grinned. “Well, we’d love to get your other one too, but I’m assuming you’re going to need that to get you back home. So yes, I’m talking this one.” He gestured toward the wagon they had just retrieved. The tongue was shattered, that was true, but other than that it was solidly built and looked relatively new. It was bigger than Derek’s and more trail worthy. “You probably met my brother Matthew last night. He’s a carpenter. He can make us another tongue.”

  “That’s right,” Derek said eagerly.

  Jacob Weller was nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, he showed us the axle he made. It was good work.”

  “And what are you trading?” Calvin asked warily.

  Nathan felt as if he were sprinting effortlessly down a path with the wind at his back. The thoughts were coming with perfect clarity. “Actually,” Nathan said, choosing his words carefully, “if you’re serious about heading back, not going on with Brigham—” He stopped, giving them a chance to reconsider. He didn’t want to be the factor that nudged them into making what was in Nathan’s mind a terrible mistake.

  “We are,” Calvin Weller said flatly.

  “All right. Then I’d like to make you a better offer.” He laughed shortly. “You want to sit down first?”

  Joshua was staring at him, starting to see what was happening but saying nothing, letting Nathan run with whatever idea he had.

  “We’d like to buy you out completely.”

  “What?” The two brothers said it almost as one.

  “We’re looking for an outfit for Joshua and his family, so here’s what I’d suggest. You take our wagon and the mules and the horses. You take whatever you need to get you back to Nauvoo and leave everything else here.”

&nbs
p; The Wellers were dumbfounded and gaped at him. “You mean everything?” asked Calvin.

  “I mean everything,” Nathan said, trying to hold down his exultation. “Food, wagons, oxen. I assume you have a tent.”

  “Two of them,” Jacob Weller said, still not believing what he was hearing.

  “We’d take the better of the two.” Nathan glanced quickly at Joshua, who had stood up and was looking as astonished as the two Wellers. Caroline had come forward now and was watching Nathan with wide eyes.

  “But . . . ,” Jacob started, with a splutter. “Are you crazy? That’s everything we have.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t seem like much of a trade, does it?” He stopped, letting it all sink in for a moment, then went on eagerly. “But remember, it’s only two days back to Nauvoo. Do you have a place to stay there?”

  “No,” Calvin answered. “We never had enough money to do anything but rent a small cabin for the two of us.”

  “Well,” Nathan said slowly, letting the final piece drop into place, “what if we gave you a house in trade for the tent?”

  There was a collective gasp but Nathan ignored it. He turned to Joshua and Caroline. “That is,” he said quietly, “assuming the owners of the house are willing to consider that.”

  “You mean that—” Joshua stopped, first staring at his brother, then at his wife. His mind was whirling. The sheer audacity of it was stunning. And yet it was so simple. This would solve his concerns. Two wagons. Plenty of oxen. A tent. Food. In a word, a complete outfit. It was enough. No, not enough. More than enough. Enough and to spare. It was incredible.

  “What do you think?” he said to Caroline, already knowing the answer.

  She smiled, gave one brief nod, then turned to the Wellers. “It’s our home. It’s on Granger Street, between Mulholland and Ripley Streets.”

  Both shook their heads. “We’ve only been in Nauvoo since November,” Calvin explained. It was clear that both he and his brother were dazed by what was happening.

  “It’s a beautiful home,” Caroline rushed on, turning to the two women. “It’s two stories, all brick. There’s a large barn. Most of the furnishings are still there.” She described the inside of the house quickly.

  The Wellers listened to her, then on signal from Calvin stepped back and went into a quick huddle, whispering urgently amongst themselves. As they did so, the Steeds went into a huddle of their own. Nathan looked at Joshua. “I should have asked you first,” he whispered. “But it came in such a rush. I would have offered our home, but we deeded it to the Church trustees in Nauvoo.”

  “And I deeded mine to Carl and Melissa,” Derek added.

  Joshua was shaking his head. “It’s enough, Nathan.”

  Nathan misunderstood. “I’m sorry, Joshua. I didn’t mean to—”

  Joshua reached out and took him by the shoulders and stopped him. “It’s enough. We’ll probably never sell the house anyway. Carl will be lucky to get ten cents on the dollar for it.”

  “Less, maybe,” Derek said. “John D. Lee told me that the Church trustees got twelve dollars and fifty cents for his house and farm, and he estimates they’re worth about eight thousand dollars.”

  Joshua shrugged. “The house isn’t going to do us any good where we’re going.”

  “Then it’s all right?” Nathan asked slowly, hardly daring to believe it was this easy.

  “All right?” Joshua cried. “It’s wonderful!”

  “Oh, yes, Nathan,” Caroline exclaimed. “This is the answer to our prayers.”

  “Yes,” Nathan said in wonder, “it is, isn’t it?”

  Before she could respond to that, the Wellers broke up and the two brothers came back over, followed by the women and children now, who were clearly excited. But Calvin was still troubled. “Look,” he began, “your offer is more than fair, but we’re not sure we need a house. We’ve got to get back to Tennessee. We can’t do that with one wagon and a couple of mules.”

  “And the horses,” Joshua pointed out. “You know that the horses alone will bring more than enough to replace your oxen.”

  “If they’re available,” Jacob spoke up. “You know what it’s like in Nauvoo right now.”

  “But that’s just it,” Nathan burst out. “We have no choice. But you do. You can stay in Nauvoo for a time. By summer, our people will be gone. Then there won’t be the shortages anymore.”

  Joshua jumped in. “You could even stay in the house until next spring if you had to. The house alone is worth four or five thousand dollars.”

  Calvin looked at Jacob. Clearly they were torn, but they were not yet convinced. Suddenly, to everyone’s surprise, Savannah spoke up. “Mr. Weller?”

  Calvin turned. “Yes?”

  “There’s a beautiful piano in the house.”

  Caroline and Joshua both whirled.

  Calvin’s wife stepped forward. “And that would be included?”

  Joshua went to his daughter. “Savannah, are you sure? I told you I would come back for it.”

  “I know, Papa. But it’s more important that we go west.”

  Joshua straightened slowly and looked at Caroline, who nodded.

  Then, again catching everyone by surprise, Savannah looked at Calvin Weller. “It’s a Knabe piano. The best they make. We’d have to have the second tent too if we give you the piano.”

  Caroline’s mouth opened, then shut again. Nathan choked a little. Derek tried to suppress a grin.

  “But what will we—”

  Calvin Weller’s wife came forward and grabbed his arm. “We can sleep on the ground for one night if we have to,” she said urgently. “It’s a piano, Calvin. For Sarah. A piano!”

  The teenaged girl came up beside her mother. “Please, Papa.”

  The two brothers stepped back again, whispering urgently with one another. Finally, the older one turned back to face Joshua and Nathan. “Tell me again exactly what you are offering.”

  Nathan spoke slowly and distinctly. “You get our wagon, the two mules, the two horses, and a deed to the house in Nauvoo with all its furniture—” He looked at Savannah. “Including the piano. For that, you take what is necessary to see you back to Nauvoo and we take the rest.”

  “Including both tents,” Savannah reminded him.

  Nathan grinned. “Including both tents.”

  One more time Calvin Weller turned and looked at his family. They were all nodding, including Jacob. He swung back around, extending his hand. “I guess you’ve got a deal.”

  Chapter 7

  On Saturday, March seventh, Brigham Young called a halt to the westward march and made camp at a place known as Richardson’s Point. The muddy roads had cost them dearly. Wagons were in need of repair, teams were exhausted, and many of the Saints were strung out for miles behind the main company. A rest was badly needed. He would stop for two days before pushing on, he decided.

  The next day being the Sabbath, no work was done. The Twelve called for a combined worship service, the first such joint meeting held since they had crossed the Mississippi River more than a month before. The rest of the day was spent quietly visiting with friends, neighbors, and family, reading the scriptures, and cooking simple meals. But come Monday morning, the day of rest was over and everyone pitched in so that they could depart the following day. Throughout the day, other families continued to straggle into the camp. Though they would have little rest, they were grateful that they had caught up with the main company.

  Brigham wished there was time to let the stragglers lay over and rest as well, but he was growing increasingly anxious. They had been on the road for over a month now and were still only fifty-five miles from Nauvoo. That was not acceptable. Winter came early in the Rocky Mountains, and they had to find a home in time to plant crops and get food enough to see them through until spring. At suppertime he sent out the word. They would move out in the morning.

  But nature has a way of reminding men that they are only intruders in her domain and that while on
her terrain they must dance to her music. That same Monday evening, shortly after dark, it began to rain. It came softly at first, almost more a mist than actual raindrops. Those wise to Mother Nature’s capricious moods understood the gentle warning for what it was. They immediately saw to their tents and wagons. They lashed down the wagon covers, trenched around the tents, checked to make sure everything was covered or put away. Within an hour the mist had turned to a steady drizzle. By the time the trumpeter sounded lights out at nine o’clock, the rain had become torrential and the camp was quickly becoming a quagmire.

  In his tent, Brigham stopped for a moment and listened to the drumming of the rain on the canvas above him. Finally, with a weary sigh, he leaned over and blew out the lamp. There would be little sleep tonight, he thought. Not that it would make a lot of difference. No one would be going anywhere in the morning.

  The Steeds had not caught up with the main company by Tuesday as hoped. First of all, after Nathan’s group had rejoined the rest of the family—who were elated that Joshua had brought with him Caroline and the children—it had taken almost a full day to fix the wagon tongue on their newly acquired wagon. They started off late Monday afternoon, but made only three miles before the rain commenced and they had to stop. The next morning, rain or no rain, they pushed on, slogging onward at a snail’s pace in the miserable conditions. By Tuesday night, when Nathan had hoped to be back with the main camp, they were still eleven miles from Richardson’s Point. Once again they made camp in a pouring rain.

  “Mama!”

  Lydia turned her head toward her youngest son. In the blackness of the tent she could see nothing, not even the shapes in the bedrolls that filled the tent. She went up on one elbow. “What is it, Joseph?”

  “A leak, Mama.”

  “Another one?” Nathan said with a groan.

  “Yes, Papa. This one hit me in the face.”

  “We only have one more pan, Papa,” Emily said from another corner.

  “I’ll get it,” Josh said. Nathan heard the bedclothes rustle as his son got himself out from beneath the covers.