Everyone turned in for the night with mixed emotions: excitement because the end of their long journey was so close at hand and dread over what they would find on the water the next day. Brenna and Ben sat up watching the fire long after everyone else had gone to bed.
“Are you worried about tomorrow?” Ben asked Brenna, putting his arm over her shoulders.
“A little,” she admitted. “I wish you could be with me on our wagon.”
“Why don’t you come on our wagon?” Ben asked.
“I need to help Conor and Ma.”
“They’ll be alright, Brenna. I really want you to be with me.”
Brenna looked at Ben and saw his worry. “I promise to be safe, Ben.”
“I’m going to keep you close, Brenna. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
Rapids
Chapter Thirty-Five
The next morning, the wind was screaming through the canyon. Everyone had a quick meal, and then the men proceeded to load the rafts and wagons. Emily Brown hadn’t done well on the river. She was pale and bedraggled, and she didn’t care how she looked. Buster shivered next to her. He knew something was wrong with his mistress. She wasn’t giving him the attention she usually lavished on him. Abel Brown barely paid any attention to Emily. He knew she would rally when they got to Oregon City.
Rebecca tried to get Emily to drink water and eat something, but Emily turned green at the sight or smell of food, and she could barely keep water in her stomach. James made Emily some herbal tea and that seemed to help. She sipped at the tea and watched the other women hug each other and wish each other well. I’m going to die, she thought. No one will ever find my body, and no one will care. She felt light-headed and her vision was blurry. She hardly had the strength to get up and move to the canoe when it was time. Buster curled up in her lap and whined softly.
The procession of boats, canoes, and rafts proceeded down the now swiftly moving river. It didn’t take long before the gorge narrowed. The cliffs alongside were high and rocky. The river was running faster the further they went. There was a roar ahead, and Emily vaguely wondered if the sound was a monster that would swallow her whole.
Soon, the lead boats rounded a bend and the overlanders saw the source of the loud roar. The rapids stretched ahead of them cascading downward over boulders and around outcroppings of rock. Many of the women screamed at the sight and clutched their children closely. The canoes with Indian guides were in the lead. They deftly avoided the whirlpools and large rocks. The others followed as closely as they could. Emily swooned at the sight of the rapids, and Abel cursed as he tried to balance himself and hold on to her.
“Emily, wake up!” he yelled, but his plea landed on deaf ears.
Ruth Benson clutched a screaming Mattie who was wrapped tightly in her sling around Ruth’s body. Mary and Tommy clung to their mother, while Thomas tried to help the Indian guide with the raft, which pitched in the churning water.
In the wagon, Annie was terrified and howled loudly. Rebecca held on to her tightly. James and Sam tried to keep the same course as the raft ahead. Behind them, Michael Flannigan was having trouble with his wagon. It was not balancing properly, and it pitched erratically from side to side. He was trying desperately to keep the wagon on course, but at one point, it slid into a whirlpool and spun around.
“Hold on everyone!” Michael yelled as he tried to turn the wagon in the treacherous water. Just as he got the wagon turned around, it dropped into a hole and wedged against large boulders. Water was coming into the right side of the wagon.
“Get to the left side,” Michael screamed. Everyone moved over causing the wagon to tip precariously on its side, but it stopped the water from rushing in. He was trying to think of how to dislodge it from the rocks.
Ben watched helplessly from behind. He saw the Flannigans’ wagon dip into the whirlpool and knew they were in trouble. He wanted to jump in and help them, but he knew that was foolhardy in these rapids. He could only watch in horror as the drama unfolded.
Michael yelled, “One by one, come up to the front if you can.”
Conor made his way slowly to the front of the wagon. Then Kate followed. Just as Brenna started, the wagon lurched and freed itself, and Brenna flew over the side and into the freezing and churning water.
“Brenna!” Kate screamed.
Brenna surfaced swallowing a mouthful of water. She was disoriented and the roiling water spun her around. She felt her knee painfully hit a rock. Through the frothy water, she saw her parents and Conor up ahead in the wagon. Kate’s face was tortured looking back at her. Brenna wondered vaguely if this would be the last time she would see them.
“Brenna!” Someone was calling her name.
She was able to look behind her to see Ben and his father steering their wagon towards her.
“Brenna! Grab this rope when we go by!” Ben had his lasso. The water was numbing and she wasn’t sure she could move her arms. Her heavy skirt was dragging her down. The wagon was getting closer, and Ben was twirling the lasso above his head. He was staring at her intently.
“Get ready, Brenna! I know you can do this!” Brenna didn’t answer for fear of swallowing more water.
Now they were nearly parallel to her and twenty feet away. Ben let the lasso fly at the critical moment. The loop flew up and out and landed in the water right in front of Brenna. She grabbed at it and caught it before it disappeared in the churning water. She quickly put it over her head and under her arms. Ben wasted no time in hauling on the rope. Soon, Brenna was alongside the wagon. While Hans steered, Ben reached over and grabbed Brenna’s arm. He pulled her part way out of the water. Her wet clothing was very heavy and he felt her slipping.
“Ben!” She screamed.
“Hold on, Brenna! I’ve got you!” He wedged his feet under a cross board and leaned over the side of the wagon. Now that he had better purchase, he was able to use both his arms to pull her up and over the side of the wagon. She lay on top gasping for breath.
“Brenna, stay down until we get through these rapids,” Ben yelled. Up ahead he could see Kate and Conor hugging each other while Michael steered the pitching wagon.
Rebecca had watched the whole thing happen, and her screams mingled with Annie’s howls until she saw Ben pull Brenna into the wagon, and then she cried with relief.
Finally, they were through the worst of it. Gradually the rapids lessened and the wagons and rafts settled into calmer waters. The trip the rest of the way to Fort Vancouver was uneventful.
As the first canoes pulled into the fort, which was also a British trading post, the others followed suit, and they were greeted by many men and women on shore who helped the weary travelers off the boats, wagons, and rafts.
Emily had awakened in the calmer water only to succumb to a violent bout of seasickness. She had spent the last part of the river trip with her head over the side of the canoe. Buster whined and pulled on her sleeve with his teeth.
“Just let me die, Mr. Brown,” she cried.
Abel was too disgusted to answer.
When the Hanssons’ wagon came into shore, Michael Flannigan helped Brenna off. Kate hugged Brenna to her tightly and cried. “I thought we had lost you!”
Annie stopped crying the moment her feet were on land. “Mama!” she called out. Ruth handed Mattie to Rebecca and picked up the little girl. “You were very brave, Annie.”
After they had all hugged each other, they heard the bad news. One of the rafts had dipped into a whirlpool and capsized. The family had all drowned. While they came together and mourned the loss of their friends, they felt comfort in each other’s arms.
That night the overlanders ate at tables for the first time since leaving Independence. Ruth and Thomas Benson sat across from each other at a long plank table in the home of Frank and Viola Clark. This kind couple took the whole family in and gave them a hot meal of venison, green beans, and potatoes. As they sat together around the table with the steaming bowls of food in front of them, t
hey joined hands and Thomas said grace.
“Lord, we thank you for this bountiful meal and these kind people. We give thanks for our safe landing here at Fort Vancouver. We pray that our new life in Oregon City is happy and prosperous. Amen.”
“Amen,” echoed around the table. The weary family enjoyed the meal and entertained their hosts with stories from their journey.
John McLoughlan, the Chief Factor of the fort, made sure that all the families had been taken in by settlers and immigrants who had established residency near the fort. That night, most people slept under a roof. A few of the overlanders were restless and carried their bedrolls outside under the stars, where they had no trouble falling asleep. The hardest part of the journey was over, and the relief spent itself in exhaustion and deep sleep.
The next day everyone went into the fort to buy supplies. Many were penniless but the Chief Factor extended them credit so they would have a start. The next day most of the travelers would continue south to Oregon City, the seat of the American Provisional Government, and the Willamette Valley.
Home
Chapter Thirty-Six
Oregon City
October 17, 1852
Oregon City was bustling with activity. There were dry goods stores, eateries, saloons, a millinery shop, a blacksmith, three grocers, a bank, and a land office. One of the hotels, the Oregon House, had a vacancy sign, and Emily and Abel Brown made their way over. The proprietor, Mr. Garcia, showed them to a clean room with a four-poster bed, a small desk and chair, a washstand and mirror, and a wardrobe. Emily sat down shakily on the chair. She hadn’t felt well since the river trip.
“I’m going to locate our belongings and have them sent over here, Emily.” Abel Brown looked at her dirty dress and disheveled hair. “I’ll tell Mrs. Ortiz you’ll be wanting a bath. When I get back I’ll have one too.” He left the room. Emily immediately went to the bed and instantly fell asleep with Buster curled up next to her.
Soon there was a knock on the door. “Mrs. Brown, your bath is ready.” Emily sank into the steaming water and closed her eyes. As her aching muscles relaxed, she began to return to her senses. Her mind’s eye saw the long journey anew. She relived the tearful departure from her childhood farm, the terrifying river crossings, Ernest’s and her Father’s deaths, and the letter from the woman she had always thought of as her mother. Everything had been such a blur. Her marriage to Abel Brown had been a nightmare. He was cold and demanding, and he didn’t hesitate to use any means at his disposal to get what he wanted.
“If only he hadn’t read the letter,” she mused. Abel knew her secret and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it against her if she ever crossed him. She sighed deeply. Life certainly had taken a turn.
She woke up some time later when the bath had cooled. Taking the bar of soap from the holder, she scrubbed her body, washed her hair, and quickly dried herself with the towel. She donned a clean chemise and dress from the bag Abel had had sent over with their other belongings, and then she returned to their room. She brushed her hair and let it hang loose to dry. It fell nearly to her waist in long, lustrous locks. She surveyed herself in the mirror. She was thin, which made her look older than her nineteen years. Her high cheekbones and generous mouth gave her an uncanny beauty. Her brows were like wings that defined eyes so dark they looked bottomless, eyes that had a knowing look of experience that was rarely found in one barely nineteen.
The door opened and Abel entered. He was taken aback by the figure of Emily before him. She looked young and vulnerable with her hair cascading around her shoulders, and he was struck again with her uncommon beauty.
“I see you’ve had your bath and a little rest,” he queried.
“Yes, and I feel much better now,” Emily said.
“Good. I’m going to get a bath and then we’ll find a restaurant and have dinner. I have something to discuss with you.”
The Bensons had a joyful reunion with Thomas’s brother William, his wife Dorothy, and their three children. They had left Iowa three years earlier, and Thomas and Ruth had never seen the youngest boy, Louis. He was a sturdy three-year-old. Parker, seven, had grown. William and Dorothy hugged the children and exclaimed over Annie and Mattie.
“Deborah is no longer with us,” Thomas said.
“Oh, no!” Dorothy exclaimed. “I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging Ruth tightly. The women clung to each other briefly.
“She would have loved it here,” Ruth said, her voice catching.
After a moment of silence, William cleared his throat.
“We were able to rent a house for you that recently was vacated. It’s smaller than your Iowa house, but bigger than the wagon you’ve been living out of.”
“Is it close to you?” Tommy asked, standing next to his cousin Robert who was the same age as he was.
“Yes, it’s close. You boys will be neighbors.”
The boys looked at each other and smiled. They had been inseparable when they lived in Iowa, and they had instantly renewed their friendship in Oregon City.
“Let’s get your wagon and head on out,” William said.
Molly the mare pulled Thomas’s wagon and Rascal, her colt, followed behind. They traveled a few miles out of town with most of the children in William’s wagon bed.
The house was a clapboard two-story painted white with a shingled roof. There was a broad porch at the front. A huge tree shaded the west side, and a lonely swing hung from a sturdy branch. Mary ran over to the swing and jumped on. Soon she was swinging high above the ground. A sparsely wooded glade stretched out in back behind a small barn.
“I think this should work out until you claim your land and build your new home,” William said.
Thomas put his arm around William’s shoulders. “Thank you, William. I think we’ll be very comfortable here.”
The children, with the adults following, ran up the three steps to the porch and entered through the front door. There was a short hallway with stairs leading to the second story. Tommy and Sam took the stairs two at a time. To the right of the hallway was the parlor with a small fireplace, and to the left, the kitchen with a white enamel sink and a cook stove. A small pie safe stood against one wall. At the back of the house were two small bedrooms.
“Mom, come up here!” Tommy shouted. Mary ran up the stairs, and Ruth and the others followed. Upstairs there were two small bedrooms. Each had a window that looked out over the landscape. The west window opened to branches from the large tree.
“I want this room so I can climb out to the tree,” Tommy said.
“Don’t give it to him, Ma. He’ll fall out and crack his head,” Mary said, looking down from the window to the ground.
“Will not,” Tommy said indignantly.
Ruth laughed. “We’ll sort out who sleeps where later. Let’s go down and look at the barn.
The barn was two hundred yards behind the house. It was sturdily built and painted red. Inside, there were two stalls and a tool shed. Behind that was a room with a wide door for a buggy or carriage.
“Mom! Dad! Look at this!” Sam yelled from outside. They walked behind the barn and saw Sam standing beside a creek. “There’s fish in here!”
“There’s a pump house and the outhouse on the other side,” William indicated, pointing to the east side of the house.
Ruth turned to William and Dorothy. “This is real nice.” She smiled broadly. “It feels good to finally be home.”
Reverend John, Nellie, and Mrs. Mueller breathed a sigh of relief when they arrived in Oregon City. The trip down the Columbia River had been harrowing, but surprisingly, Mrs. Mueller had found it exciting. “I’ve never had such a ride!” she exclaimed when they arrived at Fort Vancouver. She spent little time making the acquaintance of many of the older women who had settled with their families near the fort, and when they found out that John was a minister, they arranged for him to conduct a service the following morning. It was widely attended by the overlanders and the residents.
A
fter the service, a plump gray-haired woman came up to John and handed him an envelope that had GEORGE WEISS printed in neat block letters on the front. She said, “This is the name of my nephew. He runs a dry goods store in Oregon City. He’ll make sure you get settled in. Please give him this letter from me.”
In Oregon City, they found WEISS DRY GOODS and introduced themselves to George Weiss, a robust man with a handlebar moustache. They gave him the letter. He read it through and smiled wistfully. “My aunt is a good woman with a heart of gold. She helped me get started when I came from Pennsylvania three years ago.” He looked at John. “This town needs a minister, Reverend Mueller. We’ve had a few preachers come through but no one who has stayed. I hope you’ll like it here.”
“Thank you, George. We intend to make this our home,” John replied.
“I don’t know if you have made arrangements for lodgings yet, but I have a couple of rooms above the store that you’re welcome to use until you find something else. I used to live up there until recently. I’ve just built a little house a short distance from here. I won’t charge you rent if you will help out in the store. What with all the wagons coming in, I get pretty busy.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Weiss.” John looked for approval to Nellie and his mother. “We’ll take you up on your generous offer.”
They quickly settled in to their new lodgings. Mrs. Mueller’s room was small, but it had a bright east-facing window. John and Nellie’s room was larger, and their window looked out at the hustle and bustle of Main Street. They stood with their arms around each other gazing outside.
“I have a good feeling about this town, Nellie.”
“I do also, John. I think we’re going to fit in here.”
The Flannigans set up camp in a clearing where other overlanders were camped.
“This is temporary until I claim our land. Then we’ll move to the farm and begin building our new home,” Michael said.
Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 Page 22
