The Undaunted

by Gerald N. Lund

  “That I put together? I think it was someone a little higher than me.”

  “But it was in your behalf. You’re the one who got the blessing from Bishop Arthur.”

  “Yes, I was. So how did all of that ruin you?”

  “You left me no choice. I’ve actually been forced to acknowledge that maybe the Lord does care just a little. First thing you know, I’m gonna have to become a believer.” As she laughed delightedly, he grew serious. “We’ve had some marvelous experiences on this trip, Mary. A couple of real miracles.” He told her quickly about the mountain sheep and Salvation Knoll.

  “Well, well,” she said slowly, her eyes twinkling. “You truly have been corrupted, haven’t you.” And then suddenly there were tears in her eyes. “That’s wonderful, David. Truly wonderful.”

  “It takes some getting used to,” he teased, “but I’m adjusting.”

  “Does Molly know any of this?” Then she caught herself. “Of course not. That’s all happened since you left her.” She sat back, watching him thoughtfully, a faraway expression on her face, then finally said, “Something’s troubling you.”

  His surprise showed on his face.

  “What is it? Come on, tell Aunt Mary.”

  He sighed, and this time the weariness showed in his eyes. “I don’t know what to think about that whole thing anymore.” He quickly told her about the “arrangement” he had made with Molly on his return. “I told Abby about Yaheeno and all of that, but I didn’t say anything to Molly. And I’m not sure that I should tell her about these others when I get back. At least not while we’re still on the trail. Won’t it just create more problems?”

  “You mean like making her want to marry you all the more?” she asked dryly.

  “Yes. That’s it exactly. My father and I were talking about this before I left, and he thinks that out here on the trail isn’t the place to work things out between us.”

  “Your father?” she exclaimed. “I thought he was in England on a mission.”

  David slapped his forehead. “That’s right, you don’t know. There’s another little miracle for you.” And he told her about the black lung and his father’s return to Cedar City.

  Now the tears spilled over and trickled down her cheeks. “My, my,” she breathed. “The Lord has really been knocking you around, hasn’t He.”

  “When your head is harder than a blacksmith’s anvil,” he said with a sad smile, “I guess it takes more than a nudge to get through to you.”

  Her eyes were studying him closely now. “So you’ve told Abby, but not Molly. Interesting.” She held up a hand to cut off his response. “And when you got back to Cedar City, you felt compelled to put your relationship on hold. Most men would have tried to push it forward, like President Lunt suggested. Marry them before you go. Does all of this mean you’ve changed your mind about Molly?”

  He was genuinely shocked. “No. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  One eyebrow lifted slowly. “Do you still love her?”

  “Of course I do.” That came out without the slightest hesitation.

  “Wrong question,” she said quickly. Her mouth opened as if to ask another, then shut again.

  “Go on,” he urged. “What’s the right question?”

  She shook her head, her eyes thoughtful now. Finally she leaned forward, her eyes quite earnest. “I once said that you were devilishly handsome, David, and that if I were ten years younger and didn’t love my husband, I would consider marrying you.”

  “I remember that. Actually,” he said, teasing her now, “I didn’t care about the ten-year age difference. But the husband was a bit of a problem.”

  She laughed merrily. “You are such a rogue, David.” But then the smile died away. “But as I thought more about what I said later, I decided I was wrong.”

  “About me being devilishly handsome?”

  She ignored that. “You see, David, women like me, we’re not looking for handsome and charming and dashing. We’re more interested in steady, in strong, in dependable.” She smiled softly. “If there’s a little charm thrown in there too, all the better. But that’s not what makes a strong marriage.”

  “And maybe the same is true going the other way as well.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Molly is a lovely woman. Really quite beautiful, as you know. But I’m not sure I can make her happy.” He grinned. “Not even with all my devilish charm.”

  “Oh, I have not much question about you being able to make her happy. The bigger question for me is, can you be happy making Molly happy? And, can she be happy making you happy?”

  He gave her a quizzical look. “You’d better run that past me one more time.”

  “Let me ask you some questions first. Do you plan to stay here in San Juan once you get the McKennas settled in safely?”

  “I do. My father and I want to start a ranch. Maybe up by the Blue Mountains.”

  “Does Molly know that?”

  “She does. Maybe not the exact location, but, yes, she knows about the ranch.”

  “And?” she probed softly.

  “That’s what I mean. I’m not sure she would be happy being a rancher’s wife.”

  “And that’s what I meant when I said that I’m not sure she can be happy making you happy. If you decide that the only way she can be truly happy will be in a city or at least a good-sized town, can you be happy giving up your dream of being a rancher?”

  He leaned back, considering that. She went on. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting in any way that this makes Molly flawed somehow. That’s just how Molly is. And she’s a good girl, David. She’ll make a wonderful wife for you. But will she be happy on a ranch? And if she’s not, can you be happy keeping her where she is unhappy?”

  He looked away, finding the question deeply troubling. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do, down deep. I think that’s why you’re so unsettled about this whole thing.”

  He was nodding. This was exactly why he had been looking forward to talking with Mary again. She understood him in ways that Molly didn’t. In fact, in ways that he didn’t understand himself. “So do I tell her now, or wait until we get this whole trail thing over with?”

  She began to draw little circles on the tabletop with her fingers, deep in thought. Finally, she shook her head. “Not now.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, first of all, I think your father’s right. The trail is such an intense experience all by itself, it’s not the place to settle things. But more than that, you made a deal with Molly to hold things back until you reached San Juan. And it sounds like she’s keeping her part of the bargain. If you suddenly announce in mid-trip that everything’s off, it feels like a bit of a betrayal to me.”

  To his surprise, he felt a great sense of relief. “I agree. It’s not fair to her if I change the rules now. It’s best to wait.”

  She stood, looked at him for a moment like she was going to say something more, then moved over to where a blanket hung across a corner of the room, separating the children’s sleeping area from the rest of the one-room house. She pulled the blanket back, then stepped inside. All four of the children were asleep on a straw mattress. She bent down and untangled Emily and young Jim from each other, then pulled the blanket up around Emily’s neck. Eddie was curled in half a ball, with three-year-old John cuddled within the curl. She brushed a strand of hair back, then touched John’s face for a moment. Then she moved to the crib and checked on the baby.

  She came back out into the room, stopping to pull the blanket back in place again.

  David watched all of this, touched by the love he saw in those simple gestures. “So, one last question?” he said as she sat down across from him again.

  “Yes?”

  “Where do I find another woman who’s looking for steady, strong, and dependable?”

  Her look was one of long appraisal before she began to smile. “Oh, David,” she laughed. “You still don’t know, do you.”


  Notes

  ^1. The moving account of finding “Salvation Knoll” comes from Hobbs’s history (see Miller, Hole, 90, 98). In another version, he called it “Xmas Point.” Hobbs said that he climbed it alone, then had the others come up and join him. Charles E. Redd, a grandson of Lemuel Redd, says that all four climbed it together (see Redd, “Short Cut,” 16). It was Christmas Day when this occurred.

  ^2. Peter Shirts was a Mormon pioneer from southern Utah who came to the San Juan country in 1877. He was the only known Mormon who was there before the first exploring party arrived. It is said that he had a great love for the history of Mexico, and that he was the one who gave Montezuma Creek its name (see Miller, Hole, 25–33).

  ^3. The four scouts arrived at what is now Bluff, Utah, on Sunday, the twenty-eighth of December, after being twelve days on the road, the last four of those without food. A family named Harris had settled in that area since Silas Smith’s exploring party had left in August. The four scouts stopped with them overnight before going on to Montezuma Creek where the Harriman and Davis families lived. George Hobbs tells of eating twenty-two of Mrs. Harris’s biscuits, much to her astonishment (see ibid., 90).

  ^4. The details of the arrival of the four explorers in Montezuma Creek, the conditions they found there, along with the information on their plans to return back to the Hole in the Rock camp, all come from Hobbs’s invaluable account (as cited in ibid., 90–92; and Redd, “Short Cut,” 15–18).

  ^v.Just north of present day Kayenta, Arizona, on the Navajo Reservation.

  Chapter 59

  Saturday, January 10, 1880

  Billy Joe was playing “blaster and blower” with several of his friends. He was John Draper, Yorkshire Tyke. Nate Decker, who was a year older than Billy Joe, was Ben Perkins. They were playing in the rocks above the wagon camp where they had found a narrow crack that somewhat resembled the actual Hole. Both were speaking in a rough imitation of a Yorkshire and Welsh accent.

  Nate Decker cupped his hands and bellowed at Billy Joe as if he were a hundred yards away instead of two feet. “Drillers clear?”

  “Drillers clear,” Billy Joe confirmed.

  David Draper stopped behind a small juniper tree, just out of their line of sight. He had come to find Billy Joe, but now he stood transfixed by the little tableau before him.

  “Fuse lit?”

  Billy Joe dragged a short stick along his pant leg as if it were a match. He carefully held it to something unseen in front of him. “Fuse lit. Fire in the hole!”

  “Fire in the hole!” Nate shouted. Both boys dived clear, rolling frantically out of the way.

  Just then Hyrum Fielding, another boy about Billy Joe’s age, stood up. David hadn’t seen him before. He was counting down with his fingers. “Four. Three. Two. One. BOOM!”

  He threw a handful of sand against the rock face and a puff of dust billowed outward, looking quite surprisingly like the blast from an explosion. Then Nate and Billy Joe came bounding back, and they all three did a little dance together.

  “Bravo!” David said, stepping out and clapping his hands.

  They all jumped, but Billy Joe stiffened in shock. “David?” And then he shot forward like a marble from a slingshot. “Hooray!” he whooped. “The scouts are back. David’s back.”

  The family silently watched David as he voraciously emptied a bowl of porridge, using a thick crust of bread as his spoon. He looked up, embarrassed. “Sorry, I was a little hungry.”

  Sarah McKenna had been studying him as he ate, seeing the hollowness in his cheeks and the gauntness around his eyes. “When was the last time you ate?” she asked.

  “About three hours ago, before we crossed the river. The men who were watching for us over there cooked us breakfast. We also ate with them the night before when we found them. I’m afraid we ate everything they had.”

  “And before that?” Abby asked softly.

  He shrugged. “Not sure. Three, maybe four days ago. We were only able to get forty pounds of flour at Montezuma Creek. The two families couldn’t help us. Their crops all washed out back last fall.”

  Molly looked horrified. “No wonder you look like a scarecrow.”

  David laughed. “Didn’t carry a mirror with me, so I hadn’t noticed. Probably smell like one, too. I hope there’s enough water in that rock tank so that I can take a sponge bath and shave before we report to Brother Lyman and Bishop Nielson.”

  “Bishop Nielson said the meeting won’t be until eleven,” Patrick said. “That should give you time.” He leaned forward a little. “But you found a way through?” he said. “A way that we can take the wagons?”

  “We did,” David said with deep satisfaction. “We stumbled around enough trying to do it, but, yes, we did. And we shall so report that. We can move forward with confidence.”

  “Thanks be to the Lord,” Sarah breathed. “We’ve been so worried about you. We expected you back ten days ago at the latest.”

  “We imagined every horrible thing,” Molly said, her voice low.

  “We nearly didn’t make it,” he said quietly. “If the Lord hadn’t intervened, I wouldn’t be here talking to you now.”

  Abby cocked her head and gave him a quizzical look. “So, no more abstract, eh?”

  He didn’t smile. “Aye.”

  “Tell us,” Molly cried, surprised and delighted.

  “You’ll hear about it soon enough, I’m sure.” Then he looked at Abby. “It wasn’t just for me. It was for all of us. And for you back here.”

  Patrick spoke up. “No more now until Billy Joe comes back with John.” He turned to David. “Your father has been sick with worry, as we have.”

  “I am most anxious to see him again.” Then he looked at Sarah. “But while we wait, would you mind if I had another piece of bread?” He picked up a thick slab of cheese. “And where in the world did you get this?”

  “From Panguitch and Escalante,” Patrick explained. “The Panguitch Ward has been sending stuff from their tithing office—potatoes, salt pork, dried fruit, and an occasional brick of cheese—over the Escalante Mountain on packhorses. Then the Escalante Saints bring it on down to us by wagon, weather permitting.”

  Sarah broke off another chunk of bread and cut a thick slice of cheese and handed it to him. “Well, bless them all,” David said between bites. “This is absolute heaven.”

  “Carl went with them,” Abby said.

  David jerked up. “What?”

  Patrick was nodding. “The last group brought some mail from Cedar City. We’ve run into a snag with the sale of the house.” He looked at his daughter. “Since Abby has become such an experienced driver now, we decided we could afford to send Carl back with the Panguitch group. He’ll go on back to Cedar and see if he can put our affairs in proper order again.”

  “Well,” David said. He was watching Abby out of the corner of his eye. If she was troubled by that turn of events, she was hiding it well. “That’s a surprise,” he finally said.

  “Not really,” Molly said, somewhat wistfully. “He was trying hard not to show how relieved he was. He told me that he’s really a city boy at heart.”

  “But,” Sarah added, “we kept the number in the camp the same. Anna Decker had her baby.”

  That brought a broad smile to David’s face. “So Jim’s a new papa. What was it?”

  “A baby girl. Born a week ago today. They’re going to call her Lena Deseret.”

  “And both are fine?” David asked.

  They nodded at that. Then Sarah straightened, lifting a hand to point. “Here they come.” They turned to see two figures—one small, one large—coming toward them at a dead run.

  David set the bread and cheese down on a rock, leaped up, and ran out to meet them. As his father swept him up in a crushing bear hug, swinging him around and around, David finally managed to gasp, “Save me, somebody! I can’t breathe.”

  They sat around him in a half circle, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their backs and th
e joy of having David back with them. He gave them a pretty thorough account of the scouts’ experience, leaving out only the part about his own personal prayers to the Lord.

  “You really went four days with no food?” Billy Joe said, when David finished the story of George Hobbs eating twenty-two biscuits. He fell quiet as he remembered the solemnity and the joy that first night they arrived at the Harris place.

  But, after a moment, he smiled. “Actually, there were several places I thought about you, Billy Joe. Here’s one thing I wish you all could have seen, but Billy especially. I told you a little bit about finding what we called Slickrock Hill going out.” As they nodded, he added, “Unfortunately, on the way back, when we reached that same place, we found the road was covered with snow and ice. There was no way we could take the animals up that, so we decided we would try to climb up, maybe chip away the ice enough to make a trail.”

  Remembering brought a smile to David’s lips. “But it was so slippery, we kept falling and sliding back down a few feet. Most of us gave up. We decided we’d wait for the sun to hit it and see if that helped. But George Hobbs is pretty stubborn, so he and Bishop Sevy kept trying. We just lay on the ground at the bottom, laughing and hollering as they tried to claw their way up the rock.”

  At the shocked look on their faces, he sobered. “Remember, by this time we’d been without food again for a couple of days. We were light-headed and faint, and I think we were a bit delirious with hunger. But at the time, we thought it was a riot.”

  “An’ did they mek it?” his father asked.

  “They made their way up about two-thirds of the way to the top, where the sun reached the rock. The snow had started to melt, making the slickrock very treacherous. They were up far enough that they were out of our sight by then, but we heard Bishop Sevy yell, ‘Watch out, George. You’re gonna fall.’”

  Now David laughed aloud. “And he did.”

  Abby frowned. “And you thought that was funny?”

  “He didn’t fall off a cliff,” David quickly explained. “He just slipped and fell on his backside. But the hillside was so steep and icy, it was like he had fallen into a toboggan. We heard him yelling and looked up. All of a sudden, there he came, shooting around a corner, hands out to steady himself, spraying snow out on both sides of him, yelling like a banshee.