He stopped and his shoulders seemed to stoop a little. He looked around, letting his eyes move from face to face. Then he seemed to sigh inwardly before straightening again. “As you know, we have come to this place much more slowly than we originally planned. Many of our brethren and sisters have yet to join us. Some have not even left Nauvoo as yet. In two days it will be the first day of July, well into the summer season.
“It is clear that we cannot, as a body, continue on to the Rocky Mountains. We do not have the means to take all of our people there this season. We have not the food. We have not the teams. We have not the strength.”
Nathan saw Joshua give him a look, half of surprise, half of self-acknowledgment. Joshua had been saying that there was no way they could continue on to the West without facing major disaster.
“Something must be done and be done quickly,” Brigham went on, his voice rising a little as he spoke firmly. “I feel that it is time for a good deed to be done which can bring about a greater good. I would like to propose that a vanguard company be formed and sent across the mountains immediately.”
It didn’t come as a total surprise. Their leader had spoken in such terms before, but for the last two weeks little had been said concerning any further western movement, and many had begun to wonder if the plans would be canceled.
The Apostle’s shoulders pulled back and his voice grew stronger. “The companies must prepare teams and grain and implements of husbandry to send over the mountains immediately. The season is so far advanced that if we are going to do something, it must be done quickly. The people are not willing to let the Twelve go ahead any faster than themselves, and so we are here and can go no farther. We must send on men and teams to prepare a place for us, to plow and plant in preparation to receive us. If we do not send men ahead now, it will throw us back another year and we shall have to buy another year’s provisions for our people.”
He stopped. The whispering among the people had become a low undercurrent of sound. He waited a moment to let the group quiet down again, then went on. Now his voice was steady but filled with determination. “We shall take mules and horses and swift cattle. We shall travel thirty miles a day. I believe that if we choose carefully and move forward with diligence, we can make our destination in thirty-five days, time enough to plant our seed and reap at least
some
crops before the winter snows come.”
Lydia’s hand stole across the space between her and Nathan and took his. He looked at her. She didn’t turn, but in profile he could see the gravity in her eyes. As he looked farther, he saw that same gravity on Caroline’s face, in the thin line of Rebecca’s mouth, in the pinched look around Jenny’s eyes. A vanguard company moving thirty miles a day meant no women or children. There was no question about that.
“How many are willing to go over the mountains?” Brigham called out. “How many are willing to leave your families for a time to accomplish what must be done? I would like to put it to the vote.”
For a moment nothing happened as the crowd considered what he had said. Then one by one men started raising their hands. Nathan hesitated only a moment, then raised his. He was not surprised to see Joshua, Derek, and Matthew follow suit.
“Good, good!” Brigham exclaimed. “Let me count your numbers, for I am determined to leave my family and go if I can get any volunteers to go with me.”
A few more hands lifted. There were three or four dozen hands up now.
“Wonderful, brethren. This gives me great satisfaction. I am determined that we must go.”
Though it rained again that afternoon, the showers passed quickly, and by evening, when supper was done and the babies were put to bed, the air was pleasantly cool. The Steeds gathered around their main fire, sitting on chests or lengths of log because of the wet ground. The younger children were allowed to play quietly within sight of the wagons, but the older children were considered part of the family council.
By unspoken agreement, Nathan was in charge. He called on Rachel to begin the meeting with prayer, then immediately launched the discussion when she sat down again. “You know why we’re here. Brigham wants volunteers for the vanguard company. We need to decide who of us should go.”
Caroline’s hand immediately shot up. Nathan gestured toward her. “How many?”
Nathan nodded somberly. It was the question directly on his mind as well. He looked around the circle. “That’s a critical question. What do you think?”
Rebecca looked at Derek, then half raised her hand.
“Becca?” Nathan said.
“President Young said that if a man goes west with the vanguard company, other men—probably those older or younger—would be asked to help care for the families left behind.”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean? For example, is Matthew considered a younger man?”
Savannah giggled suddenly, looking at Joshua. “Uncle Matthew’s young, but Papa’s not. He’s old. Maybe they’ll let him stay.”
“Hey!” Joshua growled, grabbing for her. She squealed and jumped away. That brought laughs from the family, but they quickly died away.
Young Joshua Steed and Luke Griffith Garrett sat next to each other. Josh was Nathan’s oldest and had turned fifteen the month before. Luke was Jessica’s stepson from her marriage with John Griffith. He would be fourteen in the fall. Along with his half sister, Rachel, he had come ahead with the family when Solomon and Jessica had stayed behind to help build Garden Grove and then Mount Pisgah. Josh straightened, looking solemn. “I’m almost sixteen now. I’m old enough to go.”
Lydia smiled sadly at her son. “Josh, you won’t be sixteen for eleven more months.” Her voice caught. “If your father goes—and I think he will—then who will take care of us?”
His shoulders slumped and he sat back.
Nathan was looking at Lydia. “You think I should go?”
She nodded, suddenly near tears.
“And Matthew too,” Jenny said, her own voice sounding strained.
There were several nods at that. Matthew Steed had been partners with Brother Brigham in a cabinetry business back in Nauvoo. Not only was there a warm affection between the two, Brigham almost treating Matthew as his own son, but Matthew was a skilled carpenter and a hard worker. Brigham had already drawn heavily upon his skills.
Now Derek spoke up. “I don’t see how we can send more than two of us. I think we have to leave two men with the family. There’s a lot to do here to get ready for winter.”
Rachel, sitting beside Emily, raised one hand.
“Yes, Rachel,” Nathan said.
“Mama and Papa should be here soon from Mount Pisgah, don’t forget that.”
Matthew jumped in. “That’s right, so that makes five adult men. I think Brigham would agree to have two of us stay.”
“Isn’t Uncle Solomon the oldest of any of you?” Josh asked.
Now Joshua spoke. “I’m thirty-nine and Solomon is two years older than me. So yes, he’s the oldest.”
Caroline took his hand. “If we left the two oldest here, then—”
Joshua was shaking his head before she could finish. Caroline looked dismayed. “What?”
“We have to make the decision based on who it is best to have go, not just by age.” There was a fleeting smile, tinged with sadness. “You know, if this had come three weeks ago, it would be a lot harder decision.”
Nathan turned to him. “How so?”
Now the smile broadened and any touch of sorrow was gone. “Because I would have had a choice then, not being a member of the Church. Now I’m under covenant. I’m here to do whatever you and Brigham ask, Nathan.” He shrugged. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
Nathan had to stop. It had come out so simply and so accepting. And this from the man who had once led the mob at Independence as they tarred and feathered the Mormons and drove them from the state.
Mary Ann stood up, eyes shining, and walked over to Joshua. She put her arms around him and held him tightly. Joshua looked surprised, then hugged her back. When she pulled away, her voice was a bare whisper. “That was for your father, Joshua. If he was here, that’s what he would have done.” She smiled through the tears. “He would be so proud of you.”
Completely taken aback by that, Joshua could only nod. “Thank you, Mama.”
Several around the fire, including Caroline, were a little teary-eyed now as well. Finally, Nathan cleared his throat. “I have a proposal. When Solomon and Jessica arrive we’ll have to talk with them about it, but I propose that we send three of us with our best wagon and team.”
“And the three are?” Derek asked slowly.
Nathan looked around, then let his breath out slowly in a long sigh. “I think that me and Matthew”—he glanced quickly at Caroline—“and Joshua should go with the vanguard company.”
Rebecca looked up. “Nathan, are you suggesting Derek stay just because of me and the children?”
His answer was immediate and firm. “No. Solomon and Derek are our best farmers. You’re going to need food to see you through the winter here. Matthew needs to go because of his skills in bridge and ferry building.” There was a moment’s hesitation, then a floppy grin. “And me? Well, Joshua and Matthew need someone to do the grunt work for them.”
Matthew laughed shortly, shaking his head. “Me and Joshua both know why Nathan needs to go, don’t we? Who else would keep us out of trouble?”
Joshua was sober. “Yes, and who else can answer all my gospel questions out there?”
The wives around the circle were nodding now, though not with any joy. Nathan looked around the circle for one last time. “Any other questions before we take a vote?”
Emily, who sat beside Rachel, tentatively raised her hand. “Papa?”
“Yes, Emmy?”
“Won’t you need some young women to go with the vanguard company and cook and wash for you? Rachel and I could do that.”
Though her mother looked startled, Nathan was not surprised. The vanguard company sounded like adventure, and Emily was never one to let an adventure pass her by. “Next season, Emmy. For now, you and Rachel will be as valuable to the family here as will Luke and Mark and Josh. But thank you for thinking about us.”
Her head bobbed. She had already known the answer, but still had to ask.
“By show of hands, how many of you accept the proposal that three of us go.”
There was only a moment’s delay, and then every person raised a hand so that Nathan could see.
For the past several days they had seen rain off and on, usually accompanied by strong, blustery winds. But this Monday morning the unsettled weather had moved east. The sky was a brilliant blue, the sun already warm upon their faces as they looked out from the wagon in which they rode. Margret Reed, Virginia, and Kathryn were seated inside one of the smaller Reed family wagons, the canvas top being rolled up partway so that they could get a better view as well as catch a breeze. Milt Elliott was walking alongside the oxen, urging them forward. Laramie River—or Laramie Fork, as many of the locals called it—was off to their right about a hundred yards. Even at that distance, they could make out the sound of birds singing lustily in the trees along the banks.
“Isn’t this a glorious morning?” Margret Reed said to no one in particular. There was an instant murmur of complete agreement from Virginia and Kathryn. Part of that gloriousness was being near a point of civilization again. It was just a point, and quite rudimentary at that, Kathryn thought, but after six weeks without seeing anything but animals and each other, Fort Laramie was indeed glorious.
Virginia Reed, who had turned thirteen years old the day before, sat between her mother and Kathryn inside the wagon. “Are you excited?” Kathryn asked her. “It’s not every girl who gets to celebrate her birthday at a place like this.” Though Virginia’s birthday was past, Mrs. Reed was determined that they would find something and buy it for her. With everything that needed attention in camp the day before, they had seen but very little of the fort itself. So even though their company had left Fort Laramie yesterday afternoon and traveled on two miles, last night Margret talked her husband into letting her take Virginia and Kathryn back to the fort early this morning. Milt Elliott volunteered to unload a few things from one of the smaller wagons to make room for the three women, then agreed to drive the wagon for them. They planned to do some quick shopping and then return to the group before it moved on.
“Oh, yes,” Virginia cried in response to Kathryn’s question. “This is so wonderful. Just look.” She waved her arm in the direction of what lay before them.
Their heads nodded. It
was
a fascinating scene, Kathryn agreed. Directly ahead of them was the fort itself. It stood all by itself on the flat plain. It was a large quadrangle, the walls of which were made of what they called “adobes,”or sun-dried bricks. It enclosed an area of about three-quarters of an acre. The walls were high and surmounted by three towers, one over the front gate, and then one each at opposite corners of the walls.
But it was the scene around that main building that was so fascinating. The grounds around the fort were teeming with activity—Indians, whites, emigrants, trappers, traders, men, women, children, horses, dogs, and an occasional milk cow all moved about with great purpose. There were wagons and tents and small willow shelters. Bull boats—round craft that were made of a framework of sticks and covered with buffalo hides and which were used to carry furs downriver—were turned upside down against one wall of the fort. It was enough to give one a stiff neck, Kathryn thought, as she tried to take it all in.
“Look,” Margret said, pointing toward the south. The night before last, as they had come in they had seen a huge assembly of Indian tepees—conical tents fifteen feet high made from long poles covered by brightly decorated animal skins. There must have been two or three hundred of them. Now they were all but gone. A few remained, and there were a few more of the skeletal frameworks, but that was all. Now, where they had been, Indian women and young girls swarmed everywhere. They were striking the camp, taking down the skins from the frameworks, bundling them quickly and neatly into piles. Then the poles came down. Horses stood patiently as men tied two of the long poles across their backs, and then the bundles of robes and personal belongings were piled upon them in what was known as the travois, which was dragged behind the horses
.
Here and there, smaller children were making miniature travois and tying them to some of the larger dogs.