Chapter 41
The men of the Pioneer Company began the task of crossing the river at four a.m. on Monday morning. Since the Steeds had women and children with them, Derek stayed behind to help the family with a fire and breakfast. Matthew and Nathan went to the river where the first division of the company was to meet. They were not surprised to see that Brigham Young already had one of his wagons there and was unloading it.
Even as they set to work transferring the President’s goods to the Revenue Cutter, more wagons got into line. Two of these also belonged to Brigham; others were from Heber C. Kimball’s second division. They formed a “bucket brigade,” and the goods were handed from man to man, quickly filling the cutter to its capacity. It could hold from fifteen to eighteen hundred pounds, which was about the equivalent of a fully loaded wagon. For the first trip they left enough room to take three other men across in addition to the rower. They would serve as the unloading crew on the other side. They also carried a coil of rope which they strung out as they went across. This would be tied to the raft to help pull it across the current.
As the boat pushed off, Brigham turned to the men. “Let’s have some from the second division unload the wagons,” he said. “The rest of you come help with the raft.”
The raft Howard Egan and his team had hastily built the day before was just a rod or so from where the unloading was taking place. It was not surprising that the raft was fairly crude—two logs set about eight feet apart, then a base of thick branches lashed onto them to serve as a platform. Working quickly in the lightening darkness, they pushed the raft into the water, unhitched the team from the now unloaded wagon, and rolled it onto the raft. To be sure it didn’t roll off during the crossing, the wagon had to be secured with ropes. The only way to do that was to take them from the wagon and tie them to the two base logs. But that could only be done if someone was in the water, so Nathan took one side and Matthew the other.
“Whoo-ee!” Matthew exclaimed as the icy water embraced his legs. “Now, there’s how to wake up in a hurry.” Gasping, he moved to the far end of the raft. The water was now up to his waist. Nathan was taking quick in-and-out breaths as he waded out on the other side.
“Here, let me give you a hand.”
Matthew was not at all surprised to see that it was Brigham Young who waded in beside him. Brigham was not one to expect others to do what he wasn’t willing to do himself. On the far side, Heber Kimball went in to help Nathan. That was no surprise either.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you something, Brother Steed,” Brigham said as the man above handed them the end of a rope and they started to secure it.
Matthew snatched it, fed it through one of the cracks between the poles, then sunk down to his neck in order to reach under the log and grab the end of it. As he came up, gasping for breath, Brigham took the rope and cinched it tight. “What is that, Brother Brigham?” Matthew said between clenched teeth.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your personal hygiene. I think it’s time you took a bath.”
“Thank you,” Matthew said as they tied the knot and then tested it to make sure it was taut. His teeth were rattling like musket fire now. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Brigham laughed as they moved to the back of the raft and secured the second rope. In a moment, with help from those on shore, they shoved the raft into the river. The two men riding with the wagon had long poles and began to push the raft into the current. On the far side two more men began hauling on the rope to help bring it across.
After two hours’ work, it became painfully clear that this wasn’t going to do. The transfer of the goods was going well. Using the Revenue Cutter, the goods from the wagons were being moved across the river in good time. But the rafting was terribly slow. The current was just too powerful. They took a second rope across to use for pulling the raft over, but even then, once the current caught the raft, it was like trying to hold in a team of runaway mules. They had to either let the current take it or risk breaking the ropes. When they finally got a wagon across, they were generally a quarter to a half mile downriver from where they started. Then once they got that wagon off, they had to manhandle the raft back upstream far enough that they could send it back across, again angling with the current so that it would reach the loading point on the south bank. That took just over an hour per wagon.
Shortly after eight o’clock Brigham called for a halt. Most of the men were soaked to their necks, and though the sun had come out, they were still deeply chilled. “Any suggestions, brethren?” he asked. “This clearly is not the answer. We’ll be five or six days at this rate.”
Zebedee Coltrin, who was in Stephen Goddard’s company of ten, raised his hand. “We’ve got the poles now. Let’s try lashing two wagons together with the poles for floats, then raft them across.”
John Pack, who was in Nathan’s company, spoke up. “My wagon’s got some iron in it—tools and sheet iron for blacksmithing. We didn’t want to risk poking a hole in the cutter by taking it across that way. But the weight might serve as ballast and hold the wagon from rolling too easily.”
Brigham nodded. “It’s worth a try. Bring your wagon beside this one here.”
They worked swiftly, securing four of the long poles to the two wagons—one on the outside of each, and two together between them. Back into the water Nathan and Matthew went, helping guide the wagons as other men pushed them far enough out into the river that they began to float.
For a time it looked like Coltrin’s idea was going to work. The two wagons drifted quickly downstream but the men with the ropes pulled the wagons steadily across toward them. Then, just as they reached the opposite bank, the front wheels struck the river bottom and stopped short. Unfortunately the backs of the two wagons were still in the full current. There was a sharp crack as the river took the wagons. Ropes began to pop and the two inside poles snapped like twigs. As the men watched in horror, the river lifted the first wagon and rolled it onto the second, snapping the bows and dumping all of John Pack’s iron into the river.
“All right,” Brigham said grimly, “let’s see if this is any better.”
The men in the river came out, hugging themselves to get warm, as the men on shore pushed the wagons farther into the water.
This time they had four wagons lashed together, hoping that the broader base would prove more stable. It was almost noon now, and they still had only five or six wagons on the north side. To their dismay, a stiff breeze had sprung up, blowing directly from the southwest. With their high canvas covers, the wagons were just like sailboats. Between the current and the wind, the men lost what little control they had.
Halfway across, the upstream wagon started to roll. It was as if there were no ropes, no poles, no other wagons. It simply lifted up, like a child climbing out of a washtub without permission. The bows started to snap, sounding like pistol shots, and then the wagon rolled onto its side, two wheels twisting slowly above the water. With six men pulling on the ropes from the far side, they finally dragged the four wagons up onto the far bank. Two of the wagons were damaged—not terribly, but sufficient that the idea of lashing four wagons together was abandoned.
“All right,” Howard Egan said. “The problem is, the wagons are empty. There’s no weight to hold them down.”
Matthew thought about reminding him of the iron and tools in one of those they had sent across, but said nothing.
“Let’s take only one wagon but send a man with it. He can stand on the one side and let his weight keep it from rolling.”
Brigham pursed his lips thoughtfully as he considered that. Several were shaking their heads, but they were running out of options. “All right,” he finally said. “You want to try it?”
“Yes.”
They rolled Egan’s wagon down to the river, secured the ropes from the far side, removed the wagon tongue, then pushed the wagon into the water. Egan stood on the wagon seat, steadying himself by holding on to the front bow. As the wagon reached the depth where the wagon box began to float, Egan grinned jauntily. “Okay, let her rip.”
Brigham was shaking his head. “Be careful, Howard.”
Matthew didn’t like what he saw either. The wind was blowing strongly now and whipping at the canvas. With a quick movement, he ripped off his shirt and plunged into the water. “I’ll go with you,” he shouted, reaching out and grabbing the edge of the tailgate with one hand. He tossed his dripping shirt into the wagon, then got a firm grip on the tailgate with both hands, edging to the side where the current struck it to add his weight to Egan’s. At its deepest point, the channel was about six feet deep. Supposedly, except in a spot or two, a man could touch bottom most of the way across. But in this current, that didn’t mean a lot, so Matthew simply floated, letting the wagon pull him across.
When the current took them, the back end of the wagon began to swing around. “Pull! Pull!” Egan shouted to the men with the ropes on the far side.
“Tell them to keep the nose into the current,” Matthew called. “If the current takes her broadside, she’ll roll.” The wagon bed was already starting to tip ominously.
But Howard Egan was too occupied to be telling anyone anything. As he felt the wagon bed lifted by the current, he moved to the far left of the wagon seat, standing up now and balancing himself by grasping the front bow through the canvas. “I’ve got it!” he shouted.
For a moment Matthew thought his weight would do it, but as he lifted his head to see better, he saw water squirting into the wagon box through cracks between the planks. The water was already four or five inches deep and rising quickly. Matthew could feel the wagon settling deeper into the river. “The box is filling up, Howard,” he shouted. “We can’t hold it.”
There was a momentary glimpse of Egan’s head as he leaned down and peered into the wagon; then through the canvas Matthew saw his shadow moving upward. Egan climbed onto the edge of the box itself, moving back toward the center of the wagon. The shadow spread-eagled, as though Egan would hold the wagon down by sheer force of will.
Matthew pulled himself to that same side of the wagon box, hoisting himself up half out of the water, trying to hold it down. But the river and the wind both had it now, and the two men were no match for them. The box tipped sharply, dropping the right side, the side away from the current, low enough that it plunged below the water’s surface. Water gushed in, and in an instant the box was totally filled with muddy water.
“Jump, Howard!” Matthew screamed as he pushed away before the wagon took him down with it. He was stunned by the power of the current against his body and began to stroke hard to combat it. He turned his head in time to watch the wagon slowly start to roll completely over. Dimly he was aware of the shouts of the men on the shore, but they were as helpless as Matthew was. Howard Egan leaped out and away, but at that same moment the wagon jerked sharply and the front wheel shot up out of the water. Egan’s foot slipped as he pushed off, arms flailing. He bounced off the wheel with a sharp cry, then hit the water with a huge splash.
“Howard!” Kicking hard, Matthew swam toward the spot where Egan had gone under. He swung away as a wagon wheel suddenly rose out of the water right beside him. The wagon was still rolling and was completely upside down now. As Matthew looked around frantically, Howard Egan’s head suddenly shot out of the water. He was spluttering and gasping as he wiped at his eyes. He saw Matthew immediately. “I’m all right! I’m all right!” he cried. “I hit my leg on the wheel, but I’m all right.”
Matthew came up beside him and grabbed a handful of shirt. They both began to swim for the far shore, angling farther downstream than where several men, including Nathan, were running hard trying to catch up with them. They let the current work for them, angling across it toward a spot where the bank was fairly low. When they reached shallow water, they dragged themselves to the bank. Matthew saw that Howard limped heavily as he tried to stand. They bent over, chests heaving, sucking in huge gulps of air. Matthew turned to look at Egan. “I don’t think this old river likes us much,” he gasped between breaths. “Not one little bit.”
“Savannah?”
A head of dark red hair poked through the door. “Yes, Mama?”
“You know the plaque that was on our piano that Papa brought back from Nauvoo? Have you seen it?”
“It’s in the trunk, Mama. Remember? I helped you pack it.”
Caroline threw up her hands in despair. “Oh, that’s right. Thanks, dear.”
“You’re welcome, Mama.”
“Are your father and Solomon back yet with the teams?”
“Yes, Mama. Our team is already harnessed. Now they’re hitching up the oxen. They’re just about ready.”
“Oh, dear. I’m not nearly ready. What about Mother Steed? Does she have all of her stuff out yet? You and Charles help her get all her things into the wagon.”
At that, Savannah came through the door and into the sod hut. She was giving her mother a reproachful look, which nearly made Caroline smile. Savannah had turned ten in March, and in the last few months her hair was starting to darken. Instead of the more startling red that it had once been, it was turning auburn, much like Caroline’s. It was going to be her finest feature, Caroline suspected. Savannah had also started to shoot up these past few months. She was now up to Caroline’s chin. In another year or two she would pass her in height. With these changes, something even more welcome had happened. She and Savannah had become the best of friends. The relationship Caroline had once had with Olivia was again developing between her and Savannah. Savannah might be only ten, but she was two or three years beyond that in maturity and a wonderful companion for her mother.
“Grandma’s all packed, Mama,” Savannah said patiently. “Jessica and Solomon are all packed. Jenny is bringing out two more boxes and then she says she’s done. Carl’s got his team already harnessed and all of their family is already out there.” She hesitated for a moment. “What’s left for us, Mama?” she asked gently. “I thought we were ready too.”