Something happened to him this time that hadn’t happened in quite the same way with the Willie group. As he looked into the starved faces of these who had been lost, he remembered that they had been living for several days on four ounces of flour per day. And again and again, thoughts of the Savior flooded into his mind. Scriptures he had read since childhood came back to him, this time with such power and intensity he could hardly stop from crying out with the discovery.
The Son of man is come to save that which was lost. What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he loses one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine and go into the wilderness to find the one that is lost?
And a woman had ten pieces of silver, and when she lost a piece, she lighted a candle and swept the house clean. And when she found it, she called her friends and neighbors together and said, “Rejoice with me, for I have found that which was lost.”
Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee. Then feed my sheep. Feed my lambs.
I am the bread of life. He that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.
It was as though someone had opened a book that he had never read before. There on every page was the love of the Master he had always known, but now he understood in a way more powerful than he had ever dreamed was possible. No wonder the Lord put His children under covenant to sacrifice whatever was required in order to go out and rescue His children that were lost. No wonder the prophets felt a sense of urgency about sending missionaries out into the world. No wonder Brigham Young chastised the Saints from time to time for turning toward the things of the world. How many of the Lord’s fold were lost in the wilderness, perishing for want of bread, slowing dying in the spiritual cold? It was all that David could do not to break down and weep.
“Thank you. You don’t know what this means to us.”
David pulled out of his thoughts and looked at the young woman in front of him. She was young, maybe a little younger than his sister. Eleanor was almost eighteen now. David had just put a full scoop of flour in her kettle and was handing her an onion. Stephen Taylor had already put three potatoes in her pot. “You’re welcome,” he said, sorry that he had gotten carried away in his thoughts. “We are so glad that we have found you at last.”
She nodded and stepped back to wait. The next person was also a young woman, of about the same age as the first but with light blond hair showing from beneath her winter bonnet. Her eyes were of a startling blue. “Here you go,” he said, handing her a large onion, then scooping up another pound of flour.
But she had nothing in which to put it. The first girl stepped forward and held out her kettle. “We are together,” the blond girl said in explanation. She pronounced the “we” as “vee.”
David nodded and poured the flour in with the first portion. Stephen gave them three additional potatoes. As he did so, David looked at the first girl more closely. These two definitely did not look like sisters. This girl’s hair was darker, not black but a light brown. Her eyes were wide set and green. And yet . . .
“Do I know you?” he began, then shook his head, realizing how foolish that sounded. “You look somewhat familiar to me.”
Surprised, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Beside him, he heard Stephen Taylor snigger softly and give him a look of disbelief.
Embarrassed, he stepped back again. “Sorry.” But he was still looking at her closely, trying to shake off the feeling that somehow they had met before.
“Thank you again. You are very kind.”
He snapped his fingers. The voice did it. “You’re from Scotland?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes.”
He turned, pointing to the one with blond hair and the Scandinavian accent. “Then you’re Ingrid,” he said, almost blurting it out.
Ingrid Christensen was shocked. “Yes, I—”
“And you have to be Hannah.”
Both of the girls stared at each other for a moment, and then Hannah turned back to David. “Do we know you?”
He laughed aloud. “That’s why you looked familiar. You look like your sister.”
“Maggie?” she cried. “You know Maggie?”
David turned to his companion, laughing openly now. “Stephen, can you handle this for a minute?” he said.
His fellow rescuer gave him a strange look, but then nodded. “Sure. We’re almost done anyway.”
David dropped the scoop in the flour sack and moved over to join the two girls. He took the kettle from Hannah’s hands. She barely knew it. She was staring at him in astonishment. “How do you—” Then her eyes flew wide open. “You saw her?”
“Yes. At Sixth Crossing. I was there when we found the Willie Company.”
Tears sprang to Hannah’s eyes. David had started to walk, but he had to stop again. Hannah was rooted to the spot.
“And she’s all right?” she whispered, her voice strained with emotion.
“Yes. She was when I saw her. And your mother and brother too.”
A sob was wrenched from somewhere down deep inside her. “Thanks be to God. I’ve been so worried.”
“And they’re worried about the two of you.”
“Eric and Olaf?” Ingrid said, finally recovering from the shock a little. “Were they all right?”
“Yes. I met them both.”
He turned to Hannah. She was struggling to speak through the tears. “Mama? Robbie? You’re sure they are all right?”
“Yes.” He grinned now. This was an unexpected surprise. He had planned to go around the camp and locate these two after things settled down a little. “Maggie wanted me to bring you two some news.”
“What?” They spoke as one.
“She and Eric are engaged to be married.”
There was a squeal of delight. Hannah gaped at him for a moment, then swung around to Ingrid. With a shout that turned the heads of others around them, Ingrid cried, “I told you! I told you!”
David watched them, thrilled that it was his privilege to bring something into their lives at this point that could make them shout for joy. Then finally, Hannah remembered that he was still with them. “Thank you. This is the most wonderful thing that could have happened. To know that they are all right and that Maggie and Eric . . .” She couldn’t finish and had to look away.
“Maggie also asked me to bring you something, Hannah,” he said, less sure of himself now.
Her head came up. “What?”
He hesitated.
“What? What is it?”
Solemnly he set the kettle down in the snow; then, catching her totally by surprise, he took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. When he stepped back, he was blushing and so was Hannah. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but she made me promise to do that.”
The tears spilled over again. Hannah reached up with the back of her hand and wiped at one cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Chapter Notes
The journal entries and histories describing the arrival of the express party from Devil’s Gate are too numerous and extensive to include, but the details given here, including the woman who first saw them and her reaction and Joseph Young’s response, are drawn from those accounts. Three brief samples will serve to illustrate how those three brethren were received.
John Jaques wrote: “The 28th of October was the red letter day to this handcart expedition. On that memorable day Joseph A. Young, Daniel W. Jones and Abel Garr galloped unexpectedly into camp amid the cheers and tears and smiles and laughter of the emigrants. Those three men being the most advanced relief company from Salt Lake, brought the glad word that assistance, provisions, and clothing were near, that ten [some say it was eight] wagons were waiting at Devil’s Gate for the emigrants. . . . All was now animation and bustle in the handcart camp, everybody was busy at once in making preparations for a renewed start in the morning. The revived spirits of the company were still exhilarated by an increased ration of flour that day?
?? (in Bell, Life History and Writings of John Jaques, pp. 148–49; also in Remember, pp. 23–24).
Patience Loader, Jaques’s sister-in-law, added these details:
[Brother Joseph Young] told Captain Martin if he had flour enough to give us all one pound of flour each and said if there were any cattle to kill, to give us one pound of beef each, saying there were plenty of provisions and clothing coming for us on the road, but tomorrow we must make a move from here. He said we would have to travel twenty-five miles then there would be plenty of provisions and there would be good brethren to help us, that they had come with good teams and covered wagons so the sick could ride. Then he said he would have to leave us. He would like to have traveled with us the next morning, but we must cheer up and God would bless us and give us strength. He said, “We have made a trail for you to follow.” . . .
After the brethren had left us, we felt quite encouraged and we got our flour and beef before night came on and we were all busy cooking and we felt to thank God and our kind brethren that had come to help us in our great distress and misery for we were suffering greatly with cold and hunger. When night came we went to bed. We slept pretty comfortably more so than we had done for some time. We felt assured. (In Remember, p. 24)
Brother Daniel W. Jones, one of the three express riders, wrote: “This [Martin] company was in almost as bad a condition as the first one [i.e., the Willie Company]. They had nearly given up hope. Their provisions were about exhausted and many of them worn out and sick. When we rode in, there was a general rush to shake hands. I took no part in the ceremony. Many declared we were angels from heaven. I told them I thought we were better than angels for this occasion, as we were good strong men come to help them into the valley, and that our company, and wagons loaded with provisions, were not far away” (Forty Years, p. 66).
The express party returned to Devil’s Gate about seven p.m. on the night of 30 October. The details of Joseph A. Young’s report to Captain Grant are drawn from a speech he gave at the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City on 16 November. After the Martin Company was found, Brother Grant sent Joseph Young and Abel Garr to Salt Lake to report to President Young on the rescue efforts (see Hafen and Hafen, Handcarts to Zion, pp. 230–31; also Remember, p. 53).
There is a stretch along the trail around Prospect Hill that is known for what is called bentonite mud. This is a clay that has the capacity to absorb a great deal of water, and when it does it expands to several times its normal volume. It is used in oil drilling and other industrial applications. After having driven that stretch following a heavy rain, the author had to spend over an hour with a high-pressure sprayer to clean that mud off from beneath his vehicle.
Greasewood Creek (now called Horse Creek) is located about eleven miles northeast of Independence Rock and about sixteen miles from Devil’s Gate. It was here, about sundown on the last day of October, that Captain George D. Grant finally met the last company of handcarts. The Hodgett Wagon Company was a short distance behind the handcarts at that time, and the Hunt Company was another day or two back from that, having started later from the last crossing of the North Platte.
As noted, Captain Grant wrote a report on his company’s success and sent it by express back to Brigham Young in Salt Lake City. In that report he wrote:
Not having much feed for our horses they were running down very fast, and not hearing anything from the companies, I did not know but what they had taken up quarters for the winter, consequently we sent on another express to the Platte bridge. When that express returned, to my surprise I learned that the companies [the Martin Handcart Company and the Hunt and Hodgett Wagon Companies] were all on the Platte river, near the upper crossing, and had been encamped there nine days, waiting for the snow to go away, or, as they said, to recruit their cattle.
As quick as we learned this, we moved on to meet them. Met br. Martin’s company at Greasewood creek, on the last day of October; br. Hodgett’s company was a few miles behind. We dealt out to br. Martin’s company the clothing, &c., that we had for them; and next morning, after stowing our wagons full of the sick, the children and the infirm, with a good amount of luggage, started homeward about noon. The snow began to fall very fast, and continued until late at night. It is now about 8 inches deep here, and the weather is very cold.
. . . You can imagine between five and six hundred men, women and children, worn down by drawing hand carts through snow and mud; fainting by the wayside; falling, chilled by the cold; children crying, their limbs stiffened by cold, their feet bleeding and some of them bare to snow and frost. The sight is almost too much for the stoutest of us; but we go on doing all we can, not doubting nor despairing.
Our company is too small to help much, it is only a drop to a bucket, as it were, in comparison to what is needed. I think that not over one-third of br. Martin’s company is able to walk. This you may think is extravagant, but it is nevertheless true. Some of them have good courage and are in good spirits; but a great many are like children and do not help themselves much more, nor realize what is before them. (In Hafen and Hafen, Handcarts to Zion, pp. 227–28)
Chapter 30
Greasewood Creek to Devil’s Gate
Saturday, 1 November 1856
The James G. Willie Handcart Company left their camp at Rock Creek on October twenty-fifth. They left fifteen people behind them; thirteen of those were buried in a mass grave, and two who had helped dig that grave had to be buried in additional graves of their own. Even with the wagons from the Valley that Reddick Allred had brought from where he was waiting at South Pass, there was barely enough to carry the sick, so once again the emigrants picked up the shafts of their carts and started west.
Being back not only on full rations but having a varied diet—onions, fattened beef, sugar, rice, dried fruit, potatoes—and having far more adequate clothing made a significant difference, but death still exacted its toll as they rolled along. Two died the next day as they crossed South Pass and followed down Pacific Creek. Two more in Eric’s hundred died the day they crossed the Big Sandy, thirty-five miles west of South Pass, and two more from England passed away as they reached the Green River, an additional day’s journey beyond that.
But it was becoming evident that the full diet and better protection from the elements were having an effect. To Eric’s immense relief, day by day Maggie’s cough lessened. By the time they reached the Big Sandy, she was back to pulling the cart throughout the full day and would not hear of anyone trying to make her do any less than that. Sarah and Emma James were now able to pull their remaining cart completely alone and leave their mother to care for the younger children. Reuben James, his feet badly frostbitten, was still too crippled to walk and rode in one of the wagons. Jen Nielson, in a similar condition, did the same.
The last day of October proved to be a momentous one. Shortly after leaving their camp on the Green River, they met ten wagons coming east—seven from the Valley and three from Fort Supply south of Fort Bridger. That ended any fears that they might run out of food again and have to go to reduced rations. It also meant there were more wagons in which to put baggage and people. A quick survey was made and several of the most unreliable of the handcarts were abandoned. Even if there wasn’t room in the wagons for everyone, walking alongside was a tremendous improvement over having to pull a loaded cart.
The following day another group of wagons from Salt Lake met them on the trail. As important as their presence was, even more significant was the news they brought. They were only the first of literally dozens and dozens of wagons coming east. As they met these welcome messengers, William H. Kimball again stopped the train and ordered more of the handcart loads to be transferred to the wagons.
•••
The Willie Company and their rescuers stopped near the top of a gentle rise in the trail to make the transfer. It was a long ridge that was steep in many places, but here there was a gentle swale through which the trail passed. Maggie and Eric sat in the snow beside their cart, waiti
ng for the decisions to be made on whose carts would be abandoned. Sister McKensie and Robbie sat against the other wheel. Just ahead of them, Sister Jane James and her children waited in like manner.
Brother Kimball and Captain Willie moved slowly along the line. Maggie noted that their captain was limping a little. In all of the concern for those who had died coming up over Rocky Ridge, few had noticed that Captain Willie’s feet had been seriously frostbitten too. At Brother Kimball’s insistence, he was riding much of the time, so it surprised Maggie to see him on his feet now.
Eric looked up as the two men approached. “Want to buy a cart cheap?” he drawled lazily.
Brother Kimball smiled. Then to their surprise he walked around their cart, looking at it closely as he did so. He even bent down and looked beneath it. Then he rattled each of the wheels. Finally he looked down at Eric. “Sorry, Brother Pederson. I don’t think you’re going to get much for this one.”
Eric sighed. “Well, perhaps in Great Salt Lake City.”
“Sorry,” Brother Kimball said again, now smiling. “But this one isn’t going to Salt Lake.”
That brought all of their heads up in surprise.
“Yep. This one is one of the worst. Let’s get it unloaded and leave it behind.”
Maggie looked up. “We’re just going to leave it here?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want it for firewood?”