Kate Mulhall A romance of the Oregon Trail
cordial greetings that followed from all the household heartened Ben;
no one seemed to notice his clothes--it was Ben, though greatly
changed, they saw and welcomed.
There was one of the household who in her heart could not
rejoice--not that mother Shaeffer thought Ben unworthy of Linda; but
the realization that the daughter she loved so intensely would be
taken from {162} her, possibly meet a tragic fate at the hands of the
Indians, and certainly encounter the other hazards of a trip to
Oregon, overwhelmed her. Conscious that she might be unable to
compose herself and control her emotions, the good lady withdrew as
quietly as possible to her own chamber, where she gave way to grief
that could no longer be restrained.
Mothers who have had similar experiences of impending separation from
beloved and loving daughters will sympathize with Mrs. Shaeffer; such
is life and the story of each generation! We know that joy in a
steady, overflowing stream often follows grief, which becomes less
poignant with the lapse of time.
As she left the room, Ben caught the expression of distress in Mrs.
Shaeffer's countenance. Could it be possible that Linda's mother was
opposed to their marriage? The very thought disturbed and perplexed
Ben. He did not stay late, though long enough to disclose his plans
for the trip, taking particular care to tell Linda of its
difficulties and dangers. Linda firmly responded, "I am going with
you, Ben;" and with the echo of it in his ears, he rode back to his
mother's home with a light heart, for the moment forgetting the grave
responsibility now resting upon his shoulders.
With only a small amount left from the current funds provided for the
expenses of the trip, the first urgent business was to secure enough
money to purchase an outfit and allow for the expenditures and {163}
any emergencies on the way. Ben had learned by experience that the
popular fallacy, shared by so many, that currency was not needed on
the Trail, was unfounded; and knew to the contrary. The funds upon
which he depended were in three banks of three different counties;
and one of them had suspended payment upon large deposits.
A period of great financial depression had recently swept over the
country. Crops were abundant, but the few existing markets were at
considerable distances, and transportation facilities were entirely
inadequate to move even the portions that could be sold. No
railroads had yet been constructed in Missouri, and it was also
before there were a sufficient number of steamers to serve the needs
of the narrow margin of settlements bordering on the two principal
rivers.
The whole region was without improved roads, but had a superabundance
of products that could not be either consumed or sold at a profit. A
wagon-load of corn would hardly bring enough to buy a pair of boots;
a fat two-hundred pound hog could not be traded for a lady's dress,
or five bushels of corn for a pound of tea or coffee.
Such were the conditions confronting Ben in providing funds for the
purchase of an outfit, with the possibility of not being able to do
so at all. Luckily, he had some certificates of small amounts which
he turned over to father Shaeffer, and thus avoided direct dealing
with the banks.
{164}
The political turmoil which a few years later brought on the Civil
War then scourged the country, and added to the distress of
commercial depression; in fact, was considered by many the greater of
the two evils. Advocates of slavery were becoming more and more
aggressive, while the Free-Soil element grew more firm. The
approaching conflict of arms led many to emigrate as the best way of
escaping from the public and private agitation.
As soon as it became known that Benjamin Hardy had arrived direct
from Oregon, and was intending to outfit an expedition to return over
the Trail the following summer, he was besieged by numerous parties
desiring to join with him, and by a much greater throng seeking
information. They came two, five or even ten together, and finally a
delegation of forty from an adjoining county to discuss the trip and
country with him. Some offered to form a new company under his
leadership for the land of mild climate and great opportunities.
Those importuning strangers became a great burden to Ben, and much of
his time was taken in imparting information, or declining offers to
join his prospective trip. To all he expressed the intention of
going with only two wagons, or three at the most, and not more than
eight of his friends; but gave a truthful report of the dangers and
privations of the Trail, and a good description of the Oregon
Country. Father Shaeffer's farm was better equipped for assembling
an outfit than his mother's; besides the {165} "Shaeffer boys"--all
stalwarts--were eager to help him train the teams, and another one
for Linda's two brothers who had determined to return with Ben to
Oregon. At first he had no other thought than to assemble the outfit
and train the teams at his mother's home, for he desired to be with
her as much as possible while preparing for the trip.
At the same time, Ben could but acknowledge to himself that he wanted
to be near Linda; so arrangements were made for his mother to drive
over every day to help Mrs. Shaeffer prepare for the wedding and make
clothing for the young couple. A part of the cloth was to be woven
on mother Shaeffer's loom by Mrs. Hardy.
* * * * * * * * *
The wedding was a very quiet affair, with only the Shaeffer family,
Ben's mother and family, and a very few friends to witness it. Linda
was dressed in a frock of her own make; she had woven the cloth for
the very occasion while Ben was more than two thousand miles away,
but with an abiding faith that the time would come for her to wear it.
Ben was dressed in a suit Mrs. Hardy made out of "boughten store
cloth," as she described the material; while not a "tailor fit," the
mother was proud of it, and all agreed that she did very well. At
that time the women not only made their own dresses but also the
clothes of the men folks; so it was nothing out of the ordinary for
mother Hardy to make Ben's wedding suit.
{166}
The "boys" all wanted to invite the young folks of the neighborhood
and "have a good time," but mother Shaeffer pleaded for a quiet
wedding; and in deference to her wishes, all of them gave up the
thought. To her the marriage was a solemn occasion, and she could
scarcely restrain the tears while preparations were being made for
it. Ben had come to know the real reason and deeply sympathized with
her; he felt almost a twinge of conscience for taking the dutiful
daughter from the companionship of a loving mother.
Mrs. Shaeffer had great respect for Ben, believed him worthy of her
confidence and a suitable husband for her daughter; but she wanted
Linda to herself. In calmer moments she realized the selfishness of
such an attitude, and how it might affect Linda's later life to
remain with her; but the premonition that something dreadful would
happen on the trip could not be dispelled. Ben was not free from the
thought that disaster might overtake them on the long journey--little
dreaming of the source from which it would come, a peril not
encountered in his former trip with Squire Mulhall.
April, the time set long in advance for their departure, was near at
hand; the teams and outfits had already been purchased, the animals
were thoroughly reliable and well trained, and everything was about
ready for the start to the far West. Robert and Abraham Shaeffer had
also provided themselves with a team and outfit, and were equally
well prepared; {167} two independent outfits satisfactory to Ben with
four stalwart and reliable men, were in readiness making ten
trustworthy adults in the party. There were also three women and
four children, with Andrew, Jennie and their little girl Margie--in
all twenty persons, five ox-teams, one horse-team and a matched-mule
team for Andrew.
But the banks had not yet responded to the extent of the full amount
needed to defray the expense of outfitting, and enough to provide for
necessary supplies and incidental expenses on the road. It seemed as
if they might be held back at the last minute by the difficulties of
securing the necessary funds.
When all the other arrangements had been completed, Ben and father
Shaeffer rode over to the nearest bank; with a determined expression
of countenance, fire in their eyes and resolute tongues, they soon
convinced the cashier that the money should be furnished to Ben as a
matter of right. Thereupon sufficient for all anticipated needs was
handed to him, and that part of the problem solved.
Ben had secured a light wagon, with half-springs under the bed to
shelter Linda night and day, and also himself when not called
elsewhere during the day, or kept out on watch at night. He had
planned to take a full share of the duties and responsibilities of
the trip, no matter how arduous or fatiguing they might be.
Andrew, Jennie and Margie were ready when Ben and Linda arrived. Eli
Sumner, the elderly {168} Quaker in whose care Pelton had left his
former slaves, provided a span of matched tan-colored mules and a
complete outfit for them. All three took an affectionate farewell of
their benefactor, for Sumner had been kind to them--just as good as
"massa," Andrew said; and could not restrain tears of gratitude with
the last shake of the hand.
The ox-teams had been sent several days ahead to the Missouri River
crossing, where Ben was to join them with Andrew, Jennie and Margie.
A great surprise was in store for Ben upon arrival; all the teams of
his party were awaiting him, but the great throng seen there on his
first trip was conspicuously absent. Instead of five hundred or more
wagons on the former occasion, there were now not more than fifty
besides his own little party.
In striking contrast to the pressure of two years before at the ferry
landing, where a long line of emigrants waited their turn to be
carried over, now all were easily crossed about as they arrived.
Stirring memories of his adventure on the previous trip came vividly
to mind. The sand-bar where the wagon-box had grounded with Kate
Mulhall in water waist deep, was there; likewise the little island in
front of the ferry landing where the scow upset, though since
partially worn away by the swirling current of the great river.
Grass was abundant near-by the camp site, instead of being cropped
close as he had seen it the first time. Profiting by Mulhall's
experience with the {169} horse team, Ben determined to provide grain
to last his horses and mules a long way out on the Trail. First he
planned to take another wagon and abandon it when unloaded, thus
strengthening his teams with the extra oxen, but under the
circumstances, he concluded it would be practicable for teams to make
the return trip; so two wagons were secured and loaded with grain.
When fully prepared the crossing was safely made, and the great trip
across the plains started on April 18, 185-, about three weeks
earlier in the season than the previous one. The absence of Indians
was at once noticed by Ben, who caught sight of a few in the distance
the second day out; but they did not come anywhere near the train.
At the crossing of the second river on the fifth day, some of their
tepees were found on both sides of the Trail, and one directly across
it at the usual landing place.
There were a dozen or more lodges with altogether probably fifty
Indians, of which about twenty were men. Ben interpreted their
obstruction of the Trail as a sign of hostile intent; and after
selecting a suitable place for defense in case of attack, he at once
gathered all of his people into camp. The wagons formed a corral,