Kate Mulhall A romance of the Oregon Trail
have left them;" Adam felt much the same way, but hesitating to trust
his voice, made no reply. Thus the party separated, the parents
homeward bound and the young people starting east to see more of what
was to them a new world, and possibly to have some adventures thrown
in for good measure.
Soon after the train started, the three elderly {227} people went
forward to the dining car. As the meal progressed, Kate fell into a
reminiscent mood, and looking out of the window, opened conversation
with Aunt Sarah by asking, "Don't you remember that sand-storm in
this vicinity as we passed through in 185-?"
"Indeed I do," was the prompt response, although Sarah had been at
the time a child of only seven years. "The sand blown through the
tent into the dough fairly gritted my teeth when eating the bread
made from it. We had no water in the camp that night, and slept with
dirty hands and faces; my hair, ears and eyes were filled with
sand--but let's talk of something else." By the time the first meal
was finished, they had progressed on their return journey about as
far as in a whole day on the early trip.
As night followed, and while comfortable berths were being made up
for them, Sarah--notwithstanding her admonition to "talk of something
else"--broke into oral expression of the thoughts surging through her
mind. "I guess there will be no 'ticks' in the bed to-night, as we
found them when sleeping on the ground." "Or snakes and other
creeping things," Kate added--"you of course remember the rattler,"
to which Sarah simply nodded to indicate that while she understood,
she was not disposed to pursue the subject any farther. Soon all the
three travelers fell into restful slumber and awoke, greatly
refreshed, beyond the eastern boundary of what was once known
indefinitely as the "Oregon Country," {228} out of which the present
States of the Pacific Northwest had been created within their own
recollections of it.
At breakfast the next morning, while the train was speeding by a
recognized object, Kate exclaimed, "It took us four weeks to travel
over the same ground that we have now passed through in a single
night." Strive as much as they could to banish thoughts of the
hardships encountered on the early trip, the memories of it would not
leave them. Within three days they had covered as much distance as
in the same number of months on the first overland journey.
Alighting from the automobile into which they transferred at the
station nearest their home, Pelton held open the gate for his
"sweetheart" (as he often spoke of Kate); and she paused just long
enough while passing in to say, "God bless you, Isaac; you did the
same when I first came fifty years ago." "And God bless you, Kate,"
he replied as they re-entered their happy home--lovers as in the
early days; and here we must leave them to the enjoyment of
well-spent lives.
CLOSING SCENES
Adam and Sarah continued their travels over the eastern half of the
grand old and historic route which their parents had traversed with
ox-teams more than a half century before. Then the tracks of the
Oregon Trail passed through an Indian country for more than a
thousand miles from the west bank of the {229} Missouri River, where
the last vestige of civilized life except a few widely scattered
trading posts or Government forts, were left behind. Various tribes
of red men possessed whatever claim there was to that vast region;
millions of buffalo roamed in great herds without restriction over
the Plains, while the grizzly bear was a source of danger to man and
of terror to wild beasts in the higher altitudes of the Rocky
Mountains.
From certain points of vantage deer, elk and antelope could be seen
in large numbers. Except for the wild animals, and an occasional
passing throng of emigrants, the country was a solitude, generally
considered unfit for habitation by a civilized race. But on this
motor trip the young people saw evidences of changes and developments
which their parents in the slow, westward moving column of the early
50s, would have considered beyond the range of possibilities.
Soon after leaving the Sweetwater River, traveling east, they passed
through pretentious cities and prosperous villages with church spires
and schools, trading centers, paved streets and large numbers of
comfortable residences--civilization personified in western
enterprise along or near-by the old Trail. Coal, oil, gas and other
natural resources--unknown either to the passing throng of pioneers,
or for many years afterward to the outside world--came gradually to
the knowledge of adventurers and enterprising business men who laid
the foundations for a great {230} commercial prosperity in addition
to the returns from the soil and ranges; and through subsequent
developments on a large scale have made that region a very important
national asset.
The waters of the various streams gathered, controlled and drawn upon
as needed by agriculture, wrought the great miracle of irrigation by
which land formerly believed sterile had been transformed into a
"garden spot" of the United States, many times the area of Lancaster
County, Pennsylvania, or the State of New Jersey, to both of which
that term has been generally applied. Even the rich Valley of the
Mississippi and its tributaries does not exceed in fertility that
once thought to be barren and worthless Plains, when supplied with
water and placed under scientific cultivation.
Adam and Sarah saw vast areas of grain, immense beet fields with
towering sugar factories, extensive orchards and alfalfa lands
unexcelled in the entire country. The world seemed larger and the
nation greater as our young adventurers continued along the valley of
the Platte River on an excellent modern highway of imperceptible
downgrade toward the Missouri River. Toward evening of the fifth day
after parting from their parents in the Sweetwater Valley, they
entered the suburbs of Omaha, Nebraska, and soon reached the center
of its business activities, surrounded by skyscrapers of many stories.
Sarah, who had never been in a city of that size, {231} was amazed
and thoroughly enjoyed the sights. After an evening walk through the
brilliantly lighted streets, and a couple of hours at the theatre,
both were ready to rest in the luxurious apartments of the hotel, and
slept until late the following morning. At breakfast, the question
of their future movements was discussed, for they were then at the
eastern end of the Oregon Trail[5]--or would be as soon as they
reached the great river now in sight about two miles ahead.
Adam again fell into a reminiscent mood, talking as much to himself
as to Sarah, "When grandfather passed through here half a century ago
on the way to Oregon, all on this side of the Missouri was Indian
country; there was no city--not even a cabin."
"But they didn't cross the river here," Sarah responded. "Mother
said it was several miles farther down; and I would like to see the
place where she was thrown into the water when the scow upset." "And
Ben Hardy saved her life," Adam continued, but added, "it's no use
going there; last evening a man told me that the channel of the river
is now more than a mile away from where it was when grandfather
crossed."
So they concluded to drive over the Missouri to the site of the old
Mormon camp of Kanesville, which they did on a fine modern bridge to
Council Bluffs, Iowa, occupying the location of the log cabin {232}
town that their grandparents saw. "We must stay here to-night," said
Sarah, to which Adam readily assented, though they had traveled only
four miles during the day.
A two-mile walk brought them to a short portion--then still
visible--of the trail over which their grandparents passed when
coming into Kanesville a half century before, though all vestiges of
it within the city had been eliminated. Sarah was reluctant to leave
the spot, and followed along the abandoned track as far as it could
be identified.
Talking more to herself than to Adam, Sarah said, "Oh, if grandfather
could only have come with us"--apparently forgetting that, as the
reader knows, Squire Mulhall had long since been called to his
reward; and then said, "Adam, I want to go on to the old homestead
where mother was born." To this Adam replied, "We will go there if
you want to." So they planned an early start on the morrow for the
old cabin site in Missouri.
Two days sufficed for the trip, which was part of the time over
hard-surfaced highways, and some dirt roads a little rough, but all
the way through a fine agricultural region with evidences of great
crops and abounding prosperity. As they rode along, both wondered
why their grandparents should have left such a country and traveled
two thousand miles over dusty plains and rough mountains to Oregon.
On the morning of the second day out from the "Bluffs," it became
reasonably sure that they would {233} reach the old homestead before
nightfall. Try as much as he could, Adam failed to interest Sarah in
further conversation, for she was in a mood to commune only with
herself.
"Yes, suh, I knows where the Squire's cabin stood; it's all gone now.
The well is there, but the sweep is gone too. Yes, suh, I played the
banjo at the farewell party the Squire gave before he started for
Oregon. Me? Well, they called me 'Stinson's man' then, because I
was a slave; but when Massa Lincoln made us all free, I stayed with
Massa Stinson till he died, and never took another name."
Adam had been advised that this negro, whose hair was white as snow
and who was reputed to be a hundred years of age, could show them the
old cabin site. He lived in a near-by village, was yet able to do
light chores for the white people of the neighborhood, and thus
continued to earn his own living.
"Stinson's man" was regarded the sole survivor of the old slaves of
La Fayette County; in fact no one else, white or black, could be
found who knew David Mulhall. The generation living when the Squire
left his home for Oregon had passed away, except for this aged old
negro who still enjoyed good health and played the banjo for parties,
or for his own amusement.
"Right here was the front door; I knows it for I often stepped it
from the well. Yes, the water is good yet, and there's the
fire-place."
"Here's a piece of broken plate," exclaimed Sarah, {234} as she
picked up a precious relic, which she believed had once belonged to
their grandmother.
The old barn site was located, and the barn-yard where her mother had
climbed the fence when "gentle" old Star, with the yoke on for the
first time, broke away from them and ran about with tongue out,
bellowing like a mad bull. Sarah's mother had often told the story
with a hearty laugh, which brought merriment as the incident was
recalled fifty years later, on the spot where it occurred. Adam
believed that he had located the old barbecue pit in a depression
near the spot his mother had described. Both were reluctant to leave
the grounds, and did not until approaching darkness warned them to
seek accommodations for the night.
"Adam!" "What is it, Sarah?" Adam asked, thinking that his sister
had something on her mind she hesitated to mention. Gathering
courage, she exclaimed, "Adam, I don't want to go any farther, for I
ought to be at home taking care of mother. You know as well as I do
that she is not strong as even last summer; and I should be with her."
"God bless you, my dear! We will start for home to-morrow if you say
so," he replied, throwing his arms around her and imprinting a kiss
upon her cheek in love of his sister, and of the revered parents in
the far West. So our story closes with the sacrifice of a trip they
had expected to extend to Washington City and the Atlantic Coast for