“So are we just waiting here?” Jonah asked.
“That’s what Crockett says.”
And for the next few days, they remained in camp on the little creek, waiting for Drew and Richardson to return or for the wagons to arrive. There was little for the packers to do. Joel took the boys hunting one day, and they shot a deer, which made them heroes with the rest of the packers who feasted with them on venison. Another day the boys lazed fishing in the creek, which teemed with salmon and trout. That night, too, they skipped the quartermaster’s rations.
July 6, 1864. Still on the creek. Caught more trout. Army life is a lot of waiting. At least we aren’t loading our mules.
On July 7, Drew and his scouts returned to camp. Following the colonel’s return, Sergeant Geisy ordered the packers to be ready to move the next morning. “Cap’n Kelly says we’ll rendezvous with the wagon trains on the south fork of the Sprague,” he told them.
The next day, Will and the others loaded their mules and followed the cavalry through the Sprague Valley. When they found the Richardson wagons, the expedition’s officers talked with the wagon company’s leaders, leaving the rest of the men to entertain themselves.
Joel told the boys to stay close to their mules. “We won’t unload ’em till we’re told to,” he said. “Ain’t no tellin’ what we’re doin’ next.”
That made sense to Will, who didn’t want to lift the heavy packs any more often than he needed to.
“Make camp here,” Geisy finally ordered them.
Will saw Captain Kelly leaving camp and riding back along the route they’d traveled earlier in the day. “Where’s Kelly going?” he asked.
Joel shrugged.
They later learned Captain Kelly had returned to Fort Klamath to report on the status of the Richardson wagons and the details of the Indian attack. Meanwhile, Drew and the rest of the expedition would escort the wagons to Fort Boise.
Will was sorry to see Captain Kelly leave the expedition. That night he wrote:
July 8, 1864. Rode twelve miles to meet the wagons. Camped on South Fork of Sprague. Captain Kelly returned to Ft. Klamath. Should I have asked to go with him? Mule-packing is not how I want to spend my life. But what would I do back home?
The cavalry spent Saturday helping the emigrants repair their wagons. Will and Jonah aided the settlers as well, but Joel declined. “I got guard duty,” he said. “Then I aim to take a nap.”
Will helped the emigrants sew patches on wagon covers, repair wheels and axles, and make new handles for axes and hammers. As he worked with the travelers, he learned about the Indian assault on the wagon train.
“We was near Silver Lake,” one man said. “Headed toward John Day from Yreka when the savages attacked. We thought they was Klamaths or Modocs, but couldn’t be sure. Two of our men got shot. Indians stole some cattle and threw all our flour in the dirt. We couldn’t salvage none of it.”
He spat on the ground, then continued. “We come across another train, Allen’s group, headin’ from Jacksonville. We decided to stay together for safety, and we all backtracked to the John Day ford on the Sprague. That’s when Richardson set out to get help and found your militia unit.”
“What’s Colonel Drew doin’ now?” Jonah asked the man. He nodded toward Drew and Richardson talking outside the colonel’s tent.
The settler shrugged. “Your colonel believes our attackers were Klamaths. But Richardson don’t think so. And Drew’s scout Moshenkosket don’t think so neither. Moshenkosket is Shoshoni. His band rides with a mix of Shoshoni and Klamaths, and they’d know if Klamaths went after us. So that’s where Drew and the scouts went—to inspect the Klamath camp.”
“What’d they find?” Will asked.
“Richardson didn’t recognize any of the Indians in the camp as those what attacked us. Moshenkosket said it ’tweren’t them. So now they think we was attacked by a band of Paiutes. The Paiutes are wicked. We was lucky only two died if it was Paiutes.”
Will pounded a new axe handle onto a sharpened blade. “What’s going to happen now?”
The settler shook his head. “Now we’ll head to Fort Boise. Travel through the Owyhee Basin with your unit. Your colonel says your force’ll stay with our wagons.”
When Will repeated this information to Joel, the older man swore. “That’ll slow us down, travelin’ at wagon speed. Drew don’t seem very interested in finishin’ his reconnaissance mission anytime soon.”
The next day, Sunday, July 10, Will began to understand Joel’s comments as they began their trek to Fort Boise. Slowed by the wagons, they only traveled ten miles through easy terrain along the river. Again, they found a camp on the banks of the Sprague. And they stayed at this camp site for three days, while their Indian scouts went ahead to mark a path the wagons could follow through the Goose Lake Mountains.
“What in tarnation is Colonel Drew doin’?” Jonah griped as they sat by their campfire on the evening of July 12. “We coulda reached Boise by now, I bet.”
“It’s a lot farther than you think,” Joel said. “And a lot of desert twixt here’n there. But we ain’t makin’ good time, that’s for sure. We’re two weeks out of Fort Klamath, and we’ve traveled less’n seventy miles.”
July 12, 1864. Still in camp on the Sprague. Scouts are back. Word is, we leave tomorrow. Sure isn’t much happening on this expedition yet. Are we exposing ourselves to Indian attack?
On July 13, they followed the route the scouts had selected. But they made only six miles to the foothills. Colonel Drew had them stop near a grove of pine trees on the riverbank.
The sun beat down on them all day, and Will was glad of the shade in camp. “Reckon we can start the climb tomorrow when we’re fresh,” Joel told the boys. “Maybe that’s why Drew stopped so early.”
The next morning, they wended their way through the foothills. The scouts had done their job well because the grade was easy, and Will’s mules didn’t object to the climb. They traveled eight miles around the northern edge of a lake to a valley in the mountains.
As Will unloaded his mules that night, he overheard a conversation between Joel and Felix Bagley. “Hear what Drew’s done now?” the old packer asked.
When Joel shook his head, the grizzled Bagley said, “He done named this valley after hisself. Callin’ it Drew’s Valley.”
