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“Musta been the smell of fire,” another guard said. “Them horses sure were skittish.”

Sergeant Crockett led a search party to find the missing horses and mules. “McDougall, you’re with me,” Crockett ordered, as he named the men to accompany him. Though the searchers couldn’t see the surrounding mountains, they could track the stampeding animals easily enough. Broken twigs and hoof marks in the forest floor left a clear path.

They found the runaway horses and all but three mules with a band of Indians camped nearby. Then a dispute broke out between the search party and the tribesmen over whether the Indians had stolen the beasts. “We found ’em. They’re ours,” the chief said, and refused to return the horses and mules.

Crockett argued the cavalry had been in full pursuit of the beasts and the tribe had no right to keep them. He threatened to unleash the might of the U.S. Army if the animals were not returned. But it was only when he agreed to leave two Army horses behind that the tribesmen permitted the search party to cull the rest of the expedition’s horses and mules from the Indians’ herd.

When they returned to camp, Will heard Crockett tell Drew, “We lost two horses and three mules. They musta run off separate.” The sergeant didn’t tell the colonel they’d left two horses with the Indians. “Didn’t see hide nor hair of ’em,” Crockett said. “The tribesmen done us a favor catchin’ the rest of ’em. Saved us gallivantin’ all over the mountain.”

“Chasing horses isn’t a pleasant way to spend our time, that’s for sure,” Drew responded. “Do we have a chance to find the other beasts?”

“I doubt it, sir,” Crockett said.

After Drew dismissed him, the quartermaster told the packers, “You’ll have to load the remaining mules more heavily. Make up for the three what’s gone.” Will looked sidelong at Sergeant Crockett, wondering at the lie he’d told Drew. The quartermaster was no better than Will and Jonah, despite what he’d told Will about Drew not countenancing untruths from his troops.

Later that morning, Drew announced, “I’m sending an advance party up Mount Warner. We can’t remain in this camp any longer. Not enough grass and water for us to wait for the smoke to lift.” He ordered the scouting detachment to build signal fires as soon as they found water and grass.

 

September 29, 1864. Horses and mules stampeded. We found most of them. Now our scouts seek a route through the smoke. My eyes water constantly.

 

Will debated mentioning Sergeant Crockett’s negotiations with the Indians, but decided not to snitch on the sergeant, even in his journal.

Those in camp watched all day for the signal, but it never came. On the morning of September 30, a faint glimmer of light flickered through the heavy haze. Drew ordered the company to pack and leave immediately, and they met the advance party several hours later.

The full reconnaissance unit marched more than twenty-seven miles that day over parched land covered in huge sage bushes. But by evening, they reached some springs where grass and water were plentiful.

The next day—now October, Will realized—the expedition traveled another nineteen miles to another spring. The horses and mules picked their way slowly through a field of sharp lava, while Will wondered how much longer it would take to reach Fort Klamath.

By the end of the day, however, they reached their outgoing route from Klamath. “By my calculations,” Drew crowed, “we saved sixty-seven miles. From Camp Alvord we’ve traveled about seventy-three miles. On the way to Alvord, we rode one-hundred forty miles from this point. At least this journey has netted us some advantage.”

 








Chapter 52: A Present for Jenny

Jenny awoke on October 4 feeling unsettled. Her birthday—she was thirty-two. She’d spent more than half her life in Oregon, she realized, arriving in the territory mere days after her fifteenth birthday.

From the cradle next to her, a demanding cry sounded. She got out of bed and picked up little Andrew. He was still so tiny, but his voice grew stronger every day. She carried him to the rocking chair across the room, untied her nightgown, and began to nurse him. As she felt him latch on and her milk flow, she calmed and smiled. He was a greedy little mite—he’d grow to match his voice.

And what about her eldest? Where was William?

Later that morning, Esther Abercrombie and Hannah Pershing visited to wish Jenny happiness on her birthday. She sat in the parlor with them, while Maria helped Mrs. O’Malley assemble coffee and a plate of pastries.

Esther brought Martha with her, now almost four months old and already trying to roll over. Next to Andrew, she looked huge.

Esther and Hannah exclaimed over Andrew—how small he was, how lustily he cried, how much he looked like Mac. “He’s the spittin’ image of his pa,” Esther said.

“Then it’s a good thing we gave him a name from Mac’s family,” Jenny said. “Though it was an easy choice because Mac’s father just died. We wanted to honor him.”

“Perhaps someday you’ll take his namesake back to Boston to meet the rest of Mac’s family,” Hannah said.

“Perhaps,” Jenny said, but privately she doubted it. Mac didn’t seem in a hurry to return East. If his father’s death hadn’t prompted a visit, what would?

As usual this year, the conversation between Esther and Jenny turned to their missing boys. Jenny told her friends the only birthday gift she wanted was for William to return home.

“I have prayed for Jonah to come home every day since they left,” Esther said. “Particularly on his birthday. But it didn’t happen.”

“I do the same,” Jenny said. “Then Andrew came on William’s birthday. Perhaps that is a sign our boys are well.”

“At least you know they’re with Joel and in a militia unit that is surveying, not fighting,” Hannah said. “Think of those poor mothers in the East—both Union and Secessionist women. They must worry about their sons being killed every day.”

After that, the women spoke somberly about the War reports they read in the newspapers. Jenny and Hannah firmly supported the Union. Esther’s sympathies tended in that direction, though she said little. “Old Samuel Abercrombie is a Confederate through and through,” she said. “Because he hails from Tennessee. I try to stay away from talk of the War when he’s around.”

“The battles in Tennessee have been fierce,” Hannah said. “Has he lost any loved ones in the War?”

“If he has,” Esther said, “no one’s written to tell him.”

“I wish Mac would go find William,” Jenny said.

Esther nodded. “I’ve talked to Daniel, too. He says he can’t leave until after harvest—the end of this month. By then, I hope Jonah is home.”

As she left, Hannah asked Jenny, “Have you thought any more about sending Maria to work with Abigail Duniway?”

Jenny shook her head. “Not since Andrew was born. I need her with me now. And Mac didn’t like the idea of her leaving home.”

“It might be good for her to get more schooling,” Hannah said. “And to see how others live. You keep her so sheltered.”

Jenny sighed. “I suppose. Maybe I’ll talk to Mac again.” But she didn’t intend to do so any time soon.

Mac walked to his town office early on the morning of Jenny’s birthday. He’d left her to sleep as late as she could—Andrew didn’t give them much rest. Mac would be glad when the baby slept through the night. As it was, the infant fed every two hours, day or night. That made for very long nights for his parents—or short nights, depending on one’s perspective, Mac thought wryly.

He’d heard nothing about Will since the one telegram Drew sent from Fort Boise. That had been almost a month ago. He wondered whether the expedition was near Fort Klamath yet. Surely if they had arrived, Drew would have telegraphed Mac again.

Mac thought he and Daniel should travel to Klamath to meet the returning militia. He wanted a word with the colonel to complain about the Army hiring young boys for a military expedition without their parents’ consent. But Daniel said he needed to finish the harvest.

Mac grew bored with his paperwork and returned home to saddle Valiente. When he found Esther and Hannah about to leave after visiting Jenny, he offered to escort the ladies back to their farms. “I want to talk to Daniel, so I’m headed in your direction.”

“We have shopping to do in town,” Esther told him. “You go on ahead. You should find Daniel with Zeke cutting corn today.”

Mac rode to the country and found Daniel and his father Samuel reaping Daniel’s fields with the help of Zeke and his brothers. “I’ve a mind to start for Fort Klamath soon to find the boys,” he said. “By my reckoning, they should arrive there by the end of this month.”

“What makes you think so?” Daniel said, leaning on his scythe.

Are sens