“If they left Boise shortly after September 10 when I heard from Colonel Drew, they could easily make Klamath by the end of October. They might be there already if they pushed it.”
“Wasn’t they lookin’ for a new pass through the Sierras?” Zeke asked.
“Yes,” Mac said, “but they’ll want to beat the snows in the mountains. Remember the Donners were caught in mid-October in the Sierras.”
Samuel Abercrombie spit a long stream of tobacco juice. “That were a lot farther south, weren’t it?”
“Not that much farther,” Mac said. “And the whole of the Sierra range can be treacherous.”
Daniel gestured at his crops. “I can’t leave yet.”
“Your fields is almost done,” Zeke said. “I’ll help Samuel finish your land and his. Me’n my brothers have enough brawn amongst us to get it done afore the first freeze.”
Daniel looked at his father. “That all right by you, Pa?”
Samuel eyed Zeke. “What’s to guarantee Pershing’ll keep his word?” he asked. “What’s to say he won’t welch the way he done on the ditch?”
“I ain’t—” Zeke began.
“Zeke did exactly what he was supposed to on the ditch, Abercrombie.” Mac was tired of Samuel turning every conversation into an argument. “Your lawyer agreed and refuses to represent you any longer.”
Zeke picked up his scythe again and moved to the next row of corn. “If you don’t want Daniel to leave, Abercrombie, I’ll go in his place. Jonah is my brother as much as Esther’s.”
“I raised the boy, Zeke,” Daniel objected. “It’s my place to go.”
Mac turned to Abercrombie. “See what you started? One of them is going. You decide who it should be. Will you let Zeke help you so your son can do the right thing, or will you stand in his way? I’ll take either man as a companion.”
After hemming and hawing, Samuel agreed Daniel should go and Zeke could help finish the Abercrombie harvest.
When Mac returned from the country, he settled Valiente in his stall, then went inside. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he said to Jenny, kissing the top of her head as she nursed the baby. “Daniel and I plan to leave Thursday for Fort Klamath. We’ll bring our boys home.” He reached out to touch Andrew’s fuzzy hair.
“Oh, Mac,” Jenny said, taking his hand and laying it against her cheek. “Thank you. Next to having William home already, that’s the best present you could give me.”
At supper that evening, Mac told the other children of his plans to go after Will. “We know he’ll return to Fort Klamath soon,” Mac said. “I hope to be there before he arrives.”
“I want to go, Pa,” Cal announced.
“Oh, Caleb—” Jenny murmured.
“No, Cal,” Mac said, seeing Jenny’s crestfallen face. “You must stay with your mother. You’ll be the man of the house while I’m away.”
After supper, Cal came to see Mac in his study. “I need to go with you, Pa,” Cal said. “Will won’t come home unless I do.”
“Whatever do you mean, Cal?” Mac asked, putting down his cigar.
“Before he left, he told me he didn’t want to be here as long as I was.”
Mac frowned. “Why would he say such a thing?” Brothers argued, as he well knew. But they didn’t usually tell each other they wouldn’t live in the same household.
“After I broke Maria’s horse,” Cal said, stifling a sob. The boy was trying to act grown up, but he was still a child, Mac realized. Only twelve, his voice as yet unchanged, his cheeks still round and soft. “He said he hated me. I said I hated him, too. And then he said he had no place here, that I’d taken his place, that I broke the best whittling he’d ever done, and he didn’t want to live around me anymore. Then he ran away.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Mac said.
“But he did,” Cal insisted.
“Regardless, you cannot go with Daniel and me to Klamath.”
“I have to, Pa. To tell him I’m sorry.”
Mac thought a moment. He didn’t want this son to run away like Will had done. Jenny would come undone. “I’ll tell you what, Cal. If you write Will a letter, I will make sure he gets it before we head home. And I will assure him you want him to return. Will that do? You must stay here to care for the rest of the family.”
Cal sniffled. “All right, Pa. I’ll write him tonight.”
Chapter 53: The New Pass
After crossing Warner’s Valley via the same route they’d taken in August, the expedition took a new path that ascended the western rim of the valley. “Hope we’re saving some miles,” Joel said, as their horses trudged slowly up the steep mountain grade toward the summit. “This ain’t as easy as the route we took before.”
Will felt his lead mule lag behind Shanty and gave the beast’s rope a tug. “Without the emigrant wagons, we can make it.”
“Maybe,” Joel said. He looked back over his shoulder and nodded toward the quartermaster’s wagon. “But the sergeant’s wagon is purty heavy. Hope his mules can pull it.”
“As long as he don’t offload any goods from the wagon onto our mules,” Jonah muttered. “I’m draggin’ these beasts up the mountain already.”
They continued through the day, through pine forests and open scrub. The lava fields were behind them now, and the earth beneath the animals’ hooves was smooth. By evening, they reached the eastern foothills of the Sierras and camped at the head of Honey Creek.
October 5, 1864. The country sure is pretty. Tall mountains and fresh water. Drew still won’t talk to me.
The next morning, the expedition climbed higher into the Sierras. The route ascended through forest glades, a steep but pleasant passage for the mules and even for the quartermaster’s team. The path was wide, grass-covered, and surrounded by timber, with abundant water along the way. That night, their camp was still on the eastern slopes of the Sierras, but they appeared to be near the summit.
After the long climb, they rested in that camp on October 7. Drew sent out an advance party to scout the summit and find a route down the west side of the pass. “Next valley is Goose Lake Valley,” the report came back. “We saw the lake from the heights. Once we reach Goose Lake, the way to Klamath is clear.”
On October 8, the reconnaissance force resumed its journey, following the scouts’ lead, until they crossed the summit and reached the western slopes of the Sierras. The pass they traversed was at least a half-mile wide, burgeoning with timber, grass, and water.
“Well, I suppose that is a shorter route,” Joel commented as they started their descent into Goose Valley. “And easier because it’s wide, even if it’s steeper.”
As the men made camp, Drew confirmed Joel’s impressions. “Only forty miles from Warner’s Valley to Goose Lake Valley,” he told his men. “Convenient camps along the way, with good grass and water. Finding this route is another accomplishment of our expedition.”
Cheers arose from the soldiers and packers, and the cheers increased when Drew announced, “A ration of whiskey from the quartermaster for each man.”
