“We just hope they’re there in the morning. But them murderin’ varmints done killed enough of us already. Better our goods is stolen than we die.”
“Do you mean the local tribes have killed whites in the area?” Drew asked the man.
“Yes, sir. They done killed Jordan back in the spring, along with several other men.”
“Who was Jordan?” Drew asked.
“He found this valley, started the placer mine.” The man gestured at the rest of the group. “We all followed him. It’s good prospectin’ land, but we can’t live in peace with the tribes on the rampage.”
“Jordan,” Drew mused, as if he were trying to remember. “Ah, yes. I remember hearing of the incident. Colonel Maury from Fort Boise forayed here when he learned of Jordan’s death.”
“Yes, sir, he did,” the prospector said. “But he and his men was too late. We’d gone after the murderin’ bastards, but they got away.”
“So now you’re waiting for them to attack again?” Drew asked.
“That’s why we band together.” The man nodded. “We aim to keep our scalps, even if they steal our tools.”
“What would you need for better protection from the Army?” Drew asked.
The prospectors went into a lengthy description of the need for a military presence in the valley. “Them Indians rendezvous about forty miles south of here. We need cavalry right there, where the soldiers can guard the Humboldt route and the mines in this valley.”
Drew told Will to write down what they heard. “I’ll add the prospectors’ perspective into my report.”
The next morning, while the emigrants and packers rested their animals, Drew took his soldiers and Will to visit the mines. They followed the prospectors who had stayed with them the night before.
The placer mines were concentrated in a small area near Little Jordan Creek. As they stopped at one miner’s digs, Drew asked the prospector, “How much gold do you pull out of the ground in a day?”
“’Bout fifty dollars at most,” was the reply. “Usually less’n that. A lot of silver mixed in the ore. More silver than gold. We make a livin’, though we ain’t got rich yet.”
“Yet you keep mining,” Drew mused aloud.
The cavalry squad rode through the district and found a few quartz mines beginning to replace the placer mines. Drew swept an arm to encompass the land they saw. “Quartz mining will take over the entire district within a year,” he told Will. “They can be worked more cheaply. These men already have mills that will be ready to work within weeks. But the region won’t prosper until they can get machinery in here to purify the metal before it’s shipped.”
That evening, when they were back in camp, Drew dictated, “I agree with the prospectors that this valley and its citizens deserve the Army’s protection. With the numbers of tribesmen passing through and rendezvousing at the head of the valley, a military outpost could well be justified.”
September 5, 1864: The miners in this region are determined to stay despite the danger. Drew wants to protect them, but how much can one military fort do to protect such a vast area?
Chapter 47: Reaching Boise
On the evening of September 6, while Will scribed for Drew, Drew called Richardson, the emigrant wagon leader, to his tent. “Do you want to press forward with us to Fort Boise?” Drew asked, showing his rough map of the region. “Or head out on your own?”
“We planned all along to end up near Ruby City,” Richardson said. “Some of us want to mine there, and the rest of us plan to supply the miners with food and game.” He pointed to a dot on the map. “Ruby City is due north of here. No need for us to go farther east to Boise, then backtrack.”
“You think you’re safe enough without my cavalry?” Drew asked.
“Route to Ruby seems doable. We should be all right.”
“If you run into trouble, send a man back here,” Drew said. “I’m taking the packers with me to Boise, but I’m leaving most of the cavalry squad here. We’ll be back in a few days with our provisions, then we need to return to Alvord and thence to Klamath. But the soldiers I leave here can come to your aid until I’m back from Boise.”
On those terms, the wagons left the expeditionary force. On September 7 Drew took the packers and their mules forward toward Fort Boise. He took only a few soldiers under a unit led by Corporal Biddle. The quartermaster, Sergeant Crockett, accompanied the Boise contingent to supervise the reprovisioning. And Sergeant Geisy came with them to manage the packers.
“We’ll move fast now,” Drew told the men. “Get to Boise in a few days, then head back here.” Despite Drew’s promise of speed, they only made twelve miles that day before camping on another creek. But on September 8, they pushed hard and reached the Snake River after a twenty-five-mile trek.
A man named Enoch Fruit operated a ferry across the Snake. The ferry was constructed of logs lashed together with ropes. Oarsmen rowed wagons across the river for four dollars and a man on horseback for one dollar.
The expeditionary force had no wagons, only mules, and Drew decided the men and their beasts could swim the river.
Will thought of Mac’s and Jenny’s descriptions of crossing the Snake River on their trek to Oregon in forty-seven. He would have the opportunity to experience the same thing, though he had only cantankerous mules and no wagon to lead.
He also remembered how he and Jonah had used the Molalla ferry on their way to Jacksonville. If he were making the trek now, he’d swim Shanty across. He’d come to realize he and his horse were tough enough to handle it.
They camped on the west side of the Snake River that night, then made the crossing at dawn. Once across the Snake, they rode thirty miles, and arrived at Fort Boise on September 9 as the sun set behind them.
Will was exhausted, and he was glad Drew didn’t ask him to work that night. He barely got any impression of the fort after tending to his mules. As soon as he could, he fell into his bedroll and slept.
The next morning after breakfast, Drew sent a soldier to bring Will to the commandant’s headquarters at Fort Boise. Will was currying Shanty and checking his horse’s hooves. He needed to see to his mules, then he wanted to wander around the fort. But he followed the soldier, assuming Drew needed a scrivener.
“Yes, sir?” he asked the colonel when he arrived.
