The late Eli G. Coe, of Illinois, then a young man, drove them in his sleigh to the mountains, en route to Pittsburg, where they were to take boat for St. Louis. He has given me a delightful sketch of the journey, upon which he marks Whitman "The Silent Man, ever thoughtful of all his guests," and Mrs. Whitman, "The lovely little woman who was the life of the company, who often dispelled gloom, and made all forget the winter cold, by a song of cheer."
Their route was from Pittsburg down the Ohio River to the Mississippi up to St. Louis, thence up the Missouri River to near where Fort Leavenworth now stands. The journey had no mishaps until they reached "The Big Muddy," as the Missouri has long been called. Those who navigated it half and three-quarters of a century ago, will never forget the journey. It was sand bars on sand bars, forever shifting with each freshet, and snags galore! The engineer stood constantly at his lever, to answer the bell, a leadsman stood in the bow casting a lead and calling in loud, singsong the depth of water, until suddenly, like an electric shock, came the sharp, "five feet scant," and the bell rang, and the wheels reversed with a suddenness that aroused every one, until he got used to it. They were hung on snags, "hard aground" on sand bars, and as a consequence were four or five days behind the time at Leavenworth.
The reader will recollect that the fur-traders had given Dr. Whitman a cordial invitation to join them in the spring, and he was impatient but helpless in the delay. To the great discomfiture of the missionaries upon reaching the landing, they learned that the fur company had left four days before. What added to Whitman's trouble was, that at St. Louis he had been told he could get all the provisions he lacked at the fort, and upon inquiry, found nearly everything sold, and that he would have to start in poorly equipped with provisions, without a hope of being able to add to his stock, except by chance and courtesy of the traders.
This was the first great test of the courage of Dr. Whitman. Dr. Spalding was outspoken, "We must turn back and never think of such madness as to brave a journey among savages without an escort." Whitman said little, but rapidly made his preparation, simply declaring, "We will go on." Mrs. Spalding nobly seconded Whitman, and said, "I have started for Oregon, and to Oregon I will go or leave my body upon the plains." Mrs. Whitman was alike cheerful. So soon as harness could be adjusted, the loads packed, and the cattle rounded up, the man of courage gave the order, and the little train began to move through the deep mud of the Missouri River bottoms. We learned after that the fur company waited one day over the stipulated time. But they had in some way learned at St. Louis that the Doctor was going to bring with him some American women for the journey, something never heard of before, and as they were expecting to have to fight their way at times, they did not care for such encumbrances, anxious as they were to have the services of the good Doctor. Thus it was a gloomy start for the brave little company. Dr. Whitman had made ample preparation for the comfort of the women in a spring-wagon, "the brides' wagon," fitted up with various little comforts and a protection in every storm. But it is doubtful whether two cultivated American brides before, or since, ever made so memorable a wedding journey. The party consisted of the two brides and their husbands, Dr. W. H. Gray, two teamsters, and the two Indian boys. We may add that somewhere in the Sioux country the boys picked up three other Nez Perces friends; one of them, Samuel, was added permanently to the company. Mrs. Whitman writes, "When the boys get together they make a great chattering."
They were in an Indian country from the first day's start, and met great numbers of savages, out on their hunts, many moving to new camps, and some on the war-path. At no time were the missionaries molested, but on the contrary, were treated with great courtesy, and as Mrs. Whitman wrote, "They seemed greatly surprised to see white women in the party." The Indian boys were soon in their element, and of inestimable value; they could swim the rivers like ducks, and took all the care of the loose stock, and were wise in the ways of plains' life. They could explain to any suspicious Indians the coming of "the great medicine men" they were taking to their people, and in a hundred ways were helpers to the little company. Mrs. Whitman, from the outset, rode on horseback with her husband, only occasionally resting in the wagon, and for company to Mrs. Spalding, who was yet an invalid.
We make no pretense of writing a continued narrative of the journey, but just enough to catch its spirit. We have seen in it a dreary and discouraged start, and none but a hero with heroines to encourage him would have entered upon it. They had now been a whole month on the way making forced marches, the trail of the fur-traders getting fresher every day, until finally hearing they were in camp on Loupe Fork, the wagons pushed on and joined them. The Doctor and Mrs. Whitman were behind helping to hurry forward the loose stock. Finally, late at night, the Indian boys begged the Doctor and his wife to ride on to camp and leave them to drive the stock in at daylight. But they refused to leave them. Picketing their horses out to graze, then with their saddles for pillows, they lay upon the warm ground looking up at the stars and slept. At daylight they rode into camp and were courteously received and praised as "a plucky set."
The two American women, who had so alarmed the old plainsmen as a burden and an encumbrance, by their tact and kindness soon won them as friends, and nothing was left undone that the rough old fellows could do for their comfort. They had succeeded so admirably in passing safely for a month alone through the Indian country, that they began to have confidence in themselves. But they learned that they had not yet reached the point of real danger, and were glad to be protected by such a stalwart troop. The Indians had a great respect for these pioneer traders, who were veterans of the plains and splendidly armed. The greatest anxiety was for the safety of their stock at night, when picketed out to graze. The Indians especially coveted the oxen and cows, which required careful guarding to prevent stampeding. Cattle when frightened at night lose all sense, breaking away and running as long as they can stand, becoming easy prey for the savages, while horses and mules almost invariably break for the tents and wagons, and the company of men.
Camp at night is always made by driving the wagons in a circle, with tents pitched inside. The wagons make a protection from an enemy, and all their contents are in easy reach.
The year 1836 was a peaceable year among the Indians, and the buffalo and other game was so plentiful as to make small temptation for Indian depredation upon the white man's stock during this portion of the journey, but we may add they cast longing eyes at all times upon every good horse the white man rode.
In the Buffalo Country