Love is the greatest word in the English language, and when united to Faith, it lifts the heaviest burdens of life. Who can measure the power of the prayers of one faithful, trusting soul, in guiding that heroic little band over the dangers of their unknown way? Possibly some reader may scoff at such sentiment, but unnumbered instances have proved that there comes an emergency in every human life, when the soul, if reason is not clouded, cries out in prayer to a Being higher than itself.
The cavalcade is made up of rapid riders. The favorite gait of Cayuse horses is a lope, and small as they are, carry a heavy man fifty and sixty miles per day. But as the journey was to be a long one, they selected the finest horses to be found, only those thoroughly broken and tested. They knew the value of caring for their animals in the earlier stages, and lessened their speed.
The first four hundred and fifty miles to Fort Hall was made in eleven days. The Indians, except two to look after the animals, had returned to Waiilatpui.
At Fort Hall their old friend, Captain Grant, was still in command, and when he learned of the proposed journey to the States, openly protested that "it was madness to attempt it at this season of the year." Undoubtedly Captain Grant this time was right, even if Whitman had proved him, to his chagrin, wrong about the wagon in 1836. "It so happened" that a company of scouts just then reached the fort, and confirmed all Captain Grant had said, and more. They reported that the snow in many of the cañons was from ten to twenty feet deep, and badly drifting. The Silent Man listened, and sat thinking. He knew those mountains and cañons, and could readily believe the statement of the scouts, and the old Captain, who was an admirer of Whitman, felt certain that he would give up his dangerous expedition and return home. But he did not yet know his man.
The Old Map
Whitman was face to face with a new problem. As he prayed and pondered, a new inspiration came to him. We have no reason to believe that such an idea had occurred to the missionaries, when discussing the dangers of the journey by the route they knew. We have no knowledge that even Whitman had ever before studied the possibilities of a new and undiscovered way to the States.
The old trappers and scouts sat around the stove swapping stories of bears, mountain-lions, of Indians, and wonderful escapes. Whitman, upon looking up, discovered an old United States map hanging upon the wall. It at once attracted his attention, and he brought it to the light and began to study. It had the outlines of all the great West as far as geographers of that day knew and understood. The ranges of the mountains were nearly accurately pictured. "The great Stony," the Sierra and Coast ranges, the Shasta, and Wind River, and the possible passes were marked, so as to give some idea of the lay of the land.
The thought came to him, why not strike west and south and get between the great ranges so as to avoid the earlier snows of winter? He found marked upon the map Fort Uintah, an old abandoned Spanish fort, which came into possession of the United States in 1818, by the Florida treaty. He then began inquiry among the old mountaineers and found a man who knew the blind trail to Uintah, located in what is now northern Utah. He learned also there was an abandoned trail from that point southward. The old scout was ready to pilot them to Uintah, and was at once engaged. At break of day Whitman and Lovejoy were in their saddles en route, led by the guide, not homeward, but upon a voyage of discovery of the unknown way. The route led south through what is now Idaho, thence through Utah leaving Great Salt Lake to the right. General Lovejoy gives very indistinct notes, not sufficiently clear to accurately verify locations. He kept a record of daily events, but Whitman never a line. Lovejoy writes:
"From Fort Hall to Uintah we met with terribly severe weather. The deep snow caused us to lose much time. At Uintah we took a new guide to Fort Uncompagra in old Spanish territory, which place we safely reached. There we hired a new guide, and while passing over a high mountain on the trail toward Grand River, we encountered a terrible snow storm which compelled us to seek shelter in a deep, dark cañon. We made several attempts to pass on, but were driven back, and detained ten days. We finally got well upon the mountain again, when we met with a violent storm of snow and wind, which almost blinded us, maddened the animals, and made them nearly unmanageable. Finally the guide stopped and said, 'I am lost and can lead you no farther.' In this dire dilemma, adds General Lovejoy, Dr. Whitman got off his horse, and kneeling in the snow, committed his little company, his loved wife, his work, and his Oregon to the Infinite One for guidance and protection. The lead pack mule being left to himself by the guide pricked up his long ears, turning them this way and that, and began plunging through the snowdrifts. The Mexican guide called out, 'Follow this old mule, he will find the camp if he lives long enough to reach it.'"
And he did lead them to the still burning fire they had left in the morning in the deep, dark cañon. The instinct of dumb animals is a wonderful gift, superior to that of wise men. The writer has, twice in his life, been rescued by his horse when hopelessly lost. One instance I will recite, simply to impress a lesson of kindness upon my young readers for dumb animal life. Two of us, in a large hunting party in Arkansas, got separated from the rest, and found ourselves in the back-water of the Mississippi River, which was many miles away. My companion was an old woodsman, and pretended to know his direction. He assured me "We will come out all right." He led on and on for hours, the water growing constantly deeper. I finally called to him and pointed to the water-mark on the trees as high as our heads as we sat on our horses. I said to him: "You are lost, now I am going to trust to my horse to lead me from danger." He insisted he knew the way, but followed. My horse was a sleepy old fellow, and I gave him a little cut with a whip to wake him up, then gave him a loose rein to go as he pleased. He wound around fallen trees and brush until he got his direction, then turning nearly at a right angle, struck a line like a surveyor, and in two hours we were upon dry land and in camp.