The Work and the Glory (509 page)

The largest of the flatboats—empty on its return trip—was pulling in to the ferry dock. Right behind it came a second, smaller boat, empty now as well. The lead captain jumped off the boat and onto the shore. He came up to Benjamin, Joshua, and Nathan. “How many?” he barked.

“Four,” Benjamin answered.

The man stepped back and eyed the line. “The fourth one is yours too?”

Joshua nodded.

“I can’t get all four of you on my boat,” he said, “not with that many oxen.” He glanced quickly at the other flatboat, which was just tieing up, then spoke to Benjamin. “Who’s the fourth driver?”

“Solomon Garrett.”

“Hey, Garrett!” the man called. “Bring your rig up here and put it on this other boat.”

Solomon looked momentarily surprised, then nodded. He took the lead span of oxen, calling out softly, pulled out of line, and came up to where they were. As he did so, the captain eyed the other three men. “You’re still a little long, I think. Let’s unhook one span of oxen off that second wagon and send them with this big one. Also, you’ll have to untie the cow and horse. Lead them on first and take them up to the prow. We’ll be nose to wagon end as it is.”

“All right.” Nathan turned, looking for the young men of the family. “Luke. Mark. Untie the cow and horse and take them on first. Young Joshua, help me unhitch the lead span off our wagon. They’ll go with Solomon.”

As the boys sprang to obey, the captain turned to Benjamin and Joshua. “That’ll be four dollars, fifty cents.” He spat. “The fifty cents is for the extra animals.”

Joshua nodded, reached in his pocket, and took out some coins; then he and Benjamin turned to help.

Solomon led the oxen while Jessica sat on the seat above him with little Solomon on her lap. Once they were on board, Nathan led the extra span of oxen on behind them and snubbed the rope to the back of Solomon’s wagon. He stepped off again as the captain shouted at the three men crewing that boat, and they shoved off into the current.

On the other side of the dock, Matthew was leading his team of mules forward. They snorted and pawed as they reached the gangplank, but Matthew rubbed their noses and coaxed them on. Mary Ann and Jenny were on the wagon seat, with Savannah between them. Jenny held Emmeline in her arms, and three-year-old Betsy Jo poked her head out between her mother and Savannah. Lydia sat on the seat of the second wagon, holding the reins. Emily, Elizabeth Mary, and Josiah sat beside her, all of them grinning widely with the excitement as Nathan took the remaining yoke of oxen and led them forward. As he got them into position, Lydia smiled down at him. “Little Joseph fell asleep. Can you believe he’s missing all of this?”

Nathan laughed. His two-year-old had been so excited for days that he had finally given out. Then, turning back to the task, Nathan moved his wagon up until the noses of the oxen almost touched the tailgate of his parents’ wagon.

Two minutes later, Derek had his team and wagon aboard as well.

“Be sure and lock the brakes,” the captain bawled, as he jumped on board the rear of the flatboat.

At this point, the river was too wide to use a rope ferry, so the large flatboats became the means of crossing the river. This larger boat carried a crew of five. More like a great raft with a gangplank on each end and sideboards down its length, it was propelled by the current. Steering and docking were done by means of a great “rudder” oar at one side of the back end and two long “walking” side oars—oars that were worked not by sitting but by walking them back and forth in great arcs. There were also two “pole men.” Using fifteen-foot stout poles while close in to shore, they would help move the boat out into the river, or slow her down when they landed on the opposite side. Out where the water was too deep to hit bottom with the poles, they stood on the upriver side and used the poles to shove away the larger chunks of ice before they hit the boat.

At a shout from their captain, these last two men pulled the gangplank up and secured it. They picked up their poles and, grunting mightily, leaned into them and began to shove off. Just as the boat began to move away from the dock, two of the river transients suddenly grabbed their bags and jumped aboard. They made the leap nimbly, reaching in their pockets for the ten-cent individual fare even as they saw the captain glower at them.

The rest of the family climbed down from the wagons now and moved to the rear of the boat where there was room to stand together. Matthew stayed with the two mules, but Benjamin came back to join Nathan and Joshua at the head of Nathan’s yoke of oxen. Derek’s team of horses were getting skittish, not liking the movement of the boat beneath their feet, and he stayed beside them, talking quietly to them and stroking their foreheads.

“Well,” Benjamin said, glancing back, “this makes it pretty official.”

“Yes,” Joshua said.

Nathan was peering toward the far side. “I think we’re going to have to camp in Montrose for the night. It’s too late to start for Sugar Creek.”

“I agree,” Benjamin said. “They say there’s a temporary camping site just half a mile from the river.”

Just then Savannah came back to stand beside her grandfather. She put an arm around his waist and leaned against him. “How long does it take to cross, Grandpa?”

“Oh, with this big boat about twenty minutes, I’d guess.”

“Uncle Solomon’s boat is faster, isn’t it?” she said, pointing.

The smaller ferry was well out into the river now and making good time.

Benjamin nodded. “They’ll be unloaded and on their way back again before we even reach shore.”

Joshua started to say something, but then saw that the two transients were moving forward on the opposite side of the boat from them. Joshua jerked his head, motioning for Benjamin and Nathan to pay attention. It was hard not to grimace, Nathan thought. They were heavily bearded. Their hair, beneath filthy hats, was matted and greasy. Their buckskin shirts were likewise stained and soiled. As they passed across from them, the one looked at the Mormons in disgust, turned his head, and spat out a long stream of dark brown liquid.

Joshua turned his head to follow them, watching them with guarded eyes. Young Joshua and Jessica’s two boys were up front with the milk cow and the riding horse, but when the men saw them there, they moved over to the side and stayed clear.

“I don’t like the look of those two,” Joshua muttered, relaxing a little.

“I’ll be glad to see them off on the other side,” Nathan agreed.

After a moment, they turned to watch the boat’s progress toward the landing site across the river. There was a stiff wind blowing out of the west, and it was slowing them considerably. The crew worked hard, two walking back and forth with the side oars, the captain steering at the rudder oar, and the two pole men warding off the blocks of ice. Ahead of them by three or four hundred yards now, the smaller boat with Jessica and Solomon’s wagon aboard was out of the main current and approaching the shore.

They had cleared the secondary channel, passed the southern tip of the island that lay in the river directly west of Nauvoo, and were into the main current and the swiftest part of the river, when they heard a cry. They all turned to see where it had come from. Behind them and about fifty yards downstream, they saw a small skiff. An older man and two boys—probably twelve and fifteen—were rowing frantically, trying to move against the current. The boat rode low, far lower than it should have with the weight of only three people, and Nathan knew they were taking on water. They were holding their own but making no headway.

“Help! We’re sinking!”

“Pull around! Pull around!” the captain shouted to his crew, pushing the long rudder hard to the right. Almost immediately they felt the nose of the big boat start to turn to the left.

Joshua, Nathan, and Benjamin went racing back past the wagons. As they joined the captain and one of the pole men, there was a solid
thunk.
A large block of ice hit the side of the skiff squarely and nearly overturned it. The boys screamed and clutched the side of the boat as it rocked violently. When it finally righted itself, it sat several inches lower in the water, and now the water—choppy from the wind—was spilling into their boat.

The captain swore, then yelled at his side oarsmen. “Harder! Come around!” He glanced at Joshua, shaking his head. “Idiots! What are they doing out on the river on a day like today?”

“Trying to kill themselves,” Joshua said with equal disgust. “Look at that boat. That’s not fit for sailing across a puddle.”

Now the man and his sons were pulling frantically on the oars, the nose of the skiff pointed toward the flatboat bearing down on them. The ferry was now running straight downriver with the current, and the distance between them was closing rapidly.

“Watch it!” the captain cried. “Don’t run them down.”

But he had steered the flatboat right. In a moment the skiff came alongside. Nathan and Joshua went down on their knees, leaning out over the low sides of the flatboat. They grabbed the outstretched arms and pulled them up, first the two boys and then their father. Behind them, the two river transients had come back to watch. They stood by the women and children, who watched with wide, frightened eyes. The two men made no move to come over and help.

Gasping, drenched from head to foot, the man and the two boys staggered to their feet. As they stared in horror, their tiny skiff, freed now of the extra weight, started to turn in the current. When it was broadside of the swirling, muddy water, the current lifted it up and overturned it. It disappeared without a sound.

“Thank you,” the man stammered. Hugging themselves tightly, teeth chattering violently, the three of them moved close together, numbed into a trance-like state.

Mary Ann turned to Rebecca. “Let’s get some blankets. We have to get them warm or they’ll be in serious trouble.”

Lydia and Rebecca moved quickly to the back of Rebecca’s wagon, and in a moment returned with two blankets. They handed one to the man, the other to the two boys. “Here. Wrap up.”

As they did so, Joshua straightened and gave the two bearded men a withering look. “Thanks for your help,” he said sarcastically. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

They glowered at him for a moment, and then the one spat again. The brown stream of tobacco hit the deck and splattered. The captain jerked up. “You two want to find your own way across from here?” he asked in a cold voice.

They tried to stare him down for the moment, but the captain had risen to his full height.

“Stupid Mormons,” the one man finally muttered. Then they turned away and moved back up towards the front of the boat.

The captain turned and called to his two oarsmen. “All right, pull her around again. Let’s head for shore.”

It was five minutes later that another shout brought everyone up short. This time it was Savannah. She was staring back across the river, her eyes wide, her mouth registering shock. “Look, Papa!”

They swung around to look where she was pointing. There was a collective gasp, then cries of shock and astonishment. Back across the river, Nauvoo was clearly visible. What drew every eye was the temple, which stood like a majestic monument on the far bluffs. From its roof a great column of black smoke was billowing upwards.

“The temple is on fire!” Lydia cried.

“No!” Benjamin exclaimed hoarsely. “It can’t be.”

But there was no question about it. Now, even from this distance, they could see the flickering flames through the smoke.

For a moment, even the captain and crew forgot about getting the boat in to shore. Everyone stood there, mouths agape, watching what their eyes could scarcely comprehend. For those who were members of the Church, it was sickening. Not the temple. Not after everything they had done to build it.

Finally the crew went back to work, glancing back from time to time to watch. The family stood together in silent horror watching the great column of smoke rising into the sky. Then about five minutes later, Benjamin jerked his hand up. “Look! They’re fighting it.”

As they peered eastward, they saw that he was right. Now in front of the smoke and the flames, they could see tiny figures scuttling across the temple roof. From their movements it was obvious they were bringing buckets of water forward to dump on the fire, then racing back for more.

They watched, breathless, wishing they could be part of the massive effort being put forth on the far side of the river. Gradually their horror began to subside as the column of smoke thinned and turned from dark black to a pale gray.

“Thank heavens,” Mary Ann murmured.

“It looks like it’s just one spot on the roof,” Nathan noted. “I don’t think it’s any more than that.”

Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. “Wouldn’t that be terrible if it all burned?”

Suddenly Rebecca reached out and thumped her father’s arm. “Look, Papa!” she cried in a low voice.

Nathan and Benjamin both turned. In the excitement of the fire, the two transients had been forgotten. Now Nathan saw that one of them was at the back of Benjamin’s wagon, peering inside the flap.

“Hey!” Nathan shouted. “Get away from there.”

The man jumped guiltily and stepped back a little. Joshua came around, anger darkening his eyes. “You heard him!” he snarled. “Get away from that wagon.”

The second man moved over to stand next to his companion, and they glared defiantly at the assembly at the back of the boat. Neither of them moved.

“Come on,” Joshua growled, starting forward.

Lydia reached out and clutched at Nathan’s sleeve. “Nathan, little Joseph is asleep in our wagon. He’s there alone.”

Nathan and Joshua were already moving, following after Benjamin, headed for the two men. The others were staring, the temple now forgotten.

As Joshua strode up one side of the boat and Nathan the other, the two men finally backed away. “We ain’t doing nothin’,” the one growled. He held up his hands to show that they were empty.

“Then get away from that wagon!” Joshua warned.

At the back of Nathan’s wagon, the flap opened and Nathan’s son poked his head out. He was rubbing sleepily at his eyes and looked bewildered. “Mama,” he called out.