What does a party of missionaries, three Nez Perce, an English nobleman, a scraggly bunch of mountain men, and 5,000 buffalo have in common?
The above question has several answers, however the first that comes to mind is that they all had dinner together somewhere out on the Great Plains, minus about 4,995 buffalo give or take a haunch or two.
By now Spalding’s battered and bruised body is surely on the mend and he, as well as the entire company of missionaries, is dried out. So it is forward ‘Ho’ to catch up with Tom Fitzpatrick and his band of merry mountain men. Just a quick summary here should get the idea across of how this portion of the their progress went. After an extended time of travel one portion of the missionary party hurried on ahead, leaving the others to catch up. Of course a previously agreed upon spot of rendezvous had been designated. And, naturally, the first party does not stop there to wait on the second party. But this is not entirely their fault as they were misled by their guide.
This first portion of the split party also had considerable trouble crossing the river. And this, again, was not exactly their fault. Though they had evidently been provided with several crafts in which to transport themselves across the waters, when the time of the crossing came they were down to one canoe. And here it is hard to place the blame considering that the dogs that were with them had eaten the other canoes. Which may have brought the entire situation down to the age-old excuse of “I thought it was your turn to feed the dogs.” And we don’t even want to go into the missionary rebuttal that may have occurred.
There may not have been time, however, to argue the point since by now one of the wagons needed repairs. It had also become obvious that the wagons were overloaded and items had to be selected, their value considered, then jettisoned to spend the remainder of their days littering the prairie along the trail. But they would not be alone for long. In time, pioneering settlers and gold-seekers would follow in the missionaries’ westward wake. They, too, would come with wagons overloaded and be forced to leave behind on the lone prairies their precious possessions.
Through all of this stress the missionaries were surely sending prayers heavenward as they cautiously glanced over their shoulders at every moving shadow. They were on the fringe of the homeland of the fierce and bloody Pawnee. They must hurry and catch up to the safety of Fitzpatrick’s fur party.
| Here's the follow-up discussion on this article: | View all related messages |
For a complete listing of article comments, questions, and other discussions related to Mary Trotter Kion's The Great Plains topic, please visit the Discussions page.