Chapter V

AN ENCOUNTER WITH PIRATES, AND A FORTUNATE DELIVERANCE; BEN FOUND; HIS PROMPT START FOR MISSOURI AND UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL; A SON BORN TO THE PELTONS.

Near the noon hour, with the headland yet in the distance, Pelton noticed two canoes whose occupants were paddling as if speed were a question of life or death with them. Not long afterward, another was seen going frantically in the same direction, followed closely by two more. Steicca observed the racing canoes, but though evidently disturbed as to the cause, discreetly said nothing.

About the same time Kate saw either a boat or large canoe coming directly toward them and wondering what it could mean, called Isaac's attention to it. Sally had likewise discovered the craft and showed signs of uneasiness. A friend had told the story of how, many years ago, her little boy was taken captive by the northern Indians, carried off into slavery, and had never been heard from since. Somehow the appearance of this boat or large canoe revived the memory of that occurrence and created a fear for the safety of Pete. Slavery was once practiced in her own tribe (though at that time discontinued); but she had been told by other Indians that the northern tribes were known to still {138} follow the practice, which seemed corroborated by the taking of her friend's boy. As the large craft approached nearer, Sally hid Pete under the cover of a mat beside her with fearsome admonitions that impelled him to lie quiet and not betray his presence.

Pelton's suspicions led him to slip his fowling piece out of sight, and Kate's trusted rifle was under the outfit in the bottom of the canoe. Isaac directed that no sign of fear should be manifested when they were overtaken, and all intercourse with the strangers be left to him.

As the pirates came alongside they insolently threw a line over the bow and stern posts, and then lashed the two canoes firmly together; being much longer and wider, theirs loomed high above that of Pelton's. It was of the pattern of the canoe in which the northern tribes manned with seventy or more men went boldly to sea on their whaling excursions; while not one of the largest, it would easily hold twenty men.

Seven were on each side, with paddles in their hands, one at the helm and a lookout in the bow, sixteen in all stalwart men in size and physical condition far above the tribes farther south. The same may be said of their mentality. In the northern tribes were painters and sculptors of considerable ability, as evidenced by their totem poles, inscriptions on rocks and ornaments of their mammoth canoes.

There were silversmiths in some of the tribes, as {139} shown by many specimens offered for sale on occasions of their peaceful visits to the white settlements. Nor were the women behind the men in ability for fine work, abundantly illustrated by baskets, mats and other articles for ornaments or domestic use.

Ethnologists attribute the superiority of these northern tribes in part to a mixture of Japanese blood from castaways in past centuries, perhaps even in prehistoric days; facial resemblances suggest the fact, which seems to be confirmed by the remains of wrecked junks on the northern coast. These were the people into whose clutches Pelton and Kate had fallen on their honeymoon trip.

The spokesman for the buccaneers began by saying that they wanted a tent, one of which was in sight, to which Pelton firmly responded that he did not have any to spare. He had noticed a ship beating up the Sound against the wind that had tacked toward them, and realized that a parley to gain time until the ship came nearer would be their best chance of escape.

Isaac noticed a silver ring on the spokesman's hand and offered to buy it for his bride; for a moment the wily savage was thrown off his guard, and looked Kate over with evident satisfaction. Just then one of the men said something in a low tone, and after several articles had been snatched by the robbers, the lines fastening the two canoes together were suddenly cast off.

This precipitate action was caused by the near {140} approach of the ship then bearing directly upon them; but unfortunately, it tacked and bore rapidly away the same moment the lines had been loosened from the canoe. Instantly all four paddles were frantically wielded to overtake the ship, until by a supreme effort Steicca broke his.

The Indians soon discovered their advantage, but did not give chase until they observed that the space between their victims and the ship was widening. Kate then gave her paddle to Steicca and intently watched the movement of their recent captors.

"As I live, Isaac, they have started to follow us," she said, as the bow of the robber canoe was turned toward them, "is your gun loaded?" "It is not," Pelton answered. "Then load it quick, and be careful," she cautioned, speaking while reaching down for her rifle and ammunition so as to be ready for action at the crucial moment.

Realizing that it was impossible to escape by racing their few paddles against fourteen, Isaac loaded his gun and deliberately calmed his nerves for the contest. The ship was now too far away to render assistance, and the robbers were rapidly gaining on them. While yet beyond rifle shot, Pelton directed Steicca and Sally to cease paddling, not to make any movement in the canoe other than to keep it pointed on its course, and for Steicca to lie down.

"I believe you can reach them now, Kate," Isaac said. "Wait a minute," came the response in a firm {141} voice, while she stood upright in the canoe. We may well believe the aim was deliberate, for the bullet lodged in the body of the lookout, who tumbled off his perch into the water.

It took but a moment to reload the rifle. Pelton could not reach the buccaneers with his fowling piece at that distance, and held his fire in reserve. The robbers stopped to pick up their dead or wounded comrade.

Sally and Steicca resumed their strenuous paddling as Kate sat down; but when Isaac saw the Indians coming toward them a second time, he again directed to cease paddling so their craft would be steady for aim at the next victim. Onward came the great canoe, again Kate reserved her fire and was successful in hitting her target--this time the helmsman. As the canoe swung off its course to within range of Pelton's gun, he disabled two or more on her broadside.

By this time the ship tacked again and was now approaching, while a sloop rounded the nearby point and made directly toward the distressed voyagers. Seeing these, the marauders drew off toward the eastern channel, and were soon out of sight.

It is unlikely that they ceased the pursuit because of their losses, for it is a matter of history that once this same tribe had 117 warriors in a combat, besides their women and children. During the fight 27 were killed and 21 wounded; but they held out stubbornly for two days, when hunger {142} compelled them to yield. Another historic reference illustrating the ferocity of this tribe, the "Haidahs," states that "both ships were attacked by northern Indians when off the upper end of Vashon Island; all on board, eleven in number, were murdered and the ships plundered and burned."

When the ship was finally hailed, no explanation was required, as the pilot had heard the guns; the captain, with the aid of his glass, knew what had happened. As the canoe came alongside, he cordially invited all, including the Indians with the Peltons, on board; he also took up the canoe, as he was intending to cast anchor off the village from whence they came.

Nothing on the ship was too good for his unexpected guests. The captain had heard of Kate's experience as Deputy Sheriff, but not of the wedding. His enthusiasm at that news knew no bounds; by the time they arrived at the village he insisted that the bride accept a silver table service which she treasured to the end of her life as the present from the big-hearted captain.

Pete had the time of his life with the sailors, who were surprised to see the bright little fellow, up to all sorts of pranks as he explored the ship from stem to stern and from top to bottom. He and his mother were fairly loaded down with presents; Pete never forgot his sailor friends, and in fact became a sailor himself.

The evening after their arrival at the village, {143} Kate and Pelton rowed out to the ship, still at anchor in the harbor, to offer the old tar sincere thanks and leave with him some token of good will and appreciation for the opportune way in which he appeared upon the scene and rescued them from imminent peril of the northern savages. Capt. Pierson was past middle age but in perfect health, and an impulsive jollity pervaded his whole being. He would not listen to their leaving the ship until after dinner, nor to their profuse thanks for his act.

"Oh, that's nothing; a man who did not respond in such an emergency would be a brute. I only wish I could have chastised the rascals," he said--and meant it.

The captain belonged to a class of seafaring men (now almost extinct), which once carried the Stars and Stripes to the farthermost corners of the earth--free and easy with comrades, but usually a strict disciplinarian, though sympathetic with his men. He was the aristocratic ruler of the little world within the bounds of the ship, their home and castle; all were inured to the hardships of long voyages without complaint, but every one greatly enjoyed the respite of a few days in port.

From time immemorial the "ships that go down to the sea" have carried the commerce of the world, and planted the seeds of civilization in every clime. It is difficult to realize that all this has been changed within the range of one span of life. Only a very small number of sailing ships now leave the ports {144} of the United States; and the noble "clippers," the pride of the nation at that period, very seldom grace the waters of the two hemispheres any more. And the rugged, jolly captains, bronzed and weather-beaten, rough in speech and stern in looks though usually kind-hearted and generous beneath the surface, have almost vanished--like their ships.

Seafaring men who navigate the oceans in the immense vessels of the present time are entirely unlike the old-time sailors in appearance and actions. The modern crew appear upon our thoroughfares in fancy uniforms, the officers resplendent in gold braid and gilt buttons, and the common sailors in natty uniforms, usually without anything to mar their dandified appearance. One can easily tell that reefing a mainsail or splicing a rope is no longer part of their duty.

But the old-timers came ashore careless in appearance and rollicking in manner, out for a good time--ready for a fight or a frolic--and usually had it. Now they belong to the things that were, and we see no more of them.

Captain Pierson believed the reason the Indians did not return the fire was that their spokesman wanted to take Kate captive, for they could have destroyed the little honeymoon party without mercy. The confusion incident to the loss of their helmsman, quickly followed by the wounding of several of their paddlers, and the sudden tacking of the ship so disconcerted their plans that the marauders barely {145} had time to get beyond reach of the howitzers on its deck. It was late when Pelton and Kate fairly tore themselves away from the jovial captain and left the ship, and long past midnight before the council of Kate, Isaac and Squire Mulhall broke up, after agreeing upon a plan of action.

Pelton had several times spoken about his former slaves, Andrew and Jennie, whom he had left in Iowa; and could not banish from his mind thoughts of the danger that "night riders" from Missouri might carry them off into captivity. Besides, Jennie had cared for him with a mother's solicitude after the death of his own mother while he was still quite young; and Andrew had always been kind to him in his boyhood days, as well as faithful to his interest in later life. And that unsophisticated little girl, Margie! Somehow he could not feel easy in his mind to leave them where they were; now they were separated, he realized that he remembered, and appreciated more than ever before, their kind and considerate acts toward him.

How to bring them on from Iowa to Oregon was a problem with almost insurmountable obstacles, which Isaac had thoroughly discussed with Kate, taking advantage of that favorable opportunity to let her know that he had abundant means in Missouri to provide for their trip--and to her surprise a fairly large sum besides. While Kate had not married for money, she was nevertheless gratified to know that Pelton possessed a goodly fortune, and sympathized {146} with his laudable desire to expend a part of it to better the condition of his former slaves.

Kate resolved to share Ben's secret with both her father and husband, and to suggest that the Squire should go to see or send for Ben. She would also have her father and Isaac supply him with enough money to bring Linda to Oregon with Andrew, Jennie and the little girl Margie. All instantly agreed to the plan, and became so enthusiastic that they forgot all about their recent escape from death, and the cares of pioneer life still confronting them.

"I will not go until school is out," the Squire said, "and then will take the girls with me." He had noticed that they continued to harbor jealous thoughts toward Pelton. Kate reminded her father that any considerable delay would make it too late for Ben to cross the plains the next season. Isaac advised by all means to avoid the Isthmus route as being too uncertain, dangerous and withal very expensive.

Pelton announced that he would start at once, and search for a claim until he found one that suited him; then he would immediately proceed to prepare a home, and be away most of the time until school closed. In acceding to this suggestion, the Squire said he would take the girls over to Ben's claim in the spring, as he intended to care for it himself while the young man was making the trip; and was anticipating the opportunity to repay Ben for his faithful and honest service on the long trail.

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So intent had been the council, that all forgot the lateness of the hour; the thought of sleep was banished by the excitement incident to the plans made, but all felt supremely happy. Father Mulhall suggested that they celebrate a little by an oyster supper, even at the unseasonable hour; and Kate, who the very evening before had secured some Puget Sound oysters from an Indian, instantly seconded the suggestion. Oysters, unlike other shell fish of the Sound, were rare and confined to small areas of beds.

Kate had learned that though very small--not larger than one's finger nail--these were very delicious; and had provided them to celebrate their wedding a month ago to-morrow. And here it was, the date already ushered in, though the sun had not risen! Her celebration was intended as a secret to be disclosed as a surprise to her husband and father to demonstrate how supremely happy she was, not only in the escape from captivity among the hordes of northern savages, but as the wife of Isaac Pelton. There was no toastmaster or speeches at the little banquet that followed; but a spirit of unalloyed cheerfulness prevailed, and all were very hopeful of what the near future would bring forth.

Mulhall's search for Ben proved a short one, as the crude records of the self-surveyed Donation claims quickly revealed the identity of the nearby participants, and the Squire was delayed only a day in reaching the location chosen by his young friend. {148} Ben was a short distance from his cabin splitting rails from a worm fence to protect the crops of the following season, when the Squire arrived; and, following the sound of the maul soon came upon Ben intently engaged at his task, not dreaming of the presence of anyone behind him.

Mulhall stopped a moment in mute surprise at the change that had come over the young man. He was looking at a stalwart frame instead of the slim lad who had helped to train the team in the Missouri barn-yard; and stood as if fascinated until Ben by a change in position became aware that a figure was standing near him.

"Why, father!" "Why, Ben!" sufficed for the greeting, but not so the hand-shakes that followed, for the Squire clasped Ben in his arms, while tears of joy fell upon his own cheeks. We may well believe that a pleasant visit followed, but it was soon interrupted by the important information to be shared between them.

Ben listened, as if in a dazed condition of mind, to words that seemed to be too good to be true; but when he grasped the full meaning of the Squire's message, it was Ben's turn to display so-called weakness; he threw his arms around Mulhall's neck and planted a kiss upon the furrowed cheek of his friend and benefactor. But the Squire considered that all he had done, or proposed to do, was only a recompense in part for a debt that could never be paid in full.

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"But, father, what am I to do about my claim?" Ben asked after taking a little time to think over the proposed trip. "Well, I'm going to stay here until you come back with that young wife; and you may be sure there will be some crops growing when you return," the Squire responded. So preparations were made almost at once for the proposed trip; and time began to pass.

No one could tell how long it would take to reach the old home, though Ben knew that he must go out to sea over a dangerous bar where recently there had been a wreck, with the loss of many lives. Thence on to and across the Isthmus and to New York, where he would reverse the direction of travel and turn his face westward toward their former home in Missouri.[1] Parts of the journey would be by railroad, stage-coach, horseback and steamboat.

We cannot record the incidents of the trip, thrilling though some of them were; it will suffice here to say that on a frosty noonday in February, 185-, Ben clasped his surprised mother to his breast with the utterance of one word, "Mother." The story of another overland journey from Missouri to the Oregon country will be told after we have followed the fortunes or misfortunes of David Mulhall, Isaac Pelton and his bride, and the two little twin sisters.

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It will be remembered that when the Squire left home to find Ben Hardy, Pelton was preparing to look for a claim where he could establish the home so long pictured in his mind. In the course of his wanderings, Isaac had some thrilling experiences which came near ending in tragedy. The Oregon Country of almost limitless extent--as one might say, a thousand miles each way--presented many and varied conditions to confuse and impel one to continued search, with something new almost every day.

In the small corner of the great region which Pelton examined there were no roads or provision for crossing rivers, and only a few sparse settlements. When a cabin was found, he was always assured of a cordial welcome and the best it afforded; but at length, after a two days' tramp he was virtually lost, without blankets or food. That somewhat cooled his ardor; and as he had already overstayed the set time, Isaac suddenly abandoned the search and turned his face homeward. He arrived there safely, to the great relief of Kate, who had become very uneasy at his prolonged absence and non-return at the appointed time.

Pelton's story of what he had seen and experienced--wading a river nearly waist deep, slipping off a log into the water and swimming with his boots on, losing the trail and camping in the deep forest overnight without fire, blankets or food--cast a shadow over the bright pictures of a home in the minds of {151} both; but he had found a magnificent country, and intended to go back and try again. At first Pelton resolved not to tell Kate of the mishaps of the trip, of the real hardships endured or how he had come so near to death's door.

He argued to himself that it would only sadden her and do no good. Then the question as to whether or not he was justified in having a secret from his trustful wife would come uppermost in his mind. If he now began with one, others would surely follow, and the resolve--a compact with himself--was made that he would have none; so the full story was told to her.

A month passed and though several trips were made, no location was yet found to suit him. Finally, he received information from a neighbor about some excellent land not yet taken; and immediately starting out to examine the tract, found it even better than represented. After staking his claim, he returned and informed Kate of his good fortune in finding a location satisfactory in every essential respect.

Father Mulhall wrote that Ben had started on his long trip, and was now well on the way; and that as soon as school closed, he would come after the girls. He added that he would plant on Ben's claim and stay with the crops until he returned; and as a postscript, Wouldn't Kate like to come over with the girls, and see Ben's claim and Craig? In reality the Squire was lonesome and wanted his daughter with {152} him for awhile; he also knew that she and the girls would enjoy the trip--besides he had a surprise in store for them.

Pelton said, "By all means, go; it will be a nice jaunt for the girls, though a little rough. I'll give each of them a pony to make the trip horseback, and all can have a jolly good time on the way, as well as while there." He was enthusiastic in urging Kate to go, while she didn't feel sure of wanting to do so.

The fact was, she was more inclined to move out on the claim which she had not seen, while Isaac planned to wait until he could have a surprise for her in the new house he was contemplating. Kate suggested building a cabin, where she could be as happy as in a more commodious residence, to which Pelton assented with a mental reservation that he would build one for Andrew and Jennie. And if Kate persisted, they could live in the cabin while the house was being built, though that would defeat the surprise party he had in mind.

"Isaac, I believe you want to get rid of me," Kate jestingly said one day after making up her mind to go with the girls; but lovingly added, "you'll feel sorry after I have gone." However, they understood each other and were drawn closer together by the thought of temporary separation.

Pelton's attention was called to two ponies so nearly alike in build, size and marks that it required close observation to distinguish "Tom" from "Jerry"--both beauties, with keen bright eyes, lively yet {153} docile, and safe for the girls to ride. He did not let the extra price asked stand in the way of his becoming the owner of them; and purchased two new saddles and bridles to set them off handsomely. A small riding whip, though not needed in riding, was attached to each saddle.

On the afternoon of the last day of school, the ponies were brought by Pelton's direction into the front yard before the girls came home. Their manes and foretops were plaited with red, white and blue ribbons; and they held up their heads as if proud of the decorations. Before Isaac rode off to the homestead to be gone overnight, Kate was enjoined not to tell them from whom the ponies came--only to say they were presents, and "lots" might be drawn to determine which one of the girls should own "Tom," and which one should have "Jerry."

"Who brought these here, Mamma? Where is he? Tell him to take them away!" was spoken in such quick succession as to preclude the possibility of an answer until the questions and the exclamation had been completed.

"The man said they belonged to two little girls that live in this house; he left them in the front yard, but went away without any explanation," Kate replied. All of this was true, though not all that she knew. Kate and the girls then took hold of the halters, and led the ponies outside the garden gate.

"What did you mean, Mamma, when you said they belonged to two little girls that live here?"

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"That's what the man said when he left them and went away."

"But you don't mean it?" persisted Sarah.

"I only told you what the man said."

"Yes, but you don't believe it, do you?" Sarah came back in an attitude of cross-questioning.

"Look on the pummel of the saddle and see," Kate responded; and in doing so displayed evidence of knowing more about the case than she had intended to reveal.

"From Santa Claus to Sarah," the girl read as she held in her hand the paper just taken from the saddle, unnoticed before. Then she intently re-read the label, and exclaimed, "Oh, I know--it's from Uncle Isaac, as sure as I am alive."

For the first time in her life she had called Pelton "uncle"; before it was either "Mr. Pelton," "Sir," or some monosyllable to address or make reply. Sarah had recognized the handwriting on the note, and then knew instantly where the present came from.

Now that she was trapped, Kate gave away the whole plan about the intended trip to see father and Craig, and have a good time on the trip besides. Sarah fairly worshiped Craig since the memorable scene at the lone pine on the Oregon Trail. His promise, "I will mark your mother's grave so you can find it the longest day you live," had sunk deep in her memory and fixed in her youthful mind the thought that some day she would visit {155} the sacred spot and pay homage to her saintly mother--the germ of a plan that led in later years to a pilgrimage to the grave, as will subsequently appear.

Next morning the ponies were returned to the front gate of the garden all ready for a run in the country, and with a riding mare for "mamma." The girls had not forgotten their experience of riding "Nell" on the plains, but were at first shy of the ponies. Sarah soon plucked up courage to mount Tom, while the Indian boy held him; but in a spirit of mischief, the boy suddenly let go of the halter, whereupon the pony started off on a canter before the rider was fairly seated, or could grasp the reins.

Up the village street they went on a gallop, Sarah holding onto the pummel of the saddle, with her feet dangling in the air outside the stirrups. Tom stopped of his own accord at the hitching rack in front of the village store, and Sarah scrambled off the pony's back as quickly as possible to be out of sight of the idlers there. Her teacher, happening by and seeing her predicament, held Tom until she mounted with both feet in the stirrups and reins firmly in hand; then with the pony under control, she was soon back at the starting place by the garden gate.

When all three were mounted, the course taken led up the hill and at a more moderate gait until the prairie was reached. A delightful day in the wide, open spaces, with a visit to the old camping ground and a canter back home in the evening, ended their first day of horseback riding in joviality and {156} pleasure. A few days of such practice sufficed to prepare them for their long jaunt on the road or trail to Ben's cabin beyond the big river, over the prairies and through dense forests.

Following a narrow road the third day out, Sarah leaned over to avoid the overhanging brush and fell sprawling into a sea of mud, the saddle having turned to Tom's side. Seeing her sister's predicament Bess laughed, but Sarah rather pettishly said she couldn't see anything funny about it, to which sister readily assented, but admitted that somehow or other she couldn't help it. The incident had a serious side, as her clothes were now spattered with sticky mud from head to foot; her shoes were filled with it and even her hair bedaubed.

It was necessary to stop and clean her clothes, empty her shoes, gouge the mud out of her ears and wash it off of her face. A few miles further on, it became Sarah's turn to laugh when Bess was scraped off her saddle and tumbled over Jerry's rump, holding onto his tail to lighten the fall; but Bess couldn't see anything funny about that! After numerous mishaps, the party finally reached the river steamer, where the ponies were comfortably stalled; then all the party had a general clean-up on the upper deck, and a good laugh together as the adventures on the road were recounted.

In two days more of tiresome traveling, with the glamour of a horseback ride worn off, Ben's cabin was reached and father Mulhall's welcoming kiss {157} bestowed. Notwithstanding the various adventures on the trip, all enjoyed the experience, and expressed a desire to return the same way.

The very next day, Craig came, as he did every other Sunday of the month, to make good a legal "residence" on his claim. He was a great favorite with the twins, and the reunion that followed repaid all the fatigue of their trip. Toward evening he excused himself to visit a neighbor, and withdrew, leaving his end of the cabin free to the visitors.

Only a week had passed when, to her father's surprise, Kate announced that she would start for home the next day after the morrow. He felt hurt that the daughter he loved so well should cut her visit short; but nothing he could say would alter her resolution. Kate had a reason of her own which she did not explain to her father--but which he would know later, and the reader will probably surmise.

Pelton was as much surprised at her sudden return as the Squire had been upon her hasty departure; and his plan of introducing Kate into a finished residence, of which he was certain she would be proud, was frustrated. He had all the workmen that could be employed to advantage in hastening completion of the residence, including hot and cold water under pressure in the kitchen, a convenience she had never experienced.

Isaac admitted to himself that he was pleased when Kate told him she preferred to stay for the present in their village home. But when he returned from {158} the claim on the second Saturday, he found the drawer of the dresser locked--something that had not happened before--and his razor, shaving cup and brush outside. Pelton was becoming conscious that Kate had a secret she didn't want to disclose, but said nothing about it.

Work on the residence progressed apace; and every Saturday Isaac came to spend Sunday in the village. Somewhat to his relief, Kate had not yet expressed a desire to visit the new home; but a month later Pelton was ready, and to his delight Kate, still without an inkling of the great surprise in store for her, said that she was willing to go.

One day, after Kate had been at the new home for a few weeks, enjoying it with indescribable pleasure, a lady and gentleman drove up to the front door. Though strangers, she had evidently expected them, and promptly directed the man where to stable his horses, and then asked him into the house for lunch, though it was after the usual hour. The woman went at once to the kitchen and began helping to prepare the lunch and to make herself otherwise useful.

Isaac came in later, but expressed no surprise at their presence, for he was also expecting them. Without ceremony, the lady took charge of the household work, while the gentleman sauntered into the library and became absorbed among the books in the small but choice selection on the shelves. Thus a week passed in quiet expectation.

One night a light was left burning in the room {159} up-stairs, and neither of the visitors retired at the usual hour. The nurse remained in the room with Kate, and the doctor made frequent visits there, finally remaining a considerable length of time. Then, in answer to Pelton's anxious inquiry, he said, "It's a boy, and a rousing little fellow he is."

When father Mulhall heard that he had a grandson, the mystery of Kate's early departure was explained; and his slight pique was turned to joy and exultation, increased by parental pride in the daughter who had always been so loving and helpful to him. As soon as they knew about it, the twins were very anxious to see their nephew, and filled with childlike pride at the prospect of being called "aunt."

[1] The map of the Oregon Trail and the National Road on page 8 will give the reader some idea of the principal routes traveled to Missouri, either from the Atlantic Coast or the Pacific Northwest, during the period covered by this narrative. E.M.

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