Your Heart to Understanding

By Hazel M. Thomson

(Previous chapter)

Chapter 2

Synopsis: While Selena and Belle Baldwin, sisters, are encamped at Winter Quarters awaiting the departure of the wagon train for the Valley of the Great Salt Lake, Selena’s fiance dies, and is buried there. Selena cannot be comforted, although Josiah Blodgett, a captain of ten, and Lon Holiday, captain of fifty, try to help them.

There were many dances on the plains before the wagon train came to the mountains. Often Lon sat beside the girls as they watched the dancing. Sometimes he and Belle joined the dancers. Belle was untiring where a dance was concerned and eagerly accepted his invitations to dance. Lon developed a great admiration for Belle, finding as he did, that she did not know what it meant to complain. Her good humor saved many situations on the long, tiresome journey. He began to realize what an asset a wife like Belle would be to a man on the frontier and found himself unable to understand the strength of his feelings toward Selena, since she continued to give him no encouragement whatsoever. In fact, quite the contrary.

Selena often excused herself when he appeared, going to the wagon and leaving him and Belle alone.

Once Belle chided her for her abruptness toward him.

“How do you think Lon feels, Selena, if every time he comes near our wagon, you get up and leave?”

“Lon?” asked Selena, and it was plain that the thought had never concerned her. “How do I know how he feels, and why should I care? Who, in this whole wagon train, cares how I feel?”

“We all do, Selena,” said Belle gently. “Everyone is concerned.”

“So concerned that they sing and dance every night. They don’t bother to wonder what it does to anyone else.”

“Of course they do, Selena. But you can’t expect this entire camp to mourn every step of the way for ”

“Don’t you mention his name!” flared Selena. “You never liked him! Though why you didn’t, I’ve never been able to understand. I don’t think you could explain, yourself, what you had against him.”

Belle opened her mouth to answer, then she stopped. There was no good in adding to the burden her sister was already carrying. She could say nothing that would do any good now, in fact it could not even be proved, and might cause a serious rift between the two of them.

The only favor Selena accepted from Lon during the long journey was his offer to let her ride his horse. She loved horses, any horse. It had been a great disappointment to her when she had learned that Belle had obtained a pair of oxen to pull their wagon.

Riding the horse proved to be a welcome change, and several times during an afternoon she rode behind the wagon while Belle and Lon sat together on the wagon seat.

“It’s good to be traveling west with Josiah,” said Lon upon one of these occasions. “We’ve covered a lot of territory together. Had a right good homestead in Missouri. Best place we ever had. Hearing the gospel really changed our lives.

“It was a funny thing, too. I knew it was true right off. Josiah took a bit of convincing. He was right in there with the mob for awhile. Right up until Far West. That was more than he could take.

“There’s not a kinder person to be found than Josiah. Oh, I admit he may have a bit of prejudice against women in general, but he’s still one of the finest men I have ever known. He isn’t a man to use a lot of words, but something must have happened to turn him against the whole female sex.”

Lon jumped to the ground as they approached a deep waddy. He directed the oxen expertly to one side and then the other. The wagon swayed but stayed upright as it came back to a more level piece of land.

“Josiah taught me that,” he said, as he took his place back on the seat beside Belle. “He’s a good man with a wagon and can get more miles out of a team of horses in a day than anyone I have ever seen.”

Belle remembered this when, after a particularly rainy time, Lon rode back to report that their wagon was stuck.

“What we need are your oxen,” Lon stated.

Belle closed her lips and jumped to the ground to unloose the team from her own wagon.

“You can take them, of course. But I insist on driving them to get your load going again.”

Belle led her oxen toward the wagon ahead. Lon mounted his horse and followed a short distance behind, possibly hoping to avoid the explosion he felt was imminent.

“Your oxen! Of all the teams in the wagon train why in thunder did Lon go for yours?” Josiah demanded.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” answered Belle. “Probably because my oxen are in better condition than any other animals on the trip. You could have kept your horses up better if you had bothered to pull them a little extra grass when the picking in camp proved to be a little sparse,” said Belle.

“Pull grass for them! Nobody but a female would think of anything like that. Should I chew it for them, too?”

“If you like,” said Belle amiably. “The poor things probably don’t get it chewed up as well as an ox does, since they don’t chew their cud. You might be able to help quite a lot that way.”

Josiah snorted. Lon rode up and drew his horse to a stop.

“I’m not having any female pull our outfit out of the mud, Lon. I’ll stay here all summer first.”

Lon was feeling the humor of the situation, and his face twitched but he did not smile.

“I’ll drive old Buck and Barney, Belle. And I promise not to touch them with a whip. How about it”

“Of course, Lon. I’ll take your horse and wait back at my wagon. I guess you’ll have to pull him out, though I wouldn’t mind a bit if he did just what he said—stayed here stuck in the mud all summer.”

Belle had only reached her own wagon when she turned to see Lon coming on the run.

“You’ll have to drive them, Belle. They won’t budge for me. I think they are waiting for the sound of your voice. Josiah’s trying now, but I don’t expect him to have much luck.”

“Josiah! Lon, you promised!”

“I know I did, Belle, but I couldn’t make them move and you know how he is with animals. He thought maybe he could persuade them.”

“A couple of balky cows, if I ever saw any,” cried Josiah as they ran up. “That’s all they are. I wouldn’t have a pair of oxen. You couldn’t give them to me. I should think you’d have got a team of good horses before starting out on a journey like this.”

“You did,” said Belle calmly, “and look at the condition they’re in. You might be glad some of us didn’t have enough money to buy horses, before you get to the Valley.”

Belle patted the animals, speaking softly to them all the while, then, “Haw!” she cried. “Haw!” The oxen swung a little to the left. The chain tightened and the wagon rolled forward slowly, surely out of the mud onto firm ground.

Josiah stood by in amazement, his mouth opened, a strange, new look of admiration in his eyes. Lon, watching, caught the look at once. He was equally as surprised as Josiah; Lon to see what was happening to his friend, and Josiah, to see a woman handle a team of oxen with such skill.

“Come on, Josiah,” said Lon. “The least you can do now is to help the lady put the oxen back on her own outfit. Get the chain unfastened.”

Josiah came to with a start, only to see that Belle had already removed the pin and was carrying the chain as she turned the oxen toward the rear of the train.

“I can drive back just as easily as forward,” she said.

After she had gone a few steps she turned and looked over her shoulder.

“Sometimes it happens that women aren’t too much of a drag on a trip like this.”

The sarcasm was wasted on Josiah.

“Lon!” he cried. “Did you see that? Did you see what she did?”

“Easy, Josiah, easy,” said Lon. “That’s a female you’re talking about.”

“But she doesn’t act like a female. Why, she drove those oxen just like a man!”

Lon decided to let things rest, realizing that in Josiah’s present state of mind, it was useless to remind him that neither of the two men present had been able to move the oxen one inch.

Whenever the scouts Sent word back that Indians were in the nearby area Selena became almost petrified with fear. From the very beginning of the trip this was the thing she had dreaded most, more than the hot, scorching sun, or the wet, sodden plodding through mud, or the constant tiredness from endless walking.

“Belle!” protested Selena, after watching her sister walk among some of the red visitors who came, one day, into camp. “How can you get near them? They’re dirty. How do you know what disease you might pick up?”

Belle laughed. “They interest me, Selena. Did you see their moccasins? I’ve never seen such beautiful bead work. How I would love to have a pair.”

“You mean you would actually wear them!”

In camp meeting that night Lon gave orders to everyone in their fifty to treat the Indians kindly.

“Our Church has little trouble with them,” he said, “and we don’t want to give them any chance for action against us.
They have traded with so many wagon trains passing through
that you will find they have developed a taste for some of the white man’s food, especially flour. While we can’t spare much, in most instances just a little will satisfy them and prevent trouble. Use your best judgment in maintaining peaceful associations with them upon their occasional visits.”

A few days later another group of Indians came to the camp. Selena’s heart beat fast as she saw Belle leading an Indian squaw toward their wagon. Where could she go? What could she do? She looked about the crowded interior of the wagon for somewhere to hide the bright, beaded toes. Then she looked up at Selena whose eyes were on them as though they were something repulsive.

“Stop blaming the Indians for the sickness at Winter Quarters. They live up to the best they know — better than most of us. You know what the scripture says about them. Here, let me read it to you.”

Belle reached her Book of Mormon from under her pillow, turned quickly to Alma and read:

For it is because of the traditions of their fathers that caused them to remain in their state of ignorance; therefore the Lord will be merciful unto them and prolong their existence in the land. And at some period of time they will be brought to believe in his word, and to know of the incorrectness of the traditions of their fathers. . . .

Under the bed! It was the only possibility. It was a good thing the situation had not been reversed, for Belle could never have squeezed he r large frame in out of sight among the boxes and bags stored there.

There was not a breath of air moving and Selena felt she would suffocate before Belle found whatever she was after and her trading with the Indian woman was over.

At last, when she was certain that Belle was alone, Selena crawled out.

“Selena! Look at these moccasins! I’ve never wanted anything so much. Aren’t they perfect?” Belle ran her fingers lightly over Belle stopped, searching the passages for a moment.

“That’s true enough. Their existence has certainly been prolonged, and if the Lord is going to be merciful to them, it might prove to be a good idea if we show them a little mercy ourselves. That wasn’t what I wanted to read to you, though. . . .
Oh, yes. Here it is:

Nevertheless I say unto you, that it shall be more tolerable for them in the day of judgment than for you, if ye remain in your sins.

“You see, Selena? For your own sake, you cannot afford this unreasonable fear of the Indians.”

Selena had no answer. She knew Belle spoke the truth, yet how could she make her understand? It had been a strange sickness that could take a strong man almost overnight in Winter Quarters. If it hadn’t come from the Indians, it certainly seemed different from anything she had encountered before, and it had taken away her very reason for living.

Later, when Selena returned to the wagon to get the kettle for the evening meal. Belle sat on the bed, her toes in one of the moccasins, and her face a mask of despair. This was a most unusual sight. Selena hurried to her sister’s side.

“Belle!” she cried. “Whatever is the matter? Are you in pain?”

“The moccasins!” moaned Belle. “They’re too little. I can hardly get my big toe in them.”

“Oh! Is that all! You gave me such a fright!”

“Is that all! Here I go and trade off some of our precious flour and my old wrapper as well, and all I get is a pair of moccasins that I can’t even get on.”

Then Belle’s face brightened as a thought came to her.

“Selena! You could wear them. They might even be a little too big for you! Here. They’re yours.”

Selena drew back. “I appreciate it, Belle. I know you mean it to be a kindness, but I couldn’t take them, really.”

“You’re being foolish, Selena. These are the most beautiful moccasins I have ever seen. Here. Try them.”

“And so they are,” said Lon, coming up unexpectedly. “Let me see them. I might take you up on that.”

Laughing, he took the moccasins from Belle’s outstretched hand.

“Whose are they?” he asked as they looked at the fine piece of handwork.

“Yours, if you want them,” said Belle. “I traded for them, but I can’t begin to wear them, and Selena won’t even try. Do you think you could wear them, Lon?”

“They look a little small for me, I’m afraid, though I’d like to have them, but I can’t be selfish. I know someone who really needs these right now. Josiah.”

“Josiah! I’m not about to give these moccasins to him. He’d find something wrong with them to come and tell me about, if he had to wait until they wore out and then complain about that. No, I’ll keep them myself first.”

“His horse stepped on his toe last night, Belle. He can’t get his boot on for a few days. He’d appreciate these. He’s spent a lot of time among the Indians and has worn moccasins a lot. You could really help him out, Belle. Do it for the good of the wagon train, if not for Josiah. He can’t help much in his stocking feet.”

Belle looked at the moccasins for a long moment. Then she handed them to Lon.

“Here they are, Lon. He can have them, but I’m not taking them to him,” said Belle.

“That’s another thing,” said Lon, raising his hand against taking the moccasins. “If I go back to our camp with these, he’ll think I talked you out of them. I’d rather you took them, if not you, then Selena.”

Selena looked from one to the other. There was no way out. She would not let Lon know how she dreaded picking them up. Belle knew, of course, and Selena saw a look of admiration on her sister’s face as she took the moccasins from her.

Lon and Josiah’s wagon was about two-thirds of the way around the circle from theirs. Selena did not cut through the center where the animals were grazing, but walked around the outside of the ring of wagons.

She found Josiah seated on the wagon tongue soaking his foot in a bucket of hot water.

“I’m sorry to hear about your foot,” said Selena, as she came near.

“My own fault,” said Josiah. “My off horse always paws with his front feet when I hook him up. I should have had sense enough to get out of the way.”

“I brought you these moccasins,” said Selena, holding them out to him. “They’ll be much softer than your boot until your foot is better.”

“Lon sent you with these, didn’t he? He’s always trying to take care of me. Well, you can tell him. . . .”

“No,” interrupted Selena. “Not Lon. My sister, Belle.”

“Belle!”

Josiah was on his feet. The bucket of water went over.

Selena managed to get away just in time to avoid its pouring over her shoes. For the moment his sore foot was forgotten.

“You really mean it? Belle sent these moccasins?”

“She did,” said the bewildered Selena, “but why all the excitement? What’s so important about her sending them?”

“Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Selena, hurry along back and if you see Lon, tell him I’d like to see him right sudden like.”

“He’s acting sort of crazy,” she told Lon as she returned to her own camp. “You’d better go right away.”

Lon was off at a run. Supposing the injured foot had turned to blood poisoning. Suppose. . . .

But he needn’t have worried. When he reached his own wagon, Josiah was already wearing the moccasins, shaving carefully as he squinted into a piece of broken mirror he had propped up against the side of the wagon.

As he heard Lon’s footsteps, Josiah turned to face him, one side of his face still unshaven.

“Well!” said Lon, “why the middle of the week clean-up? What’s going on?”

“Lon!” cried Josiah. “Lon! Do you suppose she knows?”

“Knows? Who? Knows what?” asked Lon.

“Belle. Do you think she might have heard that among certain Indian tribes the squaw can choose her husband by sending a pair of moccasins to the man she decides to marry?”

(To be continued)