But no, the doctor made a cart of the back wheels and lashed on the fore wheels. "I shall take it through, Narcissa, in some shape or other," he said.
"You can get it no farther," said the Hudson's Bay men at the cottonwood stockade of Fort Hall—the fort that Wyeth had sold to McLoughlin.
But the doctor went ahead and swam the deep, swift Snake. Cart and mules turned upside down and were almost lost, but with iron grip the doctor brought them out on the other side and safe to Fort Boisé". Then all rose up. "'T is a crazy scheme to take the wagon on," they cried. "The season is late, the animals are failing, the wagon is a source of delay, the route in crossing the Blue Mountains is said to be utterly impassable for it."
"I will send for it by and by," said the determined missionary, stowing the battered vehicle away in a shed at old Fort Boise under the care of Monsieur Payette, the clerk in charge.
Over the scorched plains of the Snake, with a brigade of Hudson's Bay traders, into the cool groves of the Blue Mountains they rode. Tom McKay's excellent hunters brought down for them the elk and the antelope. On the last day of August, 1836, three days ahead of their party, Dr. and Mrs. Whitman galloped up to the gates of old Fort Walla Walla. Heralds had gone before, a watch was on the ramparts, the gates were open. Monsieur Pierre Pambrun, the courtly chief factor, assisted from her steed the pioneer of all white women across the hills to the River of the West. That night the wearied travellers slept in the west bastion, full of portholes and rilled with fire-arms. A great cannon, always loaded, stood behind the door. The water swished by the walls. The wind howled down
