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Page: of 436
GREENWOOD’S TRAIL
and Stanton dared not wait a single day before going back into the mountains with two of Sutter’s nisenan herdsmen and seven mules packed with
provisions. Somewhere in the great Utah desert McCutchen’s family and
others in the company were desperately in need of food.
In mid-October Stanton arrived at the headwaters of the Bear River
just as Lansford Hastings’ westbound company lowered the last of its
wagons into Bear Valley. As men and animals of both parties rested, two
men staggered into the camp, seemingly more dead than alive. At first
Stanton assumed they were strangers, but on closer inspection he was
shocked to recognize Jim Reed and Walter Herron, both members of the
company he hoped to aid. Astonished to find them in California when he
had supposed they were still in the desert, Stanton exclaimed:
“Jim! Walt! Are you all right? You look terrible!”
“Stanton—thank God!” Reed’s voice was scarcely more than a dry
whisper. “Food—we need food. Haven’t had a thing but roots and
beans—four beans!”
“Of course—can you make it over here to my camp? I’ve got plenty of
food. I was bringing it to the company. But where are they?”
“Far side of the mountains—on the desert.”
“I don’t understand,” said Stanton. “Where’s your family—your
wagons? How did you get separated?”
“Long story,” replied Reed, now busily engaged in eating biscuits and
coffee. He sighed before going on. Finally he said, “Snyder, blast his
hide—tried to kill me.”
Stanton couldn’t trust his ears. “What? Snyder tried to kill you? I can’t
believe it!” John Snyder was one of the best liked young men in the entire
company. The words didn’t ring true.
“It’s true. He hit me—hit my wife, too. I fought back, trying to save
my own life. Believe me, he tried to kill me!”
“What did you do?”
“Killed him—had no choice. I didn’t want to, but it was him or me.”
Stanton listened in shocked silence. He found it hard to imagine either
Snyder or Reed creating a disturbance, let alone a fight to the death.
Everything was insane—it didn’t seem possible for matters to have taken
such a hideous turn in the short time since he had left the train.
“Are you saying you killed Snyder and ran off from the train?”
“No! No, of course not!” exclaimed Reed, angrily. “They forced me
to go. . wanted—tried to stay—but some said they’d lynch me! The few
friends . have insisted 1 go—said they’d look after my family.”
“Good Lord, I can hardly credit it,” said Stanton, shaking his head in
wonder, “But what about you, Walt? Surely you weren’t in on this fight,
too?”
44