Laurel Hill

We were at the top of Laurel Hill. All our belongings were tied down in our wagon, and strong ropes were tightly tied to the back of the wagon, then wrapped around the biggest trees. Nobody could ride down Laurel Hill -- too dangerous. We would be thankful to get our wagon down in one piece. I could see the belongings of travelers before us, scattered among the ferns and rocks, too steep to cross over and fetch them. 

 

The Chute on Laurel Hill, Licensed to the Public Domain.

I stood with the women and we watched - and yes we prayed too, as the men took the ropes at the back end and the oxen at the front end in hand, and began the slow, careful work to let our wagon down to the bottom of Laurel Hill. Wagons already at the bottom of the hill were forming up on the trail.

Just then our wagon went over the steep edge, held back by ropes around trees and dragging a large log behind to slow the descent. Once over the crest, it looked as if our wagon was pointing straight down. Edward's guide book says it is a 60% incline of over 2,000 feet from the crest to the base of the hill. To me it just looked impossible. Suddenly, a small object flew out of the front of our wagon. I couldn't see it among the ferns. What had not been tied down? 

Oh no! It must be what I was reading while riding the wagon yesterday. I was in a hurry to make dinner when we stopped. I thrust my small New Testament and Psalms under the wagon seat, meaning to put it away later.

My best friend Louisa Martin, back in Iowa gave it to me, and said it would be helpful if hard times came to us. After Ma drowned, I read every night, where Jesus says he is going to make a place for us, so we can be with him after we die. Ma and Pa never had a chance to go to school, and they made us all go to school as kids. That New Testament was my only book. 

My eyes were leaking tears when I understood I wouldn't be getting it back. At least I still had the parts I already memorized.