care. I have sent to the Willamette for Mr. Geiger to assist in the mission. He will be here shortly."
A wish from Dr. Whitman was a command with the chief factor. The warmest friendship subsisted between the two. His young wife, Sarah Julia, had become Mrs. Whitman's most intimate friend, neighbor, and pupil.
There was little sleep that night at Waiilatpu. With tears silently falling Mrs. Whitman put the last stitch in the buckskin garments. The food, the axe, the rifle, the medicine, horses, all were ready. Spalding and the rest had departed for their stations.
"The board may dismiss me, but I shall do what I can to save Oregon to my country," was Dr. Whitman's parting word.
With a single companion, Lovejoy, the lawyer, the intrepid doctor undertook a journey that well might daunt a less courageous heart.
What apprehensions surged through the soul of Mrs. Whitman as she turned from the farewell at the gate! She heard the hoof-beats die on the sod the riders melted into the tawny shadow of the grass. She reentered the lonely home; she paced from room to room. "Why do you cry?" said Mary Ann Bridger. "Will father be home to-morrow? "said Helen Mar.
Dr. Whitman set out on his famous ride October 3, 1842. In eleven days he reached Fort Hall. The Indians were returning from buffalo-hunting. Once, twice, thrice, the doctor sent letters to his wife. Each day she wrote a line to him, hoping for an opportunity to send it. Let us make a few extracts:
Oct. 4, 1842. MY DEAR HUSBAND, The line you sent me to-day by Aps did me great good. . . . Night and day shall my prayers ascend in your behalf, and the cause in which
