In quick terror he called to a boy working at a wagon near by.
"Go for Bishop Wright and tell him to bring that apothecary with him." The two came up briskly a few moments later, and he stood aside for them in an agony of suspense.

The Bishop turned toward him after a long look into the wagon.
"She's gone to be with your pa, Joel.

You can't do anything--only remember they're both happy now for bein' together." It made little stir in the busy encampment.

There had been other deaths while they lay out on the marshy river flats.

Others of the sorry band were now sick unto death, and many more would die on the long march across the Iowa prairie, dropping out one by one of fever, starvation, exposure.