My brother, Liam, died today just days from the mountains he longed to see. He drowned while crossing a stream swollen by a storm. The wagon he was driving overturned, and his body was caught beneath it. With a heavy heart, we gave him a Christian burial as the sun set. God give him rest. I am now the only remaining member of my family. I will stay with the train until we reach the mountains that are now in sight. Our scout reports we will stop at a lake on the edge of the mountains and stay there several nights to rest and refill the water barrels before taking the southern route to California. He said it would be a fine location for a trading post since the Ute would willingly trade deer and beaver skins for our goods. I will make the decision when we arrive there, but I am weary of travel and I wish to be close to where my brother lies... From the Journal of Angus Monroe ANDY REREAD SARA’S chosen selections in hard copy.
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