the United States Senate for final action during the session of 1842–1843.
Whitman was a man of few words, and quick action. He pondered deeply. He felt that a climax was impending, and in the contest Oregon was to be lost or won for his country. I do not stop to argue whether it was simply the call of patriotism of the man as an American, or whether, like the men of old, "he was called of God," but when we remember the perils to be met, the sacrifices to be made, and none knew them better than Whitman, I cannot believe that so clear-headed a man would ever have entertained the idea, if he had not heard and obeyed a call higher and more commanding than that of man!
He laid the matter before his wife, his chief counselor, that he fondly loved and cherished. The two were as one. They had met dangers and hardships, sacrifices and sorrows, together for seven years. This meant separation and dangers unknown to both for a whole year, during which not a line or a word could pass between them to tell of the fate of the other. Words would fail to express or picture that September conference in the wilds of Oregon if it had ever been written. But Narcissa Whitman was the same heroic woman who years before sacrificed the ease of civilized life and rode on horseback across the dreary plains, climbed
