An Oregon Trail Story

As Samuel lay there waiting to fall asleep, he was proud of his family. Elizabeth hadn't seemed as excited as he was, but she hadn't complained. Mary had helped her mother fix their meals, and seemed excited by what she'd seen along the trail. Martin was becoming a man, and wouldn't sit still for being treated like a child anymore. The last few miles, Samuel had let him drive the oxen, and he'd done a good job.

Jed had done a good job too by keeping the cattle right behind the wagon. Cattle were known for being obstinate sometimes, but Jed had kept them together and moving when they wanted to stop and graze.

Morning was announced by the clanging of a spoon in a large kettle by the wagon master. Elizabeth prepared biscuits by the light of a lantern while Samuel and Martin built a fire. Her dutch oven baked them almost as fast as her oven back home, and they went well with the slices of ham Mary fried. By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, breakfast was done, the oxen were yoked, and Jed had the cattle standing behind the wagon. The wagons moved out at the command of the wagon master and slowly trundled over the rough, rutted road.

After two days, Samuel was confident in Martin's ability to drive the oxen. He picked up his rifle and walked away over the plains to hunt. He came back two hours later with the rear quarters of a pronghorn antelope slung over his shoulders. That night, they had their first taste of the wild game that would eke out their food supplies. Samuel thought it was a little like mutton. Mary and Martin said it wasn't as good as beef, but was still good. Elizabeth ate it because she was hungry, but wished she'd had a proper stove to roast it with potatoes and carrots. Jed said it was the best antelope he'd ever tasted. Elizabeth was certain it was also the first, but his compliment made her feel a little better.

On Thursday evening of that week, the wagon train reached the Kansas River. At a meeting of the men in the camp that night, the wagon master explained the river was too deep to ford and they'd have to use the ferry. The fee for the ferry was five dollars a wagon and fifty cents for each head of horses and cattle. He'd keep the wagons camped on the other side until all hundred had made it across.

When their turn for the ferry came that afternoon, Samuel paid the thirteen dollars and drove the wagon onto the ferry. Elizabeth was terrified by the trip. The current of the river swung the ferry raft in an arc down the river and caused the ropes to stretch frightfully. She had never liked being on the water, and seeing the raft drifting down stream filled her mind with visions of the raft tumbling over and drowning them all. She clasped her arms around Mary and Martin, somewhat to protect them but mostly to make herself a little less afraid. Her heart pounded away in fear until the raft bumped onto the platform on the other side of the river and she didn't wait for Samuel to drive the wagon off the ferry. She walked quickly onto the platform and pulled Mary and Martin after her.

Jed followed on the next trip with the cattle, and once they were all safely on shore, Samuel spoke to the oxen and started them toward the encampment.

Saturday was another long drive from sunup to sunset and as Elizabeth cooked supper that night, she was looking forward to Sunday. She assumed since there was a preacher and his wife traveling in the wagon train there would be a church service and a day of rest. She was dismayed when the same clanging of the pot announced morning the next day. There was a church service, about a half an hour long just after breakfast, but then the wagon master started the wagon train on the road again.

Day in and day out it was the same. They woke to the clanging of a kettle. The men would see to the livestock while the women made something to eat. Once the first rays of the sun peeped over the horizon, the wagon master would start the wagon train on its way. They would walk until dusk except for a brief stop for a noon meal. Samuel would hunt every other day while Martin drove the oxen. The countryside would pass slowly by. The only diversions in this routine were the obstacles the wagon train had to pass.

One such obstacle was the Big Blue River. Unlike the Kansas River, there was not yet a ferry across the river. The Big Blue wasn't as deep as the Kansas, but it was too deep to ford with a wagon. The men of the wagon train spent a day cutting cottonwood trees and lashing them under the wagons, then caulked all the wagon bed seams to prevent leakage from splashing water. The wagons were unloaded and the canvas covers removed, then pushed into the water and pulled across the river by a rope pulled by oxen the men swam to the other side. The contents of the wagons was wrapped tightly in the canvas top from the wagon and then pulled across the river on log rafts as were the people. Livestock were herded together to make the swim from one side to the other

Crossing the Big Blue had taken almost four days, so Elizabeth had only to prepare meals and care for the hens and rooster. She was happy for the rest. She still trusted in Samuel's judgement that moving to Oregon was a good thing, but she'd never been so tired in her life. She knew the other people in the wagon train were just as tired. She had expected there might be talk around the fires at night or maybe a dance on some nights, but that had not happened. The people just ate and then went to bed.

Elizabeth knew Samuel was tired as well. She and Samuel had agreed that sex would not be possible during the trip since the children would be sleeping in the wagon with them. It would also have been risky for her to become pregnant during the trip. Still, she had liked the kisses he'd given her the first few nights and she liked the way he sometimes touched her when the children and Jed weren't looking. That had all stopped after three days. Samuel was so tired he often nodded off while eating.

On and on the wagon train rolled across the prairie of Kansas. The prairie grasses seemed to grow faster than the buffalo they often saw could eat them. By the first of May, the grass was so tall only a man's hat was visible as he trudged along. The canvas tops of the wagons had been bleached white by the blazing sun and on the rare occasions Elizabeth sat in the wagon seat, they looked like the picture of ships on the ocean that hung in her mother's house.

I was easy for a child to become lost in the tall grass, and that did happen one afternoon to the Brown family. Their eight year old son was chasing a rabbit when last seen, but after half an hour, his mother realized he was gone. The Brown's pulled their wagon to the side and began to search.

As Samuel passed by, he asked why they had stopped and upon learning the reason, pulled their wagon aside as well. Four other families did the same and the group commenced to search. After two hours, they found the boy lying down and crying. His mother scolded him, then hugged him to her breast.

Half an hour later, the group of six wagons started after the wagon train and arrived an hour after darkness had fallen over the prairie. Only the ruts in the trail and the lights of the campfires had enabled them to find the camp. Elizabeth sternly cautioned Mary and Martin about leaving the wagon. She knew if they hadn't found the boy before dark, he would probably have not survived the night. They often heard the howling of wolves now once the night turned black. Even a grown man would probably be killed by wolves, much less a small boy.

It was two weeks later, just after the wagon train had passed Chimney Rock, that Mary cried out in pain and then limped to where Elizabeth walked beside the wagon. Elizabeth knelt down and asked Mary what had happened. Mary lifted the hem of her dress and revealed two small bleeding punctures on her right calf.

"I heard a noise and went to see what it was. It was a snake, a big snake, and it bit me. It hurts, Mother, it hurts really badly."

Elizabeth yelled at Samuel to stop the wagon. When he saw Mary's wound, he asked Jed to run and fetch the doctor.

Jed and the doctor arrived several minutes later by which time Mary's leg had swollen to twice it's normal size and she was moaning in pain. Dr. Hayes took one look at the wound and then reached into his leather bag. He took out two bottles, one of whiskey and the other containing a clear liquid.

"I will treat the wound with ammonia to neutralize the poison", he explained. "You must make her drink as much of this whiskey as possible if she is to recover."

Elizabeth explained she did not believe in adults drinking whiskey, much less a child. The doctor nodded his head.

"I understand, Ma'am, but in this case, whiskey is a medicine. She must drink it in order to have a chance."

While Dr. Hayes applied the ammonia to the two wounds, Elizabeth held the bottle to Mary's lips.

"Drink this, Mary. The doctor says you must."

Mary took a small sip, then coughed and sputtered.

"It is awful, Mother."

"I know, child, but you must drink as much as you can."

As Mary drank more and then lapsed into a coughing fit, Jed asked the doctor about using gunpowder and eggs as a poultice. The doctor smiled.

"Young man, though that old remedy is still used by some, medical science has been proven it to be ineffective. The only remedies approved by any knowledgeable medical man these days are what I have just given the child. I will admit it has had limited success, but it is the best thing for her, and is the best I can do. Her fate is in God's hands now."

After drinking nearly half the bottle of whiskey and coughing up a lot of it, Mary fell asleep. Samuel carried her to the wagon and placed her on the bed. Elizabeth sat down beside the child to watch her through the rest of the day.

Samuel started the oxen forward again in order to catch up with the rest of the wagons. Elizabeth held Mary's hand and prayed to God to save the girl's life. When they arrived at the circle of wagons, Elizabeth was still praying. Samuel, Martin, and Jed made a supper of cold ham and raw carrots washed down with water. Samuel brought three blankets from the wagon and he and Jed slept that night beside the fire.

Try as she might, Elizabeth couldn't stay awake all night. Samuel found her the next morning kneeling on the floor of the wagon with her arm around Mary and her head resting beside the girl. Tears came to his eyes as he felt Mary's forehead. It was cool. He felt Mary's chest and detected no heartbeat. Their daughter had passed on to her reward. Gently, he shook Elizabeth and told her.

It seemed cruel to Elizabeth to have her only daughter buried without a coffin. She had wept until she could weep no more, and then stood numbly as the men dug a grave beside the trail. She barely heard the words Reverend Mitchell said before he and the doctor lowered Mary's body into the shallow grave. She turned away as they began shoveling the dark soil of Kansas into the hole.

Mary was so young, and had so much of her life ahead of her, a life that had been taken by a creature of the Devil. Was this what God had planned, that Elizabeth would be robbed of her daughter because of some past transgression? Elizabeth tried to think of something she had done in the past that would cause such punishment against her. She found nothing she believed would do that, but surely there was something.

Was this her payment for searching for a better life? That must be it. God had intended for her family to remain poor but pious, and in trying to better themselves had upset that intention. The cost of that better life was Mary's young life.

At the sound of the rough cross made of cut branches being driven into the ground, Elizabeth turned back to Mary's grave. The low mound of earth had been covered by rocks to keep the wolves and other animals from digging it up. She walked to the cross and touched it. That rough cross would be the only mark her Mary left on the world, and then only her name carved into the side of the crossed branch.

Over the days that followed, Elizabeth grieved their loss, then accepted it as God's will, and finally began to understand that it was God's way of testing her belief in that will and her belief that all things happen for a purpose. She did not know what that purpose was. Perhaps God needed another angel, she thought, and then imagined Mary with a golden halo and pure white wings. Mary would make a good angel, she thought. The girl had never been any trouble at all. She was always good and polite to others.

Two weeks later, the wagon train reached Independence Rock, but passed on by. There was little grass for the livestock and without grass, the oxen would weaken. They found grass two days later, and the wagon master called a halt for two days so the livestock could rest and eat their fill. Samuel took advantage of the time to replace the rear wagon axle. It had cracked after going over a large rock in the trail. Samuel had lashed the crack with rope as a temporary repair, but now used the spare axle he'd bought to replace it.

Jed kept mostly to himself except for helping to replace the axle. Elizabeth thought him a little standoffish. It was true he had only joined them for the free passage to Oregon he'd earn for his work, but he seemed to want to stay by himself. He slept under the wagon at night, and while he always said her cooking was really good, he preferred not to eat with them. She couldn't understand why unless it was that he felt as if hired help shouldn't be friends with the employer. Samuel had felt that way about their landlord in Missouri.

Jed knew the reason, a reason he could never tell anyone. Two years before coming to Independence, he'd gotten into a fight over a woman. He was taller and heavier than the other man, and had been winning the fight when one of his punches knocked the man backwards. The man had fallen and hit his head on the iron tire of a wagon. Jed had rushed to the man's side thinking to boast he had won the fight and the woman. Instead, he found the man gasping his last breath. Jed had run then, just picked up some clothes and blankets and started walking west. He knew he'd be charged with murder and hung if he was caught.

He'd had a beard then, but shaved it off when he got to Independence. He'd also let his hair grow until it brushed his shoulders. He was glad he'd done both. Three weeks before Samuel had hired him, he'd seen a wanted poster on the wall outside the marshal's office in Independence. The drawing of the man on the poster was him and he was wanted for murder. The reward was a hundred dollars. Jed knew he had to leave Independence as soon as possible, but at his wage of two dollars a day, would never be able to save enough money for what would be required.

No, he couldn't tell anyone, and especially he couldn't tell the Crocker family. They were a kind, church-going family. If they knew of his past, they'd make him leave. He knew if he became friendly with them, sooner or later they would want to know his past and he wouldn't be able to lie about it. The murder had really been an accident, but they wouldn't understand that. His only hope was to keep to himself until they reached Oregon, then take his parcel of land and start his life over.

On July 4, the Wagon Master said they were nearing Soda Springs. They wouldn't camp there because the water was too alkali for people or animals, but it marked a little over half their journey. The next day, they passed Soda Springs and continued on until they found a small stream with good water and good grass for the livestock. That night, Mrs. Breedan gave birth to a daughter and all the women in the wagon train came by to see her.

Elizabeth felt a lump in her throat when she remembered that Mary had looked the same way when she was born. The little girl was still very ruddy and her tiny cheeks pumped in and out as she nursed at Mrs. Breedan's breast.

Mrs. Breedan was worried, or so she told Elizabeth and the other women. When her other children were born, she'd had milk two or three days earlier. This time, there was none. Little Chloe was trying to nurse, but didn't seem to be bringing the milk down. Dr. Hayes said Mrs. Breedan was quite worn down, but if she started eating more, the milk would come. He suggested in the meantime she should feed Chloe with cow's milk. He had brought along a glass bottle with rubber nipple for just such a happening as he'd heard of the same thing in a letter from another doctor who had made the trip the year before. He lent it to Mrs. Breedan with instructions to clean both the bottle and the nipple well after each feeding. Elizabeth volunteered some of Jewel's rich milk and Mrs. Breedan accepted her offer.

Elizabeth stayed with Mrs. Breedan on and off for the next three days and brought a small pail of fresh milk three times a day. Chloe did not like the rubber nipple and took little milk at each feeding. After a day, she began to cry constantly and Elizabeth took to holding the tiny girl in order to give some respite to Mrs. Breedan. After three more days, Chloe became silent and Elizabeth could see the little girl was wasting away. When she took milk to Mrs. Breedan the next afternoon, the woman was sitting on the wagon seat and holding the baby tightly to her breast.

Elizabeth could see by her color that the baby was dead. She climbed up on the wagon seat and put her arms around Mrs. Breedan. The woman was not crying. She only stared out at the expanse of the prairie, and didn't seem to even recognize that Elizabeth was there. Elizabeth asked if she could hold Chloe for her. Mrs. Breedan turned then and her face was blank as she spoke.

"No. Chloe must stay with me from now on. I'll never let her go again."

Elizabeth tried to explain that Chloe was gone.

"Mrs. Breedan, Chloe is...Chloe has gone to be with God."

"No she hasn't. She's just sleeping. When she wakes up, I'll have milk for her. I dreamed it last night."

"Very well, I'll just stay here with you until she wakes up. Would that be all right with you?"

Mrs. Breedan looked at Elizabeth and smiled.

"Chloe and I would like that."

The other wagons passed them by, and Samuel stopped their wagon behind that of the Breedan's. He and Mr. Breedan talked for a while, and then Samuel walked up to where Elizabeth sat. Elizabeth climbed down from the wagon seat and led Samuel to the rear. When she stopped walking, she had tears in her eyes.

"Mrs. Breedan's little Chloe is dead."

"I know. Mr. Breedan told me that and that he can't get Mrs. Breedan to let her go. We need to bury the baby and get started again."

"I know, but she needs some time to understand. You and Mr. Breedan start the wagons. I'll ride with Mrs. Breedan."

Two hours later, Mr. Breedan and Samuel drove their wagons into their spots at the rear of the train. Samuel and Jed un-yolked the oxen and Jed drove them to the grazing ground. When Samuel walked to help Mr. Breedan, Elizabeth got down from the wagon seat.

"Mrs. Breedan understands now. I told her our Mary would take care of Chloe in Heaven, and she seemed to accept that. Samuel, I buried Mary without a coffin. I won't let that happen with Chloe. Find some way to make one, and bring me Mary's baby dress from my hope chest. Mary doesn't need it anymore and Chloe deserves to go to her Maker in more than a blanket."

Finding a carpenter to make a coffin wasn't a problem. Finding wood in the area was. Samuel made the rounds of each wagon and explained the reason for his visit. Every family donated a small scrap of wood, be it the top of a now empty food crate or a small piece split off a wagon tail gate. The women dug into their boxes of clothing and rags and donated small pieces of fabric. Most of it wasn't what would normally line a coffin, but it was all they had.