by Jan Drexler
The other travelers on the road grouped behind the line of wagons. Freighters, mostly, but a few emigrants like their group. Two roads had come together several miles before this point: the one their group followed from central Pennsylvania and then up the east bank of the Monongahela River, and another main road leading from Maryland into Pittsburgh. The closer they had come to the city where the rivers joined to form the Ohio, the more travelers they met on the road.
Andrew left his wagon and joined Jacob. “Can you see how they’re crossing from here? The river isn’t too rough, is it?”
“I heard the ferryman say the river is high because of spring rains, but he wasn’t worried. We’ll have to trust his judgment.”
Andrew stayed by his side as they watched the ferry crawl across the river. A tow rope was fastened to both riverbanks, threading through the ferry gear. A team of mules on the other side kept the ferry moving through the swell of brown water, even though the current pushed and pulled at the flat-bottomed raft, straining the tether rope. Daed’s big Conestoga wagon bucked with the straining ferry, but the horses stood still with a man at each of their heads. Jacob whooshed out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when the ferry reached the other side safely.
Andrew rubbed his hands on his trousers. “I’ll be glad when we’re all across and on the other side.”
“For sure. We’ll have to tether the sheep together to keep them from panicking.” Jacob glanced behind the line of passengers waiting to cross to where Peter stood near the road, using his goad to keep the sheep in the grass. Coming along the road behind him were three familiar men on horseback.
“The Bates brothers, again. They could have taken the bridge across, yet here they are. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were following us.”
Andrew glanced back at the familiar figures. “Almost every traveler heading to Pittsburgh and beyond has to take this ferry across, unless they’re going into the city itself. It might be only that they wanted to avoid the congestion.”
“Maybe, but they’re the only ones in this line who are traveling on horseback.”
Jacob kept watching as the three men rode past the line of people waiting, past the Schrocks’ wagon, then the Bontragers’. Cole didn’t look at Andrew and Jacob as they rode by, but Darrell grinned at them as he followed his brothers. They arrived at the ferry landing just as it returned full of travelers heading east. Cole approached the ferryman, and from his gestures, it appeared he wanted to go across before the rest of the people waiting for their turn. Their words didn’t travel beyond the noise of the river, but the ferryman was gesturing toward the road full of travelers. Cole reached into his pocket, pulling out a small leather sack.
Andrew rose to his toes for a better look.
Jacob wished he was as tall as his friend. “What is he doing?”
“It looks like he’s trying to give him money. He is trying to bribe his way to the front of the line.”
The bribe must have been refused, because the Bates brothers stepped back as the ferryman signaled for Eli Schrock to drive his wagon onto the ferry. Josef and Mattie’s brothers had ridden the ferry back across to help with the Schrocks’ horses. Each stood at the nose of one of the huge animals. As Jacob led Josef’s team to the front of the line, he could see the horses eyeing the rushing water under their feet, but with men’s calm words and soothing pats, they stood quietly.
Cole Bates stepped forward again. “Let us ride with the wagon. Three more won’t make that much difference.”
The ferryman, red-faced and frowning, turned to him. “I said no and I meant it. The water is too high to risk overloading the ferry. If you don’t like it, you can swim across, or go down to one of the bridges. Now get back in line and wait.”
As the ferry pushed off, Mattie’s face appeared at an opening in the back cover of the wagon and Jacob’s mouth went dry. But his concern changed directions when he saw Cole watching her. The outsider’s face slid into a grin, then he pushed his brothers toward the tavern at the side of the road.
“Take the horses over to the watering trough, Darrell. I’ll order us some ale while we’re waiting.”
The three disappeared behind the tavern as Andrew turned to Jacob.
“What do you think of that? They gave up pretty quickly, didn’t they?”
Jacob shifted his shoulders, releasing the tension that had built during the loading of the Schrocks’ wagon. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that Cole gave up trying to get across the river ahead of us when he saw Mattie in the wagon.”
Jacob focused his attention back on the ferry, but his thoughts stayed on the trio waiting at the tavern. He remembered the cat that lived in their barn back along the Conestoga Creek. For weeks, the cat had stalked a rat that had made its home under the horses’ feed trough. No matter what time of day, or what the activity was in the barn that winter, the cat had never stopped watching for that rat. She would shift positions, from the barn loft, to the door, to under the wagon, to the grain bin, always moving a bit closer to the rat’s hole. The funny thing was that the rat, cautious at first, got used to the cat’s presence and grew more careless in his forays out for food—until the day the cat pounced.
As the ferry approached the opposite landing safely, Jacob glanced at the tavern. Cole Bates leaned against the hitching post by the front door, a mug in his hand, and his eyes on the wagon that was disembarking from the ferry.
Mattie peered out of the back of the wagon as she felt the ferry leave the landing. Her stomach turned as the wagon tilted, then righted again as the barge made its way across the river. Somewhere on the landing, Jacob was waiting his turn to cross. She scanned the faces of the strangers, and then a familiar grin caught her attention. Cole Bates stood at the river’s edge, watching the ferry crossing. Not the ferry—her. When her eyes met his, he gave her a slow wink.
She dropped down to sit on the crate, her face heating at his boldness. It was a good thing the interior of the wagon was dim or else Naomi would be sure to ask why she was blushing. But instead, Emma passed a sleeping baby Rebecca to her.
“Mose and Menno won’t sit still. Could you please hold the baby for me?”
Mattie took Rebecca in her arms as Emma grasped her sons by their hands and pulled them down to sit next to her.
Mamm reached over to tap each boy once on his head. “The ferry crossing is dangerous enough without you boys running from one end of the wagon to the other.”
“But we’re on a boat,” Mose said.
“On a boat,” Menno repeated. “Across the ocean.”
“You can pretend all you like,” Emma said, “but only if you sit quietly while you do it.”
From her seat on the other side of Mamm, Miriam laughed. “I don’t know how you keep up with those boys, Emma.”
“Isaac helps, that’s for sure. He keeps them busy with chores.”
All conversation stopped as the wagon spun to the right. Mattie nearly screamed when Naomi grabbed her arm. After a long minute, the wagon righted itself again.
“We must have come to the stronger current in the middle of the river.” Mamm’s voice quavered a little but sounded calm. She squeezed Leah and Mary close to her. The three-year-old cousins smiled, safe in their grossmutti’s arms.
Even Mose and Menno were quiet for the rest of the crossing. Mattie watched baby Rebecca’s sleeping face, but her mind was on the scene on the landing they had just left. Cole’s appearance had been unexpected, but he hadn’t looked surprised. He had been pleased to see her, as if he had been searching for her.
As she felt her face heating again, Mattie tried to turn her thoughts in a different direction. Jacob would be crossing last with the sheep, and all the men would help. He would have to do something to keep the ewes from going into a panic at the sight of the rushing water, but Jacob could do it.
When would Cole and his brothers cross? They were on horseback and could cross at the same time as Jacob.
Matti
e forced her thoughts away from Cole Bates again, just as the wagon rocked, signaling their arrival on the far side of the river.
Emma kept her boys from jumping up to look out the end of the wagon as the noises outside told them that Daed was leading the horses off the ferry onto dry ground again, and it was all Mattie could do to keep herself seated. They were missing the most interesting sights, but she would be obedient and stay in the wagon.
“We want to watch the others cross,” Mose said. He kept his eyes on Emma’s face as his brother echoed his request.
Mattie passed Rebecca to Naomi. “We could lift the edge of the canvas and watch.” Mamm nodded her approval, so Mattie continued. “The boys can watch with me, as long as we all stay in the wagon.”
Mose and Menno grinned as they tumbled over the crates to join Mattie at the end of the wagon.
“Remember, we stay in the wagon.” Mattie loosened the canvas cover and lifted the edge, tying it on either side of their heads. The boys knelt on a crate and leaned over the tailgate while Mattie sat next to them, leaning her arm on the edge of the wooden plank to watch the ferry cross back to the other side of the river.
The remaining wagons made the crossing without any difficulty, and then it was time to bring the sheep across. From this distance, Mattie could only see that Jacob was keeping the flock bunched together, but she couldn’t see how. Sheep didn’t like moving water, and if one of them became frightened, the whole flock could go off the edge of the ferry and drown. Only a skilled shepherd would be able to get them across safely.
Andrew and some of the other men assisted, surrounding the sheep and keeping them bunched as Jacob led them onto the ferry. Once they were settled near the front, the operator let a spring wagon join them for the crossing, then cast off.
Watching the ferry from the safety of the riverbank, Mattie remembered each bump and swing of the barge from her own crossing. When the ferry reached the stronger current, it swung on the tether rope, but the pulley system linking the barge to both shores held firm, and it continued on its way. As it came closer, the baaing of the sheep carried across the water.
“Why are the sheep bleating so?” Mose asked.
Menno echoed his brother. “Bleating so?”
Mattie shifted so that she was kneeling between her nephews and put an arm around each one. “The poor sheep don’t like the water and they’re frightened. But Jacob and the others will take care of them.”
Mose pointed. “That one jumped off!”
Before Mattie could realize what was happening, Bam, the young ram, had slipped from Jacob’s grasp and run off the side of the ferry. Jacob threw off his hat and coat and jumped into the water after the sheep. Mamm and the others crowded behind Mattie and the boys, watching.
“That sheep is going to drown and take Jacob right along with him,” Miriam said.
Emma hushed her. “Let’s see what happens.”
“And pray,” Mamm said. “And pray.”
Mattie couldn’t move or think. Jacob’s head was a sleek, dark ball on the surface of the water, just a few yards from the riverbank, but the sheep was nowhere to be seen. He dove beneath the brown water, while Mattie held her breath, waiting for him to surface again. After long seconds, his head appeared again, but many yards downstream, nearly even with their wagon. This time he was near enough the shore to stand, clutching the young ram even as the current tried to pull it from his hands.
“I have to help him.” Mattie climbed out of the wagon, slipping from Naomi’s grasp.
As she ran toward the riverbank, she could hear Mamm’s faint voice telling her to stay out of the water, but it wasn’t necessary. Jacob reached the reeds at the river’s edge the same time she did, and she grabbed a handful of soaking wet wool and helped him heave the sheep out of the river and onto the bank, water dripping out of the ram’s thick wool coat. Jacob laid the animal on its side, and pressed its ribs, over again, and then again, until water poured out of Bam’s mouth and he tried to struggle to his feet.
Mattie grabbed the ram before he could run away, while Jacob sat back on his heels, coughing.
“Are you all right?”
Jacob nodded. He coughed once more, then tried to catch his breath. “I thought we had lost him.”
Mattie’s hands were shaking. “I thought we had lost you! What did you think you were doing, jumping into the river like that?”
Jacob looked at her then, his hair plastered on his forehead and in front of his eyes. He wiped it away. “I had to save Bam. He’s the only ram we have, and without him we don’t have a flock.”
“You could have drowned.” Her voice was shaking too.
He grinned at her. “Would you miss me if I had?”
“This is nothing to make jokes about.”
Jacob started to reach for her, then stopped, water dripping from his arms. “I can joke about it because everything is fine.”
Mattie bit her lip. Her fingers were still entwined in Bam’s wool, and the smell of wet sheep was overpowering.
“Mattie, look at me.”
She met his eyes as he touched the end of her nose with one finger. “I’m fine. There’s nothing to be upset about.”
The ferry had reached the shore and the rest of their group was running toward them over the stony road. With the sound of their feet, Mattie’s fear suddenly turned to a churning anger. “I’m not upset.” She stood, pushing Bam toward his shepherd. “If you want to care more about a stupid sheep than . . . than any of us, then so be it.” She started back toward the wagon.
“I know upset when I see it, Mattie.” His words carried after her. “You were worried. I know you were.”
Mattie grasped the high wagon wheel, ignoring her nephews’ questions and Mamm’s concern. Of course she had been worried. The churning anger had passed as quickly as it had come, and in its place was a relief that made her knees go weak.
She looked back at the crowd gathered around Jacob. His mamm had brought a blanket for him, and Andrew walked beside him toward the Yoder wagon. As they passed her, Jacob reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking off the drops of water. His eyes met hers, but instead of the mocking laughter she expected to see, the look he gave her held concern. She smiled, he returned it, and that quickly they were friends again.
11
They stopped for a late lunch after the river crossing. They had pushed on along the northern bank of the Ohio until they were well beyond the edge of Pittsburgh and finally halted where they found a sloped meadow leading up from the river. After receiving permission from the farm’s owner, the group set up a quick noon camp in the early afternoon sunlight.
Jacob and Andrew helped picket the horses between the wagons and the tree-covered bluffs, well away from the road and near a bubbling creek that rushed down the slope toward the river. Mattie and Johanna walked past them, carrying pails and giggling as they hurried on their errand. Jacob turned back to Andrew. His friend had a smile on his face as he watched them dip the pails into the water.
“I think dinner is ready.” Jacob turned toward the camp. He hoped Andrew would follow him, but the other man went toward the girls instead, reaching to take their full water pails from them. Jacob kept walking, Mattie’s laughter ringing in his ears.
Mamm and the other women had made a stew out of some crayfish Peter and the other boys had caught in an eddy where the creek nosed its way into the Ohio, along with some dried onions and string beans. Cornbread left over from the night before rounded out the meal. The whole camp served themselves from the common pot after the prayer.
Jacob took his bowl and spoon to the edge of the meadow where the sheep had settled themselves, resting in the grass. He found a rock to sit on and started his meal. As he ate, he gazed around the camp. Andrew was sitting between Mattie and Johanna on one of the benches. Naomi and Hannah sat on a quilt spread on the grass with their mothers, Mamm looking hot and uncomfortable. The rest of the families were scattered in a loose circle around t
he fire. The children had eaten quickly once they were served and had started a game of tag on the other side of the wagons. Younger children sat in their mothers’ laps, already nodding off. Even William had forgone the games and lay on the grass with his head in Mamm’s lap. The group would rest here for an hour or so before pushing on.
He couldn’t keep from watching Andrew. Whatever he was saying, he kept the girls laughing. Finally they went to help wash the dishes and left him sitting alone. Jacob finished his soup and took his bowl to the dishpan, but none of the girls seemed to notice him as he helped himself to one of the remaining pieces of cornbread and joined the circle of men resting in the shade of the wagons. Daed and a couple others were lying in the grass with their hats over their faces, but Jacob sat next to Josef as he talked with Mattie’s brothers, Isaac and Noah.
The conversation moved from planting methods to raising children, and Jacob’s mind drifted as Isaac and Noah debated the best age to start having their sons join them with the daily chores. His mind wandered when Isaac pointed out that Noah had only two daughters so far, so he should pay attention to his older brother’s experience. Jacob leaned back on his elbows and let his gaze move from group to group around the camp. The girls had finished washing the dishes and went toward the woods at the foot of the bluff, carrying pails. Hannah didn’t go with them but sat near Mamm and William. He leaned back into the long grass, relaxing into the soft bed. Josef brought up the question of whether oxen or horses were best for plowing, but Jacob let his eyes close and lost the train of the conversation.
He woke when Josef patted his knee.
“Time to get going. The noon hour is long past and we need more miles before we stop for the night.”
Jacob stretched and rose to his feet. The camp was bustling again, and voices rose in the warm light of early afternoon.
Daed walked past him on his way to their wagon. “Bring the horses up from their pickets, Jacob. Time to get going.”
