Sagebrush Serenade

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “Goodness! I have never seen anything so huge before,” Marcel cheered. “It should hold everything we own, and then some!”

  “Don’t count on it. It is already a fourth full of necessary supplies. We have to make room for a bed for you to sleep on. I got myself a tent to use. However, I hope you won’t be too disappointed. At least, it should hold most of the things you love so dearly. We will have to find help to move the piano, though.”

  “Oh thank you, Josiah!” Marcel squealed, as she threw her arms around her brother’s neck. I think this should do nicely!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  arcel marveled at how much they were able to fit in the oversized wagon. She was disappointed that not all of her grandmother’s treasured belongings fit, but enough of them to satisfy her, was secured inside, including the piano. What was left over, they sold, putting more money in their pockets to use on the journey or when they reached Oregon.

  “I am going miss St. Louis,” Marcel sighed when the house was locked securely and Josiah helped her up onto the bench.

  It had taken a whole day to pack the wagon and sell the remainder. Now it was time to start on that adventure, Josiah had promised. Only Marcel was not sure she wanted that kind of adventure. She suddenly felt frightened as the wagon groaned and the wheels creaked as soon as the mules pulled forward. People stopped and stared as the wagon lumbered through the streets. They had seen other covered wagons move through the town before, hauling belongings and families towards Independence, but never one this large or with so many mules pulling it. Usually, it was a team of four oxen or six mules that pulled smaller wagons, heading out for the west.

  The wagon swayed slightly as it trundled along with its precious cargo. It was almost like a huge ship, eager to sail the waves of green and gold prairie grass. Josiah was thankful to be on their way and leave all their financial worries behind. Once they reached Oregon, they could sell the wagon and team, then use the money to start building on their own house. Eventually, they could create their own memories when one or both of them got married and started families.

  It would take close to two weeks to reach Independence if nothing happened to slow down their progress. Only it wouldn’t be like following a rutted wagon trail toward Oregon since there were well-traveled roads between the two destinations. For about two-hundred-and-forty miles the huge wagon would follow along the Missouri river, to Jefferson City, which was around the half-way mark, after passing through many other small towns, first. Many more small towns would be left by the wayside, beyond that, until they reached Independence where all the immigrants were to converge before they started out in organized companies.

  By the time the wagon pulled into Independence, Marcel was beginning to believe she was becoming a well-seasoned traveler. She was learning to cook over a campfire when they stopped along the way. A few other travelers, going in the same direction, joined them. It gave them company and some of the more experienced women helped Marcel learn the rudiments of cooking over an open fire. They showed her how to bake in a reflector oven and how to hammer forked sticks in the ground on either side of the fire-pit, to place a cross-bar on to hold a pot of water over the fire. They all sat and chatted about their future expectations of what Oregon would offer them.

  However, when Marcel and Josiah’s wagon lumbered into Independence, it was pouring down rain. It didn’t look like it was going to let up, anytime soon, either. Other wagons, smaller than the ten-mule-team wagon, were gathered about. The heavy water-proof treated canvases that were stretched over the huge hoops of the wagons, were repelling the constant downpour, allowing the water to stream down the sides of the wagons, creating large puddles and miniature rivers around the wheels. Beneath the outer canvas was a lighter canvas, used more for insulation between the two sheets. Livestock and extra teams, stood about in the muddy field, where the group was gathered, their heads drooping in the rain. Other eager travelers were still arriving, in spite of the gloomy weather.

  “Where’d you get that wagon?” someone asked, Josiah as they slogged through the mud. “I’ve never seen a wagon that big. It must be plum full of everything you own!”

  “Including a piano,” Josiah laughed. “My sister couldn’t part with anything, so we elected to bring it all with us.”

  “Well, it will make a good beginning for your homestead, only I hear the way is rough and that much truck might be too heavy for your mules to pull up the hills.”

  “I was assured that ten mules would be plenty to pull this much weight,” Josiah responded.

  “Probably by the man who sold you the mules,” the man chuckled, slapping one of the wet mules on the rear. “You probably should have gotten ten oxen instead,” he laughed as he continued on his way, sloshing through the muddy field to his own wagon.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Marcel frowned. “We will be just fine with the team we have. If we need more, we will just have to buy more.”

  Josiah shrugged. Ten mules were about all he could handle, he thought. He was hoping she was right and they would get to Oregon all safe and sound. If they were forced to leave anything along the trail, to lighten the load, he didn’t think Marcel would stand for it. When Marcel got in a temper, he just didn’t want to be around to deal with it.

  For the whole week, the rain continued to fall. The wagon captain, Mr. Camden, was hoping for it to clear, but when there were no signs of the rain letting up, he made the decision to ford ahead. If they waited too long to start, they may get caught in bad weather later if it snowed early that year. Better to slosh through puddles of water than to be stuck in the snow and freeze to death, he told his company. They all took a vote and agreed to start out. One of the stipulations, in the flyer on rules and regulations, was that everything had to be voted on before anyone could proceed with a major decision.

  There were fifty wagons in all. Others had left before them, divided up into fifty wagons or less, so the train wouldn’t be so long, and they were the last group to leave. Independence was called the dropping off place because that was where the states dropped off and the territories began. After that, you took your chances in the wilderness of a little explored vast outstretch of land.

  “I think everyone is hating us already,” Josiah, mumbled, “cause our wagon is so slow.”

  “Had they had as many belongings as we do and knew where to get a big wagon, they would have used one too,” Marcel reasoned. “They are just jealous that we will be all ready to set up housekeeping, the moment our house is built, and won’t have to buy or make furniture.”

  “Whether it is jealousy or irritation, it doesn’t make a tinker’s damn of a difference. If someone is upset at you, then they are upset at you and you have to take the fallout,” Josiah grumbled.

  “Just the same, it is worth it to me in order to keep all my belongings and carry the memory of Grandmother and all her heirlooms with us,” Marcel sniffed.

  As their wagon pulled out, it made deeper ruts in the mud than any of the other wagons, as the mule team pulled it forward to follow the long line before them. However, Mr. Camden rode up to them and told them to fall out of the line and take up the last spot.

  “Seeing as how your wagon is so large, it is progressing slower than the rest of the wagons. We don’t want you holding up the train, but if you do fall behind, we will be leaving you space where you can pull into the circle at night,” he explained.

  “Now we are going to have to eat everyone else’s dust,” Josiah complained.

  “Well, for now, there isn’t much dust to eat,” Marcel pointed out, as she wiped the rainwater from her face with one gloved hand.

  As the other wagons passed them, their occupants all waved. Everyone seemed happy that they were to go ahead of the overwhelming wagon.

  Finally, it was their turn, only now the path was so muddy, being trampled by oxen, mules, and wagon wheels, alike, that it was harder going even for ten mules to pull their wagon through all that sludge.

  Be
cause of the effort, it took for the team to pull their load, the going was slow, Just as Captain Camden had predicted, and they were already falling behind. The mules seemed to be tiring out because of all the mud. It was hard for them to get footing to keep the wagon rolling. Josiah thought it was short of a miracle that they were able to pull the wagon at all under those kinds of conditions.

  When the company finally pulled in the circle, that evening, the overloaded wagon was at least a mile behind the rest. Once they arrived, most of the men travelers were already in their tents, the women sleeping in the wagons. There was no way to cook a meal in all that rain, so like every night before, Marcel and Josiah ate salt-pork, biscuits, and cheese, with an apple for dessert.

  Morning brought sunshine and everyone praised God or Moses, depending on their preference, and were now eager to continue their journey. The muddy hems of dresses and mud-covered boots began to dry out, the mud turning to dust instead. The weather was still a little nippy, but good for traveling because the teams pulling the wagons did not get too hot. The livestock brought by the various members were kept a short distance behind the train, about a half-mile back, and herded by drovers, but sometimes, the herd would end up passing Marcel and Josiah, because of the slow progress they were making.

  “At this rate,” Josiah complained, “You and I will end up getting stuck in the snow before we get there. We’ll never be able to keep up with the group.”

  “Don’t be so negative,” Marcel quipped. “We always get to the group eventually.”

  “Only by then, everyone is finished with their supper and in their wagons when we show up. It makes it difficult to cook and then gives us little time to rest, by the time we pull into the circle,” Josiah pointed out.

  “Don’t look at me that way, Josiah. I am not going to leave one piece of furniture or any of my belongings alongside the trail for some other traveler to pick up and take with them! You promised I could bring them and bring them, I will!”

  Josiah merely shook his head. He had not realized what he was getting into when he agreed to allow Marcel to bring a whole household full of belongings on their journey, which was turning out to be more difficult than he had expected.

  Everyone in the company was amazed at all the trees that met them in the low valley. They had never seen so many trees before. Most of the trees in the different towns of the states had been used for building houses or for firewood. The only other trees to be seen there were in fruit orchards or decorative trees positioned along roads, and trees clumped in small woods, that were often used for firewood. Now, it seemed to be a never-ending wooded area, on either side of the trail, there in the deep river valley until Kansas territory opened up into vast fields of grass over rolling hills as far as the eye could see.

  The group worked their way up through the grasslands toward Nebraska, where they would eventually, parallel the Mormon trail through Nebraska, on the other side of the Platte River, which would be followed, and on through part of Wyoming territory, where the two trails would veer off from each other. The Mormon trail going toward Utah and the other toward Oregon.

  At the moment, the wagons were just arriving along the banks of the Big Blue River. Captain Camden informed everyone they would have to cross over the Big Blue so they could head up to the Platte. The banks were so steep going down toward the river, there was no way the oxen or mules could go down the banks with the wagons. That meant all oxen and mules were to be taken off the wagons first, so the wagons could be lowered down by ropes.

  By the time Marcel and Josiah caught up with the rest, the last wagon was being lowered down the bank. The drovers were getting ready to herd all the livestock, oxen and mules across the river first, and were a little perturbed that they had to wait for Josiah to unhitch his mules. Once the livestock was on the other side, the drovers tied ropes from the oxen to each wagon, to be pulled across the river before they could hitch up the teams again.

  It took the rest of the day to pull the wagons across and twice as many oxen to pull Marcel and Josiah’s wagon across to the other side. Then there was the chore of putting all the rigging back on the teams to pull the wagons again, so the group decided to just camp on the other side of Big Blue the night and start out the next day again.

  It was nice visiting with the other travelers while they fixed the evening meal. When supper was finished, people started getting out their instruments and began playing together. Since they were gathered fairly close to where Marcel’s wagon was parked, she climbed up inside, rolled up one side of the canvas and started playing her piano along with the rest. Everyone was shocked that she had actually brought a piano with her, in their huge wagon, but they did enjoy the music she added to the band.

  When morning came, the teams were hooked up again, and the group started out in the direction of the Platte. Although the weather had been sunny for several days, now dark clouds were forming, and Captain Camden suggested they make a circle before the storm blew up. Luckily, Marcel and Josiah hadn’t fallen behind yet so they were able to join the circle.

  The wind was whipping up, so there was no way to start fires to cook on. The drovers had a hard time herding the animals into the center of the circle before they closed the gap with the last wagon. In the distance, sharp fingers of lightning knifed the sky followed by a clap of thunder that made the animals uneasy.

  The members huddled in their separate wagons. Some had tried to put up tents, but the wind just tore at them and blew them away. When the clouds were ripped opened by a slash of lightning and huge clap of thunder, rain came down in torrents, surprising them all. The horses and other livestock were so spooked, they started running through the camp and managed to tip a couple of lighter wagons over, in their attempts to escape their confines. The drovers, swearing under their breaths, managed to calm the horses and the whole group waited out the storm inside their wagons. However, the wind was so strong, that it managed to blow some of the canvases from a few wagons, causing all the contents inside to get soaked.

  When the storm finally let up, everyone had to count their losses, right the wagons, replace the canvases, hunt down the tents, and a few stray horses, that made their way out of the circle, before they could start out again. Marcel felt herself lucky that their canvas remained intact and her piano and the rest of her belongings did not get wet like many other people’s belongings had.

  The ground managed to soak up the rain well enough so it wasn’t that muddy when they started out again. Eventually, they reached the Platte where they veered their wagons and began to follow along on the high banks. Where the wagons were, it was mostly plains and grassland with some scrub-brush. Down by the river, all the trees hugged the bank. The flowers grew everywhere with all other variety of plants. Fern, cattails and tall ornamental grasses, along with vines and bushes were growing thick along the edge of the water. Marcel was amazed at all the thick vegetation. When they stoped to fill their barrels, they could barely get to the river through the thickness of it all. Birds were going crazy in the branches, competing with each other, while frogs along the banks were singing their own songs.

  As before, Marcel and Josiah started falling farther behind. The rest of the company were so far ahead, Josiah was starting to worry. The company was becoming more anxious about having to leave a space in the circle for them. Captain Camden informed them they would soon be entering Sioux country. The circle had to be tighted at night to protect the livestock, which would have to be kept on the inside of the circle so the Indians did not steal them or shoot them.

  “If you keep lagging behind, we won’t be keeping a place open for you. Either you have to work your mules harder or get rid of some of the weight in your wagon. “You’re going to end up killing those mules if you push them any harder, though.”

  Josiah gave Marcel a perturbed glare. “You have to make a decision here, Marcel. We can’t keep trucking all your hoard with us. You will have to choose what you are willing to part with, and leave it behin
d.”

  “I will do no such thing. I was told the Sioux are sometimes friendly. Besides, even if they stopped us, what would they ever do with our belongings? They live in teepees for heaven’s sake! We don’t have any livestock except for the mules. I’ve never known an Indian to ride a mule, have you?”

  “When was the last time you ever met a Sioux Indian? You know nothing about them,” Josiah frowned.

  “It doesn’t matter. I am not going to leave anything behind, and that is final.”

  “If the Captain takes a vote and they won’t let us in the circle, we will end up having to take this journey all alone,” Josiah pointed out.

  “We will just have to park on the outside of the circle, then,” Marcel stated.

  “With no way to put the mules on the inside of the circle during the night? That is when the Indians like to raid wagon trains.”

  “The flyer insisted the trip would be safe because there are several forts along the way with people who can control the Indians,” Marcel said cheerfully.

  “No one can control all the Indians, Marcel. Don’t be so naive.”

  “We will just have to take our chances, then,” she insisted.

  Marcel did not want to listen to Josiah complaining. She hadn’t wanted to take the trek to Oregon in the first place and the only thing that could appease her was keeping all her belongings. She climbed back into the wagon and opened the cover to the piano, sitting on a barrel of flour, and began to play as the wagon continued to trudge forward.

  Josiah loved hearing Marcel play the piano, but at the moment, it only reminded him that they had to haul that piano all the way to Oregon, along with everything else Marcel refused to part with. It only made him scowl when she started playing because it was her way of ignoring him or listening to reason.

  When they pulled up to the circle that night, there was no space left for them to join. Mr. Camden was there to meet them.