by Rita Hestand
Cully eyed her sharply but knowing Bertha's soft heart it was hard to be so cynical. "If they ask, maybe. It doesn't mean they'd believe me."
Bertha folded her arms over her chest and frowned at him.
"Bertha," he looked at her now, and something softened in his eyes. "Okay, I promise to get them there in one piece, but I can't promise anymore. You understand?"
Bertha nodded. "I'll worry about this until you return."
"Look, it's bad enough I'll be fighting Indians, outlaws, and weather, plus wagons breaking down, swollen rivers. Now you want me to nurse maid them. Besides, you know how women are when you tell them they are wrong!"
Bertha chuckled. "Cully."
When Cully didn't say any more, Bertha went on. "She looked capable to me, I just want you to warn them what they are in for. That's all. They can make up their minds about it themselves, but they must know, Cully. Think about it, how could they know?"
"And I'm the one to tell them I suppose? You honestly think they'd believe me? They don't know a thing about me, Bertha. What makes you think they'd listen to me?"
"Well dear, who else?" She shrugged.
He wiped his mouth once more and put the napkin on the table. "I'll do what I can. But no promises. Okay. Now I got a get a few things before I head out tomorrow, so I'll see you in a bit…" Cully kissed the top of her head and ran out the door before Bertha could come up with any more ideas.
He knew instinctively that Bertha was right about it, but he fought it because he knew the women would when he told them. So, what was the use of telling them anything? He was sure they wouldn't listen.
Still, knowing what he knew, it wouldn't be fair not to share the knowledge with them. Maybe he should say something before they left. Of course, he might talk himself out of a job too!
He'd think on it.
Chapter Three
The next morning, the sun was shining brightly, waking Cully up early. He got up and packed up a pack horse, loading it with extra wheel parts, bear grease, and one thing he wanted for himself, coffee. He grinned at himself, but without a decent cup of coffee, he couldn't make a day. It was a given, all wagon masters needed was a good cup of coffee to keep them going. Satisfied he headed out to the road.
Bertha had fixed him a big breakfast and he was looking forward to working again.
He'd decided he wouldn't be telling them anything unless they asked. It wasn't his business. He'd keep it that way.
He brought along his dog. Slug, was a part German Sheppard, and part wolf.
Slug kept up with him and they seemed tuned to one another.
As he approached the rear wagons he nodded to the driver, a pretty young woman, with brown flowing hair and dark brown eyes smiled at him with a flirty nature.
One of the men was standing beside her wagon. He approached him. He seemed more than a little interested in the woman. Cully would deal with that later. "I'm Cully, wagon master." He introduced himself to the man.
The man tipping his hat, "That your dog?"
"Yeah, that's Slug. He's well trained but friendly to most. He can smell a rat though at twenty paces the two legged or four legged."
The man chuckled. The man was lean, about his own age, and quite handsome in a rugged sort of way. He had dark wavy hair and brown eyes that searched him up and down.
"I figured you'd be old and rusty." The man said.
"Sorry, give me some time." Cully chuckled and rode off toward the head of the wagons, Slug following.
He made note that most wagons had oxen, that was good. At least they'd made the right choice there.
He passed a lot of wagons on the way, tipping his hat to some of the women who smiled. Some wagons had two women or more, one had children.
When he arrived at the head wagon, he found Abigail Ashford riding a horse alongside the wagon, a pretty blond was driving the wagon and she was all smiles as he rode up.
"Can we gather everyone around." Cully asked. Slug laid down not far from Cully.
"Sure," Abby motioned for everyone to come to the front wagon. The women approached with a bit of hesitation, eyeing Cully with indifference.
Women, all sizes, shapes and colors came. There was a Mexican woman, what looked to be an Italian woman, and three black women. The rest were white. But there was more than twenty-five, a lot more. That was his first question.
"How many people do you actually have?" Cully turned his attention back to Abigail.
"Fifty-seven." The man he'd just met came up from behind and folded his arms over his chest, prepared to listen to his speech.
Fifty-seven, he murmured to himself.
He glanced at Abigail who bowed her head and turned a bright red.
Cully watched them. Three children followed an older woman, the three men came up the rear.
"Well now, my name is Cully, and I'm your new wagon master. Miss Ashford hired me to take you all to California. I gotta tell you I don't think it's a wise place to settle, but it's not my business. California is beautiful, breath-taking. However, don't let its beauty fool you. It's full of no accounts who want to get rich quick too. Now," he looked out over the crowd, familiarizing himself with the women and the men. "My business is to get you there, and I will do it. But since most of you are women, I feel I should tell you, this won't be some joy ride. We'll fight outlaws, weather, swollen rivers and disease. Maybe even a few Indians. Now come to think of it, is there a doctor along?"
"I'm a doctor," one of the men spoke up. "The name's Ralph Tatum. I'm also quite a handyman too. And I can treat animals as well as humans." He was a stocky built man of around forty and in good shape, it would seem.
"Well, that's a relief, glad to have you along sir." Cully smiled.
"Anyone handling the remuda?" Cully asked.
"I usually do," a young cowboy spoke up. He was very young, but tough looking, lean and powerfully built too. Cully could tell the boy was going to be an asset. Boys didn't get muscles like that doing nothing.
"What's your name?"
"They call me Slim, Slim Richardson." He told him.
"Good, are you good with horses and oxen?" Cully asked him.
"I've broke and handled them since I was a kid." Slim replied. "I’m right handy with almost any animal. Nice looking dog, you got there."
Cully glanced at Slug and smiled, "He's my side-kick, you might say. He's friendly unless you got something to hide, then you might not like him. His name is Slug and he'll be around."
Slim chuckled.
"Slim, what kind of animals do we have?"
"We got fifty oxen, and twenty mules and sixteen horses. We got a small herd of cattle, and chickens."
"How many wagons are pulled by the oxen?" Cully asked.
"Twenty."
"Good, right now they will be more useful in this weather and along this side of the trip. When we get to the desert, headed for California, I want you to hook up the mules for traveling through it. Oxen don't take to the heat like Mules can stand it. Horses are good, but they must be pampered. So, we might trade some of those horses we don't need for mules."
Slim nodded, "I agree, sir."
"Alright, anyone been scouting for this bunch?" Cully asked.
"I generally do." The man he met earlier declared.
"Well sir, you won't now."
The man frowned, until Cully finished his speech. "You'll oversee leading the wagons and seeing they are corralled for the night. We'll draw them in a circle at night for camping until we head for the south. In the mountains there will be places we can't do that, because of the number of trees."
"I thought that was the wagon master's job?" He chuckled.
"How many times you been to California?" Cully asked the man.
"None, but…."
"What's your name?"
"Johnny Williams."
"Well Johnny, I've been up this trail about seven times all told. I know what to look for, where to look for it, and how to find water when there isn't any. So, I'll do the sc
outing for now. But I do intend to pick up a scout along the way. Somewhere. You'll take orders from me, Johnny, and you'll lead the wagons and check all the way to the rear always during the day. Understood?" Cully firmed his lips in a challenge.
Johnny Williams nodded, "Understood. Better job than scouting, any day." He chuckled.
"Good. When I give a direct order, I don't want to argue the point with anyone. Arguing wastes time. Now, I know the way, I know the dangers, I know what I'm doing. At times you'll be asked to learn to shoot, to not have a fire for supper, to lighten your load, and to dress appropriately for the weather. As women I want you to realize the way you dress can affect the outcome of your day. If you have pants wear them, if not riding skirts, as this is going to be a very dusty, dirty journey. I've seen women trample themselves under wheels with long dresses on. It sounds incredible that a person could stand beside a moving wagon and get run over, but believe me, it has happened. So, if all you have is dresses, be aware of the wagon wheels and stay away from them. You get tired, you let go of your skirt and you are trapped. You'll walk some distances off and on. As Miss Ashford has already informed me, there will be absolutely no drinking on this trip, unless it's in a town we stop by and I allow you to go there. Wagon trains are marshalled by their own people, meaning me. No gun play, no drinking, and since most of you are women, let's keep the flirting down too. I don't want any hen fights. This won't be a picnic for any of you and you're going to California, as I was told, to marry men there. Where you are going, I wouldn't be caught dead. But it's none of my business and it's your life. The kind of men you are going to marry, well, let's just say I hope you are prepared for that too. If at any time I feel we need more help, I'll get it myself. If your religious, we'll stop on Sundays. If we must go on, I'll let you know. Are there any questions?"
"Who died and made you the boss?" One pretty woman ambled up to him and flashed her green eyes at him.
Not adverse to a pretty woman, Cully smiled.
Abby slid off her horse and looked the girl in the eye, "I did, Jennifer. You wanted a new wagon master, and Mr. Cully is qualified for the job. What he says goes. He's a professional wagon master, and that's what we need. You'll take orders from him, just like I will."
Cully was shocked that Abby would stand up for him so soon. She didn't know him, but he liked her spunk.
"Just asking…" the pretty girl smirked and walked off, twisting her hips at them.
"Where's the chuck wagon?" Cully asked.
"We use the lead wagon for that, it's got a lot of the supplies in it, and we all take turns cooking for everyone. Usually two or three of us tend to the meals each day."
"Good, sounds like you got a system going, I'm glad to hear it. I certainly won't horn in on that." Cully nodded. "This is a hot, dirty job most of the time and food and good coffee are a must. So, keep the coffee coming no matter what time a day or night it is. From time to time, and when necessary I will ask the men to stand guard over the trains. Now, are all the wagons treated for the rain?"
"Yes," Abby nodded.
"Good. With only four men, you women will have to pick up the slack every now and then. Let me say this, we might meet men along the trail who might challenge a wagon train full of women. We've got to be prepared for that. I'd prefer you dress in ordinary every day clothes, and put your hair up in your hat, it might stay cleaner longer that way. Unfortunately, bathing is a luxury you won't be allowed all the time. And then only with a male escort to stand guard. Don't worry, any man gets out of line will be fired, immediately. There will be restrictions on when and where you can bath, also. So be prepared for that. Oh, and by the way, any bathing will be reported to me first, if I okay it, then you can, if I don't, you won't. This might not set well, but water is a commodity we must consider on a long drive like this. One of the worst things is rationing water. But sometimes we'll have to ration. Consider the animals too, as they will suffer right along with us."
Several of the woman talked among themselves.
"Let's roll ladies, we'll stop about noon for food and I'll find us a good place, Mr. Williams you'll keep things rolling until then."
Johnny nodded.
"Are you going to be gone all day long, Mr. Cully?" Abigail asked as he was about to ride out.
"Off and on. I have to scout for water breaks, for camping places and see if there is any obstructions or problem along the way."
She nodded. "Good, thanks Mr. Cully for letting me know."
He started to leave again, and she called to him, "I wanted to tell you that Mr. Williams isn't used to taking orders, but I think you handled him rather well."
Cully glanced at Johnny and nodded. "We all take orders from someone. After all, I guess you are my boss."
She smirked. "I have to tell you, that I have confidence in your ability to get us there, Mr. Cully. Especially after that speech. Yesterday I wasn't sure about you, finding you with a tremendous hangover and all, but you certainly cleaned up well."
"Miss Ashford, you may not like me before this journey is over, but I will get you there, that much I promise."
"I believe you will…. Mr. Cully!" She whipped her horse about and got in line.
"I just hope you know what you are in for." He mumbled, about to ride off.
"Unfortunately, I do know, Mr. Cully."
"Then why on earth….?" He stared at her.
"All of us have our reasons."
"You can cut the Mr. out. Just call me Cully."
"Fine." She started to move away.
"You are a pure waste, all of you." Cully murmured.
"Cully," She rounded on him now, her dark eyes flashing. "We are aware this isn't going to be a picnic, but the right woman can change a man…."
"Yeah right…" he chuckled.
He didn't look back, although he was tempted to see the expression on her face.
He was gone most of the morning, not finding any obstructions in the path, and knowing there'd be a water supply for the next few days he relaxed. "Well Slug, we're on our way."
Slug ran around him a time or two and barked.
Fifty-seven women, he murmured under his breath. And he had accepted the job.
He thought there were only twenty-five, he wondered what other surprises were ahead for him.
He took a drink and went back to the train a couple hours later. A huge branch had covered the trail in one place and he rode back to the wagon to get Johnny's help. He told Slug to stay and Slug ambled toward Miss Abby and laid down.
She smiled.
"He doesn't usually take to females."
She looked at the dog.
They spent an hour moving the debris out of the way. When large trees fell due to bad storms, it took a lot of time and muscle to move them.
By the time they returned they were sweating and out of sorts.
He was about to wash up for supper when he heard Abby talking to someone. At first, he couldn't make out who it was, but he peeked around the wagon to see, it was Slug.
She was giving him some scraps and petting him. She talked to him like a human. Damned if he didn't get a kick out of that. Slug loved the attention too. He smiled but decided not to embarrass her. So, she liked his dog, so why did that please him so much?
He joined Johnny after washing up.
"Johnny, the way is clear for a while, but I wanted to make mention, when we camp, head the lead wagon north, always pointing north. Sometimes the countryside can look the same no matter which way you are looking but if we point north, we won't get lost. It's an old cattle drive trick, but it works."
Johnny nodded. "Lost? You think we'll get lost?"
"You remember talk of the Donner train?
"Oh yeah, everyone's heard of them."
"That's one of the reasons to point north. They didn't intend getting lost either. What messed them up was taking the short-cut. We won't be doing that. Short cuts are for fools."
"You're right." Johnny grinned.
&nb
sp; "You been with this train long?"
"Yeah, we started in Independence Missouri."
"You know these people pretty well?"
"Some of them."
"Good. Are any of the wagons overloaded?" He asked.
"A few."
"Then when we need to lighten. I need you to check them and make sure they are. If they need help, you and Slim and Ralph can manage it, if not, come find me."
"Alright."
"Anyone sickly?"
"There's one, she seems a bit puny from time to time."
"Keep an extra eye on her then, who is she?"
"Carolyn Meyers," he answered. "She's been throwing up every morning."
Cully's complexion went almost red. He sighed heavily. He knew what it meant, and he wasn't pleased with the news.
"Let me know if we need to stop and why. I'm depending on you to help me the most, as the kid, he's got about all he can handle with the stock, I saw you have quite a bit of stock, that can be good or bad, but if he needs help from time to time, let that Ralph fella help him, I doubt he'll be much use except if we get in a bind. I can tell he's a drinker, but I don't want to see a bottle with him. So, you and I are gonna be leading this bunch. I like a man I can trust and talk straight with. If I bark, there is usually a reason, otherwise I'm easy to get along with. Always tell me the truth, no matter how bad it is. I need to count on you. You'll be my right-hand man all the way."
Johnny nodded, his attitude seemed to have changed though, now he felt the importance of his position and Cully doubted he'd have any trouble out of him.
"You can rely on me."
That night after supper he looked at Johnny and asked, "Do they have any idea what they are getting themselves into?"
Johnny stared at him for a minute, then guffawed. "Some of them do," He cupped his coffee in his hands and stared into it. "Some do, and some don't care. Some of them don't have a clue what to expect, and others I don't know…. It's like this boss, these women figure what's facing them isn't half as bad as what lies behind them."
Cully filed that information in the back of his head, hoping he might get a clue later.
Johnny's words homed in on Cully. He glanced around at the women, doing their jobs, without complaint. He wondered. "Those miners out there, they are pigs Johnny. They drink and carouse and spend everything they make every day. Those women have no idea…They are about as far away from being a gentleman as you can get."
