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Writings, discussions and studies about the US westward migration between the Revolutionary War and the beginning of the Oregon Trail
Monday, November 08, 2004
Thinking about the trip west (fiction moment)
Three families with their wagons had stopped in the small clearing. It was on one of the longer stretches between inns on the road to Pittsburg, a pleasant enough place that had been used a lot, it seemed, by the hard packed earth and the trail down to the creek and the lack of easy at hand firewood.
Judith Robinson watched her husband Samuel, coatless in the afternoon heat, expertly unhitching the oxen from their wagon. Looking at him, nearly forty-five but still moving with the ease and sureness of a younger man, but feeling all her aches and pains, she wondered for the umpteenth time the wisdom of their journey west. Yet once again, she chose to put her best face forward.
"How far you think we gone today, Samuel?" Judith asked, smiling at him, holding their youngest, Donald, asleep in her arms. Her linen cap was sweat-stained where it peeked out beneath her straw hat and her petticoat hem was obviously dusty. It had been a hot day, and a long walk through rough and sometimes steep country.
Samuel turned and looked at his wife, lifted his cocked hat above his graying red hair to scratch his head, and thought a moment. "Oh, I suspect we did a good seven mile, Judith, before Asa’s horse got lame. Not bad for the way the road was."
“I’m glad you decided to bring the oxen, Samuel. I know people wondered about it, and your brother decided to take horses, but they’ve done right well for us so far.”
“Yep, they have their advantages. Easier to feed, too. At least it looks like Asa’s horse only needs some rest. That was a rough bit of country.”
"Well, I think it'll be nice not crammed in an inn tonight," Judith said. "I do not believe I rested hardly at all last night."
"It surely was a hard night, all of us trying to squeeze into that one room last night!" he replied.
She turned to see to the children while he continued to care for the animals.
Eleanor, her oldest girl, nearly fourteen, and tall as she was, was carrying two pails of water.
“Ellie, bring that water over here. Have you seen Sarah?”
“I think she was with Lizzy over by Aunt Jennie’s wagon.” Ellie plopped the buckets down, wiped her hands on a stained apron.
“Well go fetch her for me, will you dear? I want her to watch Donald.”
"Edward, you split some kindling yet?” she asked her oldest boy, who was coming in with an armload of firewood. “Cain't have supper until we get a fire going.”
Jennie, Asa's wife, came up to where Judith was making her kitchen. She was a little thing, about five months pregnant, and had that dazed look that people get when they are a little too tired, or maybe had too much sun. Judith worried about her a lot. Her health was more delicate than she would have liked for someone going west.
"I brung some coffee, Judith. I think a dish of coffee would be mighty good tonight."
"That sounds just about right," Judith replied. "Why don't you get Laz to get you a chair, and you kin help me get the soup cooking. Pocket soup and and hoe cakes sounds good to me. Won’t be much in the soup. I got some onions and a tater or two, but it’ll be hot."
Laz, ten, redheaded like his father, and Sarah, nine, came up. Judith handed the sleeping two year old to her, and sent her son off to fetch a stool out of the wagon. Elie went to get supplies for dinner.
Mrs. Smith, just a young thing newly married, maybe twenty years old and fresh out of Philadelphia, came and joined them. The Smiths were headed to the same area in Kentucky, and all three families had been travelling together since crossing the Susequehana. "It makes me nervous to be sleeping out of doors like this," she said.
Judith glanced at the men and the older boys gathered together. Three men, a 16 year old and a twelve year old, taking care of the horses and oxen.. "Well, as busy as this road is, with all the wagoneers and Kentucky bound on it, I ain't too worried. Not with all the folk we got here."
Edward brought the load of kindling and Jennie's oldest brought in some bigger wood. Judith expertly used her flint and steel to get a fire going. "Soon as the water's hot enough, we'll get the coffee going."
Jennie pulled a stocking she was knitting out of her pocket and started working on it.
"Well, I can tell you one thing, sisters," she said. "It feels mighty good not to be moving!"
"Amen!" they replied, then hurried up with making supper so they might be able to get some rest before facing the next day's travels.
Judith Robinson watched her husband Samuel, coatless in the afternoon heat, expertly unhitching the oxen from their wagon. Looking at him, nearly forty-five but still moving with the ease and sureness of a younger man, but feeling all her aches and pains, she wondered for the umpteenth time the wisdom of their journey west. Yet once again, she chose to put her best face forward.
"How far you think we gone today, Samuel?" Judith asked, smiling at him, holding their youngest, Donald, asleep in her arms. Her linen cap was sweat-stained where it peeked out beneath her straw hat and her petticoat hem was obviously dusty. It had been a hot day, and a long walk through rough and sometimes steep country.
Samuel turned and looked at his wife, lifted his cocked hat above his graying red hair to scratch his head, and thought a moment. "Oh, I suspect we did a good seven mile, Judith, before Asa’s horse got lame. Not bad for the way the road was."
“I’m glad you decided to bring the oxen, Samuel. I know people wondered about it, and your brother decided to take horses, but they’ve done right well for us so far.”
“Yep, they have their advantages. Easier to feed, too. At least it looks like Asa’s horse only needs some rest. That was a rough bit of country.”
"Well, I think it'll be nice not crammed in an inn tonight," Judith said. "I do not believe I rested hardly at all last night."
"It surely was a hard night, all of us trying to squeeze into that one room last night!" he replied.
She turned to see to the children while he continued to care for the animals.
Eleanor, her oldest girl, nearly fourteen, and tall as she was, was carrying two pails of water.
“Ellie, bring that water over here. Have you seen Sarah?”
“I think she was with Lizzy over by Aunt Jennie’s wagon.” Ellie plopped the buckets down, wiped her hands on a stained apron.
“Well go fetch her for me, will you dear? I want her to watch Donald.”
"Edward, you split some kindling yet?” she asked her oldest boy, who was coming in with an armload of firewood. “Cain't have supper until we get a fire going.”
Jennie, Asa's wife, came up to where Judith was making her kitchen. She was a little thing, about five months pregnant, and had that dazed look that people get when they are a little too tired, or maybe had too much sun. Judith worried about her a lot. Her health was more delicate than she would have liked for someone going west.
"I brung some coffee, Judith. I think a dish of coffee would be mighty good tonight."
"That sounds just about right," Judith replied. "Why don't you get Laz to get you a chair, and you kin help me get the soup cooking. Pocket soup and and hoe cakes sounds good to me. Won’t be much in the soup. I got some onions and a tater or two, but it’ll be hot."
Laz, ten, redheaded like his father, and Sarah, nine, came up. Judith handed the sleeping two year old to her, and sent her son off to fetch a stool out of the wagon. Elie went to get supplies for dinner.
Mrs. Smith, just a young thing newly married, maybe twenty years old and fresh out of Philadelphia, came and joined them. The Smiths were headed to the same area in Kentucky, and all three families had been travelling together since crossing the Susequehana. "It makes me nervous to be sleeping out of doors like this," she said.
Judith glanced at the men and the older boys gathered together. Three men, a 16 year old and a twelve year old, taking care of the horses and oxen.. "Well, as busy as this road is, with all the wagoneers and Kentucky bound on it, I ain't too worried. Not with all the folk we got here."
Edward brought the load of kindling and Jennie's oldest brought in some bigger wood. Judith expertly used her flint and steel to get a fire going. "Soon as the water's hot enough, we'll get the coffee going."
Jennie pulled a stocking she was knitting out of her pocket and started working on it.
"Well, I can tell you one thing, sisters," she said. "It feels mighty good not to be moving!"
"Amen!" they replied, then hurried up with making supper so they might be able to get some rest before facing the next day's travels.
Posted by: Mrs. Stone / 9:23 AM 
