Martha of California: A Story of the California Trail

If I had the time, it would please me to describe the journey from our home in Ashley to a town known as Independence, on the Missouri River, where the Oregon trail begins; but since, as father said again and again, we did not really start until we had struck the Oregon trail, it is best that I leave out all that happened while we were coming from Pike County to the Missouri River.

THE TOWN OF INDEPENDENCE

We traveled slowly, because the cows were not easily herded, and, as Eben Jordan said, none of our people were accustomed to such kind of marching.

We did, however, finally arrive at the real starting point after eight days, during which time Ellen and I came to understand that, however pleasant it was to sit in the wagon and look out upon the country through which we passed, it might grow wearisome.

Ellen and I had fancied we would see something very new and wonderful at Independence, and yet, while everything was strange and there was much to attract one's attention, it was not so very different from other settlements through which we had passed.

There was, however, a constant bustle and confusion such as one could not see elsewhere. Enormous wagons, which Eben Jordan said belonged to the traders who went over the Santa Fe trail, were coming into town or going out, each drawn by eight or ten mules and accompanied by Spaniards or Negroes, until one could but wonder where so many people were going.

There were trains, much like our own, belonging to settlers who were going into Oregon, or, like ourselves, into California. Those were halted just outside the town, until the entire settlement was literally surrounded, while among them all, near the wagons of the traders as well as those of the emigrants, lounged Indians, nothing like the people I had imagined the savages to be.

KANSAS INDIANS

As Ellen said, if that was the kind of Indian we should meet with during the journey, then we need have little or no fear, for the savages we saw at Independence were nothing more nor less than beggars, who would greedily pick up and devour anything eatable that was thrown at them. Eben Jordan made himself ridiculous by marching around armed with a rifle, and a huge knife thrust in his belt, as if expecting each instant to be called upon to defend his life.

We were tired of the settlement, even before we had fairly arrived, and after Ellen and I walked through the town, wondering not a little at seeing a number of the houses and stores built entirely of brick, we were content to return to our own encampment, which was about half a mile out on the prairie.

LOOKING INTO THE FUTURE FOR TROUBLE

Up to this time mother and I had but little trouble in preparing the meals whenever we came to a halt; but I heard some of the men say that within a few days after we were once on the trail, all this would be changed. There would be many times when we might not find sufficient fuel to keep a fire in the stove, when we would feel the pangs of thirst because of not being able to get enough water, and when, the stock of provisions which we had brought with us having been consumed, we would know what it was to be hungry.

When I repeated to mother what I had heard, she nodded her head sadly, replying that she had thought of all these things when father first determined to seek a new home in the California country, and she doubted not that we would come to know much suffering, before we arrived at our journey's end.

As may be supposed, I was not in a cheerful mood when Ellen and I went to bed that night. During the half hour or more while we lay there wakeful, we spoke of all the possibilities of the future, and almost regretted that our parents had decided to leave Pike County, for surely they could find nowhere on the face of this earth a place more agreeable in which to live.

A STORMY DAY

When another morning came, it surely seemed as if all my fears were about to be realized, for the day dawned dark and forbidding, the rain came down in torrents, while the wind sighed and moaned as it drove floods of water from one end of the wagon to the other, wetting us completely even before we were awake.

I could not believe father would set off on the journey at such a time as this, and was wondering how we should be able to cook breakfast, when he called to mother that she make ready the morning meal, for in half an hour the train would be in motion.

No one had been sufficiently thoughtful to store beneath the wagon a supply of dry fuel, and the consequence was that we had nothing with which to build a fire, save a few armfuls of water-soaked wood which father and Eben Jordan succeeded in gathering, for where so many emigrants were encamped, fuel of any kind was indeed scarce.

I almost forgave Eben for having appeared so ridiculous when he strutted around fully armed, as I saw him striving to gather wood for us when he might have remained under the cover of his father's wagon; indeed, before many days passed both Ellen and I saw that there was much good in the boy's heart, even though he was too often disposed to make matters disagreeable for us girls.

A LACK OF FUEL

Mother and I made our first attempt at cooking while the stove was beneath the wagon cover and the pipe thrust out through the hole in the rear.

If we had had plenty of dry wood, I have no doubt but that the work could have been done with some degree of comfort; but as it was, we were put to our wits' ends, even to get sufficient heat to boil the water, and when word was given for the company to start, we had not really begun to cook the breakfast.

Of course it would have been dangerous for us to attempt to keep a fire burning while the wagon was moving. Therefore we would have been forced to set off without breakfast, had not Ellen's mother kindly sent us some corn bread which she had baked the night before, and this, with fresh milk, made up our meal.

At the time I thought I was much injured because of not having more food; but before we had come to the land of California I often looked back upon that morning with longing, remembering the meal of corn bread and milk as though it was a feast.

During all the long day, except for half an hour at noon, the patient oxen plodded wearily on amid the rain, oftentimes sinking fetlock-deep in the marshy places. Everything was damp and every place uncomfortable, and at times it seemed as if I could no longer bear up under the suffering.

In order to teach me that, instead of grumbling, I ought to be thankful for the comforts I could enjoy, mother told me to look at those who were exposed to the storm. I saw father and the other men walking beside the oxen, the rain pelting down upon them pitilessly; I heard the cry of a baby in pain; and I soon came to understand that my lot was far less hard than that of many others.

She read me a lesson on patience and contentment, whatever might be my surroundings, until I grew ashamed of having shown myself so disagreeable.

MAKING CAMP IN A STORM

Determined as I was to make the best of whatever might happen, I could not but be disheartened when, nearly at nightfall, we halted to make camp again. The rain was still descending like a cloud-burst; everything around us, including the bedding, seemed saturated with water. Yet I saw the men spread the thin cloth tents, after the wagons had been drawn up in a circle, or made into a corral as the travelers on the trail call it; I saw them wade ankle-deep in the mud, but with never an impatient word or gesture. It appeared sufficient to them if their women and children could enjoy some little degree of comfort.

Again we strove to do our cooking under the wagon covers, and again we were in need of fuel. Ellen and I, with the skirts of our gowns over our heads for protection, scurried here and there, picking up twigs and crying out with delight when we came upon a piece of wood as large as one's fist.

You can well imagine what kind of supper we had that night. The inside of the wagon was filled with smoke, for the short length of stovepipe did not afford a strong draft, and mother labored, with the tears streaming down her cheeks, to fry as much bacon as would satisfy our hunger.

The smoke was so dense that we all wept, smiling even in the midst of our seeming tears when father said, after he had milked the cows and had brought in quite as much water as milk, that it was a question with him whether he could stand better the smoke or the rain. He was inclined to think he had rather be soaked with water than cured like a ham.

Again Eben Jordan showed his kindness of heart, for he insisted upon helping this man and that, milk the cows and herd the oxen and sheep, and he did whatever came to his hand, all the while humming "Joe Bowers."

When Eben came into our wagon later in the evening, Ellen and I treated him very kindly, for we were coming to understand that this boy, who found so much pleasure in vexing us girls, was ever ready to do a good turn to another, even when it cost him much labor and discomfort.

A THUNDERSTORM

During all that night it rained; but shortly after midnight there came up such a terrific storm of thunder and lightning that it seemed as if the very heavens were bursting.

Then all our men and boys were forced to go and quiet the cattle, for the beasts were even as frightened as we girls were, and, so father said, would have stampeded, leaving us to spend the next day searching for them on the prairies, had it not been for the precautions of our people.

When I complained to mother, just after father had gone out into the tempest, that this journey to California was nothing like what I had pictured it, she said mildly that if I was growing disheartened now, it would have been better had I never set out from Pike County, for thus far matters had gone much to our convenience and that shortly we would find real trials and real troubles.

Next morning, however, my spirits rose, for the sun was shining brightly when I awoke; but word was passed around the camp that instead of setting off at once, we might spend two hours drying the bed clothing and such of our belongings as had been saturated during the storm.

Then there was presented such a scene as would have interested any one who had never witnessed the like before. On every wagon tongue were hung blankets and garments of all kinds, and over the wheels of each cart lay feather beds or bolsters, until it must have looked as if every member of our company had spent a day in washing, and was now about to do the ironing.

Eben Jordan went here and there, aiding this one or that when he had done what he might for his mother, all the while singing "My name it is Joe Bowers," until, even before our breakfast had been cooked, fully half the company were joining in that foolish song. Mother said almost fretfully, when Ellen and I took up the refrain, that she wished the senseless words had never been written, or that we had never heard them.

ANOTHER COMPANY OF PIKERS

Although we started off late that morning, owing to the drying out, we halted early in the afternoon, for we had come upon a company of men and women who, like ourselves, were bound for the land of California. The leader of the company was Colonel Russell.

To my surprise and delight these people also proved to be Pikers, having come from a settlement about twenty miles south of our old home. You may readily fancy how enjoyable was that evening, when we visited from wagon to wagon, listening to the stories of what had thus far happened to the company, and repeating our own adventures, if such they could be called.

While we women and girls were thus engaged, the men of both companies decided to travel together, believing that by increasing the number there might be less danger from the Indians, for Eben Jordan said that the savages we saw at Independence were but imitations of the fiercer ones whom we were most likely to meet before our journey's end.

THE STOCK STRAY AWAY

I suppose it was the excitement occasioned by the meeting with Colonel Russell's company, which caused our men in charge of the cattle to be careless during the evening and later in the night, for when morning came we found that nearly all the oxen and a goodly number of the cows had strayed from the camp and disappeared completely.

When Eben Jordan first told us of this, I believed a great disaster had come upon us; but straightway father and half a dozen of the other men mounted the horses and set off across the prairie in search of the missing cattle, as if this was trouble to be expected.

In fact, before many days passed, I came to look upon the straying or the stampeding of the live stock as of little consequence.

We had plenty of time to cook breakfast that morning while the men were searching over the prairie for the cattle, and, much to my surprise, within three hours all the stock had been brought into the encampment and we were making ready once more for the day's journey.