March 14th, 1852
My name is Bethany Greene, Beth to my family, and Pa gave me this journal today, to record our family's trip to Oregon. We are currently in Independence, Missouri, stocking up on supplies for the trail. We head out tomorrow.
We head out tomorrow with another family of people, the Grimes. We met them the other day while we were eating at the hotel. Pa talked with Mr. Grimes and decided that we should travel together. Mr. Grimes is a U.S. Marshal, and has been appointed by the government to be a lawman in Oregon territory. Because of this, he's bringing his wife and two children. Mrs. Grimes seems to be a sweet woman, and Ma gets along well with her. Carl is their oldest child, and he seems about twelve or so. They also have a daughter, Judith, who is about seven. I'm to teach them their schooling while we travel out West.
Our family has traveled all the way from Chicago, Illinois, where my Pa was a doctor. Pa grew up in Georgia and traveled to Illinois to go to medical school at Rush Medical College. He met Ma at church while he was working with Dr. Standford. Grandpa Ingalls was not very open to Pa courting Ma. Grandpa Ingalls made all his money while farming, and felt that Ma should marry a man who knew a day's hard work, like her first husband. Grandma Ingalls was more receptive to Pa, knowing how hard southern boys work, as she was from South Carolina. She also wanted her daughter taken care of, and she felt that a doctor was good prospects, especially as a widow with a young baby. This is all according to Ma.
Her son is my brother Shawn. He is about three and twenty, and is studying to be a doctor like Pa. Ma is upset that Shawn didn't get married before he left Illinois, where he could have stayed and study medicine instead of heading out to Oregon. But Pa felt a calling from God to go out to the territories, where so many people were getting sick and dying. A doctor was what they needed, Pa says. Shawn wants to learn more from Pa first, and then will travel back once we're settled on our new homestead.
Ma is also worried about her daughters, thinking that there are no good protects for husbands with the country full of miners and fur traders. What life is that for her daughters, Ma says. Although Ma worries that Maggie will never be wed.
Maggie, whose full name is Margaret, is the daughter from Pa's first wife. She had been living with her mother's grandparents after Pa became a widower. Ma says that she's a tomboy, and that she gets that from her mother. She used to run around on Grandpa Ingalls farm as if she was a boy. She even helped with men's work when there is not enough help on harvest days. She rarely keeps her bonnet on, with it more than likely hanging down her back. Her skin gets awfully brown when she does this. Ma says that even though she spends a lot of time on a farm, it doesn't mean she can't look like a lady. I think I agree with Maggie, because the bonnets can be uncomfortable, but I'd never say that to Ma.
Grandpa and Grandma Ingalls moved out of the house in town and to the farm at the edge of town when Ma and Pa got married, with Ma and Pa getting the house. Shawn, Maggie, and I grew up in town, but we'd spend most weekends with our grandparents. Shawn, Maggie, and I learned how to farm plants and animals, which made Pa happy because he grew up on the farm, but Ma didn't think we'd ever use our skills.
She was insistent on other skills. Both Maggie and I know how to sew, knit, cook, and take care of children. We learned briefly with our siblings, but usually with our cousins. Pa and Ma had two other children, but they didn't make it to adulthood. There was Annie, named after Ma, who passed when she was 5. And then there was Hershel Fredrick, who we just called Freddie. He passed before he was a year old. After that, Ma had no more children.
She always says that I was a gift from God, because they could only have one child in their marriage. And they got an obedient child, Ma says. She says this now because I made sure to get my teaching certificate like she wanted. At least you may be able to make a living without an unsuitable man, although no woman should work forever, Ma says.
"Beth!"
Beth looked up from the page she'd been writing on. It was her Ma calling her from the other room. She didn't know how long she'd been writing in her new journal, but form the ache in her belly, she knew that it was about supper time. She blew the ink dry and closed the journal, slipping it and the fountain pen into the pocket of her dress. She wasn't used to having pockets on her dressed, but Ma thought they'd be practical when she made everyone clothing for moving out West.
"Yes Ma?" Beth said, walking through the doorway.
"It's time for supper. Wash up quickly so we can head downstairs."
After a quick washing, Beth and Ma headed downstairs to the dining room. Pa, her siblings, and the Grimes were already seated. Pa and Mr. Grimes were talking together, almost assuredly about the upcoming day. Everyone was heading out West, but that didn't mean it wasn't any less dangerous.
Ma sat by Mrs. Grimes, and Beth squeezed in between Maggie and Judith. After grace, everyone began to eat, when the door to the dining room opened. A man walked into the room. He must be another guest at the hotel. He was looking around for a free seat. Beth saw her Pa stand and raise a hand to the stranger. There must be no other open seats available. After the stranger walked over to her Pa, the noise of the dining room started up again, and Beth couldn't hear what they were saying.
Beth continued to eat her supper, but she could tell that her Ma was uncomfortable with the stranger at the table, even with her and her children separated from him. Slowly the dining room began to empty, and the conversation between her Pa, Mr. Grimes, and the stranger became easier to hear. Beth tried not to listen too much, as eavesdropping was a inappropriate, but she really couldn't help herself.
"You plan to head out to the Territory tomorrow then, Mr. Dixon?" Pa asked.
"Mmm," Mr. Dixon said, nodding, his eyes on his plate.
"There are so many groups heading out tomorrow, you should find someone to travel with," Pa said.
"I agree. It's not safe to travel alone," Mr. Grimes said.
"It's too late to find someone know, I suppose," Mr. Dixon muttered.
"Why don't you think about joining with us?" Pa asked. "We could use another man. Right Rick?"
"Mmm," Rick mumbled. "We could. But this isn't talk for women and children."
Ma cleared her voice. "Children," she said. "Let us excuse ourselves."
"Yes," Mrs. Grimes said. "Carl, Judy, let's go back up to the room."
With that, everyone but the menfolk left the table for the rooms they were staying in. The men talked so long that everyone was in bed before they got back. Pa was careful when coming in, trying to not wake his wife or children. But Beth had been too excited to sleep, so she was pretending when Pa came in.
"Hershel," came Ma's voice in the dark. "What did you decide to do?"
"Mr. Dixon is going to come with us on our way West." Pa said.
"Are you sure it's safe? To travel with someone that we don't know."
"It's the Christian thing to do, Annette. I've also talked with Rick after Mr. Dixon excused himself. Between our families, there are plenty of eyes and good shots to keep us safe. We'll keep a watch on him. Do not fret yourself."
March 28th, 1852
I have not written in almost two weeks now. Life on the trail takes some adjustments. I have spent the last two days being able to walk alongside the wagon, after spending restless days in the back of the wagon. I had to beg Ma to let me walk alongside the wagon, and it was Maggie who finally convinced her. Beth should be able to walk when Judy is occupied or busy, especially since I help drive the wagon and Shawn gets to ride a horse, Maggie said to Ma. Ma eventually relented, and Maggie, and even Ma, walks with me when their legs grow too restless or they need to warm up. Maggie even walks with her bonnet up, probably because it's too cold. Judy wants to walk beside me, but her legs are too short to keep up. Pa says that she'll as likely get dragged under the wagon than keep up.
As I've said, Maggie spends her days helping Ma drive the oxen. Pa taught Ma before we left Illinois, and now she teaches Maggie. Maggie is so much stronger than Ma, and she's more able to control the oxen. We have four of them, and I've named them Rosie, Daisy, Jake, and Samson. Pa hopes we'll be able to use them for plow animals, or trade them for other animals we'd need. Pa would drive the wagon, but he, Shawn, and Carl help ride the horses. Pa has three horses and hopes to be able to breed them and sell them in the territories. Horses are in great demand, Pa says. We have only three; Nelly, Honey, and Cole. Nelly is the horse that Maggie and I learned to ride on, and Honey is a sweet tempered horse that Pa got from trade. Pa used the two of them to drive the carriage. Cole is Pa's black stallion, his favorite horse. Pa could only take the two mares to the Territories because he didn't want any of them foaling on the way there. Nellie and Honey were the best choices as they were with us in town, with Cole on the farm.
Because Nelly is so flighty sometimes, Shawn rides her, with Carl riding Honey. Mr. Grimes has a horse too. He calls her Flame, because of her dark red coat. Mr. Grimes rides her, and leaves Mrs. Grimes to drive the horses. This is why Judy spends her time in the wagon with me. When she's awake, I try to teach her little things, like sewing little dresses for rag dolls and working her numbers without a slate. I'd try to teach her to read, but the wagon movement makes my stomach churn. When she's resting or occupied with her works, I mend things for our family, the Grimes family, or even Mr. Dixon. Yesterday, when he was out hunting, he ripped his coat. I mended it as quickly and deftly as I could. Mr. Dixon spent the time I was mending in shirtsleeves and a woolen vest. When I'm done mending all the clothing, I make little things for when I'm married. Lace and doilies.
We seem to have come up with a kind of pattern. Every other day or so, we spend a day or two hunting, especially when the game seems plentiful. We rest during bad weather, of course. There's no reason to injure our animals when we have plenty of time to get there before the snow hits, Pa says. When we hit the Kansas River, we had to wait 4 days before we could cross, the waters are so high. Hopefully the next river we cross isn't nearly as high.
When we stop, the men take care of the many animals we have. Besides the oxen and the horses that we have, we also have other animals for when we find our homestead. Grandma Ingalls insisted. She gave Pa many animals, and even some bags of the best seed crop the Ingalls farm produced that year. We have two milk cows, Bessie and Patty. Pa says they're likely to calf in the fall, which we couldn't help. But this will mean there should be milk throughout the winter. We also have three chickens and a rooster. Hopefully we'll be able to have many chicks the following summer.
Out last animal was a bit of a surprise. A dog showed up while we were cooking a meal on the far side of the Kansas River. Ma said we should make it leave, but Pa said to wait. A dog may be useful on the trail, Pa said. Mr. Grimes and Mr. Dixon seemed to agree. The children were happy, and I must admit I was happy at the prospect of having another dog. We were sad to leave our old dog, Bounder, with Grandpa and Grandma Ingalls, but it couldn't be helped, Pa said. A house dog doesn't know how to survive on the trail. Ma wishes we could have brought our cat, Mouser, along. She was as good at catching mice as her name suggests, but we had no way to keep her with us on the way over. Pa was certain that we can find a cat when we finally get where we're going.
Besides our animals, the Grimes have two oxen and a cow for milk. I don't know their names as I never get a chance to work with them. Mr. Dixon has a few animals with them. He has a horse and a mule. The mule makes me laugh, long ears like a rabbit. I don't know what it's name is, but I call him Bunny. He's behind the Grimes family wagon with their cow.
Pa has begun to trust Mr. Dixon more. He is knowledgeable about the area, and is a very good hunter. He always seems to come home with game or a fowl of some kind, usually two. It is always nice to have something warm when we have a fire. Pa says that we may not always be able to have a fire, with the prairies not known for their forests.
When we stop, everyone gets ready to do chores. The men are off hunting, working with animals, making fires, and setting the wagons up for night. Ma and Mrs. Grimes begin cooking while Maggie and I get the water for washing. After supper is cooking, and most of the chores are done, I spend the rest of the light teaching Judith and Carl with the slate and books we have. When they're learning, and if I can, I try to write in this journal.
"Don't go straining your eyes Beth," Ma called from beside her father, her sewing laying in her lap.
Beth looked up. It was the last of the free time she'd had tonight. Supper had been eaten, children had been taught, and dishes, faces, and little hands had been washed. The light was just about fading, and, Beth mused, Ma was right. She shouldn't strain her eyes trying to write.
"How about a little music before bed?" Pa asked, his fiddlebox in his hands. He put it on his lap and gently brought out his fiddle. After tuning, the bow began to fly over the strings, a peppy song springing forth.
I struck the trail in seventy-two
The herd strung out behind me
As I jogged along my mind ran back
To the girl I left behind me
The sweet little girl, the pretty little girl
The girl I left behind me
As I jogged along my mind ran back
To the girl I left behind me
Pa's voice was deep, and a little scratchy, and to Beth it was the best voice. Her favorite memories growing up where when Pa would sing and play his fiddle. And as Beth looked around the group, she could see everyone relaxing and enjoying themselves. Even Jiggs, what she'd decided to call the stray dog, was relaxed, laying between Carl and Judy.
Pa continued playing, with Mr. Dixon joining in on his harmonica when he knew the song. When Pa would nod at Beth and Maggie, they would join in their voices to Pa's. It was an incredibly festive evening.
Just at the end, after Pa was finished playing "Pop! Goes the Weasel" for the kids, popping the string on the fiddle to make the Pop, he put the fiddle on his lap and stretched his hands.
"My hands aren't what they used to be," Pa chuckled. "Bethy, I know you've been practicing the fiddle. Why don't you play us one last song."
Startled, Beth took the fiddle from Pa gently, putting her fingers onto the strings. She pulled the bow gingerly over the strings, and then more confidently as the song began.
Oft in the stilly night,
E'er slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond mem'ry brings the light
Of other days around me:
It was a slow, sweet melody, made even sweeter by Beth's lovely voice. It seemed to cast a spell over all around. For all the joy and energy that Pa had played into their hearts, Beth was weaving something different. It was a feeling of memories and sunshine. It was peace.
When she had finished, Pa smiled at her, his eyes sparkling. "You played that beautifully, Bethy."
"And now it's time for bed." Mrs. Grimes said, standing and brushing off her skirts, and rounding up her children.
Beth went to sleep that night, her heart light. Her dreams were filled with memories of her old home, and hopes of the home to come.
April 9th, 1852
Today we crossed the Big Blue River. It appeared to be more shallow than the Kansas River, so we decided to ford the river instead of waiting for the ferry. Ma and Maggie were driving the oxen, and Judith and I were in the back. Judy was scared, and I don't mind saying that I was scared myself. It was very bumpy for being a river and we were rocked about as the wagon traveled through the water. Suddenly a knot in the canvas came loose, and water could be seen splashing over the box of the wagon. I told Judith to stay while I went to retie the knot, hoping to keep as much water out of our meager supplies as we could. We must have hit a hole in the riverbank, or the water must have been deeper than expected. The wagon lurched, and I fell into the water. The water was cold and soaked my clothing instantly, pulling me down. Pa never taught us how to swim, even though we lived near a big lake. He said it wasn't very ladylike to learn to swim. It was one of the few instances I can remember Pa saying anything like that. He usually let us do many things people considered "unladylike".
Anyway, I got one yell out before my head went under the water. The water was so cold, that my chest felt tight and heavy. I tried to moved my arms and legs, but I couldn't get back to the surface, my clothing was so heavy. My lungs felt fit to burst when something pulled me above the surface. It was Mr. Dixon. Ma says he had just made it to the other side of the bank, and must have seen me fall into the water. For he dove off the other side before she even hear me cry.
He grabbed me around my waist and when we got to shallower water, he lifted me up into his arms. I couldn't have walked or climbed up the shore if I'd have wanted to, I was shivering so much. He walked up the shore, and placed me down gently. Pa came running towards me. He got me to Ma as soon as the wagon crossed, and she got me out of all of those wet clothing and into something dry. She bundled me in nearly all the blankets we had on her's and Pa's feather bed. Judy spent most of the day snuggled next to me, like our kitten at home. She's out now, getting ready for supper. We haven't left yet, because I've been too cold to travel.
"How are you doing Bethy?"
Beth looked up to see Pa's head looking in between the sheets of canvas. She had to go on her elbows, as all the blankets were hard to see around.
"I'm doing fine Pa. I'm warm again." Beth said, smiling.
"That's good." Pa said, touching her forehead. "I was going to have your Ma put another blanket on you if you'd not warmed up by now. How do your legs feel?"
"They feel like they're being pricked by pins and needles."
"Well, you may have to stay here a little longer. Just til you're legs are a little warmer."
"Oh please Pa!" Beth protested. "Can I please leave the wagon? I'd like to thank Mr. Dixon for bringing me out of the river."
Pa smiled, and gave me a kiss on my forehead, his whiskers tickling. "You are a good girl, Beth. If you make sure you dress warmly, and don't overdo yourself, you can come out."
"Oh, I promise Pa!" Beth said, sitting up in the bed. "I'll be careful."
Pa laughed at her eagerness to get out of the little bed. "I'll get Maggie to help you."
After Maggie helped Beth put on her corset, she helped Beth balance as she pulled on her petticoats and stockings. After Beth was in her undergarments, Maggie buttoned her up in her dry wool dress. Beth was just about to step out of the wagon, when Maggie put a shawl around her shoulders.
"Ma will be worried enough as it is. Best remember your shawl now."
With a smile, Beth stepped out into the fading light of the day. Most of the chores were already done. Pa was sitting around the fire with the other men, and Ma was chatting with Mrs. Grimes as she cooked supper. Beth was happy that the children were studying off of a slate. Maggie must have given them problems to work out.
Beth was standing by the wagon, when Pa noticed her. He gave her a smile and a nod, and Beth walked over to the menfolk. Steeling herself, she waited for an opening in the men's conversation. Thankfully, her Pa took pity on her and made one.
"Yes Beth?"
"I'd like to thank Mr. Dixon, Pa," Beth said, her eyes meeting Pa's, like he taught her.
She saw Pa nod his head, his pipe going back into his mouth, a smile on his lips. Beth turned herself towards, her eyes meeting Mr. Dixons. "Thank you Mr. Dixon, for bringing me out of the river. I would have drown if you hadn't."
Mr. Dixon looked at Beth for a second and murmured something like "You're welcome". She looked at Pa for a brief second, say him smile and nod again. She'd done well, and now she was dismissed.
Just as she was leaving, she heard him ask Mr. Dixon something, but was surprised. He called him by his first name, which was apparently Daryl.
Beth knew her Pa, and if he was using his first name, she knew he had nothing but trust for the man. And Beth didn't blame him. He had saved her life.
April 30th, 1852
We're getting closer to Ft. Laurince, and Pa says that it'll be the last of the easy going trail. I'm not quite sure what that means myself. We're still going slower than what we traveled in Illinois. I suppose that's because Illinois is a settled state.
Ma says that Lori is expecting. It feels like a terrible situation. Giving birth on the trail does not seem like a good plan. We didn't even want our animals to be dropping on the trail. But it seems there is nothing for it. God gives you children when he wants.
Today is a hunting day. We've finished all of our chores, so Ma said we could have some free time. Maggie decided to take Judy out to pick wild flowers, with Jiggs bounding around. She's also teaching Judy more of her tomboy ways. I can see both of them from here and they both have their bonnets hanging down their backs, their hair shining in the Spring sun. Ma says that a woman must stay fair and pale if she's going to get a husband. No man wants a tanned woman, she says. But I think Maggie looks good with her tanned skin. It makes her blue eyes sparkle. She and I got our blue eyes from our Pa. Shawn has brown eyes like Ma.
"Beth!"
Judy came running up to her, her little arms going around Beth's legs, Jiggs at her heels. Beth laughed as she slipped her journal into the pocket of her apron. It was nice being in the sun, after traveling in so much cold weather.
"Come pick flowers Beth," Judy said, grabbing her hand. "We'll bring some back to Ma."
Beth rose, and was lead over to where Maggie was gathering a skirt full of flowers.
"Want to make crowns Bethy? Like when we were girls?" Maggie asked, flowers woven into her hair.
"I would like a crown," Judy said, her hand clutching at Beth's.
And that was how Beth found herself sitting among wildflowers, slipping flowers into Judy's braids and weaving crowns. Judy even tried to put a crown on the dog, but Jiggs would just shake his head to knock it off. Judy even convinced Beth to take off her bonnet.
"You can't wear a crown on your bonnet." Judy said.
So, there Beth sat, her bonnet down her back like her sister, a crown of yellow, pink, and purple flowers on her head. Jiggs had his head on Beth's lap, enjoying the sun warming them. Maggie had one too, pink like her shining cheeks.
"Beth?" Judy asked, her eyes shining. "Will you tell me a story about fairies?"
"Fairies?" Maggie asked, looking over at Beth surprised.
"She means the book of those tales that Pa got from that French doctor."
They stayed there, weaving flower crowns and talking of fairy tales until Beth was sure that they were late for dinner. As they hurried back, Ma was already stirring the rabbit stew and Mrs. Grimes was making corn bread.
"You better get those children learning while we have so much light," Ma said, her eyes taking in her youngest daughters uncovered head.
"Yes Ma," Beth said. She blushed as she took the crown off of her head. "Come on Judy. Let's get you your reader."
May 25, 1852
Pa was right. After passing the fort, the traveling has been much slower. At least the weather is more pleasant. We move at about half speed compared to before, which would be restful if the road wasn't so rough. The only thing to look forward to has been the different landmarks along the way.
Chimney Rock is one of them. It is a great pillar, rising out of a mound of earth. It looks like a lonely chimney, with the rest of the house burned away. Pa says that it is at least three hundred feet tall. We saw it from about thirty miles away, from what Pa said. When we stopped to rest, Shawn accompanied Maggie and I to the rock. It took almost an hour to travel to it, and there was still the giant mound. Up close, it looks like a piece of art. Pa says that it reminds him of the Washington Monument that is being built in memory of our first president.
We then came upon Independence Rock, a large outcropping of granite set next to a stream. It was a lovely place. It is like a massive, upturned bowl in the middle of nothing. On this rock, names are on it. Some of them are carved into the rock, but others are written on it. Mr. Dixon says that it is written in a kind of grease, probably Buffalo grease he says. Pa laughs and calls the rock the "The Great Record of the Desert".
It was here though, that Mrs. Grimes complained of some stomach cramps. Instead of looking at the rock with us, she stayed with the wagons. When we returned, she said that her pains had finished. Pa worries that Mrs. Grimes may not be able to carry the babe til term. But this has been more almost two weeks ago.
"Beth, can can you get some dishes done? I need to rest for a moment."
"Of course, Mrs. Grimes," Beth said, hurrying to her feet. Mrs. Grimes was looking a bit pale. "I'll go get some water."
"Rick said there was a stream nearby. Check by those trees down the hill."
Beth took two buckets and headed over to the trees to gather water. Beth did find the stream, as Mr. Grimes said, but she was distracted before she got there. She spotted Mr. Dixon, standing still, oblivious to the world. Beth stood for a moment watching him. It was then that she spotted an abandoned wagon. Mr. Dixon was staring at it, his face blank and pale.
"Mr. Dixon?" asked Beth. He didn't move.
"Mr. Dixon?" she asked again, taking a few steps closer.A twig snapped under her feet.
The sound must have altered something in him, because Mr. Dixon turned. But he seemed to be looking right past her, his face palid.
"Are you alright Mr. Dixon?"
Mr. Dixon blinked, and his eyes seemed to focus on him, his face still pale.
"Beth," he said, his voice sharp. "Go back and tell your Pa that there is an abandoned wagon. We may be able to salvage some pieces."
Beth started, her fingers tightening around the buckets. Knowing her duty, she quickly grabbed the water Mrs. Grimes asked for, and hurried back to camp. She ended up sloshing half the water out of the buckets and onto her skirts.
We were able to salvage three of the wheels, the last one being broken. Pa thinks this was probably the reason why the wagon broke down in the first place. The men also removed an axle, the other one was already cracked. An old hope chest was on board and there were dresses, linens, and even a bolt of calico fabric. A pretty yellow fabric with red and blue flowers on it. Ma says that it is not a practical fabric, to pale to stand up to the dirt of the trail. I think Ma feels this way because she felt a little strange about taking the clothing, as they most likely belonged to someone who was dead. They were probably buried next to the wagon, Pa says. At the very least we can use the fabric of the dresses and bolt for quilts, curtains, and rugs when we get to our new home, if we will not make other uses of them. We also found some farm tools, and Pa found some lead to melt down to bullets. Pa said a small prayer for the family that was lost here. That an entire family died for us to get this little bit of a windfall.
June 17, 1852
Almost five days ago, Mrs. Grimes started having pains that kept her in bed. We kept driving, with Shawn in control of Mr. Grimes horse while he drove the oxen. I took care of Judy as usual, but I made sure she had other things on her mind. Perhaps this was for both of us, because I heard Pa had say that something might be wrong. Later that day Mrs. Grimes began heavily bleeding. Pa said that she was having a miscarriage, and that nature should take it's course. We stopped for the day.
The next day, she was still bleeding. We had passed South Pass and South Pass City and Mr. Grimes was adamant about heading towards people. Mr. Dixon said it would take too long to go back, and that they should be able to reach a fort in five days if we headed at breakneck speed. After we stopped for the night, Pa examined Mrs. Grimes in the wagon. He said that there must be a piece of the afterbirth remaining. He'd seen it in horses he'd helped foal. If he didn't get it out, she'd wouldn't make it through the week. With Mr. Grimes agreement, Pa removed the last piece of afterbirth, and the bleeding stopped.
Two days later, Mrs. Grimes started developing the signs of child-bed fever. She could keep no food down, and screamed at the slightest touch on her stomach. Her face and lips became swollen, and her tongue turned black in color. She died later that day. Pa had no idea why she passed.
We buried her today, under the open sky, with no maker to be found. Pa and Mr. Dixon dug the grave, and Mr. Grimes was nowhere to be seen. Before they placed Mrs. Grimes in the grave, Mr. Grimes showed up, silent, and stood by his children. Pa gave the sermon. Afterward, Mr. Grimes disappeared again. I kept track of the children as Ma was busy making food for everyone, and Maggie was helping her. Judy has been crying since the funeral, and I have no way of counseling the child. I would be sad if my own mother were to pass on the trail, never to see her again or mourn at her grave. Carl appears to take after his father more, his face stoic. He sometimes has looks that cross his face. Blank and unseeing. Looks similar to Mr. Dixon's when I found him by the wagon. I wonder if that is what Mr. Dixon was mourning when he was by the wagon.
"Bethy," Maggie poked her head around the wagon. "Ma's got dinner ready."
Beth looked up from the writing she was doing. She was on the bed that Maggie and her shared, with the children around her. Judith was tucked tight under her arm, and Carl was holding Judith's hand. They were not making a noise, but their cheeks were wet.
"Come'on Judy, Carl. Let's get washed up for the meal." Beth said, taking out her pocket square and wiping Judith's face. Carl had taken out his own handkerchief.
The children had no energy. Judith dragged her feet while they made their way to the wash basin, and Beth had to help her more than she should have to wash. Beth, taking pity on the girl, picked her up and and balanced her on her hip like an infant. Carl followed behind, as somber as his sister.
Ma made no comment about Beth holding Judith. It was a testament to the loss these children had, for Ma thought seven was far too old to be coddled anymore. Supper was a very somber affair. Everyone ate in silence. Beth tried to get the children to eat, placing the nicest pieces on their plate. Judith ate very little, sneaking most of it to Jiggs, and Carl ate slowly, tasting nothing.
Mr. Grimes was the same as his son. His eyes were on the fire as he put forkful after forkful of the food into his mouth. He barely said anything as Pa placed a tin cup of coffee into his hand.
The children were exhausted. Judith was all but asleep next to Beth, but her grief kept her awake. As Maggie had already taken the dishes away, Beth scooped Judith onto her lap, Judith's head fitting into her shoulder. Beth started to hum a small tune, her head pressed against the brown curls.
Mr. Grimes stopped eating at that point, and stared at Beth. Beth didn't seem to notice, as she continued to hold Judith, humming and rocking ever so slightly. Without a word, Mr. Grimes put his plate and cup down, and walked away towards his wagon.
Judith gave a little sniff, and Beth felt moisture through the neckline of her dress. Looking down, there were fresh tears in her eyes.
"What's wrong Judy?" Beth whispered. Judith said nothing as she cuddled closer into Beth's side.
"Ma used to sing that song," Carl whispered.
July 17, 1852
Mr. Grimes continues to mourn his wife. He drives and cares for his animals but he doesn't have any ability to care for his children. Maggie and I have been taken it upon ourselves to care of his children. Carl spends most of his waking hours with Maggie, and he seems to draw great comfort from her. In the evenings, he sleeps with Shawn under our wagon, leaving Mr. Grimes alone. Judy has been spending her nights between Maggie and me, close between us. She wakes during the nights from her dreams, and needs to be soothed during the night. Everyone has been quieter since the funeral. Even Mr. Dixon is quieter than normal.
Our only consolation is that we've been able to make it to pleasant lands. We made it to the Soda Springs yesterday, but it was too dark to do more than fetch water to clean and cook with. We'll be staying for a day or two to rest and hunt. Hopefully the water and fresh air can help to improve the feelings of everyone in the area.
Beth put down her journal, and looked back to laundry cooling in the wooden basin. She sighed as she pushed the laundry around with her stick, and grabbed a bucket to get more water. They were doing laundry today, especially since there was a large supply of water nearby. Laundry took a lot of water. Thankfully they were doing it together, otherwise it would take a long time. Alone, you woke up when it was dark, and you were lucky if you finished the laundry before it was dark again.
Maggie was scrubbing the clothes that had been soaking overnight. She scrubbed them for about an hour, wring them out, and then Ma would boil them to remove all critters that may be in the clothes. Then Beth would walk up and take them to the spring shore where she'd rinse them in clean, cool water. Then she'd wring them out again and place them on any clean grass and bushes she could find. It wasn't the hardest part of doing laundry, but when she was trying to keep her eyes on children too.
Carl and Judy were busy wading in the shallows the the springs. It took them some time after Mrs. Grimes passing before they were willing to play again. Now they were searching for pretty rocks at the bottom of the spring. Beth would sometimes hear a splash and then a peal of laughter. Looking up, Beth smiled. Watching the children splash each other and Jiggs, find pretty stones, and trying to catch the little fish. It was the first fun they'd seemed to have in the past month.
Mr. Dixon was also there, looking brighter than before. Along with everything else they'd found in the abandoned wagon, they had found fishing supplies. Standing in shirtsleeves and a hat, Mr. Dixon was busy fishing in the deeper waters. He had done well already, catching enough fish to feed everyone heartily. He was also helping keep an eye on the children. When they would laugh, he would glance at them. It made Beth's job much easier.
"Stop scaring away the fish," Mr. Dixon said, as Judy gave another shriek as Jiggs went bounding into the water after a stick. Although it sounds like a chastisement, his voice doesn't have any hostility.
Eventually, with the help of the children, Mr. Dixon abandoned his fishing and joined them in the spring. He spent the afternoon teaching how to skip rocks, and even a little bit of swimming. This seemed like a practical skill, especially with the incident in the river. How long ago was it?
"You can't go that deep Judy," Mr. Dixon said, dunking Judy as she tried to go into deeper water. Beth smiled as Judy splashed through the water, spitting and sputtering. Beth knew that Judy saw this as more of a game, than an actual lesson. All of their clothing was soaked through. Thankfully both Carl and Judy were wearing some threadbare clothing, so nothing is ruined by them playing in the springs.
By the end, with all the laundry rung and dried, Beth sat and enjoyed the children. Ma was ironing the clothing, which left Beth with some free time. The children were getting better at swimming, which may be important in the new territories. But now the lessons had dissolved into splashing, dunking, and laughter. It was a grand site.
"Beth! Supper's ready!"
Beth stood up to see her sister Maggie standing on the hill near camp, looking down at the spring. Beth raised her hand to her, waving.
"Come'on children!" Beth called. "Supper is ready, and you both need to get out of that wet clothing."
With that, the children scampered up the hill, laughing and playing. Beth smiled and followed them, Mr. Dixon following behind with the fish.
August 14th, 1852
Yesterday we buried Ma. She'd been sick for a few days beforehand. She got sick shortly after a rest, and had to stay in the wagon while Maggie drove. Pa was very worried about Ma, so much so that he left Shawn to drive the last of the horses with Carl. Each of them now have a second horse to watch after. With Pa in the back of the wagon, I had to move up next to Maggie, with Judy sitting between the two of us. It was too bumpy to write, and perhaps it was for the best.
When we stopped, Maggie and I were responsible for all the cooking and chores, the studies of the children forgotten. No matter how long we rested, Ma seemed to get worse and worse. Her features became gaunt, her eyes become more shrunken day by day. Near the end her skin had taken on a blue-ish tinge. Ma died the next day.
We buried her by the river, and this time Mr. Dixon and Shawn dug the grave. Pa was inconsolable, never leaving her body, wrapped in a piece of extra canvas for the wagon. Shawn gave the service, and Maggie and I watched over the children. Mr. Grimes was no where to be seen, and Pa said nothing and ate nothing all day. Maggie took care of cooking while I spent this afternoon cleaning the wagon and soaking all of the linens on the bed. I opened as much of the canvas as I could. The smell of death was heavy in the wagon.
"Beth," a small voice said.
Beth turned around to see Judy standing there.
"Yes Judy?" Beth said, tucking her journal into her apron pocket.
"Are you sad. You've lost your Ma too."
"I am sad," Beth said quietly, unsure how to answer this little girl. "But I don't have time to be sad, darling. Who would look after you if I was?"
Judy stood there, her eyes unblinking and silent. She seemed to have nothing to say, as she shifted from foot to foot.
"Well, Maggie says it's dinner," Judy said meekly, as she hurried out of the wagon.
The meal was eaten in silence, just as it was when Mrs. Grimes was buried. Yet it was so much worse. There was no comforting presence of an older, experienced woman this time. There was no Ma to put a soft hand on your shoulder, to say that grief will pass. There is no Ma to help with the rearing of two children not her own. Her Pa had no one to comfort him tonight, when there was darkness all around. He was sitting still, by the fire, unconscious to the world. At least Maggie and Beth had each other, and little Judy, to comfort them.
Beth was startled out of her thoughts when a pair of boots passed her eyesight. Mr. Dixon was standing in front of her brother.
"I wanted to offer my condolences Shawn," Mr. Dixon his hand to him. "To you and your family," he said, making eye contact with Maggie and Beth.
"We really appreciate it Mr. Dixon." Shawn said, taking the outstretched hand
"I said the same to your Pa, but he didn't hear me."
"Pa is..." Shawn faltered. There was nothing that could be said about Pa.
"Your Pa will recover," Mr. Dixon said, looking over at Pa. "It's a shock to lose someone you love."
August 21th, 1852
Less than a week after Ma passed, Pa followed her. I feel as though there is no more left to lose. My soul feels heavy now with sorrow and unshed tears. But I have no time for tears. I'm now an adult, responsible for the wellbeing of both my family and everyone else. Maggie is miserable. Her face is pale and her feet drag. I feel what I see on her face, although I'm unable to express it like her. With her mourning, I must stay strong for my family. Judith is the only comfort I have.
I pray Pa finds Ma in heaven.
August 29th, 1852
After we began our trek again, Maggie became bedridden with sorrow. She developed the fever and ague, one moment sweating and the next shivering. Shawn has been trying to treat her ever since, distracted as he tries to keep the animals and wagons together. It is a great pressure to become the head of this family.
I now drive the oxen, which are harder than I ever imagined. I also worry everyday about Judy. She sits beside me and keeps me company, but I find myself distracted that she will fall down and be trampled by the oxen or run over by the wagon wheels. But Judy does well, and follows my word well. She keeps herself safe.
With Maggie disposed of, I'm also left accountable for all the food and women chores. Judy tries to help, but she is still a little girl. Mr. Dixon has been helping Shawn with all of our family chores, as well as Carl. They are both very helpful. The only good that has come out of this death and sadness is that it seems to have brought Mr. Grimes around. He has begun to act more normally, spending time with both Judy and Carl, although he remains very quiet.
Yesterday we made it to Ft. Boise, and Shawn gave me five silver dollars to purchase some needed supplies and medicine. Thankfully Mr. Dixon has been keeping us in game, saving us from butchering our animals.
While I was heading to the general store at Ft. Boise, a man stumbled out of what I can only assume was a saloon or bar. He approached me, grabbing my arm, and told me to be quiet. I could smell the spirits on his breath as he approached me. I told him to go away or I'd scream. Just as he was about to retort, coming closer to me, Mr. Dixon showed up, asking what his business was. The man seemed to eye Mr. Dixon and walked away without a word. Mr. Dixon asked me if I was alright, and I said as much. He escorted me to the general store and stayed with me as I bought supplies. He even bought some peppermint candy, giving me three pieces. I assume this was one for the two children and possibly one for myself. I stored the candy in my hope chest wrapped in some paper.
"Beth."
Beth looked up from her journal to see her brother Shawn coming towards her. Jiggs lifted his head from her side to give Shawn a sniff, before putting it down again with a sigh. Shawn sat down next to her where she had been resting against the wagon wheel. She stayed outside of the cabin, not wanting to bother Maggie who was sleeping in Ma and Pa's bed. Judy was tucked in Beth's bed. And Carl was with his father.
"How is Maggie doing?" Beth asked.
"I think she no longer is suffering from the fever, but I don't know. Pa would know what was happening." Shawn said, his face in his hands.
"Pa isn't here, but we have you. And you are doing so well," Beth said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"And we have you. You've been working so hard. I wish I could do more to help you."
"There isn't much of a choice. I simply do what I have to."
"I wish you could have stayed in Illinois now," Shawn said, sadness and doubt in his voice. "At least Grandpa Ingalls would have found you a good husband. I don't know if I can do that."
"You'll do just fine Shawn. You can not stop now though. Maggie and I will be just fine in the Territory, as long as we have you to help us."
"I hope so," Shawn sighed, leaning back. "It's time for bed, Beth. I hope we can move on in the morning."
September 17th, 1852
We've been moving much faster, since winter is fast approaching. Mr. Dixon says that if we don't pick up the pace, we'll be unable to make it to Oregon in time to get property and make shelter. Mr. Grimes told Shawn the other day that he would be happy to help Shawn build a homestead provided we returned the favor. I pray that we all have neighboring land. In new territory, strange to all of us, it will be good to see some familiar faces.
Thankfully Maggie has been doing much better. She is still sad from time to time, but she is able to remain on her feet. We have so many chores to do, and I'm so tired now that we're moving faster. But between Maggie and Judith, we seem to get them all done.
Shawn still seems to be unsure about his ability to continue in Pa's place. He had hopes of becoming a doctor, and Pa said that there were no medical schools in the West. Shawn would have to travel back East to go to medical school. However I wonder how this will happen. Shawn had wanted to go to medical school back in Illinois, at Rush Medical School, like our Now he seems to doubt he would ever be able to make his way back East. He will do his duty, and won't go back if he is unable to find good husbands for Maggie and I. He told me the other night that he'd never leave us unwed, with no financial and family support.
"Beth!"
Judy and Carl had come back with water, Jiggs right behind, so Beth could start washing dishes. "Can we go with Maggie to take care of the animals? We want to see the little calves."
"Go on, but stay away from the cows unless Maggie is with you. And keep that dog back. Those cows are very protective of their young!"
Beth started the washing, separating some of the water into the pot to boil, leaving the rest to rinse. She was washing the morning dishes when she heard a rustling behind her. Turning about, she saw Mr. Dixon coming back, a brace of rabbits in each hand.
"You all alone here?" Mr. Dixon asked, looking around the camp.
"I suppose so," Beth said, continuing to wash dishes, oddly conscious of the wet spots on her apron. "Shawn and Mr. Grimes are still hunting, and Maggie and the children are with the animals."
Mr. Dixon just stood there, looking around the camp silent.
"Those hares will do wonderfully in a stew," Beth said, continuing her chores. "If you skin and clean them, I'll cook them up."
So they continued that way, with Beth doing laundry and Mr. Dixon skinning the rabbits.
"I've been wanting to thank you," Beth said, "for coming to my aid at Fort Boise. I never did thank you properly."
He was quiet for a time, apparently lost in his thoughts."You remind me of my first wife," he said finally, his knife stopping.
"Oh," Beth said, drying her hands on her apron. "I didn't know you were married."
"About five years ago, my family and I traveled on the Oregon Trail. We didn't even make it to the springs. By the time I hit Fort Brider, I was alone. My wife and three young children were dead and buried. I sold what I had on the wagon, took provisions and headed back East on horseback. I had nothing left for me in the West, or at least I thought so. Not until this past year when I had nothing left in the East. That's when I decided to try my luck again."
Beth had never heard Mr. Dixon talk so much. She was just about to reply, when Judy and Carl came running and squealing up, racing Jiggs. Maggie was behind them all, with a pail of new milk in her hand.
"Let me take over the dishes Bethy, and you can start working at dinner." Maggie looked between Beth and Daryl, but said nothing about it.
"Are those hares ready Mr. Dixon?"
"Most of them."
Beth walked over to Mr. Dixon and took the three rabbits he offered her.
"I'll give you the last one when we're done," he said, looking into her eyes.
Beth felt slightly flustered as she made dinner, under the watchful eye of her older sister.
October 15th, 1852
We're finally here! We've finally made it! After seven long, grueling months, we've finally made it to the valley. I feel as giddy as a child, my heart brimming with the excitement of it all. It makes it feel as though all the trials, troubles, and heartache that everyone experienced on the trail was worth it.
We've stopped at the edge of the valley, giving ourselves to take stock, enjoy our afternoon meal, and clean up a bit. Ma always said first impressions were important.
"Time to pack up Beth!" Maggie called, tossing the water from the dishes into the bushes.
Beth quickly pocketed her journal, ready to continue. Everyone ran around, getting everything ready to travel again, for the last time. Jiggs was of course getting in the way. Ahead of them was a place to stay, to farm, to raise a family, and to leave to their children.
With all the animals ready, Maggie driving one wagon and Beth the other, the group of pioneers mounted their horses, ready to move on. Waiting for something.
"Lets head out," Shawn said, looking down in the valley.
With that, the oxen began moving, carrying everything they had to their name down the valley. Ready to begin their new lives in a new territory.
Beth couldn't wait to see what the next entry in her journal was going to be. She was excited and scared to start again. They'd loss so much, but her heart was filled with joy as their trials were coming to an end. She felt she must sing, or she'd surely die.
March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,
Why my lads dinna ye march forward in order?
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,
All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.
Her voice was strong and it carried her happiness with it. She set the pace as they traveled, singing song after song, with voices of her family joining in. They may have many tales to tell from the trail, some sad and some glad. But for now they had nothing by joy in their hearts and songs, fore they were making their way to new lands and lives.
Together in Oregon.
The End.