Daria on the Trail Captain Ridge Departs

DISCLAIMER: I do not own either A Song of Ice and Fire or A Game of Thrones. Nor do I own Daria Morgendorffer. The setting is the Oregon Trail in the summer of 1860 and is based on my research on the real Oregon Trail, not the computer game of the same name.

This story is written for my amusement and ego gratification, not for profit. If you are enjoying this story, please write and post a review.

Advisory: Foul Language. Most adult male pioneers had a very salty vocabulary.

Reminder: This story owes much to an idea by Ultimate Paladin on a different web site.

Daria On The Trail*Daria On The Trail*Daria On The Trail

Orrick Trout POV

The Lieutenant took his leave and I was left wondering if he'd come back with more questions. Possibly. I made a note to myself to ask how armies dealt with information in Daria's time. Back in Westeros, gathering tales concerning possible foemen's strengths and weaknesses had sometimes been left to individual lords' spies, not those of a kingdom as a whole. That was certainly true of the Tullys and possibly the Arryns, although the Lannisters had firmly gathered such activities under the grip of Casterly Rock. Whatever the case was on this side of the Arch, it seemed that the ministers of war and state shared little information about the Seven Kingdoms with the officers at Fort Laramie. I was not at all sure that was a wise idea.

I decided to put aside such thoughts until after sunset. In the meantime, there was still much to be done while there was light: reordering our Company's campsite and beginning my inspection of the wagons and animals of those families who would remain with our company. My wagons were still in good repair, as was Georg Stauffer's, who'd used our all-too-brief stay at Fort Kearny to repair his wagon. I then set my attention to the Howell family's wagon. One look at their wheel rims made me wonder why their tires were still attached to their wheel rims: I finally concluded that they'd been given a special favor by the Smith. Howell was with me: I told him that his wagon needed repairs and that they badly needed work by the Fort's blacksmith. Shaking my head, I then turned my attention to the Wooleys' wagon. It too needed work: the iron tires weren't loose enough yet to cause trouble, but they were getting there. I suspected that we'd need to be here for the better part of a week before we were ready to continue westwards.

I walked back to my wagon and saw Daria reading aloud from one of the guide books she'd bought at the Sutler's store. To my surprise, I saw that Kennard was paying attention while Jilla and Minti looked like they were losing interest: Minti was playing with a piece of grass she'd plucked from somewhere.

"So what have you learned of the trail, my son?" I asked Kennard.

"I've learned that we probably have to cross some more streams but we won't have to cross the Platte River for several days," Kennard replied. "We won't have to ford the river; we can take a bridge across. Daria says that the place had a different name where she came from: she called it Casper and said that it was named by someone who hasn't been massacred yet."

Now there was a cheery thought. "Anything after that?" I said.

"Daria says that the road leaves the Platte beyond Casper and goes across dry country to another river called the Sweetwater," Kennard replied. "She says that we should be wary of the water between the Platte and the Sweetwater. Some of it is bad for the animals." He made a face. "Is it? Water is water, at least if it isn't polluted."

Old memories came up, events from my time as a caravanner when I traveled into Dorne. For a moment, I again saw myself as a young man standing by a camp site watching as the leader of my caravan tongue-lashed a boy for allowing the mules to drink from certain pools. One had died, two were very sick and our caravan had been delayed for several days until the sickly ones were able to walk. Even then, the leader had been forced to leave valuable merchandise behing.

"Not necessarily," I replied. "Sometimes water can be poisonous even if there isn't shit or dead things in it. I remember such things from when I went down to Dorne and back." Kennard saw my expression and looked thoughtful. I then realized that he resented Daria enough that he didn't want to believe anything she said. "We'll ask the soldiers or one of the carters headed east," I said. That cheered him up. The carters knew much about this wide new land.

I looked over a couple more wagons, checked the sun's position in the sky, and decided that it was time to start writing. It was already near midsummer and night was still some hours away, but it could take time to put words on paper. I went rummaged through my wagon and found paper, pen and ink. I counted my blessings for not having to use a quill like my father would have: the Yankees had developed iron-tipped pens and they caught on like Wildfyre.

I looked for Kara and found that she was taking down laundry from the clothesline she and Mrs. Howell had strung between the stays of our respective wagon-covers. "I'm writing letters to Brother Osgood at Westport and to Merrit Laughingwater back in the old village. Perhaps you would like to write someone, too?"

"I'd like that," she said. Kara spoke little of it, but she sorely missed the friends and family she'd left on the other side of the Arch. She walked over to where Daria was reading a description of the route over South Pass and said something. Daria nodded, closed the book, and walked back to the wagon. A short time later, Kara had pen and paper in hand and started composing her own letters.

-(((O-O)))—

"There, finally done," said Kara. She waited for a moment, sprinkled a little sand on her paper, then blew it dry.

"I'm ready to walk to the Fort," I said.

"Will you be stopping by the Post Office?" said Kara.

"I will," I said. "I have letters to send." I'd written my letters in Andal and had gotten Daria to write the addressees' names with the English letters on the envelopes.

I walked to the Fort, a much shorter distance that each day's journey across the endless grasslands. I had yet to learn just where the Sutler's store was located, and by the time I found it, I learned that the store was closing. As for the post office, I was chagrined to learn that it was closed for the day. We would not be able to mail our letters until the following morn.

I returned to camp to find that Daria of all people was cooking dinner.

"So you can cook after all," I said.

She gave one of her little smiles and "After a fashion."

"So what are we eating?" I asked.

"Beans with bacon and flatbread," she said.

"I didn't know that we had any beans," I said. "Where did you find them?"

"I found them while scavenging," said Daria. "Someone had left a bag behind."

"You know that we can't take your beans with us," I said. "We will have to lighten our loads."

"I know," said Daria. "But if we eat the beans here, we won't have to carry them with us and that will allow us to stretch our supplies."

I thought over her words and decided that what she said made good sense. One of my worries was that our journey would outlast our supplies. Despite the fact that Daria had joined us less than a fortnight ago, it was clear that she had also been concerned about our provisions and had been trying to do something about it.

Daria and Willem stayed by our campfire to clean up our dishes. Kara and I retired to our blankets. We were sleeping under the stars, hoping that our rest would not be disturbed by rain or strong winds. I had difficulty getting to sleep that evening. There was so much to do and I worried about how well the rest of our Company prepare for the upcoming journey across the mountains.

Over an hour later I still couldn't sleep. I looked up and gazed at the strange stars twinkling overhead.

"Are you still awake?" said Kara.

"Aye," I replied.

"So what are you thinking?" she said. I told her that I was worried about our company, the state of our wagons and beasts, whether we'd find enough people to replace those who would be leaving with Ridge in the morning, and how we would fare when we left the fort. I then asked her what she was worried about.

"I fear some for the journey ahead," she said. "I think you're a good captain. You're probably as good as any on the Overland Road right now. But I do fear for those who've chosen to follow that fool Ridge. I fear that many of them will come to grief."

"So do I," I said. "I wish them safe journeys to Oregon but I fear we'll see many of them again on the side of the Trail coping with the results of Ridge's folly."

I stared at the stars a little longer. I'd heard that some people believed that they could read the future or tell fortunes by looking at the stars. I lacked that gift. Wondering what might happen come the morn, I fell asleep.

-(((O-O)))-

We awoke early the next morning, just as we had for our daily journey across the grasslands. Not that we ourselves were traveling this day: Thomas Ridge might be setting out but our shrunken company would be repairing our wagons, resting our animals and sorting our belongings to discard non-essentials and keep what we'd need for our journey across the mountains and beyond.

We ate a hasty breakfast and walked over to where Ridge and his people were camped. Our former companions had yoked their oxen and loaded their wagons and were ready to begin their journey up the Platte towards the mountains. At least they think they are, a voice said in my head. I looked at their faces: most of them were eager to depart. Some waved at Kara, me, and our children, a few looked away. Despite our old company's break-up and our differences, I still saw them as friends and companions. Some of the women smiled and called out to Kara as did some of the children to Kennard, Jilla and Minti.

I stole a few moments here and there to glance at Ridge's wagons and grimaced. At least two of his people's wagons were about to lose their iron tires. I wondered just how far down the trail they would get. I hoped that if they did break down, they'd do it close to someplace where they could get help.

I reached the front of Ridge's train. Ridge was strutting like a rooster. "Come to see us off, eh?" he said.

"Aye," I said. "We did travel together for weeks, so of course we want to say our farewells."

"And you didn't think we're not ready to get back on the road," he scoffed.

"That's right," I said. I still don't, I thought but didn't say.

"Well I think you're a frightened old woman who hides his cowardice behind a mask of caution," he said.

Those were fighting words. I barely held myself back from throwing myself at him. I wanted nothing more than to slug him. He scored a hit but he's still a fool, an unbidden voice whispered in my ear. I settled for glaring at him.

I tore my sight away from Ridge and looked over his company. It still made a brave show despite the weeks on the trail. I wondered how far they'll get. Ridge gave his son Johnny a nod and Johnny responded by blowing his trumpet.

"WE'RE OFF TO OREGON!" Ridge shouted. "We'll get there before the winter snows!" With that, his train began to roll west.

Looking back, it would have made for a brave show worthy of any Mummer's performance, a pageant worthy of any holiday until Harry Bass stormed up and shouted "Thomas Ridge, you G_d d_mn stinking son of a bitch, how dare you leave me and my family behind! You knew d_n well that I was going to get the blacksmith to work on my tires today and you up and leave without giving me and my family a chance to repair our outfit and pack our wagon. You stinking asshole, I hope you break down on the trail, you shit!

Ridge didn't stop. The only thing he did was to turn to Bass, raise his voice and shout "We're leaving now and we don't stop for lolly-gaggers! If you can't keep up, try your chances with Trout!" And with that he resumed his march away from the camp.

I scowled as Ridge's company rolled away. "So this is how he's going to treat his followers, I thought. This was even worse than his behavior at Windlass Hill. This journey would not go well for his followers.

I wondered which of his company's wagons would have the first breakdown.