by J. F. Collen
“Fall in behind now,” Magruder commanded, pleased to have unbalanced Nellie again. “If I cannot slow my horse sufficiently to keep pace with them oxen, ye’ll find my troops camped right near the old Caldwell Camp. Any of the townsfolk can tell ye where it is.”
“But what is it?” asked Nellie.
Magruder laughed. “Still the enquiring student, I see.” Obadiah threw him a look and Magruder changed his familiar tone. “Fiddlesticks, it is nothing but available land right now. A few years back, it served as the settlement of the Potawatomi after the Treaty of Chicago. They’ve vacated camp now, led by Billy Caldwell. Like I told ye, that’s the English name of the half-breed, the aforementioned Chief Sauganash. Yep, we pushed ‘em further west.”
As they drove to the camp, Nellie whispered to Obadiah, “I fervently pray that our stay here, surrounded by donkey jockeys, gamblers, and thieves, will be short-lived.” Nellie looked from side to side as she drove the wagon, grateful that Obadiah kept his horse creeping at their side.
“Neglect not mention of the assassins,” said Obadiah. Nellie looked at him aghast. He nodded his head toward a particularly unsavory, grizzled man, six-gun belted at his waist, rifle slung across his back. Obadiah laughed and promised, “You’ll have a tougher skin after just a few weeks into our land journey.”
Forsooth, I discern no desirable benefits of such a state; how could callousness benefit my shrewdness? Is Mr. Wright intimating the presence of so many perils, so many terrors in our passage, I shall simply become impervious? Nellie shuddered.
“May I and your daughters accompany you on your reconnoiter of the wagons?” asked Cornelia.
Obadiah frowned. “My scouting shall be more expeditious and efficacious conducted alone. You must remain with the wagon and set up camp. I envision the inauguration of your Christmas shovel! Mayhap you can instigate some limb stretching for our fair daughters in between inventorying our supplies.”
Nellie sighed. I am surprised he so unreservedly abandons me to the company of Magruder. Yet, his reasoning is undoubtedly sound. In all probability, we have less to fear from a former beau than a town of ruthless and predatory fortune hunters. She sighed again. My husband speaks the truth. There are, always, so many details to attend. The animals need picketing and watering. Elizabeth has ripped her petticoat, and it must be mended today, for she has no other. Emma’s shoes need evaluation—we cannot very well begin our journey walking to Utah Territory in ill-fitting footwear.
Upon their arrival at the camp of Magruder and his troops, Nellie gave a silent squeal of delight. Magruder leased a property containing two cottages, in addition to the wide-open land for housing tents. He generously offered his own cottage to the Entwhistles, for the duration of their stay, saying he would bunk with his second in command.
“Mama, look at the teepees!” said Emma, clasping her hands.
Magruder laughed, “Yup, ye’ll see plenty of upturned sod and buffalo skin stretched over poles still standing in Caldwell’s camp.” He winked at Cornelia. “‘Tis quite picturesque.”
“But girls, what causes your look of disappointment?” asked Nellie. “The cottage is lovely. Why, it even contains two beds! Most assuredly luxurious accommodations, especially when compared to our last travel dwelling, the house outside of Toledo.”
“We left home years ago,” said Emma. “But we have yet to camp in our wagon.”
Nellie laughed. “‘Tis well our anticipation remains at peak. We haven’t half begun our journey.”
Chapter 27 – Stop! In the Name of Love
Council Bluffs, Iowa, April 1857
Obadiah secured them a place in a wagon train of speculators, homesteaders and prospectors leaving for California in two days.
“I thought we preferred an immediate departure?” Nellie asked.
“We shan’t let our personal discomfiture at accepting Magruder’s hospitality elicit a rash decision. A capable man named Hines spearheads the organization of this particular train’s fifty wagons. I have it on good authority; he is an experienced pioneer, having thrice made the journey. As our provisional captain, he makes preparations for a Wednesday exodus,” Obadiah explained.
Magruder approached them in time to hear their plan for departure.
“By the great horn spoon!” cried Magruder. “Two days shall ensure time to settle yer hash and partake in some of our cultured social activities. Hobnobbing with high society being yer forté, if’n I remember, Nellie. Tonight, we dine at Grenville Dodge’s, the aforementioned highly regarded and highly reputable citizen. After a wide-ranging and comprehensive survey of this area, Dodge selected Council Bluffs, at that time known as Kanesville, as a suitable terminus for the Rock Island Railroad. Not content to rest on them laurels, he’s established a banking house that finances any and all construction around these parts.”
Nellie remained unimpressed. Mercy, half our neighbors back in Sing Sing claim the prominence of bankers, lawyers, or editors of New York City newspapers. Why thinks he this is noteworthy?
“Yep, Dodge is a banker now. He’s got the prettiest wife in Council Bluffs. Although, Nell, ye’ll give her a run for the money!” Magruder winked and Nellie blushed. Confound that man, he still makes me blush like a schoolgirl. “Yessir, his soirees are the talk of the town. Now it just so happens, by the by, I have been invited for dinner there tonight, and my hint to the hostess shall surely result in an extension of the invitation to include two more persons.”
“Four more persons,” corrected Cornelia.
Magruder took a step back in surprise. He raised his eyebrows. A light dawned in his face and he said, “One of my men would be happy to entertain yer little ladies for the evening while we dine.”
“Out of the question,” snapped Nellie. “Goodness! I shan’t even humor such a preposterous notion. I suppose we must simply miss the finest social opportunity of this town.” She shook her head.
Magruder leaned in towards her, just a little too close. “Fiddlesticks, Cornelia Rose, don’t carry on so. For old time’s sake, I was jest trying to give ye what might be yer last taste of society for a long time to come.”
Nellie blushed again. “Captain Magruder, I do apologize. I have been remiss in employing my manners. Undoubtedly, I appreciate your gallant efforts to entertain me. I take myself to task for failing to grasp a bachelor would have no understanding of a mother’s reticence to leave her children in parts unknown, with whom-knows-who, to attend a social occasion, no matter how fine.”
Magruder bowed stiffly and said through pursed lips, “I would have entrusted no one but my aide-de-camp—an upright gentleman hardly deserving a ‘who-knows-who’ moniker. Howsoever, ‘nuf said.” He forced a smile. “It is always a delight to entertain ye my dear.”
Magruder hung his head and shook it sadly. “Yer don’t know it, but yer passing up some pumpkins. I don’t like to blow my own horn....” Suddenly he grinned, his old spirit returning in a flash. “But there is no one present to vouch for me! I am an influential man—very well connected. Not just in Council Bluffs, but in all of Iowa and half of Nebraska Territory. I don’t need to ride on old Grenville Dodge’s coattails; I have earned quite the prestigious reputation myself. I guarantee the finest company, victuals, and entertainment, if ye join me.”
Nellie’s face softened, but she did not soften her resolve. “I tender my most sincere regrets, I cannot attend without my children.”
Apparently Magruder’s need for old friends outweighs his desire to be the talk of the town, Nellie thought to herself, when Magruder’s aid presented her a handwritten invitation, addressed to each member of the Wright family, to dine at Captain Magruder’s house for dinner. I am quite certain my charming daughters shall affirm to the dear captain he made the correct decision.
That night’s sleeping accommodations were as comfortable as Agnes’ huge house in Chicago. The next morning, Nellie permitted herself an additional moment of luxurious stretching before jumping out of bed to see abo
ut breakfast preparations. I must confess, the thought of sleeping another night in a real feather bed is simply delightful. I shall savor the comfort! Surely a multitude of months shall pass before I am again favored with that pleasure.
The day flew by in a rush of final preparations. After she and Obadiah obtained the last few requirements for their journey, Nellie and her daughters left him haggling over a purchase price for three head of cattle. They set off for Edwin Carter’s dry goods store. Trained as the army post’s sutler, Mr. Carter had perfected his ability to barter. The three Wright women oohed and aahed over the array of fine goods displayed, and Mr. Carter prepared for battle.
Longingly, Nellie fingered the one bolt of velvet cloth on display.
“I can picture that cloth, all done up right purdy, on you now, little lady,” said Mr. Carter, his voice oily with slick salesmanship. “For just two dollars you can take it home with you right now.”
“Two dollars?” asked Nellie, aghast. She dropped the cloth as if it burned her fingers.
Mr. Carter scratched his head, assuming an injured air. “What a hard bargain you drive!” He smiled an oily smile. “Doggone it! But for you, little lady, the whole piece for just one dollar and fifty cents. Just take it and walk out that door back home.”
Nellie fingered the material again. It was a deep scarlet red, her favorite color, and she could picture it, sewn with a flounced skirt and a bright white lace collar and cuffs. Mercy, what occasion in the prairie wilderness would ever necessitate such attire? Furthermore, she told herself, I already have my green velvet gown tucked around some precious jewelry for just such an imaginary occasion. I must be practical. She sighed and swept a loose strand of hair from her eyes. “I am afraid my home is too far away to make that proposition practical.” She turned away and walked toward the back of the store.
Her girls ran from the pickle barrel, around the shovels, picks and axes, past the bins of brick-a-brack, pins and needles and back to the cash register, exclaiming over all the beautiful merchandise, pretending they were purchasing one of every good in the store. Nellie smiled, finding happiness in their simple joy. While selecting some cheesecloth for her butter making, a long strip of white linen in the remnant bin caught her eye.
She jumped. Mr. Carter had snuck up behind her while she pawed through the remnants and examined the linen.
“Aw heck,” said Mr. Carter. “That bit o’ cloth won’t nearly do you justice. But it just so happens....” He gave a wink. “It’ll make some mighty fine collars and cuffs. Just for you now, my little lady, I’ll let it slip through my fingers for twenty cents.”
Mayhap, far more accurately, slip through your greedy clutches. Nellie tugged at a stray strand of hair, hesitating.
“Dad-blame it, I’ll hang up my fiddle,” said Mr. Carter. He looked right and left, as if to confirm no one else in the store was within earshot. He whispered, “I’ll give you the whole piece for a nickel.”
Impulsively, she purchased it. Mercy, ‘tis still highway robbery! Peter Stuyvesant bought the whole island of Manhattan for only sixty guilders, and some of that value was in trade! Before she could suffer more buyers’ remorse, she hurried her two girls back to their temporary home for a short rest.
While her girls lay sleeping, she cut the linen into squares for handkerchiefs. With a little lace, this cloth shall be big enough for five handkerchiefs. She took the largest one, crocheted a border of edging, and embroidered the initials WTM.
She was just knotting her thread when Emma awoke and exclaimed, “You’ve already made a new handkerchief for Papa, ‘cause Devil, the ox, put a horn through his old one!”
Nellie blushed. Mercy, when did that mishap occur? I hadn’t even noticed.
“No, I shall crochet the edge on one for your father as we travel,” answered Nell. “It is a thank you gift for Captain Magruder. One must never accept hospitality without a proper and fitting expression of gratitude.”
Emma nodded gravely, and Nellie blushed again.
The day of their wagon train departure dawned. The Wright family arrived at the trailhead. In the uncertain light of early morning, Nellie watched with dismay as disheveled figures scrambled to assemble livestock and belongings. The company consists mostly of men. The scarcity of women in this pack of grizzled fortune seekers is most disheartening. Are so few women hardy enough to undertake this adventure?
Obadiah scurried around, feeding the oxen, chatting with Captain Hines, and saddling his horse. Nellie, fully packed and ready to go, stood observing the activities of her fellow travelers.
Suddenly, Magruder materialized from behind a tree and stood right in front of her. “You were sadly mistaken, Mistress Entwhistle, if you were under the impression it was acceptable to quit the most important man in Council Bluffs without a proper goodbye,” he said, feigning anger. He put his hand on her arm.
“Why, I left you a note, containing a little remembrance, in appreciation of your hospitality,” Nellie protested.
“Perhaps ‘proper’ was not the correct word. In fact, perhaps your adieu was too proper,” he said. He took a quick look around him. Ascertaining no one observed them, he stepped in and kissed Nellie directly on the lips. “A lady does not embroider a handkerchief for a gentleman for whom she cares naught. I understand your meaning—I shall await your return,” he whispered.
A fellow traveler ran by, chasing a chicken. Nellie jumped backwards, using the squawking commotion to recover her composure.
She tugged at a strand of her hair, uncertain as to how to diplomatically handle this unexpected ambush.
Magruder advanced toward her again. “Thank you kindly for this fine handkerchief. I shall keep it close to my heart.... “He put it in his breast pocket. “Not to use... but to treasure, for it possesses your spirit, retaining you nearby until the day we meet again.”
Before Nellie could disillusion Magruder, he picked up her gloved hand, kissed it, turned on his heel, and marched back to his horse.
He jumped in his saddle, raised his hand in salute, and turned his horse away. Nellie nodded politely to his retreating back. He glanced back, saw her still watching, pulled his hat off, whooped, and galloped away.
Not only is he a braggadocio, he’s a theatrical one at that. Nellie burst out laughing.
She was still in fine spirits as Captain Hines, commandeering the first wagon in the train, raised his hand, gestured forward, and moved his team onto the road.
Obadiah shouted, “Giddy up!” and they pulled to their place behind the tenth wagon. Nellie giggled at the rear view of the overflowing wagon ahead. Pots and barrels swung, suspended off the wagon’s sides, bits of material and furniture protruded from the opening in the back and scores of children ran around it. Emma and Elizabeth might find gainful employment, retrieving fallen items from this burgeoning prairie schooner.
Nellie noticed an impressive granite building as they trundled along the road, and pointed it out to Obadiah.
“Behold the Kanesville Tabernacle,” he said. “The Latter-day Saints founded this town as its winter quarters during The Great Mormon Migration of 1846. Quite a large community of Saints dwelt here, but now they have piled all their worldly possession in handcarts and joined us on the trail to The Great Salt Lake City.”
Chapter 28 – Bright Side of the Road
Merging Trails, Nebraska Territory, April 1857
I do believe the terrain changed the minute we left Council Bluffs, Iowa. Truly, when we crossed the Missouri River at Bullard’s Ferry, left the United States and stepped foot in Nebraska Territory, the forests disappeared. Tall grass waved as far as the eye could see. The sound of the wind escalated from barely audible to a noticeable murmur. The expanse of this plain stretches so tremendously, I feel like a mere speck on the face of the earth!
Nellie walked beside the oxen, nudging them every once in a while, guiding them on the path. Obadiah rode up, his stint at herding and guarding the train’s livestock concluded for the day. He hitch
ed his horse behind their rolling wagon and joined Nellie. As they trudged alongside their wagon, one of the wagoneers approached Obadiah. Without any introduction or preamble, the man said, “The security of our entire party depends upon the judicious selection of a campsite.”
Obadiah and Nellie exchanged glances.
Obadiah cleared his throat, nodded, and said, “I am certain you are quite right, my good man.”
The man nodded back. “In this hostile Indian Territory, our first inquiry should be ascertaining a locality with defense capacity. A concave bend in the river stream, with deep water and a soft alluvial bed, enclosed by high and abrupt banks will be the most defensible.”
Obadiah and Nellie exchanged another glance, this time with raised eyebrows and uplifted corners of their mouths. “I am uncertain as to whether that particular topography presents itself along this section of the trail,” Obadiah said.
The man shoved his oversized hat back above his eyebrows and continued as if he had not heard. “All the more should the concavity form a peninsula. The advantages of such a position are obvious to the skilled pioneer—a diminished need for sentinels, a defense of crossed fire in case of attack on the exposed side. Furthermore, the bend of the stream will form an excellent corral, thus preventing a stampede of the animals.”
“Stampede?” said Emma, eyes wide with fright. Elizabeth burst into tears. Obadiah and Nellie immediately scooped the children off the wagon bench and into their arms, all the while walking forward.
Still talking, the man fell back and directed his stream of thought to the next party.
“An odd fellow, by all accounts,” said Nellie, over the top of Elizabeth’s head, as she hugged her tight.
“Methinks he quoted directly from a guidebook. He hardly looked the part of an experienced pioneer,” replied Obadiah with a grin.
“Did his shiny new boots reveal his rawness?” asked Nellie with a giggle. “Or was it his fear-filled eyes, peeping out from underneath the ill-fitted new hat?”