The new natives of central Utah, once known by Scandinavian surnames and prone to being blond and blue-eyed, became fierce and treacherous. By the time trade routes were reestablished, they were unrecognizable as once having been civilized. The most apparent manifestation of this was that they filed their front teeth to points. That, and the tribal tattoos depicting blood rituals, as well as mutilation that left strips of skin hanging from under the chin and from the cheeks, led to them being feared and avoided. The stories were feared… but reality was worse.
Till would not lead the wagon train on the southern trail.
The alternate route to Denver led through Salt Lake and up along I-80 through the growing town where Coalville once stood. The route to the east of the devastated city was lush with grass and had water in abundance through the mountains. Steep grades, some very long, were interspersed with places to rest animals used in heavy labor.
An easy decision having been made, Cy directed the wagons through the obstacles that Salt Lake City presented, and in two days they were ready to start climbing the old Parley’s Canyon summit.
§
Young Edge hitched all of the oxen in a long line. The two wagons would be pulled in tandem, one behind the other. That meant they were short one ox due to the missing cow. The animals picked up in Elko had survived the trip across the Salt Flats and were back to gaining weight, but they were still light for their frame. Edge knew the best place for them would be in the front of the hitch. The heaviest animals would be the ones closest to the wagons because that was where the weight would make the most difference. That gave them eleven span to get the two wagons to the top and one odd animal with no partner.
There were ways to lighten the loads, and people were busy getting inventive. A solution presented itself to Muffy, and she spoke of the idea to the two men.
Occam was emptying the barrels. There would be water at every stop ahead as they camped.
Watching the dark spot spread from beneath the bung in the barrel, the young woman knit her brow and gathered her thoughts.
“Why not use the hand cart? If we use it, we shan’t have the weight on the wagons.”
Occam looked skeptical, and laughed. “Well, sure, if you wish to pull it. I’m well sure that’s not going to work, my love.”
Edge was listening from inside the wagon as he adjusted the load forward.
Muffy shook her head. Men were so thick sometimes.
“No, my dear one, I have no need to pull. We have an ox for that.”
Speaking through the canvas, Edge asked, “How do we harness the beast? The horse collars are returned to their owner, and one ox won’t fill a yoke.”
“The breast band of a saddle will fill the necessity,” said Muffy, “and a cinch strap over and under to keep it in place.”
One of the reasons Occam loved the woman was that her mind was sharp. He thought about the proposal, and she allowed her man the time to cogitate. Muffy recognized that men needed that kind of thing.
“I suppose we could take the crossbar from between the shafts and hook the beast to them,” suggested Occam.
By this time Edge was done and had stuck his head from beneath the canvas.
“Pardon, Master, but why not cut some saplings and extend the shafts? There be little need to dismantle anything.”
Again, Occam looked thoughtful, and he smiled as he said, “Aye, lad, a good thought. Can you manage the cutting while I assemble the cart?”
With a satisfied look on her face, Muffy went back to work on other things. Her seed was planted in fertile soil, and the men by now had forgotten that it was her idea. She had done her part.
The cart was assembled and the saplings bound tightly to the side pull shafts. The lightest ox from Elko was placed between them, and with the help of some useful knots a rope finished the harness. The animal seemed willing to tolerate the strange use as he chewed his cud with eyelids drooping.
Once the conveyance was put together, some of the others made similar arrangements with carts they carried. Most used horses to pull them, and all placed a light load in the little carts. A couple hundred pounds could make a great difference on the long pull to come.
Once again, the Smithy wagon was close to the rear of the train. The Company wagons were grouped at the head. The Ox Master, Arc, had used every yoke they had to situate the teams in long lines of animals pulling double and even triple wagons. Each was coupled with the heaviest conveyance in the front and any bulls or heavy steers in the rear of each hitch.
Edge positioned himself next to the lead team of their hitch, and Occam stayed back with a bullwhip at the ready. He used it for effect as he snapped it over the heads of the oxen.
Following behind, Muffy led the single ox with the handcart, a lead attached to the ring in its nose.
Surprisingly, in the years of neglect over the last two centuries, the road was mostly clear of obstacles. Where there had once been a clear creek filled with cutthroat trout, the deteriorating cement of the highway filled the cavity from side to side and provided good footing for animals and wagons.
Cement barriers used to separate oncoming lanes had over time been moved so that openings were formed between them. In places where the hillsides had collapsed and filled one side or the other with rock and broken trees, the openings provided a winding path to the side not blocked and kept the debris from overflowing onto the whole road.
With so many animals having been lost on the Salt Flats, the wagons were a heavy burden for the Company teams. Riding the chestnut up and down the line, Arc admonished his men to crack the whip and keep the wagons moving. By the time they pulled the last grade for the day and into an area once used as a golf course, halfway to the pass, many of his oxen were stumbling, and their tongues were hanging from their mouths. When unhitched they stood without moving, exhausted.
The pull toward the summit tomorrow would be an even steeper grade, though shorter. Even in the days of heavy motors and internal combustion, the hill was a killer. If not the drivetrain when going uphill, then the brakes coming down were destroyed regularly. The runaway truck lanes, once deep, soft gravel intended to sink a truck to its axles and stop it, were overgrown and invisible to the wagoneers.
The hours of rest halfway up the long grade were telling on the stock. Occam and Edge, as well as others, went about checking all of the oxen. They were especially interested in their feet and the shoes they wore. The evening was spent reshoeing several. Since oxen have a hard time standing on three legs, and they had no cradle to support the massive beasts as they did at home, they threw them to the ground. Tying the front feet close together, they attached a rope to the hind foot on the side they wanted the ox to go down on. A quick and forceful jerk, bringing the hoof up under the animal, resulted in a sudden fall to the side. Someone was waiting to sit on the animal’s head immediately. They did not want any struggling for fear of injury, and keeping the head down calmed the beast. The new shoes were applied, the ropes removed, and the animal would lumber to its feet unscathed and prepared for miles to come.
After inspecting the next rise, Cy and Cable returned to the evening camp and made their way toward the Wagon Master’s Conestoga. Jody waylaid them and asked her brother about the road ahead. She had heard from her father that the pull would be intense over the pass, and they confirmed what he had said. She took it all in and decided to trail the men to the meeting so she could listen.
§
One of the advantages to guiding was the opportunity to see the landscape before others scared the wildlife away. Guides and outriders became the hunters for any group.
Working as a team, Cy and Cable provided fresh venison to the train when they pulled into the circle half way to the summit. They hung the gutted deer in the shadow of trees next to the creek where it was cool and waited for the rest to arrive.
Becoming good friends in their time together, the two were learning to depend on each other. Cable had been miffed as Occam insisted that
Edge stay busy in his training. He had expected that he and Edge would have opportunities for adventure during the trip, but his friend was occupied with work. The young guide, Cy, was a ready alternative, and Cable welcomed him.
Shepherding the mission while forced to deal with the death of his father, Cypress had grown up significantly. In taking control of the welfare of the caravan, he had matured and come into his own. His personality made him a natural leader, and being tested early he was proving worthy to the men of the train. An unimposing man of average height with milk-chocolate skin, dark, tightly-curled hair, and startling gold-flecked, green eyes, he was admired by many of the women on the train as well. He was beautiful with fine features, a strong jaw, and a corrugated stomach.
Between the two riders, Cy and the tousled, blond Cable, a good portion of the women in the wagon train had interesting dreams.
Watching from the tailgate of the wagon as he worked, Edge wished he could be included. His natural curiosity of all things helped him realize that the friendship between the two outriders was growing, and he missed Cable. He was envious. He would have liked time to ride ahead with both men and to get to know Jody’s brother. He felt like a hermit with the wagon as his cave.
While her brother and his new friend were often missing from camp, Jody was occasionally able to speak with them. Cy always checked in whenever he returned to the train. He took his duties to his sister seriously. She was his responsibility, just as the rest of the people were but even more so.
Being aware of his sister and her personality, Cy was determined to find out what was bothering her. She denied anything being amiss, but the young man could tell there was something.
Cy was at first concerned about the young Smith, Edge, because Jody would so often look his way. But the apprentice was occupied every time Cy saw him, and the look in Jody’s eyes was soft and warm, not angry or threatened. Then, in a sudden inspiration, he noticed the little man that took care of the Company’s oxen. These people from Sullivan Territory had some strange ways, and one was polygamy. Even though the man was traveling with a wife, he paid too much attention to Cy’s sister. There was little he could do for the moment because he was away so much. But he grilled Cable about the ways of their community and asked many questions about those on the train that Cable knew. Cy learned and got to know Edge through Cable. He also came to know Arc, the Ox Master. What he learned gave him pause.
§
Evening meetings to discuss the next day were common. This gathering, half way to the top of Parley’s Summit, was well attended. Even those busy with emergency repairs or priority duties broke away for the short time it would take to listen and learn. Jody felt guilty for disappearing from her duties, but she was determined to investigate how the animals would be used in the coming day’s test. The enormous effort would include everyone in the train, as well as a significant amount of danger to man and beast.
Listening attentively, Jody, Cy, Cable, and Edge sat on the ground before the elders seated on their three-legged camp stools.
The Wagon Master, Till, opened the meeting with a brief description of the path they had just seen to completion, and he gave compliments to those in his charge. The pull tomorrow would see them over the largest obstacle in their path. But there were several others, and he mentioned each of them. Following this summit, there would be trade in Coalville for a couple of days with good grass and plenty of water. Then there would be a long and steady pull uphill into the high desert of Wyoming. By the old map, western Wyoming would be dry but easy on the livestock with no large changes in elevation. They would be back in Indian country, and they would stay in danger as they approached the old state capitol of Cheyenne.
The plan, however, was to head south around Laramie on an old highway and into the town of Boulder, east of the Rockies. Arriving in late September, they would set up for any trade they could contribute and see what they could bring home after wintering over. The Renoites had been in contact with the Denverites for several years, and after all the discussion over what they would find in products and materials, everyone expected to accrue value in their effort. Two big hills, some dry miles, and a tribe of threatening locals would see them to their destination. Master Till was confident, and he conveyed that confidence to his people.
Finishing his short speech, Till invited the man in charge of the pull to speak. Master Arc swaggered to the front and waited for silence. He was anxious to make as many miles as he could and was determined to get the entire train across the summit in one day. He described the coming day and that they would connect three wagons with as many as thirty spans in one hitch. Because of the shortage of animals, he determined that many teams would make two trips. After the first wagons were at the top, they would move on with three span each to set up camp. The extra oxen would go back down and be asked to make the same trip twice with a heavy load.
The independents were not mentioned. They were on their own. The Renoites were prepared and were in good shape with their animals and generally lighter loads.
The heavy wagons of the Smith and the Vintner were partnered and should be fine as well. The three wagons would be pulled by twenty-eight span. As they would only make one trip, they would follow the Company rigs and rest as often as they wished. All of the independents would make only one pull.
Jody shook her head at the idea of Company teams making two pulls in one day with heavily laden wagons. She expected there would be trouble, and looking across at Edge she saw he was shaking his head, too. Running the numbers in each of their heads, they had come to independent but similar conclusions. By taking fewer wagons and teams to the top in the beginning, there would have been fresh oxen waiting to be supplemented by the returning teams instead of every span being tired on the second trip. Both Edge and Jody could not shake a sense of foreboding.
Chapter 11
Breaking out of the bushes after a trip to take care of nature’s need, Jody almost ran into Edge. He was gathering firewood, selecting from deadfall and piling it so high in his arms that he could not see the young woman in front of him. She ducked as he bore down on her, spun under Edge’s cargo, and came up with her hand on his shoulder.
Startled, the apprentice Smith almost dropped his load.
“Whoa there, Edge… would it be helpful if I took some of that?” Jody offered.
Recognizing Jody’s voice, Edge peeked around the stacked wood as he steadied himself on the uneven ground. He grinned sheepishly.
“Surely, or better still direct my steps. No need to burden you unnecessarily if you can but assist in keeping me upright.”
They both laughed, and Jody reached out and placed her hands on the back of Edge’s shoulders, steering him toward the camp and his wagon.
Conversation and laughter came easily, and without another stumble Edge dropped the gathered wood next to the cooking fire to be used in the morning. He was grateful for Jody’s guidance and felt the loss of her warmth as she withdrew her hands.
“Care to indulge in a cup, Jody?” Edge was hoping Jody had some time to talk. He had been looking for an opportunity, but a crowd always seemed to magically appear whenever they were in close proximity.
“Sure,” Jody smiled, delighted. “Is there still hot water?”
The fire-blackened pot was sitting on the grate just off the dying fire, and a slim waft of steam floated from the spout. Edge lifted it and tested the weight.
“Aye, indeed there be. Now, what would you? I have a vast selection…” and he showed her a single choice in the wooden box that held coffee. Jody giggled and made a show of choosing where there was no choice.
Occam and Muffy were nowhere to be seen, an unusual circumstance, and the young people made the most of their absence. They laughed and talked of inconsequential things, getting to know each other and appreciating what they learned.
For his part, Edge was testing Jody’s possibility as a lifemate. His interest in her right from their first meeting had been growing. He
was attracted to her in a way no woman in Roseburg had earned his attention. Surely, she was physically attractive with her slight form, rounded in all the right spots. She was a fully formed woman. But there was more. Once Edge got past the sparkling eyes and the flashing teeth… and the feel of Jody’s hands on his skin… he appreciated her quick wit and the way she was unafraid to speak her mind. On the downside, if he took her back to Roseburg, he was sure there would be trouble due to her outspoken personality. Still, he was confident that Jody could take care of herself, so he listened as she talked and became lost in her eyes.
Being of an age, that age being the one all young women interested in men pass through as they mature into womanhood, Jody had similar thoughts as Edge. She was more cautious, though. She was not even close to the point of considering Edge as a lifetime enterprise, but she certainly felt an attraction, and she could see it was mutual. Her first priority when considering a relationship was that he be kind and gentle. But it did not hurt that he towered over her, and those calloused hands of his gave Jody an electric thrill whenever they brushed against her. And those shoulders! Jody controlled herself and made penetrating inquiries of Edge, worming information out of him without his even being aware. He was a nice guy, which Jody had intellectually tried to be attracted to in the past but had failed by looking at bad boys with ill-advised favor.
An hour passed, and the young people became absorbed in each other. Conversation, even mundane subjects like calving or how to best prepare a pot of stew, gained flavor as they laughed and traded good-natured jibes. Jody gave as good as she got, and Edge even felt intimidated at times by her intellect.
Hell Follows After (Monster of the Apocalypse Saga) Page 10