Wagon Train Cinderella

by Kennedy, Shirley

  Rosie and Jack. Zephyr and Thor. They might be just dumb animals, but over the months they’d been her faithful friends who’d worked so hard and suffered so much. Now, as their reward, she must put them to death. With a bitter swell of pain beyond tears, she got Pa’s rifle from the wagon. “Ma, Lydia, take Tommy so he won’t see.”

  After they moved away, she loaded the rifle four times, and four times she placed the barrel to an ox’s head and pulled the trigger. It had to be done. How much more could she endure? She clenched her jaw to kill the sob in her throat, knowing she’d go on because she had to, but ’til the day she died, she’d never forget this terrible day and the terrible thing she had to do to those poor animals.

  Bone weary and nearly frozen, Callie gathered her family together. Lydia and Tommy were crying. Ma looked so exhausted she was beyond crying and could barely stand. Pa collapsed and lay helpless in the snow. Drawing on what seemed the last of her strength, Callie had to shout at her family above the whistling wind. “We’ll take what we can from the wagon. Be sure to get all the food.”

  “What about Pa?” her stepmother called.

  Pa. Oh, God. Callie knelt beside her exhausted stepfather who was making no effort to get up. “Do you think you can walk?”

  Pa gazed at her with dull, resigned eyes. “Leave me here.”

  “I’ll do no such thing.” What could she do? Her stepfather couldn’t walk by himself. “I’m not going to leave you here. I’ll get help.”

  She got up and slogged through the snow to where Magnus and his hired men were unloading their wagons. “I need help, Mr. Ferguson.”

  Stony-faced, Magnus listened while Callie told him Pa was in bad shape and could no longer walk. He would have to be carried down the mountain. When she finished, Magnus shook his head. “I’ll be needing both Hank and Seth to haul what we need down the mountain.” He turned away, calling over his shoulder, “Maybe Josiah can help, or Lilburn. Ask them.”

  Magnus’s unconcern left her watching after him with disgust. Hard to believe he hated her so much he wouldn’t help her family, but obviously he did. His one suggestion was useless. Josiah Morgan had a wife and children to look after. Lilburn Boggs the same. No one could help. If Pa was to be saved, she and her family must do it. She waded through the snow back to her family, gathered them around, and had to shout to be heard over the howling wind. “Ma and Tommy, you carry as much as you can. Lydia and I will do the same, but it won’t be much because were going to help Pa down the mountain.”

  “But I can’t,” Lydia cried in protest. “I’m freezing cold and starving. I don’t think I can walk another step, and you want me to carry Pa?”

  “Do you want to leave your father here? We can do this, Lydia. Pa can walk a little. We’ll support him between us. It’ll be easy.” Not for a minute did she believe what she was saying, but it was like her brain was numb from the cold just like the rest of her, and all she could focus on was that no matter what, she wouldn’t leave her stepfather lying in the snow to die.

  She kept arguing until Lydia finally agreed. They managed to get Pa to his feet. Huddled together, they and the other dejected members of Magnus’s wagon train started back down the mountain. She was right. Pa was able to walk some, supported by Lydia and her as they floundered through giant snowdrifts. At least they were headed downhill, so the going was easier, and the size of the snowdrifts lessened as they made their way down. She’d been right about the Morgan and Boggs families. They could barely manage carrying the smallest children in their arms, making the older children walk through snowdrifts where they almost sank from sight.

  Callie tried to ignore how miserably tired and cold she was. Now her only goal was to get her family and herself to that old trapper’s cabin in the meadow. When she first laid eyes on it, she thought how awful it must have been to live in such a rough, primitive place. Now she could hardly wait to get out of this unbearable cold and snow and find shelter inside its rough-hewn walls.

  They were almost at the cabin when Pa collapsed. Try as they might, they couldn’t get him to his feet again. “What shall we do?” Lydia cried.

  “We’ll carry him.” Callie expected Lydia to protest, but she didn’t. Amazing how her delicate stepsister had found enough grit to try to save her father, but obviously she had. Between the two of them, they carried Pa the last few hundred feet to the trapper’s cabin and collapsed inside. What a relief to get out of the storm! And what blessed warmth. Magnus and his men had arrived first and lit a fire in the hole in the ground that passed for a fireplace. They gathered around, savoring its warmth while they thawed their frostbitten fingers and toes.

  Divided into two crude rooms, the cabin offered the barest of shelters. The wind came whistling in through chinks in the rough log walls. Snowflakes found their way through a porous ceiling constructed of poles covered with pine boughs. Callie hardly noticed. Pa had barely moved since they had carried him in and laid him by the fire. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored. She knelt by his side and clutched his hand. “Pa, are you all right?”

  Ma knelt beside her and took a long look at her husband. “He’s not all right. He’s dying.”

  Callie felt such a heaviness in her chest, she could hardly speak. “He can’t be dying, Ma. Surely—”

  “He’s dying.” Ma’s voice turned bitter. “I warned him not to go on this crazy journey. This is all his fault.”

  Callie had only to look at Pa’s deadly white face and hear him struggle for every breath to know Ma was right. Even now his eyes seemed sunken into his head. He might never open them again, but when she squeezed his hand and quietly called, “Pa,” his eyelids fluttered open.

  For a brief moment, he showed no sign of recognition, but then he focused on her face. “Callie,” he murmured.

  “Yes, Pa?

  “I’m…dying.” He could hardly get the words out.

  “No! You’re going to get well.”

  He shook his head ever so slightly. “Take care of Ma.” He spoke in a voice so low she had to bend close to hear him. “I was wrong… You’re a good girl, Callie.” Pa shut his eyes. The effort to talk was too much.

  She kept hold of his hand. His breathing slowed and in a few minutes stopped altogether.

  For a long time, Callie knelt over her stepfather’s body. She couldn’t weep for the man who’d been so harsh and cruel to her all her life. Yet, in the end, when he said she’d been a good girl, a terrible hurt lifted from her heart. She’d done her best for him. If not for her, Ma and Lydia would have left him to die in the cold and snow, so at least she had the satisfaction of knowing she did everything she could to save him. In the process, she had discovered something about herself. She’d never be a mindless follower again. From now on, she’d lead. If this family was to survive, and she wasn’t sure they would, their deliverance was up to her.

  Chapter 17

  The brutal storm wouldn’t let up. For three days, ten adults and six children huddled in miserable discomfort around a barely adequate fire that left the corners of the cabin freezing cold. Their food supply dwindled to practically nothing. The children wailed constantly from cold and hunger. The cries of the Boggs’ baby slowly faded until they ceased altogether, replaced by the weeping of his grieving mother.

  They couldn’t bury Pa or the baby but instead had to lay them in the snow behind the cabin. The storm was so fierce no one could venture more than a few feet away until finally, on the fifth day, the snow stopped and the sun returned. Some of the men started out with their rifles, hoping to find some game to shoot. They returned empty-handed. All the game had apparently moved to lower elevations, leaving only helpless humans to cope with the ravages of a heavy winter snow.

  In desperation, Magnus sent Hank and Seth back to the site where they’d abandoned the wagons to salvage what they could. They didn’t find much but managed to uncover one of the oxen. The rest were buried too deep. Everyone rejoiced when the men returned with
all the meat they could carry, plus pieces of ox hide that would help keep them warm. The meat didn’t last long, partly, Callie suspected, because Magnus hid some of it for himself and his men.

  The break in the weather didn’t last. One storm after another kept the wretched band of survivors huddled in the cabin with no thought of even trying to cross the peaks again. By now, an air of desperation and despair hung over them. Day after day, they huddled around the small, inadequate fire, miserably cold, their food nearly gone. Callie feared for her family. Ma had hardly spoken since Pa died. She seemed not to care if she lived. Lydia stayed strong, but her thin body and pale, drawn face held little resemblance to the pretty, rosy-cheeked girl who’d started the trek. Callie worried the most about Tommy. Like the other children, he was among the weakest and most vulnerable. He didn’t talk now. He just lay in his blankets, staring up with eyes that looked huge in his small, emaciated face.

  On the eighth day, the snowfall let up long enough for the stronger ones to leave the cabin and slog through deep snowdrifts in a desperate search for food. Acorns and pine nuts were all Callie could find. Maybe if she ground them up, they wouldn’t be so bad. Back at the cabin, she did just that and put a small taste of the mixture in her mouth. Awk! Awful. She couldn’t get it down, had to spit it out. Better to starve to death. The next day they had nothing to eat. All they could do was chew on strips of bark to try and stop the hunger pangs. Lydia began to weep. “I don’t think I can go on much longer.”

  Callie couldn’t comfort her. What encouragement could she give? The cold, gnawing hunger would soon mean the end of all of them, and there was nothing she could do.

  Throughout the ordeal, Magnus and his men were of little help and pretty much kept to themselves. Callie couldn’t prove it but suspected a secret cache of food, including the oxen meat, prevented them from looking as gaunt as the rest. Others suspected it too, and feelings ran high against him.

  On the tenth day, a break in the weather brought new hope. Magnus declared he and his men would attempt to cross over the mountain. To cope with the deep snow, they’d make snowshoes. If the weather held, they were sure to get across.

  “What about us?” Josiah Morgan sat huddled with his family.

  “We’ll send help soon as we can.”

  “Like hell you will.” Josiah struggled to his feet. “Our wives and children are starving. They’re not going to last much longer. I’m coming with you, Magnus, just to make sure you send help back right away.” His voice was filled with contempt.

  Lilburn Boggs stood up. “Josiah is right. I’m coming, too.”

  Magnus shrugged. “You’ll need snowshoes. Otherwise, you’ll slow us down, and I won’t have that.”

  Callie made a quick decision and got to her feet. “I’m coming with you.”

  Magnus regarded her with scorn. “This is a man’s job. You’ll only hold us up.”

  “You let me worry about that.”

  “Suit yourself, but if you lag behind, don’t expect us to wait for you.”

  “I’ll be fine, Colonel Ferguson.”

  She bent to speak to her family, huddled on the crude dirt floor, covered with blankets. The blank expression on Ma’s face these past few days hadn’t changed. Callie doubted she even knew or cared what was going on.

  Lydia gazed at her, dull despair in her eyes. She had been pretty once. Now, what a heart-wrenching sight she was with her sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. With an effort, she asked, “How could you even think of going out in all that snow? Maybe the sun’s out now, but it won’t last. You’d better stay here. At least we can all die together.”

  Callie firmly shook her head. “Do you think I’d trust Magnus Ferguson for one moment? I’m going to get us some help. I won’t sit here and watch my family starve.”

  Lydia gave no further arguments. Instead, she reached out and weakly clasped Callie’s hand. “I pray to God you make it, dear sister. Please, please hurry.”

  * * * *

  Along with the men, Callie fashioned herself a pair of crude snowshoes out of strips of ox hide and split oxbows found in the cabin. Bundled in blankets and all the warm clothes they had, they set out on a cloudless day, bright sunshine causing sparkles on the snow. Their food supply consisted of a glue-like paste boiled from ox hides, powdered bones, twigs, and barks from trees. The five men trudged uphill in a single line. Callie brought up the rear. No doubt Magnus thought she’d soon falter and fall behind, but during the day, she kept up just fine. Not easy, considering her gnawing pangs of hunger. Everyone was hungry. Only sheer desperation kept them climbing.

  By nightfall, they reached the abandoned wagons and spent the night huddled in the only one not completely buried in the snow. Callie could hardly choke down the paste made from ox hides, but she forced herself. She must eat or she’d die.

  They had all begun to look like scarecrows, but surprisingly, it was Magnus, with his great wide shoulders and muscular build, who seemed to age overnight. His once-handsome face had thinned to a near skeleton-like appearance. He walked with an old man’s shuffle, all stooped over. His eyes held a wild look, as if he might lose his sanity at any moment. Wrapped in his blankets, he kept staring at her. “I see you’ve kept up thus far.”

  She raised her chin in defiance. “As well as you, Magnus. Just like I intend to do tomorrow.”

  Lilburn Boggs spoke up. “Tomorrow! If all goes like it should, we’ll reach the top and be well on our way down the other side.”

  Dear God, she hoped so. Her strength was waning. By pushing herself to the limit, she could hang on maybe one more day. Tomorrow they must cross the summit. If they didn’t… She pulled her blankets closer around her. She couldn’t think about it. Instead, she concentrated on Luke, how much she loved him, how he must be looking down from heaven, keeping her and her family safe. He wouldn’t let them come to harm. Everything was going to be all right.

  After a night of fitful sleep, Callie awoke to a howling wind. Her worst fear was realized when she peered outside. Another storm. Snow falling heavily again.

  No sense going back now. What would be the use?

  The despairing band of travelers had no choice but to keep going. Moving at a snail’s pace, they started out, fighting their way up the steep incline through ten-foot snowdrifts. Everyone had frozen feet. Magnus and Seth were beginning to suffer from snow blindness. Josiah Morgan started hallucinating, claiming he saw a sunny, flower-filled meadow ahead. The storm raged on. By early afternoon they couldn’t continue. Without a fire, they were done for, but with the snow drifting up to fifteen feet, they couldn’t find any wood. The best they could do was spread blankets on the snow, tent them over with other blankets and crowd together underneath. By now, they could offer no words of encouragement to one another. A sense of impending doom hung over them. In their desperation, Magnus’s own men turned against him. “You fool,” cried Seth. “You said we’d make better time on this stinking shortcut. Look where it got us.”

  “We should never have listened to you,” Hank bitterly echoed.

  Callie kept quiet but heartily agreed. Time and again, she’d had to quell her anger over Luke’s death and her suspicion Magnus was responsible. She’d never forget the shabby way he’d treated her. Now this latest, his arrogant insistence they take this shortcut was about to be the death of them. No use saying so. Magnus was failing. With each passing hour, his condition seemed to deteriorate. Suffering from frozen feet and severe snow blindness, he sat shivering in his blankets. If he heard his men berating him, he gave no sign, but instead gazed into space, as if he hardly knew where he was. As the hours passed, he began to babble words that made no sense. “Swim the cattle… It’s time for dinner… I see California!” His men yelled at him to shut up, but he didn’t seem to hear.

  In the middle of the night, Magnus got to his feet. “Got to yoke the oxen!” Before anyone could stop him, he stumbled from the makeshift tent and disappeared into the raging storm
.

  “He’s a goner.” Seth made no effort to go after him.

  Neither did Hank. “Guess we’ll find what’s left of him in the morning.”

  Callie remained silent as did Josiah and Lilburn. They hadn’t the strength to care.

  The storm ceased at about noon the next day. The lack of food and water for over twenty-four hours had taken its toll. Josiah was too weak to travel. Lilburn refused to go on, moaning, “Just leave me here to die.”

  Both Hank and Seth were strong young men but frostbitten, exhausted, and starving. They, too, had lost the will to go on. Callie felt the same. How easy it would be to simply lie down in the snow and drift into the sleep that would last forever.

  No, no, no. My family is waiting. I will not give up.

  She threw aside her blankets and got to her feet. Drawing upon the last of her strength, she addressed Hank and Seth, who sat huddled before her, fearful and drained of their willpower. “God hasn’t brought us this far to let us perish now.” She pointed toward the top of the peak. “It’s not that far. We can make it. I know we can.”

  Perhaps the shame of being lectured by a woman made the two hired hands gather their strength. The three put on their snowshoes and started climbing again. At least the snow had stopped and the skies cleared so they could see to the top of the peak. Just having it in sight gave Callie the strength to go on. It wouldn’t be much longer. Then they could start downhill to warmth, food, and help for her family. She kept having to battle faintness from hunger and a fatigue so great she could hardly put one foot ahead of the other, but it didn’t matter. Yes, she was going to make it!

  They hadn’t gone far when they came across Magnus Ferguson’s body half buried in the snow. They paused for only a moment to take a look.

  Only Seth spoke. “God have mercy on him.” His was the only prayer said over the former leader of the wagon train. Callie couldn’t have cared less, and neither could Hank and Seth.