Asa looked conflicted. “Well, I barely know them, but they seem like good folks. And as you said, another blacksmith would probably be handy.”
He nodded. “There will be a meeting today at four o’clock. Up on the knoll by the creek. If you don’t know the time, just listen for the bell clanging. I expect all the travelers to attend.” He tipped his faded brown hat and went on his way.
“Well, I reckon that answers your questions,” Asa said to Matthew.
“I like the captain,” Jamie declared.
“He does instill confidence.” Clara picked up his empty plate.
“Two days from today,” Elizabeth said happily. “And we’ll be on our way.”
Suddenly there seemed much to do, and everyone went about doing it. By three thirty, according to Elizabeth’s watch, they all headed up to the knoll.
“I tied Flax to your wagon,” Jamie told Matthew as they walked. “To be the watchdog.”
“Good thinking,” Matthew told him.
Although they arrived early, several dozen others were already congregated on the knoll. A short man banged on an iron triangle to make a loud clanging sound, and more families joined them. Most of the families looked to have children the ages of Jamie and Ruth…and older. To Elizabeth’s surprise, there were a few couples who appeared much older than her parents. Some families looked well-off, and others seemed a bit down on their luck. It was quite an assortment.
Eventually the captain arrived, placing himself on the top of the knoll so that everyone could see him. By now Elizabeth estimated there were around three hundred people gathered. Quite a crowd, but they quieted down when they saw the captain was ready to speak. First he welcomed them. Then he went over the rules of the wagon train, which were not much different from the laws of the land, except that instead of a court of law, the wagon council would be the enforcer, and the punishment would be executed promptly. Most of the rules, especially in regard to carrying adequate supplies and firearms and care of draft animals, were familiar and simply common sense. But Elizabeth was glad that the crowd listened attentively.
“We will average fifteen miles a day except for Sundays, when we only travel for half a day. We water our animals when we stop to eat. Every man eighteen or older will take turns at guard duty. If a guard falls asleep, he will walk behind the wagons for a day.” He paused. “Now I have mentioned the wagon council to you. I run my train like I run a regiment. I am the captain, but because we have more than sixty wagons on this train, with a total of two hundred eighty-seven people, I have divided the train into units. Each unit has about twelve wagons, and I will appoint one councilman to oversee each unit. My council is as follows.”
He now proceeded to read the names of five men, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, her father’s name was among them. “These five council members will each have a list of about twelve wagons. These will be your traveling units for the duration of the trip. Councilmen can be changed only by my approval and a democratic vote of the unit. The units are numbered and will proceed in numerical order, which will rotate every Sunday.”
The captain held up some pages. “Will all the councilmen please come forward?” After the men joined him on top of the knoll, the captain asked if any of them wished to decline this responsibility. After none refused, the captain made them raise their right hands and proceeded to swear them in. Elizabeth could see the pride and pleasure in her father’s face as he vowed to do his duty as a councilman. Now the captain handed the newly appointed councilmen lists of names, and one by one they read them. Elizabeth listened closely as her father read. None of the names sounded familiar except for the Flanders.
“It will be up to the heads of the families to locate their councilman and introduce themselves,” the captain told them. “Find your councilman’s campsite before the day is over, and he will inform you as to where your unit will be gathering. Then I want all the units assembled in camp together before sundown tomorrow. That’ll give you a chance to get acquainted.” Then he thanked everyone for their patience, asked a blessing on their upcoming journey, and asked for the councilmen to remain afterward to meet with him for further instructions.
“Can you believe it?” Elizabeth said to her mother as they walked back to camp. “Father is a councilman.”
“Asa will be a good councilman.” Clara smiled. “He is a natural leader.”
“Did you hear that the Flanders are in our group?” Matthew said. “That means we’ll have a blacksmith close by.”
“And Tillie,” Ruth said happily.
“I’m gonna gather up some kindling.” Brady pointed to an area where someone had been chopping wood but had left smaller pieces scattered all about. “I saw it there this morning,” he said. “If’n no one wants it, we can put it to use.”
“Good idea,” Matthew told him. “I’ll bring back something to carry it with.”
“I like that we’re in units of twelve wagons,” Clara said as they neared their camp. “It will make it easier to get acquainted.”
“If each wagon had four people, that would be forty-eight total,” Jamie said.
Elizabeth patted his back. “Good multiplication.”
“If there were six in each family, it would be seventy-two,” he said.
“How does he do that so fast?” Ruth asked.
“Because he’s older.” Elizabeth reached for Ruth’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
“And I made a decision,” Jamie told her. “About my name.”
“About your name?” Elizabeth turned to look at him.
“I’m too old to be called Jamie,” he said. “That sounds like a baby.”
“Oh…” She just nodded.
“And James is a good name, but it sounds like Pa’s name to me.”
“It was your father’s name.”
“I want to be called JT,” he proclaimed.
“For James Theodore,” Ruth said. “JT. I like it.”
“JT,” Elizabeth said slowly. “It sounds very grown-up.”
“It’s a good name,” Matthew said. “I’m pleased to call you JT.”
“Is that all right with you?” Jamie asked his mother.
She smiled. “Will you be upset if I sometimes forget and call you Jamie?”
He seemed to consider this. “Nah, mothers are allowed to make mistakes like that.”
Clara laughed as they came to their wagons. “How about grandmothers?”
“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll still come if you call me Jamie.”
“Come on, JT,” Matthew called. “Let’s grab some buckets and go give Brady a hand.”
The women were just starting in on supper when Asa returned. He was all smiles. “I’m honored to be picked a councilman,” he told them as he sat down by the table. “But it’s a fair amount of work too.”
“Do you want to decline?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. Not at all. I just don’t want to let anyone down.” He glanced around their campground. “Where are the fellas?”
Elizabeth explained about Brady and the kindling.
Asa frowned. “I would have thought I’d seen them on my way.”
“I’m sure they’ll be along—”
Just then they heard Jamie yell, “Grandpa! Come quick! Uncle Matthew needs you!”
Asa got up and took off.
“Ruth, you stay with Grandma,” Elizabeth called as she ran after them. Passing her father, she was nearly catching Jamie when she saw a group gathered up ahead.
“This n----r stole my wood!” a red-faced man was yelling.
“Like I just told you, the wood is for everyone,” Matthew yelled back. “It was left behind. We were just picking it up.”
“I told my boy to come back and get that.”
“It’s been lying there all day,” Matthew told him.
Elizabeth pushed her way through the onlookers, seeing that Brady was being held with his arms pinned behind his back by a young pimply-faced man. “What’s going on here?” she
demanded.
“You stay outta this,” the red-faced man yelled at her. “Nonna your business.”
Elizabeth walked over to Brady, looking the young man directly in the eyes. “You release him right now!”
“Pa?” the kid said.
“You hold tight!”
“You heard the woman,” Asa huffed. “Let that man go.”
“Pa?” the kid said again.
“Let him go,” Asa said more firmly.
“Hey, that’s one of the councilmen,” someone said.
“Let him go! Now!” Elizabeth yelled right into the kid’s face. The kid let him go, stepping back like he was worried Elizabeth was going to hit him.
“Is he your slave?” The red-faced man pointed a finger at her.
“Brady is not a slave,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. “He is a free man. And he’s traveling to the Oregon Territory with my family and me.”
“Where’s his papers?” the red-faced man demanded.
“His papers are in a safe place,” Asa told him in a calm but firm tone.
“I’ll bet he’s a runaway,” the man said. “I’ll bet we can turn him in for a reward.”
Now Matthew stepped closer, glaring at him. “Brady is a free man. And you and your boy better keep your hands off of him. You hear?”
“He was stealing my wood!”
“That wood was there for the taking and you know it. You and your lazy boy left a mess behind, and it was up for grabs. The truth of the matter is that you were just spoiling for a fight, weren’t you?” Matthew shook a fist in his face. “But if you want a fight, don’t go picking on an old man.”
Elizabeth was ready to intervene but knew that would only aggravate her brother, and he seemed aggravated enough. She glanced at Asa, but he tossed her a warning look and just watched as the two men glared at each other.
“All right,” Asa finally said with authority. “I think you folks have seen all there is to see, and I’m sure you have better things to do. Brady here is a free man, and we have papers to prove it.” He pointed at the still angry man. “Now I don’t want to have to report you to the captain before we’ve even hit the trail, but I know he don’t take kindly to this kind of behavior.”
The man said a foul word, and now Asa stepped up and, backed by Matthew, grabbed the man by the arm. “Seems to me you weren’t listening to the rules today.” He looked at the onlookers. “Anyone else listen to the rules? You all recall any rules prohibiting the use of coarse language or cussing in this community?”
“It’s a finable offense,” a woman called out.
“That’s right.” Asa nodded then turned back to the man. “Who’s your councilman?”
“I dunno,” the man mumbled.
Asa tilted his head to one side. “Well now, that is troubling. First you’re caught picking a fight. Next you’re caught swearing. Now you can’t recall who your councilman is? I think you could just about get yourself thrown off this train before you’re even started.”
“Our councilman is Harris,” the kid said quickly. “But, please, don’t kick us off the train. We sold everything we own to come. My ma and the rest of us need to get to Oregon Territory. Please, sir. I’m sorry. I just did what my pa said to do.”
Asa looked kindly upon him. “Well, you seem like a good boy. How old are you, son?”
“I’m eighteen.”
“You think you’re old enough to keep your pa in line?”
The boy looked perplexed.
“Eighteen’s old enough to do guard duty,” Asa told him. “How about you practice by doing some guard duty on your pa?”
The man growled, and the boy made an uneasy shrug. “I reckon I can try.”
“I expect you to help keep him in line until he figures out the rules for himself.”
The young man nodded.
“In the meantime, I will let Harris know about the infraction. What’s your pa’s name?”
The boy told him their names and, with his father in tow, quietly left. And now the crowd slowly dispersed as well.
“Come on,” Elizabeth said to Brady. “Let’s go back to camp.”
“No,” Matthew sharply told her. “Brady and I still want to get that wood. No sense letting it go to waste.”
“That’s right.” Asa nodded to Brady. “You fellas get that wood, and I’ll go speak to Harris about this matter.”
As much as Elizabeth wanted to protect Brady and take him back to camp with her, she understood. This was a matter of male pride, and she had interfered. She turned to her son, but remembering he too was part of the “men’s club,” she refrained from grabbing his hand and dragging him back to camp with her. Instead, she considered her words. “I suppose you’ll want to help the men with that wood, JT.”
He gave her a lopsided grin, and she could tell he was pleased that she’d remembered to call him JT. “Don’t be late for supper,” she called as she left.
Before long she was back at their campsite, dramatically retelling the whole story for the sake of her mother and Ruth. “Father handled it so perfectly,” she said finally. “I was very proud of him.”
“Poor Brady.” Clara dropped a peeled potato into the water. “I figured we’d run into some folks like that. I’m glad the men were around to defend him.”
“I just wish I hadn’t jumped in like I did,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I was so mad.”
“I probably would have done the same thing,” Clara said.
“Me too,” Ruth declared. “Nobody should be mean to our Brady just because he’s colored.”
“Well, your grandpa set them straight,” Elizabeth said. “But I don’t see how I can be expected to hold my tongue if something like that happens again. Woman or not, I will not sit idly by when there’s injustice going on.”
“It’s not easy being a woman in a man’s world,” Clara said.
“This is our world too,” Elizabeth reminded her.
“But you still have to respect their manly pride,” her mother counseled.
Elizabeth sighed as she tied on her apron. “So I’m expected to be able to drive a team and fix a broken axle and protect and provide for my family just like a man, but at the same time I still have to play the little woman?”
Clara chuckled as she dropped another potato in the water. “I reckon it’s a fine line, Lizzie. A fine line that only a strong, wise woman can walk. You’ll figure it out.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was Ruth’s idea to make sugar cookies. “We can give one to every person in our unit,” she explained to Elizabeth and Clara. “When they come to see Grandpa after dinner tonight, we’ll surprise them with cookies.” But she was a little concerned when Grandpa informed her that 37 people were in their unit.
“That’s a lot of cookies.” She looked at the bowl of dough she was stirring. “The recipe said this makes three dozen. How many is that, Grandma?”
Clara paused from slicing carrots. “That’s a JT question.”
“I’ll help you.” Elizabeth poured a handful of beans on the table. “You know that a dozen is twelve. Now just make three piles of twelve and count them.”
Ruth did as told. “Thirty-six!”
“So it’s almost enough dough?”
Ruth scooted one more bean over. “There. Thirty-seven.”
“So you just make a few of the cookies a tiny bit smaller,” Clara told her. “And you should have enough dough.”
“The real trick will be getting them to bake right in our funny little oven,” Elizabeth said. “First let’s see if I can bake some cornbread without scorching it.”
Thanks to some good coals and Ruth’s diligent watching, the cookies turned out pretty good. “Maybe we’ll put you in charge of the baking from now on,” Elizabeth teased as she helped Ruth remove the hot baking sheets from the oven.
“Hello, Dawsons and Martins,” called a woman’s voice.
“Welcome, Flanders!” Asa got up to greet them, shaking Bert’s hand
.
“I made cookies,” Ruth called out with excitement. “One for each.”
Tillie came over to see. “Your ma lets you cook on the fire?”
Ruth nodded with a flushed face.
“With supervision,” Elizabeth clarified.
“We don’t let Tillie near the fire,” Mahala, the oldest girl, told Elizabeth. “Too dangerous.”
“Ruth really made those?” Hannah asked.
“She did,” Clara told them. “Ruth helps us with all the cooking.”
Tillie’s lower lip stuck out. “Ruth is lucky.”
Hannah laughed. “You think doing kitchen chores is lucky?”
“We’ll start you on peeling potatoes if you promise not to cut yourself,” Mahala told her.
Ruth counted out seven cookies on a plate and took them to Bert. “Here you go, Mr. Flanders,” she said proudly. “One for each member of your family.”
He thanked her, sharing the cookies with his brood. Then he chatted with Asa for a while, both of them smoking their pipes congenially.
“I’m glad you were able to join our party,” Elizabeth told Flo. “Have you decided where you’re going to settle yet?”
Flo just laughed. “I don’t know for sure. Maybe we’ll go all the way to the Pacific Ocean with you folks.”
“If we don’t run out of supplies first,” Mahala said in a slightly bitter tone.
“Oh, Mahala.” Flo frowned. “Always expecting the worst. Ever since she turned eighteen she’s been acting like an old woman. I swear it won’t be long till her hair turns gray.”
“That’s ’cause Mahala keeps worrying that she’ll be an old maid,” Hannah teased.
“A pretty girl like her?” Elizabeth smiled at Mahala. “I don’t think so.”
“She’s too picky,” Hannah said. Then she flitted over to where Matthew and JT were making music.
“From what I hear, there are more than enough men to go around in the West,” Flo said quietly to Elizabeth. “I s’pect she’ll find herself a man out there.”
“There seem to be plenty of young fellows on this wagon train too.” Elizabeth tried not to think about her encounter with the young man earlier.
“I think Mahala’s already got her eye on someone,” Flo confided to Elizabeth, nodding over to where Mahala was wandering toward the music makers. “She mentioned to me how your brother was both good-looking and smart.”
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