by Al Lacy
Solomon and Hannah exchanged glances.
Before leaving home, the Coopers had discussed with the children the sleeping arrangements. Everyone had bedrolls, so they would rotate who slept in the wagon and who slept underneath the wagon. On the first night out, Solomon decided they would all sleep under the wagon.
While Mary Beth and her little sister were inside the wagon getting into their nightgowns, B. J. was feeding Biggie and Chris fed oats to Buster and Nipper.
When the boys had gotten into their nightshirts, Solomon tossed more wood on the fire and called the family together for Scripture reading and prayer. Biggie snuggled between Mary Beth and Chris, and Ulysses lay safely in Patty Ruth’s arms.
Solomon was heating coffee over the fire and was about to say something to Hannah when a young couple walked up. They were accompanied by a girl of about eighteen or nineteen, who was carrying a baby.
“Good evening,” the young man said. “My name is Lloyd Marlin. This is my wife, Suzanne, and Suzanne’s sister, Deborah Smith. Aunt Deborah has our little son, James, here. He’s ten months old.”
The Coopers introduced themselves, explaining that they were from Independence. Then Solomon asked, “Where are you folks from?”
“Virginia,” Lloyd said. “Near Roanoke. We’re going all the way to Sacramento.”
“We’re only going as far as Fort Bridger,” Solomon said.”
Hannah smiled at the baby. “Would you mind if I hold him, Deborah?”
“Of course not,” she said, handing James to her.
Hannah held the baby close and kissed his fat little cheek. “We don’t have any babies in our family any more. Our youngest is five.”
“We saw the children with you a little while ago,” Suzanne said.
“So many names being reeled off last night,” Lloyd said. “Too hard to remember them all.”
“That’s for sure,” Solomon said with a chuckle. “You folks like some coffee?” He went to the wagon and brought out some extra tin cups. Hannah declined a cup, saying she was having too much fun getting to know little James.
“Maybe you should have another baby, Mrs. Cooper,” Suzanne said. “You sure have a way with them. That’s the first time James has smiled all day.”
Hannah glanced at her husband.
“I’d love to have another baby in the family,” Solomon said, “but I guess you have to stop sometime. Won’t be too many more years till Chris gets married. Guess we’ll have to wait for babies till then.”
Hannah smiled, but didn’t comment.
“The… ah… reason we’re here, Mr. Cooper,” Lloyd said, “is that when we passed by a little while ago, we noticed you were reading the Bible to your family. We decided you must be Christians.”
“You’ve got that right—the born-again, blood-washed kind,” Solomon said.
“Well, amen. Us, too.”
There was an immediate bond between the families as they talked about how wonderful it was to know the Lord. Then Suzanne explained that Deborah was going with them to California because their parents had died within a month of each other about two years ago. Deborah had moved in with her sister and brother-in-law, and since she had no other family, she was going to make her new life in California, too. Lloyd was going to homestead land in the valley just east of Sacramento.
Solomon told them of their general store in Independence and explained that they would open up a new one in Fort Bridger. After chatting for a few more minutes, Hannah reluctantly gave the baby back to his aunt, and they said goodnight.
It was a good ending to the first day out, and when Solomon and Hannah finally got into their bedrolls, they fell asleep peacefully.
At sunrise the next morning, Ezra Comstock gathered the people around and explained that even though the Blue was little more than four feet deep where they would cross, they would do it at an upstream slant to lessen the current against the wagons.
He noted the Colt .45 revolver on Solomon Cooper’s hip and said, “Now, folks… just three more miles after we cross the river, we’ll be in Kansas. Beyond law and order. Its up to us to protect ourselves. We’re also movin’ into Indian territory. It’s the Comanches we have to worry about. The other three tribes who inhabit this area are the Kaw, the Potawatomi, and the Pawnee. For the most part, they’re friendly toward whites. The few times I have known them to attack whites is when the whites have done something to rile them.
“When we get into Nebraska Territory, the dangerous ones are the Sioux, the Crow, and the Blackfoot. There’s no way to tell which tribe they are from a distance, so we’ll just have to keep a sharp eye for any Indians. If they gallop toward us, whooping and barking like dogs, it’s an attack. Anyone who spots Indians, no matter what they’re doin’, let me know immediately. I’ll decide what we should do. But keep your weapons within reach at all times.”
With that, Ezra said, “All right! Let’s get ready to move out in five minutes!”
True to his word, Comstock was in the saddle five minutes later, shouting, “Wagons ho-o-o!”
There was a chorus of “Yee-haws” and the sound of cracking whips as the wheels began rolling once more.
They crossed the Blue River without incident and reached the Kansas border two hours later.
The travelers soon realized the difference between Missouri and Kansas. Now they were on the wild prairie, heading almost due north toward the Kaw River, where they would cross near a small settlement known as Topeka.
Ezra Comstock and his nephew were the only ones who had been this far west before. The others were amazed at the vista before them. They had not imagined there could be so much space. The sky seemed much bigger here, like a huge bright-blue lid set down over the earth.
Grass waved in seemingly endless fields in the stiff prairie wind, reminding those travelers who had been on the Atlantic coast of great ocean waves. Meadowlarks flitted about, landing on grassy mounds, while broad-winged hawks rode the airwaves high above.
The fields were dotted with spring flowers, pink, purple, blue, and yellow, that rippled in the wind as far as the eye could see.
When the dust began to rise in clouds, Ezra trotted along the length of the train, instructing everyone to stagger their wagons so that none followed directly behind another.
As point man, Ezra rode ahead and scanned the prairie, looking for any sign of Indians. He knew the hostiles would not be seen unless they wanted to be seen, but any attack would be quite visible as they came thundering against the train. All was quiet in every direction.
Solomon walked longer than he had the day before, with B. J. at his side. After four hours, he and B. J. returned to the wagon, and Solomon relieved Hannah at the reins.
In the late afternoon he returned to the ground with Mary Beth at his side. Mary Beth and her father liked to talk about the Bible together. Her questions pleased him and showed him that she was reading her Bible and thinking about what she was reading.
That night, as they mingled with the other travelers, Solomon and Hannah met William and Martha Perryman and their six children, who were from Joplin, Missouri. The Perrymans introduced them to Stuart and Tracie Armstrong, newlyweds from Toledo, Ohio.
As the Coopers moved on, they encountered another pair of newlyweds, Lafe and Vanessa Tolliver, from Racine, Wisconsin. Hannah’s eyes strayed to the next wagon, where she saw one of the Cuzaks leaning against a rear wheel, eyeing Vanessa. The look in his eyes had nothing to do with admiration of beauty.
As Hannah and Solomon moved on to meet more of their fellow travelers, Hannah held fast to Solomon’s arm. When they were out of earshot from anyone, she tugged him to a halt.
“Sol…did you notice one of the Cuzak brothers at the wagon next to Tollivers’?”
“I saw a man leaning against the rear wheel…”
“He was ogling Vanessa, Sol, and I didn’t like the look in his eyes.”
Solomon casually turned and looked back. The Cuzak brother was still there, but now h
e was checking the ties that held the canvas bonnet. “I think that’s the one they call Dwight.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about the Cuzaks, Sol.”
“Me, too. They’re a mean-looking bunch. That is, except for Tony.”
“Should we say something to Ezra?”
“Don’t think we need to, darlin’. Ol’ Ezra is a sharp cookie. He’s got his eye on them.”
At the Cooper wagon, two girls Mary Beth’s age had stopped to introduce themselves—Corrie Weathers and Becky Croft. The Weathers and the Crofts were from the same town in Delaware.
Patty Ruth held Ulysses and listened to how the big girls talked together.
Corrie pointed toward the sky and said, “I’ve never seen so many twinkling stars. You can’t see them like this in Delaware.”
Patty Ruth moved Ulysses from one arm to the other and said, “My sister knows a whole lot about the stars, don’t you, Mary Beth?”
“I know a little, Patty Ruth, but not a whole lot.”
“Well, show Corrie and Becky what you were showin’ me an’ Chris last night.”
Patty Ruth looked on proudly as her sister pointed heavenward and said, “All right, follow my finger. See that brilliant star right… there?”
It took Corrie and Becky a few seconds to focus on it. When they saw it, Mary Beth said, “That’s Sirius, the brightest star of all. It’s in the constellation Canis Major, and is known as the Dog Star. My teacher at Independence, Miss Powers, taught me about Sirius and Canis Major.”
“Tell ’em some more, Mary Beth.”
Solomon and Hannah were just walking up as Mary Beth guided the girls back to Sirius and said, “See those three bright stars real close together to the right of Sirius? That’s Orion, the Hunter.”
“My sister is the smartest girl in all the world,” Patty Ruth said.
Mary Beth blushed. “Patty Ruth, that’s sweet of you, honey, but I’m not the smartest girl in the world.”
“You are, too. Isn’t she, Mama? Isn’t she, Papa?”
Mary Beth hadn’t seen her parents’ approach, and she turned to them in surprise.
“She’s pretty smart, all right,” Solomon said.
Mary Beth introduced her parents to her new friends, then Becky looked down at the stuffed bear in Patty Ruth’s arms and said, “That’s some bear, Patty Ruth. What’s it’s name?”
“He’s not an it,” Patty Ruth said. “He’s a he. His name’s Ulysses Cooper.” At the same time, she gripped Ulysses hard, turning her body to put the bear out of Becky’s reach.
“Patty Ruth, maybe Becky would like to hold Ulysses for a minute,” Hannah said.
“Oh, yes! That would be nice!” Becky said.
“Go ahead, honey,” Solomon said. “Let Becky see Ulysses.”
Though Patty Ruth didn’t want to obey, she handed the bear to the older girl.
“Oh, isn’t he cute?” Becky giggled and turned to show the bear to Corrie.
“He sure is,” Corrie agreed, stroking Ulysses’ head. “I love his smile… and those big black eyes!”
When Patty Ruth had the bear back in her arms, she pressed him tightly to her chest.
As the girls walked away, telling Mary Beth they would see her tomorrow, Hannah turned to her youngest daughter. “Patty Ruth, you were on the verge of being selfish again, weren’t you?”
“Huh?”
“I saw the look in your eyes. Now, honey, Mama’s trying to teach you that you must not be selfish. Do you understand?”
Patty Ruth’s features reddened and her chin jutted as she said, “Ulysses is my bear! Nobody else has any business holdin’ ’im!”
Solomon took hold of Patty Ruth’s arm and said, “You don’t talk to your mother that way, young lady!”
The little redhead started to cry as her father ushered her outside the circle for a spanking. Hannah and Mary Beth could hear her trying to talk her father out of it, but to no avail.
On this night, Hannah and the girls would sleep inside the wagon while Solomon and the boys slept outside. As the cool night breeze brushed against the canvas walls, mother and daughters slipped into their strange new beds. It was somewhat crowded among the trunks and barrels and a big washtub. But even though Mary Beth’s elbow poked into her little sister’s ribs and everyone’s breathing was all mixed up together, Patty Ruth and Ulysses felt snug and safe.
Hannah lay awake for a long time, listening to her daughters’ breathing and the night sounds outside. She missed her comfortable feather bed and Solomon’s closeness. When doubt started to descend once more, she fixed her mind on Jesus. Almost instantly she felt the answer to her prayer, and sleep came easily.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was late morning the next day when the Comstock wagon train arrived at a single post that marked the fork of the Santa Fe and Oregon Trails.
As the wagons rolled to the north, the Coopers noticed that Chris was spending a good deal of time riding alongside the lead wagon. During supper that night, they learned from Chris that he and Micah Comstock had a lot in common. Both were Christians, they both loved horses, and they were interested in soldiers and things military.
B. J. spoke up to tell everyone he had struck up a friendship with Billy Perryman, who was his age. Billy wanted to know if B. J. could ride in his wagon tomorrow, and play alongside it while the train was moving.
Solomon told him he would talk with Mr. Perryman about it.
On Saturday, Chris tied Buster behind the lead wagon and spent most of the day riding on the seat next to Micah. B. J. and Billy Perryman walked alongside the Perryman wagon and played “cowboys and Indians.”
Patty Ruth sat on the wagon seat beside her mother and received another loving lecture on selfishness, while Mary Beth and Biggie walked with Solomon. Father and daughter talked about the future. Mary Beth still held to her desire to become a teacher and spoke of how she missed Miss Powers. She hoped she would like her teacher at Fort Bridger.
The fifth day out was a Sunday. The wagon train was now just thirteen miles south of the Kaw River.
Before pulling out that morning, Ezra Comstock called for everyone to gather for a brief church service. Ezra led them in a few well-known hymns, then beckoned Solomon Cooper forward to bring the message.
While he was speaking, Solomon noticed that young Tony Cuzak, who stood next to Chris and Micah, was listening intently to the message on the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ. Solomon filed that observation away for later pursuit.
Ezra closed in prayer and then dismissed everyone to their wagon, saying that the train would pull out in ten minutes.
As Tony headed for the wagon he was driving for the Coopers, he heard his father’s voice. “Tony, wait up. I want to talk to you.”
Tony stopped and turned around. “Sure, Pa. What about?”
“I watched you when that Cooper idiot was preachin’. You were drinkin’ it in like it was somethin’ good.”
“It is something good, Pa.”
“Well, I don’t want you listenin’ to that Bible and Jesus stuff, y’hear?”
“It makes sense to me,” Tony said. “I’ve heard you talk against it all my life, but people like the Coopers have something you and I don’t have. You have to admit that they’re different.”
“Yeah, they’re different, all right. Fool fanatics is what they are. That lame-brained wagon master and his nephew, too. I’m tellin’ you, Tony, stay away from ’em. And don’t listen to that tommyrot they put out anymore. Ain’t no such thing as heaven and hell. When a man dies, he dies like a dog. That’s the end of ’im.”
“You’re wrong, Pa. And deep down inside, you know you’re wrong. Like Mr. Cooper said, the very fact that Jesus Christ broke the bands of death and came out of the grave is proof that there’s life after death.”
Cuzak released a string of profanity, cursing his youngest son, and stomped away, saying, “You’re too much like your mother! They’ll make a fanatical fool outta you, too!�
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With an ache in his heart at mention of the mother he had never known, Tony slowly moved toward his wagon.
Mariana Cuzak had died giving birth to Tony. When he was a small boy he had learned from neighbors that she went to church faithfully—in spite of Walt’s protests—and tried to teach the Bible to her sons. But Walt wouldn’t let her.
Tony was convinced that his mother was a Christian like Solomon Cooper described in his sermon. And he was beginning to want the same thing for himself.
The wagon train arrived at the Kaw River, and made its circle just outside the small settlement of Topeka. After supper, the men and boys went around a bend in the river to bathe beneath the stars, and the women and girls chose a more private spot.
When the children were bedded down, the women brought out their washtubs while the men fed wood to the fires and hauled water from the river. The fiddle, banjo, and harmonica provided music while the men greased wagon wheels and the women washed clothing and hung it on rope cords strung from wagon to wagon.
The next morning, Ezra stood before the people and said, “Now, folks, as you can see, the river is a long way across. The spring thaw up north has it running pretty deep. It’s about twelve feet deep in the middle. Your wagons are made to float, and your animals can swim. However, you’ll find that the oxen and mules don’t know that. Back there at the Blue, they could see the bottom, so they didn’t balk. It’s gonna be different here.
“Everybody get out your whips. We’ll cross at an upstream slant, just like we did at the Blue. Only this time, we’ll have ropes tied to your wagons, and men standing on the opposite bank, holding the ropes. I’ll be right here on this bank. Just follow my instructions when it’s your turn to cross, and you’ll do fine.”
Ezra’s oxen had crossed many a river. When Micah guided the lead wagon to the bank, they moved in without hesitation, and soon were pulling the wagon up the bank on the other side.
It was totally different with the next wagon. The mules in the harness laid back their ears, dug in their hooves, and hee-hawed in protest. A few cracks of the whip over their heads, and they took the plunge. Seconds later they were swimming across.