Rush

by Danny E. Allen

  Day One: I am gathering all I have and my home-matron and boarders prepared a going-away party and the men brought one horse from the local horse-boarder. On entry-day I was ready. Everyone wished me off and put me with a traveling-family. We left Boston that after-noon.

  The weather was rainy and we were 40-miles into the journey and set-up camp. The horses needed rest and we cooked in open range, along the trail. We slept in tents it was a quiet-night so I sang French folksongs everyone joined-in. I promised myself I’ll be helpful as they were to me. Calvin Trout and his-family enjoyed my presence and assigned me to care for his wife and children. It has been a nice-trip so far. Though the weather was difficult, I was told it would get worse, we were ready. We all were told to stick-together and follow the guiders’ directions. I have heard of the hardships going West of men and women being lost, Indian-battles and the long, fought hardships of survival…

  This journal represented my life’s dream, the friends, companions and protectors are valuable-assets to overcome dangers. I am not afraid of savages, threats or test-of-trials… America is my home and her lands are vibrant from her shores to her trees, valleys and streams… If her mysteries, lie-in wait she can not be left abandoned-in solitude and betrayed in ominous, self-fear… My friends and adopted-family, have made me welcome and encouraged. It is sharing and loving…- Something, I have rarely had since leaving Lyons. America is beautiful country. Her warrens are full-of treasures. If I find nothing else in my search for happiness I will have reached a place like no-other and found, satisfaction…

  Day Two: I awoke with the morning meal-bell, we traveled on the soil-trail and the sky was taunt-blue. The rains have passed and now the air is clean. The smell of food quauved in the air and it tasted, as good. Our Cook ‘Pauley’, is an old-hand, he has done this before. I spoke with him, on a number-of-occasions, he has a wife and son. He is from Italy he migrated West… And now, he lives in New York. He became a cook while living in the lower-harbor. His wife was a cook and their son is a sailor. He decided to venture to make money and buy-land to grow grapes for wine and open a restaurant in California. All my dreams are similar to my fellow-travelers. Everyone seems devoted or inspired to have a self-goal. The over-seas journey was not as positive, as the purpose, of self-ambition as, this… I will keep learning, understanding and encouraging-others in the trek… The birds and animals, fish and lakes are wonders, to behold. Its perfectly, well that our venture-involved a view of the vital, virtues so spanning-space, spirit and freedom…

  Tonight, I listened to the trail-guide’s stories of past-adventurers… Some of the men, joined-in and embellished some of the portrayal of changes in their new-life… They all were quite, moving and have potential. Some of the single-men were pairing with the girls and gaining private-companionship. I stand by myself, watching. A seamstress has a job-while those less enterprising should follow their heart to less, professional things…

  Day Three: While viewing the forest-pass I was sincerely moved by the endearing-majesty of the grandeur-land… Surely, one-day there will come those who can stay and sit up residence, just to claim its wealth. One of the gold-seekers, a man, named Will Mc Masters, a stocky Irishman who could lift an ox-wagon wheel-axle sat with me as I prepared sewing of the ladies‘ dresses. He told me he was following a dream to be rich. He’d come from an Irish City that was one of the poorest yet, hardiest regions of Europe. I began to understand he was a devoted, honest and dependable man. He had ideas intentions and interest, large for his image. He saw way beyond his means, yet he was not ashamed, embarrassed or overly, prideful. He seemed to be justified in his willingness to overcome. I was quite fascinated and fortunate, in the man. Who could actually, explain the focus that was not foresworn; if anything this encompassed attitude, earnestness and exactness like no-other. Un-intimately, he was quite strong of mind, spirit and devotion. He had three brothers, he was the second oldest and actually, provided for them before, himself…

  His pale blue-eyes strong voice and clear-presence held my attention for hours… He was not a man of airs, but knew exactly what he wanted. We sat on his wagon, which was large, he had knowledge of where we were headed and what was there. At times, he aided the trail-master to guiding-in the right-direction… He was an engaging-man. Encompassed in ideas infused with foundation and affirm… My father said a man could best show a woman his best-side through his deepest-secrets; this is such a man, outstanding…

  Day Twenty-eight: Will and I have reached the third-step. It is a vast place of Kansas-all the things, a place of abounds… Fulfilling, even the lightest gratuity and wants. Her birds sing. Her animals are bountiful, her plains, valleys, lakes and streams employ great-designs. The weather, had cleared and the snows were few. I and Mc Masters, spent our afternoon walking through prairie-flowers, it was September 17, by calendar… Winter was coming, and we were advised that we will be going through hard-country, the natives were seen observing us in this region. They gave a peaceful, hand-sign. Some say they, were known to attack past-travelers; scalping them and killing all-present… They dressed in skin-pelts…

  ***

  The gold-rush, had men lose their lives fighting Indians, alone. Will, said a man and his horse were no match against savages… The papers, in Boston said gold-fever would cause some men to try, anything. I have never seen this, the men of our train, were subdued…it was obvious, something was strangely, about to happen. The boss told everyone to ‘stay-close’ to the train until further-notice. Kansas territory was a flat-region…we had no trouble seeing for-miles. The rains, came as we reached the fourth-stage. We fed the horses, regrouped and had taken recompiles. The man, running the trail-station advised of a coming hard-year. The trail-boss started to take-on weapons, told us to learn, to shoot and emergency-preparedness.

  The men understood, no one was to go far from the train. Some men volunteered to protect the others. We were told the women should stay, inside the wagon until, nightfall. Will, had weapons; hand-pistols, rifles and knives. He said he would become a ‘crack-shot’… When he began firing, the noise spooked the horses. The boss said they would need to teach them to remain-still… Will, brought winter-clothes to spare. He knew, how to dress warm in Ireland’s temperate weather. I and the other girls bought heavy-cloth for our blankets, dresses and coats. We stayed-up, nights making them; some of the girls, were maturing…the laughs and smiles grew less frequent… The men, still courted them yet only with solemnness. Before long some will seek husband’s and the fathers would wish this, as women were a load, even familial… I joined Will’s oxen-wagon. He’d taken, near the front-train. Will was a good man perhaps, we’d marry yet dangers would have to be overcome. Even with hopes, we had a hidden-promise that tomorrow would keep us going.

  End

  Two

  Stage-Five:

  October 27, 1841: The snows fell as we entered Colorado territory. We are all tired. Some of the men have turned back after a band of thieves, a bushwhacker-gang tried to disguise themselves as travelers. Our group fought them-off wounding two of our men. No one seems unmoved yet I remain resolved to move-down “Donner-Pass” then on to the California-peninsula. The families were hit hardest, as abundance and safety are limited and perils, lurk. My Will is steadfast, he organized a few men to go fishing in a near-by stream warmed by a geyser. We ate good, yet weather is taking its toll. The family I had joined, travels quietly… Unmoved, they are taking it the hardest. I try to entertain many with French-tales, stories of my country and the Napolean Wars. The sting of cold has touched everyone from steward to straggler. I must say isolation quells the heart and boggles the mind from intention to exquisiteness. As the winds blow, and cold deepens we feel arrogant to out-distance it. I have sewn the last of our fabric used for blinds, bedding and blankets. It is becoming increasingly, difficult to keep-up to the tasks of daily-life. With hunting for food, m
aintaining self-chores and keeping a clear-mind invests greater-energy… We have to walk the animals, and there has been times our equipment has broken..

  I have committed to myself to making it. There is no choice. I dream of my family in the warmth of Lyons, picking grapes and playing with my sisters. It is increasingly, difficult to move-on. The snows are falling ever-deeper and finding comfort is not an option… Our guide tells us, we have fared well. I think of if were not sheer hope we would have succumb. My father caused me to be strong, live as I believed and trust-in those, who do their best. I have done, so.

  Stage-Six:

  November 26, 1845~

  After five-hours of travel with the sun’s rays flowing, we have come within 20-miles of Donner’s Pass… The snow is gentler yet they say this could be deceiving. We have seen dead-journeyers frozen in-place, their clothes as if warming them in oblivion. We said a prayer and went-on. The gold-fever has subsided yet it stills spirits in the eyes-of-men. The arrogance, stymied by dearest-reality of death. I have over-heard men while at fireside, warming themselves over flame, with the ode to ore. I don’t want to believe this yet, greed has a strange-power… My Will stands by his honor. Bravely, ventures to coordinate, what truly-promises in the discovering, earning and using this-metal. He withstands, its wealth and opulence and only thinks of its use…

  We enter Donner’s opening, to ready the ascent. I believe this foretells the malady; which has held a constrained unease and infamy. The trials, have been inordinate. A dispassionate-causes as it has interrupts-our lives in such mental-manifest… When I out-distance the occluded, obstacles I will be empowered with the lessons of these threats of ‘mortality’…

  December 2, 1845

  …My parents are the ones responsible for my-living to overcome, enable and given, support to empower the precepts to my out coming, in vital manifest-basis… In the alluding testament, Our Lord in Trust guided us, through this great-arena, given of presence its wonders, ways and withholdings that emanate, best-broadly to give us benefit, bestowal and brace… A world of rewards, untold… My fellow-travelers have lost life; valued, vitality and vestment… In the name of moneyed-ennoble; for some, will never-see… The hearing-portrayal-base is a fact, never-fulfilling the calling-of its being. A foolish-factor impetus in-story as starkly, strident…

  I believe many of these people will never see that promise of profit, can never-fully, be proven… I, ideally came West to enterprise, not as inceptive-empowering; my story stands as truth, the trust of American-frontier, will be its abreast of bestowal… In such a young-country strong, prospering and profound while justifying, promise and not overt preciousness… I am ready, French-born, American and west-ward Vintner. I will always adore this land, my home. The greatest-land, ever-existing…

  ~We have entered Donner’s Pass several days now and everyone has cloistered to make it into the valley, ahead… It has been said if winter reaches its harshest, we may not survive… Will, has taken the helm of guidance and protection. As our engineer, in-charge of resources, safety and protecting us; as the trail-master has suffered frost-bite. Though he has been a life-saver, he has served his job, well… Will has been his under-study for four-stages. He has the trust of most of the men who, with his guidance have perservered. I have profoundly, enjoyed his presence. Some of the girls think he will wed me. He honors me with such ‘versatility’… In all my travels from France to the far-reaching, West the order of one, in-all; in its framework, foundation; fundament and focal never have I seen such state of standard-living. Though we sought through imperil, imposing and import, the Grande-destiny strata, in impart and prevailing…

  I will stay-close to Will, my based-benefactor who, I have seen do things like no-other man. He has went alone into his duties and I, as he, braved the cold to find a new-life. I hold him in high-standard and would entitle him to my husbandry. I advance this knowledge to him when the time presents, itself…

  December 11, 1845: Last-stage.

  Dear Diary,

  On Monday December 25, 1845 I will wed William Mc Masters. I have written my family by ship-mail of my future husband a hard-working business-man, trail-blazer and gold-miner. He proposed to me the night we arrived in California-territory. The ocean was a deep-blue and the sun was warm. Most of us sat staring at the setting-sun for hours. Then we bought loads of food, wine and cheese and meat. Some of it went un-eaten the seabirds flews and we threw them bread and they at it veraciously. Most of my party went about starting their new-lives and slowly, recovering from lessons, learned… It is of most-important that we understand our grave-effort in venture; ‘verging’ and vocal-outstandingly; a promise-of-future and forging, we have overcome… Our wedding is the start of ‘hope’. We shall forever, be the product of our valor when the fruit-of-voyage, proved a saga-of-courage…

  [Wedding Day]

  William Mc Masters my husband gave wed to be, this day… We went on honeymoon in San Francisco. A few of the girls from our train were wedding-maids and the wife, whom invited me to join their team was my maid-of-honor. They had started a market-restaurant and settled-in… Will bought us a home in a valley new Los Angeles. There were many gold-seekers, con-men and claim-stakers of which Will had a knowledge. He is a bright and strong savvy-entrepreneur. He does work for a nearby, industry as surveyor. Spends 5-hours a day in the sun and weekends, plotting his own. He will not let it go, undone. He has it marked and awarded…when he is there, he is happy. I requested that he spend time with me. I wash, mend and work for a merchant who has more business than he needs. We keep a nest-egg for, when we achieve our goal of success. I have money and plan for sooner concerns… I do not question Will’s purpose, yet a wife is more important. He is emphatic about all he does and I try to follow along… He will not, rest. I intend to follow close-behind until I am needed, elsewhere…

  L.P.S.~ The doctor has told me to expect a baby in eight-months. I excitingly surprised William with a bottle of Chambliss and meat-stew. He sat quietly, contemplating staring at his work, at-hand. [“You know my job will pay for our needs”… “And my work here will be ready to make profit in about a year.”] Will didn’t flitch in his thinking, yet I was uncertain. His work was important, true. But a baby would change that… If he didn’t see this I would have to take care of our child and accept a lesser-role in his life. Our baby is most important. I did not want, to be divided. I will take him aside and advance my position, it didn’t revolve around gold, work or land but ‘ever’-contentions…

  I have bought the things I need and have-not told my husband. He will find-out soon enough… More gold-baring men have come-by land and sea to find their-fortunes. This insanity has caused men everything and still, more come. I do not know if I will bring my child-up in such misfortune. My place is with my husband yet my love for him adorns, a deeper need to have a family, alongside my husband. The deep-darkness of the fever emanates through-out this town. I have arrived here to obtain a new-life for this I shall prove my worth…

  **Will is growing worn for being driven yet his investment of time tirelessly and abruptly bends any hope of his reaching his-dream… Sara Patrice Mc Masters is her name, named for my sister and my Aunt Patrice. William has been shuttled-away to see his daughter. He says she is beautiful and will work with me in the kitchen he held her and sang an Irish-lullaby… I will take her everywhere and she will see her Daddy, every chance I get.

  Dear Journal,

  Sarah is six-months, I have let her sit in our land alongside her Daddy at work. She has grown, like my dear Aunt and laughs loud and happy. She is very strong and endeavors at every chance to grab-hold and touch. She is smart, brave and wondering. She will be her Papa’s pride and joy. I have written home to my dear Papa. He is growing older… My Mama has said to stay near my husband, the baby will understand. I feel my husband will come-to-terms with his new-role. The encounters I have s
een from men trying to take his land from beneath him, has made him leery as my love for him has been distanced. I have no-time to resolve his chosen-field… I will not let him become embittered, yet I am stretched far, by my duties. I will beg him to let his work, rest… I know he is a strong courageous-man and he is smart. Yet his dream has taken our life to-strain…

  Will came home drunk and bruised. It seems a group of men fed him Whiskey and beat him… I will not allow the man I love, be injured. He will make a decision within the week… I have put him to bed and in the morning; give him coffee, he will clear his head. Will’s life is being threaten by his land. The city was safer…Will could work as a surveyor; lead an easy-life. -[Genny had a more than stable income she had already saved nearly, twice as much as Will’s daily-job. Will did make money off his gold-ore.] I know the fever is strong yet I truly believe our love is strongest. After traveling West… Will and I have endured so much that we cannot be separated…

  I, have notice William spending many hours investigating the land. He knows the soil, the rocks, the streams. Learnt that he could detect even the minutest-detail; tells me he knows what he is doing. I have understood, that the things he is trying to do is not because he denies other things but his dream he has held so long is behind his strong-endeavors that has ‘flowered’ in all his intense-energies of leaving Ireland, arriving in America and trail-blazing across the continent. The question that I pose is whether he is safe by-himself as he agonizes over the things uncertain and the things truly at-stake. I, his daughter and personal-dealings, with the dangers, at ‘our’ peril…