Chapter Eighteen

 

One wagon was damaged so badly, it had to be cut in half and harnessed as a two-wheeler. The man that owned it didn't flinch. He had a good team of oxen and he had no wife, so it was no problem for him to continue on in whatever he could.

Good grazing helped a lot in keeping the cattle and horses fed, as some had mules, but most knew that oxen were more dependable. They were cheaper, hardier and could go longer on an empty stretch of land. Plus, when need be, they would take to water when horses would balk. However, there were good and bad things about the oxen. They didn't fare as well in a desert, that was for sure. As they followed the Humboldt River along, they stopped one day as they were getting close to the forty-mile desert, Cully insisted that everyone needed to soak their wagon wheels.

"Why?" Johnson asked with frustration. "Won't that take a lot of time? Won't it warp the wood?"

"No, we aren't going to stay in the water long enough for that. A day or so but going through the desert the iron on the wheels will loosen and fall off and cause us some grief, the cool of the water will tighten them, thus preventing more wheel damage. This part of the country is rocky and filled with winding turns and steep gullies and a lot of the land is made of pure granite. Have you ever pulled a wagon over granite?"

"No, I can't say I have." Johnson seemed to settle down a bit.

"It isn't easy, and with this many wagons it will be time consuming. Thank God, we have the weather on our side. This country is rough, and we've managed well, but I don't want any damage and getting stuck in the middle of the desert, so we must leave wagons behind. So, we take an extra day or two to wet the wheels." Cully told him. "And Johnson."

Cully stopped and stared at the man. "I'm getting tired of explaining my reasons to you, Johnson. Everything I do, or don't do is for the benefit of the wagons and the people. Going across that desert will be no picnic, and we need our wagons to keep moving. Breaking down in the desert is not something we need to go through. I want the animals free to graze, because going through that hot dry mess won't help them at all. And we need them. All of them. You should know, in the desert, the wheels dry out, and the iron pulls away, causing problems. You've seen wheels left in the dirt on the trial. Most of them had that problem. After a good soak, I want all the wheels greased. So, soak the wheels." He told him.

Johnson nodded and walked off. From his expression he could tell that Johnson was embarrassed but he always questioned, and Cully didn't like that. They either trust me or not!

Johnny came up to him smiling, "Is he giving you grief, boss?"

"A little. Such a damned green-horn and questions everything." Cully shook his head in disgust. "I realize that a lot of wagon masters would keep pushing on with a relentless pace, but by doing what needs to be done, we'll save time and like I told him, I sure don't want to break down while we're crossing that desert."

"I'm glad you are as careful as you are. I've seen the wagons that some of the people in front of us have left behind, the bent wheels, the iron stripped. I gotta admit you know your business. You aren't a lot older than me, where did you learn all of this from?"

"I had a good teacher. I went with Seth Barker several times. Not a better wagon master alive, I can tell you. He taught me some mean rules and he was so right. Some people would ignore it and go on, not realizing what they were doing. And that Johnson character, he just has no experience. I hope he learns something from this trip, because going on up to Oregon won't be easy either."

"I sure think you know your business."

"Thanks, that's one vote of confidence, and I can sure use it about now." Cully chuckled. "He doesn't have to go to Oregon unless the people are dead set on it. I know they are giving away land grants, but they could settle here. California is still young and growing and it's might pretty in places. You ever seen the red-woods?"

"No, I've heard tell of them. I hadn't even seen those lodgepole pines, they are so tall, sometimes you can't see the tops of them."

"Mighty pretty trees." Cully smiled.

"You gonna settle out here, Cully?"

"No, I doubt it. Probably go back where I came from. Take a few more up the trail. I've got no plans, but something usually comes along."

"Ever thought of settling down?"

Cully wasn't sure how to answer. "I've considered it. Maybe one day I'll find a piece of land I want to work and get me an Indian wife and settle down."

"An Indian wife?" Johnny laughed. "I kind of thought you was sweet on Miss Abby." Johnny teased.

"I don't mix business with pleasure, Johnny. Abby has her plan and I don't think she aims to change them. She's a mighty pretty lady, but I'd probably be better off with an Indian wife. I'm not much on being a gentleman."

Abby had been just around the wagon from them and heard him. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she ran off.

The people didn't gripe though at stopping, in fact, the women and children all seemed to appreciate a day off.

Another baby was born and that evening the women all congregated to cook a big supper and the men killed a cow and cooked it over the flames. It was a day of celebration.

The woman had a baby girl and she wailed through the evening air before settling at her mother's breast.

Music began when one man brought out his fiddle and dancing came next.

Later, Abby came up to Cully that evening. "Well, you've gotten us this far without much problems. No diseases, no outlaws, no Indians. We'll be in California before we know it."

"I hope so. I figure mid-September. We still got a rough desert to face and the Sierra Mountains to cross. But if we take our time and do it right, we'll be there before too long. That's the reason for this stop, to make sure we do make it. Sometimes a wagon master is focused on getting there so hard, that he forgets the little things that assures him he'll make it."

"How did you get so wise?" She asked with a slight smile to her lips.

"Had a good teacher." He smiled back.

"Seth?"

"Seth. So why aren't you dancing, like most of the women?" He asked.

She hesitated. "I've told you before I don't dance."

"I guess you did. But this is a celebration. Let's try it again, huh?"

"I can't dance. Never learned." She said softly.

"Well, this is a celebration, and I don't think anyone would make fun of you for trying." He encouraged. "It's easy, come here and I'll show you."

She blushed, "I really… "

But he took her in his arms and waltzed her around the little area around the chuck wagon. She chuckled aloud. He twirled her out and back toward him and their eyes met. It was as though time stood still for a minute. They didn’t' breathe, they didn't move, they just stared.

She broke away from him.

"Now you really should know, those miners are a hardy bunch of men, usually. They live hard and die easy. But there are two things most of them enjoy, drinking and dancing. Well, maybe three, they like to gamble too."

"Really, I'll try to remember that." She started to walk away.

"Abby," the way he called her name, had her turning to look at him. "You've been pretty standoffish since the snake incident. You could have easily slapped my face for that. I wouldn't have blamed you."

Again, her cheeks flushed. "You don't slap someone when they save you from being bitten."

"Is that why you didn't?" he asked standing very still and watching her facial features change quickly.

"No," she barely uttered and hurriedly walked away.

He wanted to go after her and ask what she meant by that, but he knew better. Instead he stood there wishing she had told him why. Wishing he'd held her tighter, closer, and maybe even kissed her again. But that wasn't wise, he kept telling himself. It was damn hard being the boss of a bunch of beautiful young women, especially one as pretty as Miss Abby.