The Boys in Blue and Gray

By Chris James

Chapter Six

It took a few days for Rollins to finish organizing the wagon train the way he wanted, and that included the small detachment of soldiers that would ride along for a few days. General Mitchell was the regional commander and he was having a difficult time with his Indians. Solving disputes between the tribes was one of his duties and he had called a pow-wow. But even as the elders met Mitchell was afraid some of the younger ones would cause trouble before the gathering was done.

The store had painted a green square on the bags of goods Abe bought so they could be identified; all the wagons had different symbols they used. Zach had offered to hold the lead on the mule as they rode back, he wanted to get used to the animal. The woman they had first met now introduced herself as Molly Bennett, wife of Joshua and mother of three young children.

"You'll meet the rest this evening at the campfire. My husband is out with the hunting party and if they get lucky I'll invite you to supper. I imagine Mr. Rollins will assign you to our group since we could use a couple more men. We've set ourselves up to rotate the cooking chores, but I don't suppose you know how to cook?" She asked.

"I can, but I'd be better off just helping out," Zach said.

Molly smiled. "You'd be most welcome, we all have chores. Your friend Abe can join the hunters."

Rollins agreed to put them in the Bennett group, telling them that Molly ran a tight ship. He helped them sort out their supplies and load the bags that would be hung on the mule. And he nodded when he saw the store of ammunition for their weapons.

"Almost bought me one of those Spencers, but I have my daddy's old rifle and it suits me fine." Rollins led them over to his wagon and pulled out the largest musket Abe had ever seen. "I can hit a buffalo at four hundred yards with this old thing, works on Indians too."

"I saw their camp when we rode in, who are they?" Zach asked.

"The General has been out here for months trying to settle the disputes between the Sioux and the Pawnee, those tribes hate each other. He isn't having much luck, but we'll be gone before they try and kill each other. That camp is filled with Sioux and a few Cheyenne, mostly older folks who feel safer this close to the fort.

"You'll discover it's mostly the young bucks that cause all the trouble. I'll have Matthew take you over there after supper, you got any trade goods?" Rollins asked.

"Trade for what?" Zach asked.

"They like bits of cloth, buttons and the like. They have some bead work and carvings they trade, they don't understand cash money."

"Who is Matthew?" Abe asked.

"My sister's boy, she decided he needed to grow up and sent him along this trip." Rollins shook his head. "He gets along with the Indians pretty good; you'll see why when he gets back with the hunting party."

Abe and Zach went back to Molly's wagon and told her they'd been assigned to her group. She told them they would welcome the extra guns when it became necessary.

"And from what Mr. Rollins says it will be necessary once we begin to travel along the Platte. I just don't know what to expect from those savages and I have small children," Molly said. "But we'll show you the Indian drill before too long, Rollins will explain that too."

Abe was beginning to like this woman, when she put her foot down everyone in her family jumped. Joshua Bennett turned out to be a large affable man who was also a crack shot, the hunting party brought back two antelope. Molly set about placing the meat over the fire and then whipped up biscuits and greens to go with the meal.

There were eight children in the four wagons of their little group; Molly's three and five others. The Bennett's, the Chambers', the Rodger's and Mason families made up their group and Molly took it upon herself to introduce Abe and Zach. The boys smiled and Zach felt the eyes of the Mason's fourteen year old daughter appraise him; it might be a long trip.

Supper was grand, and Abe gave Molly praise for her food. The women set about cleaning up and Abe was just about to get into a conversation with the men when another young man arrived at their fire. The broad shoulders and the red hair, this could only be another Rollins.

Matthew wasn't over fourteen years old and he stood taller than most boys his age. But it wasn't the red hair or his height that a person might notice, it was the mark that covered almost half his face and plunged beneath the collar of his shirt. Abe had seen a man with this kind of birthmark before, but this boy carried his distinction with pride.

"Matthew Rollins," The boy said as he shook hands. "My uncle said to look you up."

"I'm Abe and this is Zach. Your uncle said you knew a lot about the Indians over there."

"I do, would you like to meet some of them?"

"Is it safe?" Zach said.

"Sure is, they think I'm marked by the Great Spirit," Matthew said.

Matthew led them down to the bridge across the river and they approached the gathering of tepees. There was an old man sitting beside the fire in front of one of the tepees.

"This is Walking Horse," Matthew explained as they approached. "Of all the Sioux here he's one of the few who speaks any English." He approached the man and squatted. "Hello, Walking Horse."

"Matt-a-hew... you come to visit this old man?" Walking Horse replied.

"I did, is your daughter taking good care of you today?"

The old man grinned and nodded, his eyes never leaving the fire. "She brings me food and drink, I do not suffer greatly."

"I have two friends here, they have never met a great Sioux chief before," Matthew said.

Walking Horse cackled with amusement. "So why do you bring them to me? I am no longer chief of anything except my own future, Matt-a-hew."

"You were a great chief of your people, now you are just a wise old man," Matthew said.

"Old yes, wise I do not know. The young ones do not listen to wisdom, your General speaks, our chiefs speak and the forked tongues of the Pawnee spout lies. Our young men will cause trouble, Matt-a-hew... you had best be careful."

"I am sleeping with both eyes open, Walking Horse."

"And these friends, what do they seek?"

Matthew turned to Abe. "He asks you the question."

Abe sat down on the ground and looked across the fire at Walking Horse. From this vantage point he could see the man was blind and very old. "I travel to the great ocean in the west because of the war back east," Abe said.

"A smart man always seeks a place of peace, I have not seen this 'ocean,' what is it?" Walking Horse asked.

"The land of the white man and the Indian are surrounded with a great body of water, one to the east and one to the west," Abe said. "The rivers of many places flow into these oceans."

"The Great Spirit is wise, it takes water to make life," Walking Horse said. Zach had sat down during the conversation and Walking Horse sensed his presence. "And Matt-a-hew, who is your quiet friend?"

"Another traveler," Matthew said.

"Ahh, there are not so many travelers these days as there were in the past. I cannot see them anymore, but I can smell the cooking fires and hear the wagon wheels. Do you seek the ocean as well?"

"I do," Zach said. "A man must find his own way in this life, I'm seeking mine."

Walking Horse nodded. "You are all young men, the future of your people. Our young men cannot see any tomorrows, they have lost their way."

"Or had it stolen," Matthew said.

Walking Horse waved his hand in dismissal. "For many years, through all the seasons, I have known there were changes to come. I spoke of these things and no one would listen. The white man is like an endless flood, they push us this way and that and we resist. There is no stopping that flood; we must accept our fate and swim where the water takes us."

"I would not have it so," Matthew said. "There is no thought of peace between our people and that is the truth."

Walking Horse nodded. "Then one of us shall perish. Have peace on your journey, think of me when you see your ocean and maybe my thoughts will see them too."

"Thank you," Abe said.

"Good bye, Walking Horse," Matthew said.

"May the Great Spirit guide your steps, Matt-a-hew. You have been an old man's pleasure these past few weeks."

They left Walking Horse sitting before his fire and Matthew was silent on their return across the bridge. It was Zach who spoke what they were all thinking.

"The wisdom of the ages is in that man, if only I could learn half of what he knows. Will we face any danger from the young men in his tribe?"

"Probably not, the Sioux have been pretty peaceful this year. The Pawnee and the Shoshone are the problem now, but we're a strong force, they'll think twice before attacking," Matthew said.

They were up at dawn with the sound of oxen being prodded into place before the wagons. Abe and Zach loaded their mule and checked the saddle bags on their horses. Much of the weight in those bags had been transferred to the mule, but they each carried sufficient ammunition for immediate use. By mid-morning the first of the wagons moved off and slowly the others followed along at a walking pace.

This would be the greatest anguish that Abe had to suffer, the pace was torturously slow. Zach rode beside the Mason's wagon talking to Beth who rode in the back. The boy had already said he wasn't interested in the girl; it was just a friendly relationship. Abe was pretty sure the girl had other things in mind, she would bear watching.

By late afternoon Rollins had the wagons off the trail and into a patch of grass beside the river. Abe was furious; they had traveled less than ten miles. But Rollins put the groups through their paces, circling the wagons in a defensive posture. In effect it became a corral with oxen and horses inside with all the people.

The space in the middle was about four hundred feet across, the animals taking up half of it. Fire pits were dug as women and children were sent out to fetch kindling. The river was lined with trees here, a good source for their needs. But further along on the prairie there would be no such luxury as the Platte wandered through barren lands.

Abe and Zach went with two other men as guards for the wood gathering party. Rollins was taking no chances that some of the Pawnee had followed them to steal what they could. One of the soldiers told Abe that in some tribes the stealing of female children was highly regarded as a sport, a brave might have several wives and a white one was prized.

But there was plenty of firewood close at hand and no one wandered far from the protective circle. A few of the younger boys brought out fishing poles and sat along the banks of the river. They were warned to stay out of the water because the Platte was known for its pits filled with quicksand. Abe and Zach remained behind to watch over the fishermen, it gave them a chance to talk.

"This pace is gonna kill us," Abe said. "At this rate we won't make it over the mountains before winter sets in."

"You think Rollins doesn't know that? Why would he lead these people into danger?" Zach asked.

"Joshua Bennett says if they run into bad weather then they'll just turn back and set up a winter camp. If it wasn't for the Indians I'd say we ought to take off to the next fort ourselves."

"We can't do this alone, Abe... we decided that."

"I know, I'm sorry," Abe said. "I'll probably be crazy... " He stopped in mid-sentence, staring off into the brush on the far side of the river. "You see that clump of trees? Look about a dozen yards west and tell me what I'm looking at."

Zach scanned the brush on the far side of the river and saw no movement, but he did see something, it was too far away... and then it moved. "It looks like an Indian," He said.

"Just what I thought, a scout checking us out. Let's get the kids back to camp," Abe said. He called for the three boys to follow them and they walked back to the wagons.

Abe ran over to the Rollins wagon and told them what he'd seen.

"I don't doubt it," Rollins said. "They'll probably follow us for a while. No one leaves the camp alone, spread the word."

The camp had supper and when darkness fell they set out guards for the night. Matthew was sure it would be the Pawnee. They were still close to the fort and the presence of soldiers would make any Indians cautious, they passed a quiet night.

The train moved out in the early morning, following the trail which ran parallel to the river. Abe and Zach rode with one of the soldiers on rear guard, a slow walking pace for their horses. Rollins didn't stop until after mid-day, and only to rest the oxen and horses. They sat in the trail, all strung out as water was brought to the animals.

Abe and Zach dismounted beside the river, rifles in hand to guard the watering parties. But after scanning the brush for a while they saw nothing.

"I don't see anything but I feel them out there," Abe said.

"You think it's just a matter of time?"

"They'll wait until they think we're weakest or until they get enough braves together, at least that's what Rollins says."

The Indians followed them for several days, occasionally showing themselves in the distance on horseback. Rollins said they were working up the nerve. They were a hundred miles from Kearney now and the soldiers had turned back. The small band of Indians they had seen earlier now appeared much larger and Rollins ordered them off the trail and into a circle.

The first warning they had was when a couple of braves rode out of the brush and fired arrows at the men unhitching the oxen. No one was hit and the braves rode away. Rollins told them to get the oxen moved inside quickly and they pushed the wagons tighter together.

They took defensive positions behind the wagons and none too soon, the second bunch of Indians swept in towards them. There were more arrows and some rifle shots, the men returned fire. Abe pulled off four shots, one of them knocking an Indian from his horse. Zack held his fire as the Indians moved out of range.

They were surrounded on all sides, and every time the Indians backed off the men would pull chests and trunks off the wagon beds and build their barricade. The braves numbered about forty and they kept circling through the brush. The only place they were out in the open was close to the river, but they seemed to know what they were doing.

Rollins made the rounds, checking the barricade and telling them to shoot low.

"They'll give us the rush at some point so be prepared for some of them to dismount and try to climb over," He warned.

Abe settled in beside Zach with a grin. "Are you planning to shoot that rifle today?"

"I just never shot at a moving target before," Zach said.

"You'll have to try at some point, just keep that revolver handy."

It was just as Rollins said, the Indians made a major move. They circled closer and then several braves made straight for the Mason's wagon which was closer to Zach. Abe saw the move and drew his pistol as two braves came right at him, firing their muskets before dismounting. Zach finally squeezed off a shot, hitting one of the braves in the chest and the man went down. But the other came much too close and Abe put two pistol shots into him.

The braves made a general charge at the wagons but were repulsed, and then Abe heard Rollins' musket discharge, it sounded like a cannon. Out across the flats of the river an Indian fell off his horse and the braves circling them gave a general cry of anger and pulled back. The men of the train kept on firing until the last Indian was out of sight, and then there was quiet.

Two of theirs had been wounded and a dozen Indians lay on the ground outside the circle. No one left their firing positions and the women went around with cups of water which the men gratefully accepted.

"You did well," Molly said as she handed the boys their cups.

"They got too damn close," Abe said. "But we stopped them."

"Who was that Indian Rollins shot? He had to be three hundred yards away and it was like the ball picked him right off that horse," Zach asked.

"I think that was their leader, he's still lying out there in the flats," Abe replied.

"Will they be back?"

"Not in daylight, they would be fools to come at us again. We'll probably keep a heavy guard tonight, and we ought to reload right now."

The men stayed close to the barricades for a while as the women set up their cooking fires. Their first defense had been a good one; Abe was confidant that Rollins knew what he was doing. He looked across at the big man's wagon and saw Matthew talking to the Mason girl. Good, better him than Zach.

The full moon was up that night and the guards could see all the way across the river, the Indians wouldn't be back. Rollins confirmed that they were Pawnee and that he had shot their head man.

"I saw him early on but he was a hard target to follow. And then he pulled up to watch those two braves that almost reached the wagons and when they fell he stopped short and I nailed him. I bet he thought he was out of range, now they'll wonder what kind of guns we have in here," Rollins said.

Zach sat on the ground close to Matthew. "Did you shoot any of them?" the boy asked.

"I didn't want to until those two came charging in on us. I never killed anyone before," Zach said. "It's kinda sad, what is their problem?"

Matthew sighed. "This is their land, they don't want us here. In the beginning the settlers all headed farther west, but now we have forts and people want to stay when they find good farm land. And then there's the buffalo, we shoot too many of them. To the Indians the animal is sacred, that's their way of life."

"How did you learn all this stuff?" Zach asked.

"Uncle Tom taught me a lot when he came to visit, and I spent some time with Walking Horse. My mother said I was old enough to make this trip, so here I am. What made you decide to go west?"

"I met Abe and decided it was time to get out on my own. My mother was headed for New York and I didn't want to go with her. The war in Maryland killed both my father and brother; there wasn't anything left for me to do."

"My father was killed at the first battle of Manassas," Matthew said. "I think your friend Abe was in the army, did he desert?"

"Kinda, they thought he was a spy and locked him up... I sorta set him free," Zach said.

"You did? He might have been a spy, but for which side?" Matthew asked.

"They had it all screwed up and didn't know what to do with him. Then the Rebs attacked Frederick and we ran off together when everyone was busy."

Matthew laughed. "That was clever, and so here you are. Where are you going?"

"California, my father went off to the Gold Rush and came back when I was five. I know a lot about what he saw, thought I might see it for myself," Zach said.

"I'm supposed to go back to St. Louis once we get to Oregon, but I sure hate the idea of makin this trip again. Maybe I'll do some running away myself," Matthew said. "We'll see."

Zach shared all this with Abe as they lay under the wagon that night, weapons at the ready. Joshua Bennett woke Abe in the middle of the night for his guard shift, and Zach slept on. It was quiet out, the sky filled with stars and the moonlight bright as ever. That only cast dark shadows under the distant trees and each shape looked like an Indian.

These were good people, Abe thought, as he leaned back against a wagon wheel. The train consisted of farmers, factory workers and former dock workers. They had a teacher from New Jersey and a blacksmith from Connecticut, a variety of people heading west who would put their talents to good use. What could a couple of boys contribute... ? And then Abe sat up.

Tomorrow... tomorrow was the twentieth of August, he would be seventeen. If anyone found out there would be a fuss, the last thing he wanted. But he had to remind Zach; he had to share everything with the boy. Yes, he would say something in the morning, but only if the boy promised to keep it quiet.

His mother would know it was his birthday, and suddenly all those stars in the sky seemed to overwhelm him. He was almost a thousand miles away from her, and he despaired of ever seeing her again. She used to take him out in the yard late at night and gaze up at the stars; it would always be something they shared.

"No one can look at all those stars and say we're alone, Abe," She used to say. "All the people who've come before us gazed at stars and the ones who will come after will look up at them in wonder. God gave us those tiny lights in the sky so we would never feel alone. It's like a million eyes gazing down on us, and all of them belong to God."

He didn't understand her thoughts back then, but maybe he did now. For no matter how far apart they were, both stood under the watchful eye of God. She had a strong sense of religion; he'd lost touch with those feelings. The death of so many around him had pushed the feelings away, Charlie would understand.

But having seen the bodies piled up only made him sure his brother had not survived; the best were always the first to go. The war would end soon, so many things pointed that way. The Yankees would win; all he had to do was look around to confirm that.

Out here the north had men sitting in forts protecting the settlers from Indian attack. The Confederacy was inducting little boys and old men, and even then they didn't have enough muskets to go around. A foolish war started by politicians who ought to know better, but those men were safely out of rifle range.

And once the war ended there would be a flood heading west, Walking Horse was right on that point. The Indians were in their last days of glory, for soon the troops would be freed to suppress them where they lived. Walking Horse might be gone by then and Abe wondered where a wise voice speaking for the Indians would come from then.

A night filled with thoughts gave way to a glaring sunrise and another hot day on the trail. The trees and grass along the river was starting to disappear. Men were sent with axes to cut down trees and saw them into eight foot sections which were then slung under the wagons. The further west they went the fewer the trees which meant no firewood.

Fires were needed for cooking and security, their only source of light at night. Rollins said they would reach Fort Laramie this week, and then the journey would get tougher. Out beyond the rolling hills lay the dry flats where even the river ran only as a trickle. But first they had to get there.

For hundreds of miles the trail had been strewn with useless items cast off by the wagon trains. Furniture was usually the first thing to go and a man could fill a curio shop with the items that might be picked up, but no one touched a thing.

They rolled past the occasional dead ox carcass stripped to the bone by scavengers, horns bleached by the sun. A broken wagon wheel, missing the iron hoop which would have been salvaged. But then they would come across a burnt out wagon pushed to the side, and sometimes little wooden crosses where the occupants had been buried.

Rollins had warned them all that Indians, bad food and water, even floods would claim the lives of settlers, but he said that the largest single cause of death was stupidity.

"You ride with that musket in your lap all day and sooner or later you might be the one who pulls the trigger, shooting your neighbor, or even your wife. You'll have time to prime your weapons. Don't ride with your rifles cocked, and for goodness sake never jump off a wagon with a rifle in your hand."

They began to see Indian sign again. Abe figured the braves would try one more attack before they came under the protection of the fort, but they never got the chance. He was lingering at the back when the train suddenly came to a stop and he heard cheering.

Down the trail rode a company of U.S. cavalry, at least two dozen men from Fort Laramie. The captain raised his hat in salute as the troopers rode up and Rollins stepped out to greet him. Within the hour they were circled and the women set about making supper for all the men and their guests.

The Pawnee were a serious threat as were the Cheyenne in this area, but Captain Lewis had ridden out from the fort because the previous wagon train had been severely attacked with great loss of life. He spoke quietly with Rollins and they looked at the map together.

The troopers set up their camp close to the river and then came inside the circle to enjoy a home cooked meal. All the women did themselves up proud, a meal to remember, especially when Molly produced a cake for Abe's birthday.

Zach had no present to give him and so he opened up his violin case. The sound of that instrument brought everyone to a halt and they gathered round. Many of these people had been exposed to the classical music Zach knew, and out here on the prairie it seemed especially poignant. There was applause when Zach finished, and then the ladies insisted on more. Mr. Mason pulled out his guitar and played some tunes, but then he had to stop as he had guard duty.

Abe just about figured Zach would tell everyone, but the company seemed to enjoy a chance to celebrate, if only for a little while. Rollins shook his hand and then looked at the faces gathered around.

"We have a change of route I'm afraid, folks. We're not going to Fort Laramie. The government has decided the trail there is too dangerous so we're shifting south. Tomorrow we'll cross the Platte and head southwest to Julesburg, that's in Colorado in case you don't know. But I figure it won't add more than a week to our journey and it sure will be a lot safer."

There was a general discussion about crossing the river and Rollins picked a group of men to find them a safe place to ford. At most the water here was waist high, but they had to find a spot where the river bottom was solid, quicksand being so prevalent in these parts.

Abe could only groan at the further delay, but after that encounter with the Pawnee he understood. There was safety in numbers and with forty gun toting men in this train they stood a better chance of reaching the end of the trail. But it would still be late in the season, which had to be taken into account.

The land around the Platte was filled with large areas of alkali where the dust that kicked up coated everything it touched. Rollins said it got worse further west, but now they were crossing the river and the topography changed. Prior to their crossing they had hunted in the low bushy land and found abundant antelope. Now within days the brush and the trees fell away leaving them surrounded with grass.

The grasslands brought them a new food source... buffalo. The first small herd they encountered gave up two of the beasts which fell to their guns; it was enough meat for three days. But then they encountered vast herds, buffalo so numerous that Rollins cautioned them not to make but the smallest of sounds as they rolled by. A stampede would devastate them all.

Zach and Matthew spent some time riding out ahead of the train, viewing the buffalo herds grazing quietly on the vast plain of grass.

"Can you see why the Indian worships these beasts?" Matthew asked.

"Other than a vast source of meat I don't understand," Zach said.

"The animal provides everything a man needs to survive out here in the wild. The fur covered hide for warmth, the meat to eat, the bones make tools and provide decoration, but that's not all. Can't you feel the great strength and energy in that herd? The beasts are capable of great destruction if aroused. The Indians see this creature as the center of the Great Spirit's blessing."

"You would make a fine Indian," Zach said.

"I would like that, but it won't work. I think what's happening to them is terrible, but they have no idea what they're up against so they fight." Matthew stared out at the buffalo herd. "I think we'll end up killing them off."

"The Indians?" Zach said.

"And the buffalo... when one dies so will the other."

The trail to Julesburg was about two hundred miles long and took them eleven precious days to complete. They had kept moving, knowing that this was Indian country and that only luck would keep them from being attacked. But finally they reached the goal and camped outside the town for several days to rest the animals.

Rollins ordered them to fill their water barrels to the brim; the hill infested grass lands west of Julesburg were also known to be dry. The buffalo seemed to survive out there, traveling in a perpetual cloud of dust which made them easy to locate. But that dust also attracted the Indians, it was only a matter of time before they discovered the slow moving wagons.

After a week of mindless travel they came upon a small trading post and restocked the small items they needed. Here they also rejoined the south branch of the Platte River and would soon cross back over to the north bank. It seemed necessary to keep the river between them and the Indians whenever they could.

Abe was beginning to think of their journey in weeks not days. The Platte was a muddy mess of quicksand and so when they reached the Cache Le Poudre River they were stunned by the clear cold water. The members of the train were all for resting here, but Rollins knew the dangers still existed. They made an early day of it and many of the men went fishing for the trout that seemed to be swarming in the water.

News of what lay ahead had always come to them from the occasional cavalry patrol or east bound freight wagons. So this is how they came to hear of the Cooper Creek Massacre a week after it happened. The sad details spoke of six wagons that were attacked by a Sioux party that had come down from the Dakota Territory. Sixteen settlers and their children, the teamster said. The army was out in force to catch the braves.

Everyone was somber after hearing that, Cooper Creek lay in their path. They made their way up into the hills beyond the river and immediately saw a band of Indians in the distance. Rollins judged them to be a traveling party, there were women and children walking, and the horses were dragging their possessions.

Entering the narrow passes that would bring them back into the plains beyond Laramie was nerve wracking. Oxen were slow pulling up the steep grades and it took them all day to traverse an area that could have hidden a large Indian war party. The hills were so steep that Rollins finally called a halt when they reached the summit.

In the morning a new difficulty arose. The wagons were heavy and the downward slope incredibly steep for almost three miles. All the wagons had axle brakes, but the weight often fell on the shoulders of the poor beasts at the front. Once a wagon started down there was no stopping it and those who were walking did well to stay away from the wheels.

The Laramie Plains were dry and dusty, the clouds of dry powder rising in the air and choking both man and beast. They reached the Big Laramie River which hardly gave credence to the name, it was a small muddy stream, but it was water for the animals. Without these small tokens of water the plains would be impassible for the week it took them to make the journey across this flat land.

The evidence of the Indian's handiwork at Cooper Creek was muted, and as Rollins rode ahead he saw it first and detoured them around it from a distance. They camped on the far side of the waterway and for the first time they could see the mountains rising in the distance. The snow capped peaks were an allure after the dry torturous plains, but they were an obstacle to be overcome as well.

They crossed the foothills and several small streams running with cold clear water, but still the mountains loomed ominously in the distance. The going was rough for man and beast but within a few days they all seemed to perk up in the fresh cold air.

The Continental Divide lay ahead, a steep difficult grade that would take them days to cross. Rollins ordered a stop and they sat for two days to rest the animals, the people were grateful too. The entrance to the mountains here was covered in volcanic rock and pine trees, a strange sight after all the grassy slopes in the flat lands behind them.

But once rested the train moved on, ever so slowly on the grade, camping early every day until they reached the first summit. Whereas it had taken them three days to go up, it was only one coming down into the river valley and they camped that night by the banks of the North Platte. Tomorrow they would have to cross it.

The river crossing was fraught with danger and long ropes were strung out to pull and assist the oxen. Everyone was exhausted when the chore was accomplished; it had been a long week. Rollins declared that the following day being the Lord's they would rest up because Monday would be a hard day of work.

Ahead lay Bridger Pass, a gruesome climb and one they had best be prepared for. But Sunday was a time for fishing and running about for the children. It had not always been convenient to keep from moving the train on Sunday and many of the settlers had complained. In their safe little communities of the east it had been easy to be idle on a Sunday. Rollins had been mindful of the Indian problem knowing full well that if they kept moving it would take them beyond danger much quicker.

Abe and Zach had been tireless workers and now that the threat of Indian attack was diminished by the mountains they went out exploring. Mindful of where the others were they climbed a spur of the mountain and found a small grove of pines that overlooked the valley. Here they could be alone to do the things that had been missing from their lives this past month.

Sleeping under a wagon afforded little privacy with guards walking the perimeter and they had managed little time alone. The air was cool and fresh, the passion was hot and languorous. That first kiss was a thousand miles in the past; the kisses today spoke of the future.

It was not long before they both lay back with satisfaction, pleased at the results of their efforts.

"I don't think love could get any grander," Abe said as he lay back, suddenly wishing he had a cigar to enjoy.

"Oh it might," Zach said. "I think Matthew knows we're in love."

"What?" Abe said, sitting up with a concerned look. What had Zach done now?

"I haven't said anything; I see that look on your face. No, he's just a keen observer of people. I think if he did know he'd keep our secret."

"You cannot discuss this with him," Abe said.

"Didn't say I would, but if he did know it would be all right, I assure you," Zach said.

"You don't think he'd be critical of what we just did? Love is one thing but the sex... why would he understand?"

"He's the odd one, that's why. That mark on his face has been cause for ridicule ever since he was a small one. It's made him independent; you should hear what he has to say about the Indians. So he looks at people differently and we're friends. I don't think he'd risk the friendship because I love you."

Abe sighed. "Your friendship is going to end soon as we head off to California."

"I don't think so... I think he's going to ask me if he can come along."

"What? He's too young, Rollins will kill us both if Matthew tries to leave... are you sure?" Abe asked.

"Pretty sure, but he'll have to ask us first."

"Zach, we can't take him... he's not our responsibility."

"I agree, but if we leave and he runs away to follow us what will you do?"

"We don't have time for this nonsense... I don't have time to take him back," Abe said.

"Exactly... and he knows that."

"I'll think about it."

Monday was day of preparation for Bridger Pass and the long hard road beyond. The shoes of the oxen were checked and replaced as needed. Women washed clothes and prepared food that could be eaten on the road. No one really knew what lay ahead; they only knew it would be a trial.

They went through the pass and camped on the western slope, more mountains looming not too far away. The downgrade was sharp and the train spread out for a mile to avoid collisions. The wind up here was fearsome and it picked up the dry alkali dust from the road and swirled it around their heads like a cyclone.

The wagons reached a small grove of trees and stopped for the night, but they were away again at dawn, the slope reaching ever upwards. The mind grew numb as the day went on and the wind seemed to pick up once again as a storm approached. Rollins circled the wagons and pulled the stock inside.

It was no use hiding from the onslaught of wind and dust, until finally the rains beat the ground and turned it all to mush. They had a wet and miserable night ahead, and then all hell broke loose. The Indians had been hiding in the trees upslope and began their attack in the wildest part of the storm.

Their first maneuver was to pull a wagon aside and charge the oxen and horses. Men and women cried out in warning and Abe pulled Zack back against the wagon as a few gunshots mingled with the storm. The Indians knew that their arrows would be useless, but they had brought only muskets and loading one in this wind was almost impossible.

Darkness and dust made the whole battle a surreal landscape between lightning flashes. If the Indians got to the stock or killed them then the wagons would be stranded. Abe and Zack grabbed their rifles and set about killing the attackers.

A scream and out of the darkness would come a half naked Indian with a knife, Abe would turn and blast away with his Spencer. Over and over he sought out targets and heard Zach doing the same behind him. When the rifle ran out of ammunition Abe drew his pistol.

All around them in the storm there were blasts of gunfire and Abe knew it wasn't the Indians; they would have no time to reload. But there were a dozen or more repeating rifles in the train, and twice as many pistols. Abe was close to the toppled wagon, the gate by which the Indians hoped to remove the stock. But any Indian that showed in the opening was fired upon, and there was soon a pile of bodies blocking the way.

The noise and fury of the storm continued, and the Indians seemed to be everywhere. Abe heard screams as the women fought alongside their men. A large Indian appeared beside the Mason's wagon and he had an arm around young Beth's neck, dragging her towards the darkness outside the circle. She was screaming but Abe couldn't shoot, he was afraid of hitting her.

But just then Matthew stepped out from behind the wagon, pushed his pistol up to the Indian's head and blew a hole clean thru his skull. Beth was dragged down when he fell and Matthew picked her up, carrying her back to her mother. It was the bravest thing Abe had ever seen.

The battle had lasted an hour, maybe two, Abe thought, but in reality it was only a short while. The Indians were overwhelmed by the gunfire and slowly melted away into the night. Rollins bellowed for everyone to cease fire and the only sound left was the crack of lightning and the pounding of the rain.

They had four men wounded and some of the stock had been taken. Rollins took eight men and chased the Indians in an attempt to recover the oxen. Abe and Zach crawled into the Bennett's wagon and reloaded. A few moments after they began the flap was pulled back and Matthew climbed in with his pistol.

"Figured I'd find you here," The boy said.

"You're wounded, there's blood all over you" Zach said.

"No, it's from one of those crazy Indians, this is his blood splatter."

"I saw what you did... that was brave. Where did they come from? I didn't see any of them when we pulled in," Abe said.

"Pawnee, they're among the sneakiest," Matthew said. "I didn't think they ranged this far west."

"I thought they roamed the plains," Abe said.

"I imagine the military pressure is pushing them further west." Matthew expertly reloaded his Colt; Abe didn't even know he owned one. But he finished in short order and slid it back into the holster. Rollins returned with four of the missing oxen, they would await the dawn to seek out the others.

But the Indians, thunderstorms and steep slope of the mountains did little to prepare them for the trials ahead. They reached the valley that held Bitter Creek and were forced to follow the unpalatable waters west. There was little feed or water for the animals, and what they did find was horribly foul. They forged ahead and on the fourth day they began to lose animals. Some of the oxen were sick from the water, for others it was the dust and heat. By the time they finally reached the Green River they had lost a dozen of the animals.

The lush green fields that surrounded the river were like a heavenly vision and they drove the teams right into the middle of one long field and set the oxen to grazing. Everyone walked right into the river in their clothes, thrilling in the cold clear liquid as it washed away the dust and grime from the trail.

Abe sat on the bank in his wet clothes and stared up at the sky. One obstacle was behind them, they were now in the western territories. It was here the decision would have to be made. They could either stay with the train and seek a life among these settlers and the thousands of others in Oregon, or turn south, following the trail to California.

The Gold Rush of '49 and all the subsequent explorations since had carved out several routes to the ocean, they would have to choose one and stick to it. This was not a decision he could make alone, Zach would have his say. The train was circled for protection and the animals set out to graze under guard. This was still Indian country, the Shoshone held the land around them.

As expected Rollins declared they would stay and rest, preparing themselves for the next leg of the journey towards Fort Bridger. It was to him that Abe went for the answers to a variety of questions and Rollins sat down to see what they could figure out.

"I sure would like to see you boys stay with us, you more than pull your weight when it comes to fighting and helping the others along. But having said that I know you have your hearts set on California."

Rollins went to his wagon and pulled out an old piece of animal skin. He unrolled it on the top of a trunk for them to see. Abe and Zach moved in, as did Matthew who was ever curious about their intentions. Abe was mindful of Zach's warning; Matthew had a gleam in his eye every time they said the word California.

"I got this rough map from Jim Bridger about twenty years ago. I won't give it to you but you can make a copy if you so desire. I was just a young man then on my first trip west and Bridger had just established his trading post. To my mind he was a giant of a man, one of the original mountain men who explored these trails.

"But he said the information on this map came down to him from those who found their way through the mountains to California, and he said the Sierra is a dangerous place. This shows the way Kit Carson and his men travelled west and the surest way to find that pass to the other side. Yes, you had best copy this down," Rollins said.

They talked for over an hour and Abe knew that the decision had been made. They would follow the trail south to the Great Salt Lake and pick up the Humboldt River; on the map it was called Mary's River. Across the barrens of Utah this was one of the few sources of water they would find. And then they would be in the Nevada and even that would disappear until they hit Carson City.

The trail looked bleak, but thousands had gone that way before them, Abe was sure they could do it. Every possible source of water was marked, as were the dangers in some of those watering holes. Bad water could kill both man and beast; they would have to be careful.

Rollins was a cautious man and they took his advice. In Salt Lake City they should purchase a wagon, a small one if they could and the mules to pull it. They didn't have many possessions but the wagon was for survival supplies. Feed for the animals, water barrels and food for the deserts. It all made sense, but Abe knew Rollins was quietly trying to convince them to stay on.

Abe, Zach and Matthew rode north along the river a few days later to scout out the crossings. Some trains rafted their wagons across, but Rollins was leery of losing any wagons or people at this late stage of the journey. The Mormon Ferry was the most popular, although the Mormons were no longer running it. The small trail down to the river was filled with wagons and Abe knew they would have to get in line.

They rode back and told Rollins the ferry was running, three dollars a wagon to cross. The train hitched up and moved the five miles to the crossing. This valley had been a welcome respite from the barren dust ridden trail, but Oregon beckoned.

The trail to Fort Bridger took four days and their excitement dimmed upon leaving the river and facing the alkali riddled hills once again. It was as if the whole landscape in this part of the country was poisoned. But they had water now and the promise of better conditions ahead.

They reached Bridger, viewing the ruins of the log cabins that made up the post before moving into the shadow of the nearby hills. There was trader set up nearby but the army was no longer stationed here, their closest post being north up by Bear Lake. But it was here that the trail split, with Oregon to the north and Salt Lake to the south. This is where Abe and Zach would leave the train and everyone knew it by now.

They camped near a small plain of grass and a fresh pool of spring fed water in the late afternoon. The campfire that evening was a mixture of sad parting and best wishes for the trip ahead. Zach was encouraged to play his violin and Robert Mason played his guitar. Matthew sat at the edge of the fire with Beth beside him, but he kept looking at Abe. The boy had said nothing about his plans, but Abe could tell he was thinking.

The camp became quiet as families returned to their wagons and settled in for the evening, it was then that Matthew approached Zach, and Abe took them all outside the circle.

"I want to go with you," Matthew said rather abruptly.

Abe put his hand on the boy's shoulder and they walked over to sit by the spring.

"I would consider taking you except your uncle would kill me," Abe said. "He might understand your urge but he can't go home and tell your Ma that you ran off to California."

"She'll get over it; I almost think she expects me to do something like this. She wasn't married to my father so I guess she's wilder than I am."

"Matthew, this isn't a decision a boy can make alone," Zach said.

"You ran off from your mother, I don't see that this is any different," Matthew said. "I'm able to take care of myself, I won't be a bother."

"I know you've been thinking about this for weeks," Abe said. "Does your Uncle Tom know what's on your mind?"

"No... I don't know what he'd say."

"You owe him the honest truth. He has the responsibility for all these people, and that includes you," Abe said.

"Come with me... help me ask him," Matthew said.

"I don't know if I can make a difference."

"Please... "

Zach sighed. "We can ask, but I don't think he'll agree."

Rollins was sitting with his musket beside the fire. "Hello, boys... you all set for the morning?"

"Matthew wants to come with us," Abe said.

Rollins nodded. "I know... I've seen it in his eyes. I'm of two minds on this issue. First his Momma won't understand it one bit which means I have to face her wrath when I get back. Of course the trail is a dangerous place and if the boy had been kilt by some Indian she would be mad as hell too.

"Second, I figure she sent him along cause he was raising hell at home, just itching to get on with his life. Good or bad I can't say, but running off to California sure will scratch that big ole itch, won't it? Now I figure I owe Matthew something for the way he's been so helpful on the trail. You can go, boy, just don't do anything foolish."

Matthew was overjoyed, and then he paused. "I don't have any weapons."

"You wear my pistol mighty fine and you know how to use it, it's yours. And I think Frank Burke has an old musket he'll sell you cheap. Abe here will have to take on the responsibility of feedin you. You go get your stuff packed; I'll go talk to Frank about the musket."

Zach climbed in the wagon with Matthew and Abe followed Rollins across the circle to the Burke wagon.

"Things are changing out here," Rollins said. "Pretty soon that damned war will be over and they'll have that railroad runnin coast to coast. You get the chance, put the boy on the train and send him home to visit his momma; I'll wire you the money. I take it you're headed for San Francisco, the boy don't do well around a lot of strangers cause of the mark on his face.

"He darn near killed a boy back in St. Louis because the fool wouldn't let it go. Maybe he's not so sensitive about it now, but that remains to be seen. I think you'll help him grow up some too. Now don't you go tellin him tales behind my back, but I run off when I was just a boy. Left my daddy's farm and went all the way to Philadelphia just to see the big city. I learned some things about myself before I went home. I figure that's what he needs."

Rollins got a big smile on his face. "It don't matter to me if you're a Reb, I kinda figured you was when we first met. I understand why you left, the South is gonna be payin for this foolishness the next fifty years. Not sure I'll enjoy back east much anymore myself, look me up in Oregon if you need somethin."

Matthew laid out his bedroll under the wagon with them that night, in his mind he was already gone from the wagon train. Zach gave Abe a smile as they lay down. It was just as they had discussed, there were three of them bound for California, but only two of them were in love.

Finding the time to share that feeling just became a little harder Abe realized, at some point Matthew would have to be told. It was hardly kind to drag the boy out in the middle of nowhere and then tell him, but that's about what this amounted to. Abe had no idea how to reveal that secret, maybe Zach would.

They were already reaching towards the end of September; there would be snow in the Sierra Mountains by next month. Tomorrow they would rise and head south to Salt Lake City. Matthew would make a worthy companion, Zach liked him. Abe knew Matthew was hardly a boy any more, he fought like a man. The way he figured it, the odds on them making it to California unscathed just went up.