OCR Text |
Show LEE NELSON'S McConklin. "If you want something, some-thing, ask for it, but keep your hands out of my cooking pans!" Without a word, McConklin turned and disappeared into the night. He wasn't used to being scolded by another man's wife. He knew how to maintain a submissive attitude among his own wives, but another man's wife, that was a different dif-ferent matter. And Pat O'Riley. known to be a good fighter, wasn't a man to rile, McConklin retreated. "THANKS," said Caroline to Sarah. "Maybe the old goat will stay away for a few days now." But Caroline had misjudged McConklin. Even as she pushed oxen continued to pull, with Caroline Caro-line pushing from behind. NO ONE figured how fast the wagon would pick up speed once it got over the edge, but Pat suddenly found himself running, the stumbling stumb-ling oxen and wagon coming down upon him with increasing speed. The heavy strap around his waist prevented him from jumping to either side. He had no choice but to run ahead of the oxen and wagon. As Pat galloped into the muddy stream, he misjudged the depth of the water. He fell forward, losing his balance. The oxen could not stop, the speeding wagon pushing them ahead into the stream, over stream and quickly unhitched the oxen. Pat was unconscious when they lifted his head out of the water and unbuckled his harness. Carefully Care-fully they pulled him to dry ground, where they stretched him out on the soft sand. He wasn't breathing, so they rolled rol-led him onto his stomach, the sand sticking to his wet clothes and skin. Both women began pushing against his back with the heels of their hands in an effort to push out the water and get him breathing. Young Pat was sitting a few feet away, wailing mournfully the crisis he didn't understand. SOON SARAH began to wail. 'There was no movement, no breathing, no sign of life. Patrick O'Riley was dead..." the top of Pat. The strap around Pat's waist dragged him beneath the oxen's feet as the wagon ground to a halt in the middle of the muddy stream. Pat was out -of sight, beneath the muddy water. CAROLINE and Sarah raced down the sandy bank into the too. Pat was not responding to the treatment. The back of his neck was swollen and purple. His open eyes were covered with sand. There was no breathing, no movement, move-ment, no sign of life. Patrick O'Riley, the Nauvoo stone mason, was dead. Caroline was at the back of the wagon, pushing. The wagon train had entered a sandy stretch of trail, reported to be six miles long. The sand was loose and deep, the wagons sometimes sinking up to the axles. PAT O'Riley had strapped himself him-self into a makeshift harness in front of the oxen, a big leather strap around his waist, pulling with all his might. Sarah was at his side, carrying little Pat, now almost a year old. Sometimes she nursed the baby as she walked. Pat lost all four of his horses in the Indian raid, while Ebenezer McConklin lost none of his oxen. Bishop Hill ordered McConklin to loan two oxen to O'Riley, but Ebenezer didn't want to share them. IN ADDITION to two saddle horses, he had four oxen, just the right number for pulling his heavy wagon across the plains. He used the two teams together for climbing hills, crossing rivers, and pulling through mud and sand. On level ground he used one team on the wagon, while the other two animals were allowed to graze along behind the wagons with the stock herd. By rotating the teams daily, the oxen remained fresh and strong. He thanked the good Lord that ' none of his oxen had disappeared in the Indian raid. But when Bishop I Hill asked him to loan two of his joxen to Pat, he balked. He couldn't ': afford to give up half his oxen. And he wasn't about to hitch his two , saddle horses up to a wagon. It wasn't his fault that all of O'Riley 's horses had been driven off by Indians. BUT THE strong will of Bishop Hill won out. Ebenezer reluctantly loaned his smallest and weakest oxen to Pat O'Riley. Pat didn't like taking animals from a reluctant giver, giv-er, but Bishop Hill insisted. There was no other way; the wagon train had to continue. The forward progress of the Hill Company was cut in half after the Indian raid. The best draft animals were no longer given frequent days off to wander with the trailing stock herd. They became weary and stubborn. THE SAME tired livestock had to be traded back and forth to pull wagons one at a time across bogs and rivers. And the fall rains continued, con-tinued, making travel more difficult diffi-cult even for those with strong teams and light wagons. Travel habits had to change. Sarah and Caroline no longer rod? in the O'Riley wagon, but walked beside the oxen--except when the going was tough-climbing hills, fording streams, or plowing through mud and sand. Then Caroline Caro-line got behind the wagon and pushed with all her might, as she was doing now. THE RARE October sunshine was unusually warm as the wagon train entered the sand. Caroline noticed as she leaned into the back of the wagon that big drops of sweat dripped from the end of her nose with increasing frequency. Her eyes stung with the salty sweat. Her long blond hair was tied behind her head to keep it out of the way. The perspiration circles under her arms were growing larger lar-ger by the hour. The hem of her, blue and white dress was brown with wet sand, and every time she stepped on the hem she thought how ridiculous it was that women had to wear dresses dres-ses when engaged in hard work of this sort. She wondered what the reaction would be if she changed into a pair of comfortable men's trousers and a loose-fitting shirt. OF COURSE Pat wouldn't mind. She didn't think Bishop Hill would, either, but Ebenezer McConklin would be sur- 'o find a scripture that had something to do with how women were not supposed to look like men. ' But it really didn't matter what Ebenezer and his friends thought. It was hard, dirty work, pushing a wagon through six miles of heavy sand. Trousers and a shirt would be much more comfortable. She would do it the next day, and if Ebenezer didn't like it well, that was his problem. THEN SHE smiled. Maybe some of the other women would follow her lead. Some of the men would, of course, look on the change as a form of rebellion. There would be plenty of heated discussions, followed fol-lowed by change, she thought. The people had had to change in many ways. Caroline thought about the buffalo chips and the children's shoes. Some of the mothers protested when Bishop Hill ordered all children chil-dren under age twelve to go barefooted. barefo-oted. The bishop tried to explain that the children's feet would soon toughen to the trail, that they could walk further, with greater ease, free of heavy leather boots and shoes. BESIDES, the children would need the shoes when cold weather came, and it was senseless wearing them out during warm weather. The bishop's words made sense, but some of the mothers still refused re-fused to let their children run bare-footedgenerally bare-footedgenerally the same mothers who disliked cooking with buffalo chips. Caroline, upon finding Ebenezer McConklin a member of the wagon train hart onnp nut rf fh uav In the wagon, she became aware that a rider approaching from the rear had pulled in his horse to stay even with her. She turned her head to see who it was. Even though her eyes were blurry with sweat, she didn't have any trouble recognizing recogniz-ing Ebenezer McConklin. "A WIFE of mine wouldn't have to push a wagon all day," said McConklin. "A wife of yours would be too brow-beaten to be able to push a wagon all day," thought Caroline. But she didn't say anything, not wanting to get into a discussion with McConklin. "HAD YOU married me, you wouldn't have to do that," he continued. con-tinued. McConklin wasn't one for beating around the bush, thought Caroline. No matter how inappropriate inapprop-riate a comment might be, he said it. "Had I married you," replied Caroline without looking up, "I wouldn't want to push a wagon." It would take him a while to figure that one out, she thought. Apparently Appa-rently McConklin was taken back by her statement, for he turned and rode away without any further comment. IT WAS late in the afternoon when the accident occurred. The sun had disappeared behind dark clouds and the temperature was dropping quickly. The train had managed to get through four or five miles of sand during the course of kJhe day, but progress suddenly be- -wtme very slow as it was-necessary to, cross a series of deep ravines, some with muddy streams running through them. The sand was deeper than usual at the top of the deepest ravine, one through which a healthy stream rushed down to the North Platte River. Pulling out front, Pat dropped drop-ped over the edge of the revine first, fir-st, followed by the oxen. The wagon was still bogged down in axle-deep sand, so Pat and the avoid her former, fiance.' She figured fi-gured he didn't know anythingab-out anythingab-out the manuscript, and she wasn't about to volunteer any information. informa-tion. He had pretty much left her alone, too, at least until the Indian raid. BUT AFTER loaning his oxen to Pat, he began to visit the camp, and Caroline, with increasing frequency. frequen-cy. It was as if the loaning of the oxen put the O'Rileys and Caroline in Ebenezer's debt. And Ebenezer was not a man who missed collecting collect-ing what he figured was due him. Even the ever-patient Sarah had boiled over the previous night when McConklin, without asking, reached into the O'Riley stew pot to fish out a piece of meat. "GIT YOUR dirty fingers out of my stew' she scolded, surprising Pat and Caroline as well as |