A Cry in the Wilderness
Copyright© 2025 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 5
January 23rd, 1860
The pre-dawn air bit sharp and cold as Angus, Will, and Elijah Hall prepared for their journey to Mansfield. Three sturdy oxen stood hitched and ready, their breath forming white clouds in the frigid morning air. The beasts would pull the prairie schooners back home, but for now they followed docilely behind the mounted men.
“Gonna be a long two an’ a half days,” Angus said, adjusting his heavy wool coat. “But we’s finally gonna see them wagons that’ll carry us west.”
Will patted his horse’s neck, the animal dancing slightly in the cold. “Pa, ya think them Spencer repeatin’ rifles be as good as Henry Jacob claims?”
“Better, son. I done ma homework on ‘em. Seven shots without reloadin’, an’ they don’t jam near as much as them Henry .44s. Worth ever penny at forty dollars each.”
Elijah pulled his thin coat tighter around himself. “I surely do appreciate what ya’s doin’ fer ma family, Angus. Buyin’ us proper weapons an’ winter gear ... I don’t know how I’ll ever repay ya.”
“Elijah, we’s gonna be travelin’ together fer months. Ain’t no sense in ya bein’ under-armed or under-dressed. We’s all in this together now.”
As they rode north through Butler’s quiet streets, Sarah stood on the front porch watching until the three figures disappeared into the gray dawn. Behind her, Tessa and Rebekah pressed against the windows, their breath fogging the glass.
“Think they’ll be alright, Ma?” Tessa asked.
“Yur pa’s made this trip a dozen times fer business. They’ll be fine, sweetie. We’s got our own work ta do while they’s gone.”
— ∞ —
The journey to Mansfield proved as slow as anticipated. The oxen plodded along at their steady pace, forcing the men to match their leisurely gait. By midday, they reached Bellville, where the Clear Fork Mohican River provided fresh water for the animals.
“This here’s what they call ‘nooning,’” Angus explained to Elijah as they dismounted near the river’s edge. “Gotta rest the oxen regular-like, let ‘em graze an’ drink their fill.”
The village of Bellville bustled with activity despite the cold. A stagecoach had recently arrived, and passengers stretched their legs while fresh horses were hitched. The local tavern sent out the inviting aroma of hot stew and fresh bread.
“Mighty temptin’,” Will said, nodding toward the tavern.
“We’ll eat when we reach Mansfield,” Angus replied. “Want ta get them wagons inspected while we still got daylight tomorrow.”
They spent an hour resting, during which Elijah asked detailed questions about the trail ahead. “What’s the biggest dangers we’s gonna face, Angus?”
“Weather, mostly. Spring storms, river crossings, maybe some sickness. The Indians been moved out ta reservations, so that ain’t much worry no more. Biggest problem’s gonna be keepin’ the wagons from breakin’ down an’ the livestock healthy.”
As they prepared to continue, a grizzled teamster approached them. “Y’all headin’ west come spring?”
“That’s right,” Angus nodded.
“Take some advice from an old trail hand - don’t overload them wagons. I seen more families fail from carryin’ too much than from carryin’ too little. Prairie’s littered with furniture folks thought they couldn’t live without.”
“Much obliged fer the counsel,” Angus replied, tipping his hat.
They reached Lexington as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. The village was smaller than Bellville but still offered supplies and a place to water the animals. By the time they arrived in Mansfield, darkness had fallen and oil lamps flickered in windows throughout the county seat.
The Mansfield Bed & Breakfast sat near the center of town, a two-story frame building with welcoming light spilling from its windows. Mrs. Abernathy, the proprietress, greeted them warmly.
“Welcome, gentlemen! Y’all look like ya been travelin’ hard. We got hot stew, fresh bread, and clean beds waitin’.”
After stabling their horses and oxen at the adjacent livery, the three men gratefully settled into the warm dining room. The stew was thick with beef and vegetables, and the bread was still warm from the oven.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day,” Angus said between spoonfuls. “First stop’s Jedidiah Boone’s smithy ta inspect them wagons. Then we’s headin’ ta Henry Jacob’s store fer the firearms an’ supplies.”
“What about them steamer trunks?” Will asked.
“Ezekiel Hancock already installed ‘em in the wagons. We’ll check that they fit proper an’ ain’t got no defects.”
Elijah looked overwhelmed. “I ain’t never owned a proper rifle before, let alone one ‘o them repeatin’ ones.”
“Don’t ya worry,” Will assured him. “Pa’s gonna teach all of us ta shoot proper once we get home. The women too.”
— ∞ —
Dawn came gray and cold, with the promise of snow in the heavy clouds. After a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and hot coffee, the three men made their way to Jedidiah Boone’s smithy on the outskirts of town.
Boone was a massive man with arms like tree trunks, his leather apron scarred from years of working hot metal. Three prairie schooners sat in his yard, their white canvas tops gleaming even in the dim morning light.
“Mr. McLaughlin!” Boone boomed. “Come ta claim yur wagons, eh? Finest work I ever done, if I say so maself.”
The wagons were indeed impressive. Each measured about ten feet long and four feet wide, with sides that rose nearly three feet high. The canvas tops were stretched taut over hickory bows, creating a tunnel-like interior. The wheels were massive affairs with iron tires, built to withstand the punishment of two thousand miles of rough travel.
“Max cargo capacity’s twenty-five hundred pounds each,” Boone explained as they inspected the first wagon. “Got yur repair kits in the jockey boxes - extra bolts, spare parts, an’ a jack fer fixin’ whatever breaks.”
Will ran his hand along the smooth wood sides. “What kinda wood ya use?”
“Seasoned oak fer the bed, hickory fer the bows. Strongest combination ya can get. Canvas is double-thick an’ treated with linseed oil ta keep the rain out.”
Each wagon had two twenty-five gallon water barrels attached to the sides, along with a shovel and axe strapped to the exterior. A five-gallon cask of wheel grease hung beneath each wagon bed.
“Ezekiel Hancock done good work on them trunks,” Boone continued, showing them inside the first wagon. The flat-top steamer trunk fit perfectly behind the driver’s bench, its cherry wood gleaming with fresh varnish. “One’s cherry, one’s maple, an’ one’s white oak, just like ya ordered.”
Angus opened the cherry trunk, running his hand over the smooth interior. “Perfect fer Sarah’s good things,” he murmured.
They hitched the oxen to the wagons - the beasts accepted their burden with patient resignation. Elijah climbed onto the first wagon’s bench, looking nervous.
“Don’t worry,” Will called out. “Oxen’s smarter than horses. They know their job.”
The small procession made its way through Mansfield’s streets to Henry Jacob’s General Store. The proprietor, a thin man with wire spectacles, greeted them enthusiastically.
“Mr. McLaughlin! Got all yur special orders ready. Come see what I got fer ya.”
Jacob led them to a locked cabinet containing the firearms. The Spencer repeating carbines were beautiful weapons, their walnut stocks polished to a high sheen. The .50 caliber barrels gleamed with gun oil.
“Seven shots fast as ya can work the lever,” Jacob explained, demonstrating the loading mechanism. “Range of twelve hundred yards, though ya probably won’t be shootin’ that far.”
He showed them the Smith & Wesson revolvers - the men’s .44 caliber Model 3s and the ladies’ .22 caliber Model 1s. “These here’s double-action, so ya don’t gotta cock ‘em each time. Just squeeze the trigger.”
Elijah hefted one of the Spencer rifles, marveling at its balance. “I ain’t never held nothin’ so fine.”
“Ya earned it,” Angus said simply.
While Jacob tallied up the ammunition - 4,000 rounds for the Spencer rifles, 4,000 rounds of .44 caliber, and 2,000 rounds of .22 caliber - his assistants loaded the other supplies. The 500-pound safe, already paid for, required four men to lift into the first wagon.
“Now fer the Hall family’s winter gear,” Jacob announced, leading them to the clothing section. Soon they had selected heavy wool coats, waterproof boots, and warm gloves for Elijah, Mildred, and Rebekah.
Sarah’s supply list proved extensive: four 25-pound sacks each of flour, cornmeal, and sugar; four 200-pound barrels of salted pork; six 5-gallon kegs of vinegar; a fire tripod with chains and S-hooks; a spider cast iron frying pan; and two 5-quart Dutch ovens with lids and handles.
“Y’all gonna eat good on the trail,” Jacob commented as his men loaded the final items.
By late afternoon, the three wagons were loaded and ready. The men ate a quick dinner at the hotel, settled their bill, and began the journey home. With the wagons fully loaded, travel was even slower than before, but the oxen pulled steadily through the gathering dusk.
— ∞ —
They reached the Lazy Susan Ranch near three in the morning, exhausted but triumphant. Slim met them at the barn, lantern in hand.
“How’d it go, Boss?”
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