Chapter 35

Monday, March 27, 1848

Ed: Day 8 of the Boston to St Joseph trip

We made over thirty miles today through relatively level country. We could see hills on either side of us, off in the distance, but none of them intruded on our route.

We managed to ride close enough today to keep up a conversation. Ted is an interesting guy. He lived on a ranch all of his life, until his parents died a couple of years ago. Since then he has worked on building a railroad and he trapped one winter in Vermont.

"How do you feel about free Negroes?" I asked him.

"Well, I haven't thought about them much at all. I don't believe in slavery, so I guess I believe in them being free. I just haven't ever been around any of them."

"Well, you're going to have to get used to it if you come with us," Cassie said. "Ed lied to you about me being his sister. Kate and I are both his wives. We have two more wives in Missouri and one of them is a Negro."

Ted looked dumbfounded for a minute, then he said, "Well, I guess I can get used to that. Like I said, I've just never been around them. As long as there aren't any Indians, I'll be okay."

"What do you have against Indians?" Kate asked.

"My pa always said that the only good Indian was a dead Indian. I think he was right."

"Why do you think that?" Cassie asked.

"Indians kill white people. Besides that they lie and cheat and steal. Most of them are a bunch of drunks. I just don't like them."

"I grew up next door to a family where the mother was an Indian and the father was a white man," Katie said. "They were probably the most honest family in the area."

"Their honesty came from their father then," Ted said. "Everyone knows that an Indian will steal anything they can get their hands on."

"Well, Ted," I said. "I've found over the years that what everyone knows is usually wrong. I haven't been around Indians much, but we met a family a couple of weeks ago who I thought were the salt of the earth."

"But, Ed, look at how many white people they've killed in the last couple of hundred years. Surely that makes them bad people."

"What would you have done if outsiders had invaded your father's ranch? Would you have said, 'you are welcome to take our land," or would you have fought to keep it? The Indians are just fighting to keep what has been theirs for thousands of years."

"I guess you're right about that, but I just don't want to be around them."

.oO~Oo. Ted's attitude about Indians worried me a little. I talked with Kate and Cassie about it that evening. "I think it's mostly just talk," Katie said. "We hear things from our parents and we tend to repeat them. It's just like those guys who were saying bad things about the Irish. They don't know anything first hand, they're just repeating what they've heard."

"I hope you're right, love," I said. "I think a lot of it depends on just how strongly the parents felt about something. If they just mouthed off a lot, the child will probably get over it. If they taught the child to really hate someone, then it will carry on to the next generation as well."

Sam: Day 22 of the Dayton to St Joseph trip

What a glorious day for traveling! The weather had warmed up a lot and I was able to ride for a while without even wearing a coat. Of course Mina and Maddy scolded me for it. I didn't care though. It was too nice of a day to worry about a little scolding.

We even started skirting around the south side of a group of hills today, which broke up the monotony. By late afternoon, we were climbing some low hills, which I figure are skirting the Mississippi River.

After super, we all gathered around a central campfire and listened to the drovers and drivers tell true stories and tall tales, all of which they swore were true.

Tuesday, March 28, 1848

Ed: Day 9 of the Boston to St Joseph trip

We got a nice early start this morning and made good time. By noon we could see hills or mountains off to the west of us. We didn't pursue the conversation with Ted about Indians this morning. I guess all of us thought it would be better just to let it lie.

The proprietor at the inn where we spent the night said we were in New York, but we were close enough to Pennsylvania that you could almost throw a rock into it. He was an affable man and he went on to tell us about the mountains to the west of us. He said they weren't nearly as hard to get through as the Catskills.

I figured we'd made over thirty miles for the day, so I was satisfied. We all turned in early so we could get an early start in the morning.

Sam: Day 23 of the Dayton to St Joseph trip

We made it to the banks of the Mississippi River today. We set up camp on the eastern shore and Andy, Stu, and Rawhide scouted up and down the bank until they found the ford the farmer had told us about. Andy rode across the river on his horse, but when he came back he was shaking his head.

"The water's just too deep," he told me. "We might get across, but we'd lose some cattle and maybe a wagon or two in the process."

"What else can we do?" I asked.

"One of the men says there's a ferry that goes across at Quincy, which is just a couple of miles north of here. The problem is, it'll cost a fortune to get everything across."

"We still have quite a bit of money, Andy. I'd say we have close to two thousand dollars. We can afford to pay to get them across."

"Okay, I'll ride on up there this evening and talk to the ferry man. I'll see what kind of deal we can work out."

"Remember, if we saved just one wagon, it'd probably pay for getting everything across."

.oO~Oo. Andy didn't get back until after dark. When he did get back, Mina brought him a plate of food while he told us what he'd found out. "The ferry man is a hard headed cuss," he said. "He started out wanting five dollars a wagon and ten cents a head for the cattle and horses."

"We could have paid that, Andy," I said.

"Yeah, but it just didn't seem right. I got him down to three dollars a wagon and five cents a head. It's still gonna cost us around sixty-five dollars to cross. It'll take all day to do it too."

"That's okay. At least we'll know everything is safe," I told him.

Wednesday, March 29, 1848

Ed: Day 10 of the Boston to St Joseph trip

We watched the mountains to the west of us all day as we approached them. They weren't huge, but the ground between us and them was very flat. We found an inn close to the base of the mountains and spent the night there.

Sam: Day 24 of the Dayton to St Joseph trip

Andy sent some men with about a third of the cattle on ahead this morning. He ate a quick breakfast and took off after them. When we got to the ferry, they were just starting to take their second load of cattle across.

The ferry was large enough it would hold three wagons with their teams, or about fifty head of cattle. After the first third of the cattle were across, they started hauling wagons. Andy was wrong about it taking all day to get across. When the ferry man called it quits for the day, there were still about a hundred head of cattle on the eastern shore.

I gave Stu the money to pay the ferry man and he and three more cowhands stayed with the cattle that had been left behind. Stu said we should take off at our regular time in the morning and they'd catch up with us.

Thursday, March 30, 1848

Ed: Day 11 of the Boston to St Joseph trip

We had a nice breakfast and took off before the sun was even up. Within a few miles we hit the mountains again. Luckily we were following a road. It was curvy, but we still made a lot better time than we would have going cross country.

We stopped briefly for lunch and ate the sandwiches the serving girl at the inn we stayed at last night had packed for us. By evening, we had reached the summit. Unfortunately, although we were on a road, it was not a stage coach route, so we didn't find an ordinary to stay at.

Cassie and Kate made us a very acceptable supper, which we ate with relish. We bundled into our tents early.

Sam: Day 25 of the Dayton to St Joseph trip

We followed Stu's advice and took off at first light. We traveled very slowly though and took a long nooning as they call it in this time. We let the cattle graze for a bit before we hit the road again.

We only made around twelve miles for the day and we camped just before we got into the hills on the western side of the Mississippi. Stu caught up with us with the rest of the cattle right after we made camp.

"You know, Andy, it was worth what it cost to get everything across safely," I said.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about what you said the other night about that. If we'd have lost a wagon, we'd have lost not only the cost of the wagon, but also the cost of everything in it. Depending on what was in it, that could be a lot."

"And if we'd lost the team that was pulling it, the cost of the oxen would have run it up really high."

We all went off to our beds feeling very contented.

Friday, March 31, 1848

Ed: Day 12 of the Boston to St Joseph trip

Breakfast was a little sparse this morning as we were running a little low on supplies. The women fried up thick slices of bacon and made johnny cake. They made enough so we could have enough for lunch as well.

Today we were going mostly downhill. We worked our way going down through a valley that led us to the southwest for much of the day, then in the middle of the afternoon, we hit a much wider valley that led off to the northwest. By the time we were ready to call it a day we had reached a little town they called Portsville.

The general store was still open when we got into town, so we went in and stocked up on food supplies. Afterwards, we went looking for a tavern or an inn.

We found a nice tavern that had a room for us and the proprietor said it was okay for Ted to sleep in the hayloft. They had a beef and mutton stew that was to die for with biscuits that were as good as Sam's.

Sam: Day 26 of the Dayton to St Joseph trip

I had been looking at the maps we had brought with us from the twenty-first century. They are excellent maps, but I'm not an excellent map reader. Sure, I knew what all the little contour lines meant, but it was difficult for me to look at the lines on the map and picture what the terrain was actually going to look like.

Today was no exception. I knew from the map that we were going back into hilly country, but I expected it to be a lot worse than what it turned out to be. The hills we were going through hardly slowed us down at all.

We made our normal seventeen or eighteen miles for the day and camped along a nice creek with plenty of water and plenty of grass.

Saturday, April 1, 1848

Ed: Day 13 of the Boston to St Joseph trip

We had only been traveling for a couple of hours this morning, when we came onto a major east-west road. It was going from the northeast to the southwest and it seemed like the perfect way for us to continue.