Brides Bound for Oregon: Colette and Sera – Book 1

Within those first few weeks of leaving Independence, they never saw another soul, other than the dust from the smaller wagon train traveling just one day ahead of them.  They were happy days, with the traveling easy over gentle terrain, good weather, a warm sun on their backs, although the wind could be changeable.

Charity and Pike took turns driving the team, with Abe mostly walking at the head of the oxen, occasionally poking them gently with a long stick to encourage them on.  Colette and Sera walked beside the wagon, although Abe often suggested that the two women might like to take a turn driving the team as well.  With the traveling slow and easy enough, he thought they should learn in case he needed them, despite neither woman having driven a team before.

The following day, Sera sat beside Charity and as Charity handed her the reins and showed her how to do it, Sera realized Abe was right, it was easy enough.  The oxen plodded along at such a slow pace, she hardly had to hold the reins at all. 

She didn’t mind the oxen so much.  Most days they were happy to walk on following the wagon in front, with Abe and Pike walking alongside them.  But they could be smelly and ornery, so she preferred to walk rather than sit up on the buckboard behind them.  She also preferred those days when Buck let the wagons spread out, rather than follow on behind each other, in an attempt to stop the dust rising and getting into everything. 

The dust became something Sera dreaded, because it hung in the air like a cloud over them and got into everyone’s eyes and mouths, through their hair and clothes.  Most folks tied kerchiefs around their faces to protect their mouths, while mothers placed small children inside the wagons to protect them against the worst of it.

Other days it was humid and when the breeze dropped and the air became hot and still and muggy, Sera found these days to be just as wearisome as the dust.  It wore people out along with the animals and by the time they camped at the end of each day, it was a relief to finally settle. 

They headed northwest alongside the Platte River before veering slightly north where the river split to become the North Platte, then traveling on before stopping to cross the wide South Platte River, where banks of mud interspersed with rivulets and pools of shallow water, which made it easy to cross at this time of year.  Then they continued on, following the well-worn trail along the south bank of the North Platte River. 

Early one afternoon, just over a month out from Independence, everyone began to notice the unusually dark clouds gathering on the distant horizon.  Those clouds brought a chill with them, and Sera climbed up into the wagon to look for a shawl as the heat of the day turned cooler.  As she wrapped the shawl about her shoulders and went to leave the wagon, she heard voices outside.  She peered out of the back opening and saw three men riding past.  She recognized Buck, Ansel and their scout, Burley.

“Don’t like the feeling I’m getting,” she heard Burley say, as he squinted toward the horizon where those dark clouds were fast becoming an upsurge of suds billowing higher into darkening skies.  “This weather has changed too quick for my liking.  I reckon we’re in for some heavy rain.”

“Sure feels like a rainstorm on its way,” replied Buck, before turning to Burley and Ansel.  “You sure we can reach camp before it hits?”

Burley nodded.  “We’ve only got another hour or so of riding ahead of us.  We’ll get there if you push everyone a little harder, but we won’t avoid this one.” 

He glanced back at Buck.  “Unless you want to park up now?”

“Ain’t no shelter here,” Buck said, shaking his head.  “We’ll be caught in the open if we stay here.  I reckon we should keep going and reach that river before it hits.  At least there’s some trees there for the animals.”

Sera glanced back towards those dark clouds and although she wasn’t too worried about a rainstorm, it worried her that these three men clearly were.  But she couldn’t know the devastation a storm could do to a wagon train out here in the wild.  Ansel, Buck and Burley had seen wagons and their contents caught up in strong winds and barrages of rain lie wrecked within a few short hours.  If unlucky, a wagon could tip over, its contents scattered for miles, destroying provisions and belongings without any hope of retrieving them.  Sera moved to climb down from the wagon, just as a sudden bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, followed almost instantly by a crack of thunder.  She saw Buck turn to Ansel and Burley, his voice hard.

*************

Brides Bound for Oregon: Lottie, Avril and Esme – Book 2

The wagons continued to head westbound through a sea of golden grasses swaying gently in the breeze which seemed to stretch endlessly to the mountains in the distance.  It was a serene landscape, dotted with wildflowers and the occasional stand of trees. The sky above was a clear, unblemished blue, giving no hint of the inferno that would soon tear through this tranquil scene.

Having to cross the Snake River on their way from Fort Hall to Oregon City, the wagon train scouts, Patch and Cecil along with Eugene searched up and down the banks for a suitable crossing.  Raymond knew of one place at least an hour’s travel further west which was shallow and the riverbed flat and solid with shale and gravel, giving firm footing for the hauling animals and wagon wheels.  So, he sent the scouts out to reconnoiter and to check that the crossing was still safe.

Because of a change during the river flow over previous months, they discovered that it would only take the wagons single file and considerably spaced out, meaning it would take some time for all the wagons to negotiate the crossing safely.

Cecil volunteered to cross the river on his horse to check it out.  The others followed him into the water when they realized that it was quite sound underfoot, with a wide enough solid passage to get the wagons across to the other side, so long as the hauling animals kept the wheels moving.

Turning back at the farther bank after checking the bank for an easy way out of the river, they rode abreast back through the water, the horses enjoying the cooling waters.

Upon the scouts returning and reporting their findings to Raymond, the wagon train made haste to the river crossing.  Once they arrived it was well after midday, and Raymond and Billy immediately began filtering the wagons into the river via the crossing.  It was all going according to plan, and the wagons which had crossed moved on quickly from the river.  They formed their nightly circle about half a mile further northwest with the first wagon’s driver delegated by Raymond to be in charge of that group, supervising and organizing each wagon as it arrived.

Several miles away to the southeast, a huge herd of bison with their hulking frames and shaggy coats were grazing peacefully, gradually making their way toward the river, unaware of impending doom.

Unbeknownst to the travelers, the herd with many hundreds of animals was slowly making its way towards the Snake River to drink their fill at sunset and take advantage of the fresh grazing on the other side.  The bison herd and the wagon train were on a slow-moving collision course to meet at the river if the wagons did not all cross before the bison arrived.

Cecil sidled up to Raymond while they sat on their horses quietly controlling the wagons negotiating the sloping entrance to cross the river.

“Hey Raymond.  Look up over there to the southeast, that sky is getting kinda black right on the horizon, can you see it!”  As he spoke, a barely audible rumble of thunder and a fork of lightning struck out through the darkening clouds away in the distance.

“Lordy,” Raymond swore, “it’s a thunderstorm, but it’s not gonna affect us.  We’ll be long gone by the time it does, several hours I reckon, and it could even be travelling east away from here.” 

Cecil mused, rubbing his hand over his forehead.  “The wind hasn’t got up yet either.  We’ll push the wagons along a bit faster, just in case we get caught in the storm.  We done that once already on this trip, and sure don’t want it to happen again!”

Unfortunately, Raymond and the other scouts did not know that a spark from a lightning strike in that distant storm had ignited the dry grass on the prairie, and within moments, a fire had roared to life.  Fueled by the rising winds and the tinder dry grasses, it spread rapidly, building into a wall of flame consuming everything in its path.  The crackling of burning grass was soon joined by the cries of birds and the frantic scurrying of smaller creatures fleeing the oncoming devastation.  The bison, initially oblivious to the danger, soon sensed the rising heat and the scent of smoke, and their instincts kicked into overdrive.

Panic spread throughout the herd.  The bison, usually casual and composed, now began to gallop with a frenzied urgency.  Mothers called out to their calves, urging them to keep up, while the bulls bellowed, trying to maintain some semblance of order.  The ground trembled under the weight of hundreds of bison hooves pounding the earth in unison faster and faster.  Dust rose in thick clouds, mingling with the smoke, as the herd surged forward, driven by the primal urge to survive.

The once beautiful prairie was now a scene of chaos.  Flames licked at the edges of the stampede, the ashes flung into the air and scorching the fur of the fleeing bison.  The sounds of the stampede were a cacophony of pounding hooves, bellowing calls, and the relentless roar of the fire.  Each step was a battle, the bison navigating through the maze of burning grass and falling ash as it rained down on them.

In the midst of all the chaos, the bison relied on their instincts and the leadership of the matriarchs. These wise, old females led the charge, their experience guiding them to safety.  The herd followed, their trust in the matriarchs unwavering.  They headed towards the river, a natural barrier that the fire could not cross.  Along the way, they encountered obstacles – fallen trees, burning shrubs, and the occasional predator taking advantage of the confusion – but the herd pressed on, their determination unyielding.

Back at Snake River, Patch galloped up to Raymond and Cecil, drawing his horse up short and pointing out to the right.  His Native Indian intuition had alerted him to much more than they others realized.  “See on horizon!  Smoke!  Prairie fire – once it starts nothing stops it!”

Raymond shielded his eyes with his hand and glared out at the horizon and saw what Patch had seen, plumes of smoke rising into the sky, getting higher and wider by the minute, and now he could even smell the smoke on the breeze.

Patch leapt off his horse and put his head down and an ear against the sandy ground.  “I hear like thunder in ground, it is bison, a big herd stampeding this way, frightened by fire!  They are coming straight for the river.  They know it’s safe in water!”

“How many more wagons to get across the river?”  Yelled Raymond to Eugene, suddenly unnerved with developments. 

“About a dozen,” exclaimed Eugene, his horse twirling in panic.  “Eugene, Cecil, you keep them crossing, don’t let any of them panic – just the same speed as we have been going.  Tell the men in the remaining last wagons to load their rifles and if we can’t turn the herd, then they’ll have to open fire into the air as the herd comes closer to the wagons.  We just need to divert them, so they go into the river a bit further down than where we are!” 

Eugene and Cecil replied with a whoop and kicked their horses into a gallop towards the wagons to alert them of the trouble.  If the herd tried to cross where the wagons were fording, then it would be chaos, and damage to wagons and loss of life would be inevitable, let alone panicking hauling animals adding to the melee.

“Patch, Billy.  Come with me.  We’ll meet the herd head on and fire our rifles to turn them even a few degrees to the northeast away from us.”  Pulling their rifles from the sheaths, they loaded them quickly.

“Ready?”  Raymond yelled at the other two still loading their guns, and they answered in unison, indicating that they were holding their loaded rifles above their heads.  “Ready, let’s go!”

Whirling their excited horses around, the three galloped off heading towards the oncoming herd, waving their rifles in the air.