By 1841, word was spreading across America describing the wonders of the West. Many adventurous souls on the eastern portion of America and as far as Europe decided it was an opportunity to start a new life; to grasp a new chance for many that had lost all in the War Between the States. For the lawless, it was a way to avoid legal prosecution for a multitude of crimes. Confederate soldiers who felt persecuted by the North after their surrender were stripped of belongings and not allowed to carry firearms. Some were unable to wash the excitement and violence of war from their lives, and looked to the wide-open towns of the West to carry on. In the West any man willing to stand on his own two feet and fight for what he felt was right could receive respect.
Land was available in abundance and there for the taking. This wasn’t just cheap worthless ground that grew nothing but weeds. It was prime real estate, grass as far as the eyes could see, land that would make a future for a man wanting a producing farm, or large areas of open ground for cattle. It was all there and waiting. On top of all this, there came the cry of “Gold!” being discovered in California. Many began to worry that this bonanza would be gobbled up by the masses that were already on the trail before they could get there. People sold their homes, farms and businesses and left families behind. They bought large Calistoga wagons and filled them with their life’s possessions or what they had reduced down to their life’s possessions. Some built hidden compartments into their wagons to carry the small fortunes they took with them to build that new future.
It was a rare time in American history when you had the rich and the poor, the honest and dishonest, the lovers and haters: all traveling together down the same trail to a new life.
The wagons stretched out as far as the eyes could see. Ray drove Richard’s wagon with Laurie riding in the box next to him. She spent most of her time sitting backwards staring down at Richard’s sleeping face. From the way Laurie looked at him Ray could tell Richard’s days as a bachelor were numbered. She might as well have placed a ring in that man’s nose because he was good as hers.
John was driving a wagon directly behind Richard’s and Larry was driving one behind John. They kept their horses tied to the back of the wagons instead of with the remuda. You never knew when you might need a fast horse and an even quicker gun hand.
The front of the train must have been miles ahead of them and each wagon followed closely behind the other. There was safety in numbers and a straggler became easy pickings for outlaws and Indians.
As Ray stared at the back-end of the wagon ahead he began to laugh at the thought of Mr. Rip being hauled out of that shit hole. Ray reckoned it would take him several hours before he woke up and could get himself untied- Ray didn’t tie him all that tight. And then several more hours to wait for a familiar face that he could trust to keep his mouth shut. The train had pulled out without any commotion, so his plan must have worked.
Ray chuckled to himself again and thought, "I guess it wouldn’t be a familiar face as much as maybe… a voice."
They were now a good twenty miles out of town and he hoped that Rip would never want to see him again or have anyone in town ever get wind of what happened.
A bump in the road brought Ray back from his thoughts and sharpened his focus on the wagon ahead of him. To his left about a hundred yards out he spotted a lone man riding parallel to the train.
“Hey, Laurie, can you make out who that rider might be?”
Laurie covered her eyes from the sun and squinted in the rider’s direction. “I’ve seen him in town before oh, I know" she said, her face clearing with recognition, "That’s the man who shot that fella’ who was trying to get a bead on us. We sure were lucky when he showed up.”
As Ray watched him riding up on the ridge he couldn’t shake a bad feeling that crawled down his spine into his belly.
“Be careful of him, Laurie,” Ray warned. “I don’t like the way he carries himself. He looks like a man who earns his keep by using his guns.”
“How would you know what one of those men would look like? You’ve been lost out in the woods of Wisconsin all your life,” smiled Laurie.
"Even up in those woods we had gun slicks passing through. Foster, the man that used to hire men like that when things weren’t going his way. I wonder if Samantha sent him after the three of us," thought Ray out loud.
“Oh Ray, you’re getting road crazy and after only twenty miles. In a hundred miles you’ll be seeing Indians behind every rock,” said Laurie as she shook her head.
“Maybe you’re right, Laurie.”
“That you’re getting road crazy?”
“No, that in a hundred miles I’ll be seeing Indians behind every rock. I sure hope not.”
“Ray, a man sometimes can be too cautious.”
“I never saw that written on anyone’s tombstone.”
Laurie stared off across the rolling hills for a moment and then without turning back to Ray asked softly, “Did you kill him?”
“Kill who, Laurie?”
“Mr. Rip. I knew that was where you were headed last night. Did you kill him?”
“No,” Ray responded, with a hint of mirth in his voice. “Let’s just say I secured him for awhile so we could have a nice quiet departure from town.”
Laurie turned and stared at Ray’s face to see if he was lying to her.
“Okay Laurie,” He said, quickly, not wanting her to worry. “I tied him up and threw him down into the outhouse pit. Are you happy now?”
When Laurie burst into peals of laughter, shaking and clutching her stomach, Ray had to hold her in the seat to keep her from falling off the wagon. Her light green eyes sparkled with gaiety.
The first day’s travel ended without incident, which seemed unusual to Ray since just about every day for the last several months seemed to have thrown a life or death situation at him. The train broke up into five assigned groups with people, horses, dogs, dinner fires and insects all on the inside of the wagon circle. Ray’s small group sat around their warm fire next to Richard’s wagon. They’d made Richard a bedroll under the wagon so he could lie there and be in on their conversations. He was able to sit up and walk a little, but was still unsteady on his feet.
The camp was physically and emotionally exhausted that first night but their hopes were high. Most of these people were going on an adventure: moving their families to a new life and a new world, with none of them knowing, or at least choosing not to dwell upon, the hardships that faced them. It was going to be a very long and dangerous trek to the west. Many would give up and stop along the way. Building themselves cabins out in the middle of nowhere, only to find the loneliness unbearable. Many would lose loved ones to disease, injury, arrows, bullets, and if lucky, old age. The ones who did make it clear to California would be the cream of the crop. They would be tough, resilient, strong and intelligent, quick and able to make impossible decisions at a moment’s notice, and willing and able to see them through.