“All right,” Joshua said. “Ready? Go!”
As one they yanked down on the log, letting their feet come off the ground to put their full weight into it. For a moment nothing happened; then there was a creak, followed by a deep sucking sound, and the wheels started to rise.
“Go, Solomon!” Nathan and Joshua shouted it together.
Again the whip cracked sharply. “Giddap! Go, boys! Go!”
The animals lunged forward, hitting the yokes hard. Hooves dug in and clawed. On the wagon, the human beasts of burden heaved forward as well, gasping and grunting, feet fighting for a grip.
“Higher!” Nathan bellowed. “It’s working.”
And it was. Getting the rear wheels four or five inches out of the mud seemed to be the key. The wagon lurched forward. But as it did so, the axle slid off the pole and sunk down again.
“Quick,” Joshua yelled. “Get it under there!”
They shoved the log fulcrum forward, reset the pole, then yanked down hard again. There was a loud ripping sound, then a sharp snap. The pole jerked violently downward, throwing all four men off their balance. For one instant, Joshua thought the pole had snapped, but as he caught himself, he saw the back wheels splay outward and the wagon box drop sharply.
Gasping, he went down on one knee, and then groaned at what he saw. It wasn’t the pole, it was the rear axle. The thick wooden shaft had cracked like an egg.
As the others bent down to look, Nathan sank down beside him, panting heavily. Joshua looked at him. “Now might be a good time to consider becoming a cussing man,” he said softly.
Mary Ann looked around the circle of faces, seeing the firelight flickering in their eyes and across the tightness of their faces. It’s another Steed family council, she thought, only one unlike anything they had ever held before. This was no comfortable parlor filled with soft lamplight. They sat on logs and stumps or on blankets folded on the ground. And when it was done, there would be no apple pie and cold milk from the icehouse. There would be no sitting on the porch and talking lazily as the children played night games around them. In fact, there were no children present. The babies were asleep. The younger children were getting a bedtime story or saying their prayers. The older ones were serving as parents while the adults met together and tried to determine how to deal with their crisis.
She could not remember a family council where the problem before them had left the family more grim than what she could see now. They were exhausted. They were terribly discouraged. It was not a good combination. It had been a day where even the strongest had expended the last of their strength and where even the weakest had been required to give all that they had. But there would be no rest until decisions were made. This was not something that could wait until a better day, or be set aside for some future discussion.
After the axle had broken, which was around noon, they had unhitched Nathan’s pair of oxen and brought them up to join Solomon’s two pair to see if they could drag the crippled vehicle off the road and out of the way of those coming behind. That was not enough either. Finally, two additional yoke were borrowed from a man who came up to see what was happening. He was a brother from Yelrome and recognized Joshua and Nathan as being part of the rescue party that had brought their families to Nauvoo after the burning of the Morley Settlement. Five yoke of oxen—ten animals—and even then they barely managed to get the wagon free.
They unloaded Solomon’s wagon and crammed the supplies into the other wagons; then Derek and Matthew took the family on to make camp. The only encouraging thing for the day was that Brigham Young’s party had finally caught up with the advance scouting party and the President had called an early halt to the day’s march. It had been a punishing day on equipment, animals, and men, and many more besides the Steeds were stranded along the road. That was good news for the Steeds, for the camp was no more than a mile and a half from the broken wagon.
Nathan, Solomon, and Joshua stayed behind and went to work. They removed the rear wheels, put two small logs beneath the back of the wagon to serve as skids, and dragged it back to camp using Solomon’s oxen. Once that was done, Derek and Matthew rode back to the stand of timber and hewed down a foot-thick hickory tree. Tomorrow they would spend the day hewing out another axle and shaping it so it could take the wheels. That would, they hoped, solve the immediate problem. But they had a greater problem to solve now. They simply did not have sufficient animal power to pull in this kind of terrain.
Mary Ann tipped her head back, feeling the weariness in her own body, the kind that goes so deep that it feels as if it were something received at birth. Above, the sky was clear. Ah, she thought. Now, there was something to lift the soul. The stars seemed like they were laid on a fabric of black silk that was so close that if she chose to she could reach up and pluck one for each of the children. She smiled sadly to herself at that thought. There probably wasn’t much beside that—a star straight from heaven—that could lighten their mood right now.
“We’ve got to have more oxen,” Solomon Garrett declared. “Especially for that big wagon. Two yoke are just not enough to pull that much weight.”
There was no response. There was no need for one. Everyone knew what the problem was. Originally there had been three yoke of oxen for Solomon’s wagon and two yoke for Nathan’s wagon. Then had come that terrible day when the man had spit tobacco juice into the eyes of one of Nathan’s animals while they were ferrying across the river. Thankfully, there had not been room enough on the ferry for Nathan to keep his two yoke attached to his wagon. They had sent one across on the other ferry with Solomon’s rig. Had it not been so, instead of two oxen going over the side into the river, there would have been four.
Mary Ann shook her head quickly, pushing away the memories. Oxen had not been the only thing lost that day.
Then Joshua said what they all were thinking. “What? Do you think we can walk to the nearest livery stable and pick up an extra span or two?”
No wonder they looked so grim. Solomon was right and Joshua was right, and the two truths were totally incompatible. They desperately needed oxen and there were no oxen to be had. The silence stretched on as they considered how few were their options. Finally, Nathan raised his head. “We’ve got to trade the horses.”
Derek nodded. His wagon, the lightest of the three, was pulled by the draft horses. They were fine animals but no match for the solid pulling power of a pair of oxen. Much more expensive than oxen, they were faster by half again, but they did not adjust well to the dry prairie grass as the oxen did. There would be no new grass for another few weeks, maybe longer, and without that, the horses would languish. Horses also needed grain to keep up their strength. And grain was something in desperately short supply, even for the humans.
“What about the mules?” Matthew asked. His team was a strong set of nearly black mules bought a few months before from a breeder in Missouri. More ill-tempered than the horses, they were nevertheless a better choice. They were better able to adapt to poor water, especially alkali water, and had better endurance. But they still did not have that steady, day-in-and-day-out strength and endurance of the oxen.
Nathan turned to Joshua. He was the expert. He had driven wagons behind about every combination of teams through his freighting years. Joshua looked around the circle, then shook his head. “If we had a choice, yes, no question about it. I’d get two span of oxen for each wagon, three for the big one, four if we could get them. In our wildest dreams, it would be wonderful to have a spare yoke or two. And under normal circumstances, we could make that trade and come out to the good, maybe buy some more wheat or sugar.”
They had all become experts in animal power. Before all this started, Mary Ann might not have understood a word of what Joshua was saying. But now they all knew the relative value of various draft animals. A good workhorse could go for as much as two hundred dollars. Mules went for fifty to ninety dollars a head, less than half of what a horse cost. But one could buy a yoke of oxen, meaning a pair that worked together well, for fifty to sixty-five dollars. That lesser cost, plus the fact that oxen were the proven animal for a long haul across the Great Plains, had quickly exhausted the market for them. That’s why the Steeds had one team of horses and one team of mules. It was not a matter of choice. And the loss of that yoke at the river had been a serious blow.
“I’m not talking about going back to Nauvoo,” Nathan said. “I don’t think there’s much hope there. I’m talking about maybe going to some of the local settlements.”
Joshua gave a low hoot. “You’ll pay top dollar, even if you are lucky enough to find oxen out here. These people know how desperate we are.”
“We’ve got a thousand miles of country to cross,” Nathan answered quietly. “We’ve at least got to try.”
Joshua shrugged. He wasn’t trying to be negative and Nathan was right. But he knew that it was such a long shot that there was not even sense in getting one’s hopes up.
Now Derek spoke. “It’s more likely some of these farmers out here would have horses. Even if we could find another team of mules, maybe we could make do. We’ll—”
Joshua blew out his breath. “Mules hate water. They’ll give you fits every time you have to ford a stream deeper than a foot or two. And turn your back on them for one second, they’re gone back to Missouri.”
Nathan straightened and rubbed his eyes. “We may have to go through some of our stuff, see what we can spare to trade. Probably some of the furniture. That can be pretty scarce out here on the prairie.”
Jessica responded immediately. “I’ve got that drop-leaf table Solomon bought me.”
Jenny looked at Matthew, sudden tears in her eyes. “And I’ve got the cedar chest Matthew made me when Betsy Jo was born. We can put the linens that are in it in a sack.”
One by one they enumerated things that could be spared. These were not things that were surplus, Mary Ann noted sadly, or at least they hadn’t thought so even as late as this morning. Now . . .
When they were done, Nathan nodded. “That should give us a start. I’d like to suggest that Matthew, Derek, and Solomon stay here and help fix the wagon. That’s not going to be an easy job. I’ll take one wagon and the animals and see what I can do. Joshua, what if you took the saddle horse and rode south to see if you might purchase some grain with what little cash we have.”
“Fine.”
“How far back will you go, Nathan?” Matthew asked.
“Only as far as I have to.”
Matthew nodded. “I saw Brigham just before supper. He’s going to stay here for another day. Bishop Miller’s found some good places to camp, but we weren’t the only ones with problems today. There are at least three other broken axles, two broken wagon tongues, several collapsed wheels. He’ll take another day to give time to fix the wagons.”
“Good,” Nathan said, pleased at that news. “That means I won’t get too far behind you.”
“You’re not going as far as to Nauvoo, are you?” Joshua asked.
Nathan had already thought that whole thing through, but he hadn’t come to any conclusion. And he wasn’t ready to discuss it with Joshua yet. “I hope not,” he finally answered. And in one sense that was true. They were now a good two-day trip—four, if you counted both ways—from Nauvoo on these roads. And the family would have to wait for his return because he’d have four of the draft animals with him.
Joshua stared moodily into the fire, thinking of Caroline and the children, debating about whether he might go back too. “Nauvoo’s no answer. You know that every family there is scrambling for wagons and teams and supplies. You’re better off to try the Iowa settlements—Farmington and the likes. Stay along the Des Moines River. There’ll be more people.” He thought for a moment. “Or maybe I ought to take the horses and mules south with me.”
Now it was Nathan who hooted. “Into Missouri? Wouldn’t they love to get their hands on some Mormon horseflesh.”
“I’m not a Mormon,” Joshua grunted irritably. “I can handle them.”
“You’re traveling with Mormons,” Nathan retorted. “They won’t even stop to ask. No, the animals go with me.”
Mary Ann stood suddenly. “Then it’s settled,” she said. There was a moment of silence; then all nodded. Her eyes softened and she smiled at them now. “I would like to have a family prayer. I think we need to ask for the Lord’s help.”
“Yes, Mama,” Rebecca said fervently. “We could certainly use that.”
“How are you doing, Lydia?”
She was on her side, her swollen stomach cradled by a pillow. With a soft grunt, she rolled partially onto her back and looked at her husband. Not that she could see much. The inside of the tent was nearly pitch-black. “I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Maybe it’s better if I don’t go tomorrow and—”
“Nathan, I’m fine. I’m not just being brave and noble. Sure, I get tired, but I’m feeling good. And the children are wonderful.”
“I know. It pleases me to see how Emily watches out for you.”
“And Josh too.”
“Oh, I know, but he’s always been responsible.”
“He’s learned it from you.”
He groped for her hand in the darkness, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it softly. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. It’s better that you go now than to have you do it later when my time is closer.”
He sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“We’ll be fine.”
He turned onto his side so he was facing her, still holding her hand against his face. “Lydia?”
“Yes?”
“I think I may go to Nauvoo.”
Her head came up slightly. “But you told Joshua that you didn’t think you were.”
“I know.” He began to use her finger to trace patterns on his cheek, barely aware of what he was doing. “The other night, when I was talking to Mother out by the fire, she said something that I can’t get out of my mind.”
“What?”
Speaking softly so as not to awaken the children, he told her quickly about the dream and his mother’s final admonition to him. “She was quite forceful about it, Lydia. She said that we had to get Caroline and the children to join us. She made me promise to do something about it.”