From the West to the West : $b Across the plains to OregonDuniway, Abigail Scott
General
From the West to the West : $b Across the plains to Oregon
Duniway, Abigail Scott
Oregon -- Fiction; Overland journeys to the Pacific -- Fiction; Women pioneers -- Fiction
“April 7. The ague has broken out among our teamsters. We stopped
to-night at a farmhouse, where suspicious women treated us like so many
thieves. The whole family were barefoot, and lacked everything but
numbers. Mother says that starvation has aroused their cupidity, and we
mustn’t mind their suspicious airs. They had no feed for sale for the
stock, and no supplies to sell for our table; but there were plenty of
guns and dogs,—the latter a thieving lot,—from which we shall be glad to
escape when we again see morning. Weather and roads no better.
“April 8. Mother quite ill again; but the skies are clear, and she
insists on moving forward.
“April 11. No food for man or beast to be had for love or money. We must
move onward, sick or well.
“April 12. A better-settled region. The scenery is often fine.
Pussy-willows peep at us from marshy edges, and birds are singing in
the budding treetops. Sick folks no better. Bought a liberal supply of
corn for the stock, and a lot of butter, eggs, and chickens for the rest
of us, so we have a feast in prospect. Camped on the edge of a pretty
little village, on a nice green grass-plat. Daddie took us girls to a
prayer-meeting. The good people eyed us askance. Evidently they thought
us freaks. Certainly our slat sunbonnets and soiled linsey-woolsey
dresses were not reassuring.”
* * * * *
The next day, at nightfall, the party reached Quincy, on the Mississippi,
and camped on a flat bit of upland outside of the city’s limits, where
many other wayfarers, like themselves, had halted and encamped.
“Did you notice Scotty?” asked Marjorie, approaching Jean, who sat on a
wagon-tongue, trying to think of something out of the ordinary to jot in
her journal.
“What’s he up to now?”
“He’s been preening his feathers like a turkey-gobbler for the last
half-hour. Guess our pretty widow and her aristocratic mamma have
caught up with our train. Just watch him! See how the ex-scientist,
ex-statesman, ex-orator, and now ex-almost-anything is making a fool of
himself!”
“All people, of both sexes, get a spell of the simples, sooner or later,”
laughed Jean. “Daddie says that when the system is in the right condition
to catch it, one gets it bad.”
“Guess I’ll ride out and look over the town a little, Annie,” said the
Captain to his wife after the family had retired for the night. “I want
to look out a little for our Scotty. He seems to need a guardian.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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