The list of supplies she began on the Mirabella was
revised and added to daily. She now had quantities to add to some entries.
Early one morning, while Tim still slept, she took advantage of first light and
sat beside the window reviewing her list.
Glancing at her son, she smiled when she thought
about how well he'd taken to being called Tim. As gently as she could, she tried
to explain what Cooper had said, but Timmy interrupted, "Ma, I been
wantin' to be called Tim since Mr. Jerome started callin' me that. Timmy is a
baby's name, but I was afraid I'd hurt your feelings if I told you not to call me
that anymore."
After their conversation, he informed Sammy that
he wanted to be called Tim, and Sammy responded with, "Then I want to be
called Sam."
Hallie was fearful that Emmett and Lydia would
become offended, but when she explained, they agreed wholeheartedly. Emmett declared,
"Sammy, you are now officially Sam because this journey is going to grow
you up, too."
Hallie returned her thoughts to her rewritten
list.
500 pounds flour
400 pounds smoked bacon
150 pounds lard
120 pounds hardtack
75 pounds sugar
50 pounds coffee
50 pounds rice
50 pounds beans
10 pounds salt
2 pounds tea
5 gallons whiskey
vinegar
dried fruit
dried vegetables
saleratus
parched corn
corn meal (also for packing eggs)
Hallie sighed. This was just the food. Turning to
the next list, she read:
Washtub
Washboard
Flatiron and starch
Soap
Coffee grinder
Coffee pot
Utensils
Skillet
Pots and pans
Dutch oven
Reflector oven
Lanterns
Candles
Tripod
Buckets
Canteens
Water barrels
Sewing supplies
Shovel, pick axe, hammer, hatchet, saw, other
tools
Hallie paused to gaze out the window. The
tedious task of reviewing her lists was forgotten in the beauty of daybreak. Pink
suffused the eastern sky with golden streaks fanning outward like loving
fingers attempting to touch the soil. Imagining the moment she would step onto
her land brought a smile and quiet laughter, and she whispered, "Five more
days and we leave for Oregon."
She lifted her eyes to the pink heavens.
"Tom, I just want you to know Cooper is taking good care of us. He's been
haggling with the merchants and getting the best prices for the best goods. He
doesn't settle for seconds. Sometimes I argue with him over wanting to load the
wagon with more supplies, but he swears overloading is the worst thing we could
do." She paused, glanced at Tim, still snoring, and then back at the painted
sky. "I trust him, Tom."
* * *
Cooper examined the seven oxen. They looked to
be sturdy, well fed, and dependable. He wanted this team but the price being
asked was still too high. Pursing his lips, he eyeballed the stable owner with
a direct stare and the man's return gaze didn't waver. Cooper decided he was an
honest man. "Two hundred and forty-five dollars is still too high. I'll
give you two hundred."
The leather-faced old merchant pulled on a
strand of his gray beard that fanned out over his chest. "Nope. You're too
low. These are some of the finest oxen in Westport. Hell, make that Independence and Westport." He cocked his head at an angle and pulled on his beard
again. "Two hundred and twenty-five dollars. That's with a price break on
the extra ox."
Cooper glanced back at the oxen, walked around
them, felt them again, and grinned when his back was to the old fart. Wiping
the grin off his face, he turned back around and stuck out his hand. "You
strike a mean bargain, Mr. Piper, but I'll pay your price."
After paying half the amount as earnest money,
Cooper made arrangements to pick the oxen up the day they left. He grinned at
his good fortune. So far, the day had yielded oxen and a wagon. The prairie
schooner he'd purchased for one hundred dollars was premium quality and the
seller had thrown in a bucket of grease and spare parts, including spokes and an
axle. The canvas had been well oiled with linseed to make it waterproof and the
wheels were wide, making
revised and added to daily. She now had quantities to add to some entries.
Early one morning, while Tim still slept, she took advantage of first light and
sat beside the window reviewing her list.
Glancing at her son, she smiled when she thought
about how well he'd taken to being called Tim. As gently as she could, she tried
to explain what Cooper had said, but Timmy interrupted, "Ma, I been
wantin' to be called Tim since Mr. Jerome started callin' me that. Timmy is a
baby's name, but I was afraid I'd hurt your feelings if I told you not to call me
that anymore."
After their conversation, he informed Sammy that
he wanted to be called Tim, and Sammy responded with, "Then I want to be
called Sam."
Hallie was fearful that Emmett and Lydia would
become offended, but when she explained, they agreed wholeheartedly. Emmett declared,
"Sammy, you are now officially Sam because this journey is going to grow
you up, too."
Hallie returned her thoughts to her rewritten
list.
500 pounds flour
400 pounds smoked bacon
150 pounds lard
120 pounds hardtack
75 pounds sugar
50 pounds coffee
50 pounds rice
50 pounds beans
10 pounds salt
2 pounds tea
5 gallons whiskey
vinegar
dried fruit
dried vegetables
saleratus
parched corn
corn meal (also for packing eggs)
Hallie sighed. This was just the food. Turning to
the next list, she read:
Washtub
Washboard
Flatiron and starch
Soap
Coffee grinder
Coffee pot
Utensils
Skillet
Pots and pans
Dutch oven
Reflector oven
Lanterns
Candles
Tripod
Buckets
Canteens
Water barrels
Sewing supplies
Shovel, pick axe, hammer, hatchet, saw, other
tools
Hallie paused to gaze out the window. The
tedious task of reviewing her lists was forgotten in the beauty of daybreak. Pink
suffused the eastern sky with golden streaks fanning outward like loving
fingers attempting to touch the soil. Imagining the moment she would step onto
her land brought a smile and quiet laughter, and she whispered, "Five more
days and we leave for Oregon."
She lifted her eyes to the pink heavens.
"Tom, I just want you to know Cooper is taking good care of us. He's been
haggling with the merchants and getting the best prices for the best goods. He
doesn't settle for seconds. Sometimes I argue with him over wanting to load the
wagon with more supplies, but he swears overloading is the worst thing we could
do." She paused, glanced at Tim, still snoring, and then back at the painted
sky. "I trust him, Tom."
* * *
Cooper examined the seven oxen. They looked to
be sturdy, well fed, and dependable. He wanted this team but the price being
asked was still too high. Pursing his lips, he eyeballed the stable owner with
a direct stare and the man's return gaze didn't waver. Cooper decided he was an
honest man. "Two hundred and forty-five dollars is still too high. I'll
give you two hundred."
The leather-faced old merchant pulled on a
strand of his gray beard that fanned out over his chest. "Nope. You're too
low. These are some of the finest oxen in Westport. Hell, make that Independence and Westport." He cocked his head at an angle and pulled on his beard
again. "Two hundred and twenty-five dollars. That's with a price break on
the extra ox."
Cooper glanced back at the oxen, walked around
them, felt them again, and grinned when his back was to the old fart. Wiping
the grin off his face, he turned back around and stuck out his hand. "You
strike a mean bargain, Mr. Piper, but I'll pay your price."
After paying half the amount as earnest money,
Cooper made arrangements to pick the oxen up the day they left. He grinned at
his good fortune. So far, the day had yielded oxen and a wagon. The prairie
schooner he'd purchased for one hundred dollars was premium quality and the
seller had thrown in a bucket of grease and spare parts, including spokes and an
axle. The canvas had been well oiled with linseed to make it waterproof and the
wheels were wide, making
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