A Wagon Trail and One Girl's Tale

Katherine Dunby trudged along beside the wagon just like she had for the last thousand miles or so. The wagon master said they'd only traveled about two hundred miles of the trip to Oregon, but it felt like a thousand to Katherine.

Katherine was the only child of Horace and Genelle Dunby. Katherine's mother had given up hope of having a family, but when she was thirty-five, she thought she might be with child. Katherine was that child, and both her father and mother were overjoyed. They tried to have another child but weren't successful.

Her father owned and was farming about thirty acres near Sedville, Missouri at the time, and his livestock and grain crops had allowed him and his wife to live a comfortable life. Her father wasn't satisfied with comfortable once he had a daughter. He'd dreamed about a big farm in Oregon since the first land grants had been announced in 1843.

The winter of 1861, Katherine turned eighteen and her father made a decision. He'd sell his farm and use the profits to take him, Katherine's mother, and Katherine to Oregon.

A man could get a hundred and sixty acres free and clear in Oregon. If he was married, he'd get a hundred and sixty acres and his wife would get another hundred and sixty acres. All he had to do was build a house and farm the land for five years.

Her father said he couldn't farm that much ground by himself, but when Katherine found a husband, the two of them could expand the farm. He said Katherine was pretty enough it wouldn't take long before she found a man to marry. He also said once she had a couple sons and they were old enough to work, they could handle three hundred and twenty acres.

Katherine didn't care for the way her father seemed to have planned out her life, but she didn't say anything. That wasn't because she planned to be an obedient daughter and do what her father wanted. In addition to her mother's caring nature and quiet manners, Katherine had inherited her father's strong will. She felt no obligation to do something just because that's what her father or anybody else wanted her to do. She didn't say anything because her own plan hadn't worked out very well.

Katherine already had her heart set on Jacob Brown, the son of the Baptist minister in Sedville. They'd grown up seeing each other every Sunday at church and Katherine thought Jacob felt something for her. Jacob's goal was to follow in his father's footsteps and become a preacher. They hadn't had any serious talks about marriage yet, but Katherine was hoping they would as soon as Jacob found a church that needed a preacher.

When Katherine's father told her about going to Oregon, Katherine's heart broke. Her father was taking her away from Jacob, away from a life as a preacher's wife. She didn't start to cry. Grown women didn't cry in front of their fathers. She did cry that night, but did so silently so her parents wouldn't hear her.

The next Sunday, she told Jacob of her father's plans. Jacob didn't seem upset at all. He just wished her well on the journey. Katherine decided then that Jacob wasn't as interested in her as she thought, and maybe going to Oregon would be a good thing. At least she wouldn't have to look at Jacob every Sunday and remember that she'd thought he'd make a good husband.

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Katherine's father had bought a book called "The Prairie Traveler -- A Handbook For Overland Expeditions", written by Randolph B. Marcy, and he studied it every night from November through December of 1861. By January of 1862, he'd made a list of everything they needed to take with them, how much it would cost, and how much it would weigh.

Both were important. Cost was important because Katherine's father wasn't sure how much he would get when he sold the farm and anything they couldn't take with them. The book said he'd need to have some cash money to pay for ferries across rivers and to buy more food and supplies along the way if they were needed.

Weight was important because a horse can only pull it's own weight if in bad country or mountains. The book said the food and supplies should add no more than two thousand pounds to the empty weight of the wagon. Katherine's father's two horses, Jake and Jim, weighed about fifteen hundred pounds each. That meant the total load on the horses couldn't be over three thousand pounds. Jake and Jim could pull that load for about ten hours, but would need some rest stops.

When Katherine's father added up the weights of the food they'd need to take with them, the total came to a little over two thousand pounds. That was too much weight if they wanted to take anything else with them. Katherine's father talked to her mother and finally whittled the weight down to about twelve hundred pounds. They'd have to make do without bread and they couldn't take much in the way of meat, but Katherine's father said the book said he should hunt for meat along the trail. After thinking about hunting, her father added fifty pounds of canned corned beef to his list. That would be their meat if he didn't kill anything.

They also needed clothing, and while clothing didn't weigh much, it was bulky. So were the blankets they'd need for sleeping. Katherine's father estimated the weight would be about fifty pounds. He asked Katherine's mother to begin sewing extra clothes for all of them, and he asked Katherine to start making quilts from her mother's sewing scraps.

Katherine's father was going to sell all his equipment except for his plow. It was a John Deere steel moldboard plow that he'd bought five years earlier. He said he could make everything else he needed to farm with once they got to Oregon, but he needed his plow. The plow weighed just shy of two hundred pounds.

Katherine's mother said she needed at least a pot for stews, a frying pan, a dutch

oven, some spoons, knives, and a spatula, and tableware for the three of them. Katherine's father estimated that would add about fifty pounds.

At her mother's insistence, her father added three kitchen chairs to the list. They weighed only about ten pounds each and like Katherine's mother said, it would be better to have chairs than to sit on the ground.

To complete the list, Katherine's father took a few tools -- a hammer, a saw, an axe, a hatchet, a drawknife, and a sharpening stone -- that he said according to the book he'd probably need. He also added some rope in two different sizes and several pounds of nails.

When Katherine's father added all that up, the total was a little over three thousand pounds. He figured that was about as much as the horses could pull and still stay in good condition. The first part of the trip would be over relatively flat ground, so the pulling would be easier. As the trip progressed, the load would get lighter. The horses wouldn't have to work hard until they got into the mountains and by then, half the food would be gone.

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Katherine's father spent the next month making rough wood boxes to put inside the wagon. Those boxes would hold everything they were taking with them. The boxes were pretty small, but that let them put every thing of one type into its own box so it would be easier to find.

The boxes also had another use. They would be placed on each side of the wagon bed leaving a narrow walkway between them. The wagon bed was ten and a half feet long so on the right side of the wagon, the boxes would make two beds, one for Katherine's mother and one for Katherine. On the left side of the wagon was a bed for Katherine's father in the front. The plow took up the rest of the space in back on the left side.

The last thing Katherine's father built was a cage that hung off the back of the wagon for a rooster and six hens. They would ride to Oregon. Their milk cow, Jess would walk behind the wagon.

The cost of everything was a hundred dollars for the food and twenty dollars for material for extra clothing to replace what they would wear out along the way.

Katherine's father put his farm up for sale on the twenty-seventh of March, 1862. Along with the farm, he sold all his farm equipment and livestock except for his wagon and horses, his milk cow, the chickens, and his plow. In addition, he sold everything in the house, all the furniture and what cooking things Katherine's mother said she could do without. After the sale ended, Katherine's father had a hundred and eighty dollars for the farm, another fifty for all his farming equipment, and another twenty for the rest. After buying their food and clothing, that would leave a hundred dollars for tolls, ferries, and anything they needed along the way.

That Wednesday, they took the wagon to Sedville and bought all the food Katherine's father said they'd take with them. He also bought ten pounds of gunpowder, ten pounds of bird shot, ten pounds of lead for balls for his rifle, and five hundred caps that would fit both the shotgun and the rifle.

Thursday and Friday, they loaded the wagon. It took Katherine's father and two neighbors to load the plow into the wagon, and once it was in place, Katherine's father tied it to the wagon so it wouldn't move around. After the plow was in place, they loaded the boxes that lined each side of the wagon bed. Then, Katherine's mother cut the feather tick from their bed in half to make a mattress on the boxes for her and Katherine's father. Katherine cut down the size of the feather tick on her own bed to fit on her boxes.

Saturday was spent making sure that everything they needed was packed. Sunday was church. After church, the congregation had a potluck dinner to wish them on their way. Katherine and her parents went back to the farm, and this time, slept in the wagon to make sure that was going to work as planned.

On Monday, the third of April, 1862, Katherine's father hitched Jake and Jim to the wagon. He, Katherine's mother, and Katherine took a last look at the farm that had been their home. Then, Katherine's father said it was time to leave. He helped Katherine and her mother into the wagon, then took the seat on the right side, unwrapped the lines from the brake lever, and clucked to Jake and Jim.

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It took three days for Katherine's father to drive their wagon into Independence, Missouri. Those three days were sort of a practice run to determine how well the horses did with the heavy wagon, how cooking had to change once Katherine's mother had to cook over an open fire, and how their beds were going to work out.

Katherine's father was satisfied with the horses, though it was obvious they were working pretty hard. He had to stop and let them rest from time to time. He assumed the other wagons in the wagon train would have to do the same, so he wasn't too worried.

Katherine's mother and Katherine didn't have a lot of trouble with cooking over an open fire because Katherine's mother had learned to cook over the fire in a fireplace. She taught Katherine how things had to be done differently, including how to use the dutch oven she'd brought.

Their beds were the biggest problem of all. Since the bed of the wagon was only three feet wide and there had to be a narrow aisle between the boxes, Katherine's father had built the boxes only fourteen inches wide. That left an aisle about eight inches wide between them. Sleeping on a bed fourteen inches wide was possible, but Katherine discovered that she couldn't roll over during the night or she'd fall off the bed and onto the plow.

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Once they were in Independence, they took a ferry across the river and into Kansas. There, they asked for directions and found the spot where a wagon train was being organized. Clark Mason, the man who was to guide the wagon train, said they were lucky. He said wouldn't take more than fifty wagons with him, and they were the last wagon he'd sign on.

That afternoon, Mr. Mason called a meeting of all the people in the wagon train. He explained what they'd face and how they'd face it, and a lot of things that Katherine's father had read in his book.

"Folks, I'm Clark Mason, and I'm goin' to be your guide to Oregon. This is my third trip, so you don't need to worry about gettin' lost. It'll take us about six months, and those six months will be pretty hard on us and pretty hard on the animals.

"First, we need to get some organization goin'. I'm your guide, but I'm not the leader of the wagon train. That leader will be elected by you. You'll also need to elect a second for him in case he gets laid up for some reason. What they'll do is hold meetings any time there's somethin' that needs to be talked about, like maybe somebody who does somethin' he shouldn't. If'n you're church goin' people you know the Ten Commandments and that's what I'm talkin' about.

"If somebody does somethin' like that, the leader will hold a trial and if you folks find that person guilty you will decide the punishment for that person. I hope that don't happen because we're all goin' to have to work together to get to Oregon, but if it does, don't be bashful about the punishment. I won't let you kill another member of the wagon train, but about any other punishment is all right by me. This is tough country we're goin' to be goin' through, and we don't need no nobody makin' it harder than it's already gonna be.

"Now, because this is goin' to be a tough time, those of you who maybe think you're a little better than the others, jest get that outta your head. You're all different, but every one of you can do something none of the others can. We need all of what you know and can do, an' we need everyone to agree on what gets done.

"One of those things we need to agree on right now is what you're pulling your wagon with. I see some of you plan to use your horses, but I'd recommend against that. Horses need good feed every day to stay in good pullin' condition and we ain't goin' to find any corn fields along the way. Horses also have to stop and rest once in a while. I ain't goin' to stop fifty wagons so a handful of horses can rest. We'll drive for twelve hours every day except for Sunday with a short stop for a noon meal. Sunday, we'll hold a church service if you want, but we'll be on the trail by ten that morning. If you can't keep up, we'll leave you behind.

"I can tell you that horses won't survive that, but oxen will. Oxen can stay in pullin' shape with just grass and we'll have plenty of grass. By now, the grass will be up higher than your head and there'll be more than enough for oxen. Oxen are slower than horses, but we'll be settin' our pace by the oxen anyways. Your horses will do all right on jest grass if'n they ain't pullin' a load. I'll be ridin' a horse, but I'm leadin' two packhorses loaded with horse feed and food for me.

"What I'd say you should do is keep your horses if you want, but go buy some oxen and yokes to hitch 'em. There's a man down by the river who sells oxen and I've done business with him before. He gets twenty dollars for a span -- that's two oxen - and five for a yolk. His oxen are a little green, but they're young and healthy. You'll need six oxen and three yokes. Four oxen will pull as much as four horses and pull it longer. The other two oxen and the extra yoke are your spares because we'll lose a few along the way.

"When we stop for the night, the men will unhitch the animals and drive them and all the loose stock a ways from camp. We'll have to set up a watch all night to keep 'em together and to ward off any wolves or cougars. Jest a man or two walking around will keep 'em away. Once we're in Indian territory, we might lose an ox or a horse to them as well because they won't be afraid of a man. If they get one, jest let 'em go. You shoot an Indian and they're sure to take revenge, and you don't want to have them do that.

"While the men are takin' care of the livestock, you women need to be building fires and starting supper. There won't be much wood around for a while, but there's plenty of buffalo chips. As you walk beside the wagon, you need to pick them up and take them with you so you'll have enough. Put 'em in a burlap sack tied to your wagon. You'll need a couple bushels to cook much of a meal.

"Now, I said you'd be walkin' and I'll bet most of you do after the first day. This ain't no road we're goin' to be followin'. What there is, is the ruts of the wagons that went before us and the ground is rough. You'll jar your teeth out ridin' on a wagon seat. We ain't goin' to be goin' very fast, so you can keep up easy by walkin'. Leave your shoes in your wagon for when you get to Oregon though. If you wear 'em in this country, they'll wear through in a month. Feet don't never wear out.

"We'll be leavin' at daylight Monday next. That'll give you time to get your oxen, drive 'em back here, and ask them in the group who has oxen how to hitch 'em and drive 'em. I don't wait on nobody, so be ready."

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As Katherine trudged along on her bare feet and picking up flat slabs of dried buffalo manure, she remembered those first days. Her father had taken Mr. Mason at his word, and had bought six oxen and three yokes for seventy-five dollars. Her father was now worried that he didn't have enough money left for tolls and ferries.

Katherine wasn't as worried about that as she was about the young men who seemed to have found her. There were five men about her age in the wagon train. She guessed what her father had said was true. She was pretty enough to attract most of the young men in the wagon train, but that hadn't turned out to be a good thing. Two were really odd, one was pretty pathetic, one seemed to be a nice man but he didn't know much about anything. The young man in the wagon ahead of the Dunby wagon was scary.

James Conroy was the first, and came up to her one day after they'd crossed the Big Blue River and were waiting for the rest of the wagon train to cross. He was traveling to Oregon with his mother and father. Katherine thought it odd that a man who was twenty years old wouldn't be going by himself. Most young women continued to live with their parents until they married, but young men were expected to strike out on their own. Once he introduced himself and they had a few conversations, she understood. She didn't like it but she understood. It seemed to her as if every other word out of his mouth was Mother.

"Mother watched you when we crossed the river. She said you looked afraid, but still did what you needed to do. She said that's the mark of a woman who would be a good wife."

"Mother says Oregon will be a really nice place to raise a family."

"Mother says I should look for a wife along the way, but not to worry if I don't find one. She says there will be plenty of women in Oregon who want to get married."

"I told Mother about meeting you and she said you look like a very nice woman and a woman who could have a lot of grandchildren for her."

Everything James said seemed to Katherine to be just telling her what his mother said. Katherine knew being married to James would essentially be her competing with his mother. She didn't want any part of that. Still, they had a long way to go and as Mr. Mason had said, it was important that they all try to get along. Katherine didn't say anything to James that might tell him she was interested, but neither did she try to get him to stop talking with her.

Two other young men, both a couple years older than Katherine, were traveling to Oregon together. They talked to her sometimes, but Katherine got the feeling that they weren't really interested in her. It was the way that they both seemed to go everywhere together. They walked side by side as William drove the oxen. William and Jacob did separate at times though. William took care of the oxen while Jacob fixed their meals.

Katherine thought it a little odd that Jacob seemed to be upset if William wasn't sitting by the wagon at the same time their meal was ready to eat. Jacob reminded her of her mother when Katherine was about ten and didn't come in for supper on time. Jacob's words were nearly the same words her mother had used.