The Boys in Blue and Gray
By Chris James
Chapter Five
Abe stood in the corner of the stable waiting for Zach to return and wondered... would he come back? He had taken a chance allowing the boy to go home alone, what if his mother was there? But Zach needed his things, he just hoped the boy didn't bring too much.
Zach had said his mother was off at the hospital since she was sure there would be casualties from the battle. The boy had gone home for clothes and his horse while Abe remained in the sheriff's office. It gave him time to look through the sheriff's desk, and that's where he found the map and his pistol.
A quick look at the map showed him that they ought to head north into Pennsylvania. The only way west from Maryland was past several garrisons of Union troops. If they went north then they could avoid that danger and carry on until they reached Ohio.
Ohio, there Abe knew they would have to cross Illinois and Indiana to reach Missouri and the trail west. Independence, Missouri was a name he'd heard before, one of the gathering points for the pioneers who had migrated west years before. That was a long journey, but he didn't mind going slow, it would give him time to study and make plans.
Abe took the map and went out the back door to the stable. Just as Zach had said, his horse and saddle were there. The animal looked well kept, and she looked happy to see him. He placed the blanket on her back and seated the saddle, cinching everything in place. She stamped her feet, ready to get out and run.
He checked the saddle bags, hoping no one had rifled through them. The cloth bag was there, still just as heavy as usual, Abe still had his gold. He had counted it one night and come up with just over one hundred and forty gold twenty dollar coins, which was over two thousand dollars.
What he would ever do with that much money he couldn't imagine, but he had to safeguard it. His life was about to change, and not just because he was heading west. Zach would be a responsibility, more precious than all the gold. He was a smart boy, just inexperienced, but then everyone started somewhere.
This was a bold move, but then he felt prepared for it. The Institute had fostered confidence, and playing out the role of Captain Wheelwright had done the rest. He would have to tell Zach the truth at some point, maybe after they reached California and all this was behind them.
California, the name had stuck in his head since Mr. Roberts had read to them of the Gold Rush in '49. The years in between had seen thousands of families headed that way seeking a new life, a new existence. In school the thoughts had been romantic; the reality was a bit frightening. Thousands of miles lay between them and that distant notion of freedom.
The Shenandoah had been home all his life and he still felt the pangs of separation. But men went west to accomplish great things. The chance still existed there while it had been burned out here. Under the worst circumstances Abe could always go back to farming or raising cattle. Zach would have no idea how to do any of that, but he could learn... if he came back. Where was that boy?
The sound of a horse in the alley beside the jail house caught his attention and Abe slid a hand to his pistol, but it was Zach. The boy had a bedroll and a haversack along with the clothes on his back. Good, Abe thought.
"You ready?" Zach asked.
Abe laughed. "Sure, let's make tracks. How the hell do we get out of this town quietly?"
"Follow me," Zach said.
Abe had tied his things to the saddle, leaving behind nothing except his kepi hat. He didn't want to be mistaken for a soldier anymore. With Zach in tow they ought to pass for a couple of farm boys as they rode north into Pennsylvania. Their long journey had begun.
It seems as if the whole town of Frederick had gone off to battle since they saw maybe a dozen folks on the road as they left the center of town. The map in his pocket told Abe they needed to head towards Hagerstown and turn north into Pennsylvania where they would find the National Road west.
It would take them to Wheeling, West Virginia and on to Columbus, Ohio. That's about as far as Abe had discovered from the map, he would need a better one to replace it. For now Ohio seemed far removed from the conflict that raged not too many miles behind them.
By late morning they reached Middletown and carried on towards Hagerstown. The hills slowed them down and Abe didn't want to tire the horses, but a few more hours would see them to the day's end. Zach's mare looked sturdy enough, but his horse was in much better shape. They rode through the hills until there were signs they were approaching the city. Abe chose a stand of trees off the road to make camp.
Abe had always felt lucky in the choices he had made, this time it was no different. They had just unsaddled the horses and tied them up in a patch of sweet grass when they heard the sounds of hooves back out on the road. Abe pulled Zach into the trees as a whole troop of Confederate cavalry rode by, dozens of men.
Zach looked scared, but the horsemen were intent on the road and didn't look their way. Once they had passed Abe set about moving further off the road and setting up a place to spend the night.
"Are we safe here?" Zach asked.
"Safe as anywhere, we have to use the roads. I imagine we'll run into more soldiers as we go. But they looked like they were headed further north, maybe Pennsylvania," Abe said.
"How do you know that?"
"It was only cavalry; there was no infantry or cannon. That was a raiding force, they hit and run."
"How long before we get away from things like that?" Zach asked.
"A week, maybe less," Abe replied. "If we get stopped you just let me do the talking, I understand how soldiers think."
Zach opened his haversack and set aside his violin case, below it there were all kinds of goodies. He'd obviously raided his mother's pantry for there were two loaves of fresh baked bread and some cans, they now had more beans.
Abe shook his head. "Promise me something, when we get to California, no more beans... I've had it up to my eyebrows with beans."
"The Mexicans eat beans," Zach said. "My father said they eat really good spicy food, but it took some getting used to."
"Where was he in California?" Abe asked.
"Northern part, somewhere east of San Francisco. He went there for the gold with his brother, didn't do very well. Took all his money to get back home, but he had great adventures."
"We will too. Do you remember all his stories?"
"Oh sure, I heard them lots of times. You want me to tell them to you?" Zach asked.
"I do, we have a long road ahead. You can play me some of that violin music too, just not here," Abe said.
The sun was behind the mountains when they finished dinner. Until they cleared the state they would eat early and sleep away the dark hours. A fire in the early evening left smoke in the air but no flames to be seen, after it got dark that would be too risky.
"I'd sure like a cup of coffee," Abe said as he scoured out the mess kit.
"You can use a coffee pot in the coals, can't you?" Zach asked.
"Coffee pot? You brought a coffee pot?"
"Sure, it's a small one but... "
Abe dropped the pan and grabbed the boy with a grin. "Bless you." And with that he gave Zach a kiss. They set the pot of water in the coals and waited.
"We're gonna need a lot of supplies for this trip," Zach said.
"I know, we studied all about the pioneers who went west in history class. I didn't know the knowledge would come in handy."
"You haven't told me, where are we going exactly?" Zach asked.
"The Oregon Trail runs from Missouri all the way to Oregon, but we'll take the southern route... probably pretty much what your father did," Abe said.
Zach nodded, and Abe added coffee grounds to the pot after he took it off the coals.
"I miss my father," Zach said. "I know my momma tried her best to keep it all together after he died, but then after my brother got killed things kinda fell apart. I mean we had the house but no one wanted to buy it from her and she needed the money to move back to New York."
He sighed. "I suppose my grandfather waited until he was sure she'd come live with them, he sent her money so we could pack up. We were just making the arrangements when you showed up. I don't know what she'll do when she gets my note."
"She'll miss you as any mother would, she won't love you any less," Abe said. "But men are lucky, we get to make our own choices and act on them. Are you sorry you came with me?"
"No... I made that choice. Making this trip will bring me closer to my father, or at least his memory. My mother will be safe with her family. I'll miss her, but I think I'm grown enough to decide what I want to do. I want to be here with you."
They drank their coffee in silence, watching the sky darken and the night birds flying in the trees. Abe spread the coals to burn out; they would make no fire in the morning. They lay their bedrolls side by side and took off their boots.
"I sure am glad I got someone to wash these clothes," Abe said. "Did I ever thank you for that?"
"No, you were too busy escaping," Zach laughed.
"Oh... how rude of me," Abe grinned.
Zach nodded. "If you kiss me I'll forgive you."
And kiss they did. They were both so excited by the passion of being here, alone and free to follow their feelings, that the clothes started coming off. This was beyond the experience Abe had enjoyed with Charlie, beyond anything... and finally he could share what was in his mind.
Zach was a willing partner and they fumbled their way through it together. Beyond touching and caressing one another, Abe had given no thought to what boys might do together. But Zach was the creative one, his hands and mouth were everywhere until Abe could resist no longer. The hot wet mouth almost made him scream, but Zach was determined to finish and he succeeded.
Abe lay there stupefied at what had just happened as Zach spit a mouthful into the weeds. It couldn't remain unsaid; Abe had to find out if Zach had done that before.
"No... but my brother had some pictures... little drawings he brought back from New York. I saw a lady doing that and it looked nasty."
"So why did... ?"
"Because I knew it would make you happy," Zach said.
Night was upon them, the woods dark enough that Abe couldn't see the boy's face. He wanted to look in those eyes and see the passion that had driven Zach to perform such a wonder.
"I'm beyond happy, you fill me with joy every time I look at you," Abe said. "What can I do to make you happy?"
"You don't have to do that, I already made a mess on my bedroll," Zach chuckled.
"Is it hard to do, I mean take it in your mouth like that?"
"Not when you care about someone... when you want to love them."
"Are we in love?" Abe asked.
"I think so, but I'm no expert. I don't know... how do you tell?" Zach asked.
"I think... No, I do love you, and not because of what you just did. I love who you are, what you will become," Abe said.
"What am I?" Zach asked.
"You're the reason I'm going to smile every morning for the rest of my life."
And they lay down for the night in one another's arms, secure in what they had declared and ready to figure out what it meant. Abe knew he should be ready to return Zach's favors; it had been such a shock, such a wondrous feeling. The boy had seen a picture and figured it out, that took courage. He hoped he would be up to the challenge.
The next two days took them closer to Cumberland where they turned north and crossed into Pennsylvania. They had stepped off the road several times when Union patrols rode by but they saw no further Confederate soldiers. Now they were headed for Uniontown where Abe felt they would finally be secure and beyond the reach of the war.
Zach had been filled with stories about the trip west his father had taken; there was a lot of wisdom in the man's thoughts. The son told his father's story dispassionately, but he had heard them so many times that Abe didn't doubt the accuracy of the words. At least it gave them both a chance to figure what they were up against.
It took courage, but Abe finally told Zach the truth. "I was a cadet at the Military Institute in Virginia, which makes me a Reb."
"So you were a spy... "
"Yes, just not a very good one," Abe said. "I just got so mad after Charlie was killed... "
And then he went on to explain his feelings for Charlie, feelings he could now understand a lot better. Zach was attentive, compassionate, and when Abe began to cry as he described looking down at Charlie's face in death, Zach reached out and gave comfort.
Despite the sorrow and pain he saw in Abe, Zach suddenly felt elated. His life suddenly had meaning, he was meant to be here. He knew that he was needed, being with Abe made him feel alive. He had never found himself interested in girls, he was meant to be in love with a boy... this boy.
Abe was strong of mind and purpose, qualities that Zach much admired. But Abe had been wounded, torn apart by the death of his friend. No matter he was a Reb, for now he was the one thing Zach knew he could love and not lose. This was only the beginning.
Uniontown was a chance to buy supplies and clothing. The owner of the dry goods store they discovered was only too happy to see a couple of boys with money.
"Heading west are ya? Don't blame you one bit," The man said. "You'll find all the things you need for the trip when you get to St. Louis. But I have a fine rifle here you might consider, don't know if you can get these anywhere else."
He opened a case on the wall of the store and pulled down a rifle. "This is the Spencer repeating rifle, it's been used by a lot of our soldiers out there in the field. Now I know everyone is talking about the Henry 44, but that dang thing has too many problems.
"You get yourself out there on the prairie and those Indians come at ya, well, sir... you'll be glad to have this rifle. Seven shots, lever action and all you have to do is pull the hammer back to fire. Takes one of these brass cartridges like this," He said holding one up for Abe to see.
"I see, and why is this better than the Henry 44?"
"Well, that rifle has fifteen shots, but it's got no grip at the front, you have to hold on to the barrel and I suppose I don't have to tell ya how hot that darn thing can get. Tried one of those myself when the salesman come thru here, burnt my fingers after half a dozen cartridges, I did."
Abe hefted the Spencer; he'd never held one before. He knew the Yankees had used this quite effectively and it weighed less than a musket. But having to carry all those cartridges around would be a problem and so he asked.
"You might get a few boxes here, but they're available all the way west. I know some men carry the extras on a belt across one shoulder, but it won't do if they get banged around or wet. Best part about these rifles is that it throws a .52 hunk of lead, just about like a musket ball. You go hunting with this and you can take down a buffalo."
"How much?" Abe asked.
"Well I got two you can choose from, one's got the full thirty inch rifle barrel and the other is this carbine with a twenty-two inch barrel. Weighs about a pound different, but it's easier to load and you can shoot on horse back without too much trouble."
"Not if I want to hit anything," Abe said. "How much for the carbine?"
"Seventy dollars and I'll give you two boxes of cartridges and a saddle scabbard for it."
Seventy dollars sounded like a lot, but he did need a rifle. "It's a deal, I want a bill of sale so no one thinks I stole it," Abe said.
"Absolutely," The man said.
Zach had picked out shirts and pants for them both. He approached Abe with a hat in hand. "What do you think of this?" He asked.
"Mighty wide brim, don't you think? Reminds me of the hats they wore in the cavalry, long and narrow to keep the rain from running down your collar."
"Maybe this is what cowboys wear? You wanna be a cowboy?" Zach laughed.
"Sure, get me one," Abe said.
Abe gave the man four of the twenty dollar coins and he seemed happy. They walked up the street and found the hotel just off Main Street. Here they could rest up in a real bed and take a bath. The woman behind the counter eyed them suspiciously until Abe handed her another of the coins and she gave him paper money in change. Her name was Cleary and she said her husband would take care of the horses.
There was nothing unusual about men sharing a room, but they locked the washroom door as they bathed together. Abe stood in front of the wash stand and looked at himself in the mirror.
"You think I ought to shave it all off?" Abe asked.
"No... I like you with hair on your face, but you need to keep it trimmed," Zach said.
"I'll find a barber."
They bathed and dressed before thinking about their supper. Mrs. Cleary smiled this time and pointed at the restaurant across the street. They both ordered the chicken with potatoes and greens, there had been too many nights of beans for the both of them. They drank their coffee and then wandered back across to the hotel around sunset.
They shared a few kisses and then slept like logs, the war far behind them. But Abe awakened at first light, an old habit, and one that gave him the chance to watch Zach sleep. Lord he had lucked out with this boy. And with that thought came the realization that he would likely never marry.
There wasn't anything he wanted from a woman; he just wasn't attracted to what they offered. People might talk unless they had their own place together. It wouldn't do to try and pass themselves off as brothers, they looked nothing alike. But he was sure that wouldn't become an issue for quite some time.
Today they would leave town and resume the road west towards Wheeling. Abe had bought the rifle and thought to teach Zach how to use it. The boy had some familiarity with shooting; he had been hunting with his friends. But the carbine was a man's weapon and he didn't know if Zach was prepared for the noise and recoil from such a rifle.
Zach awoke to Abe's smile and it made him blush, which earned him a kiss and then so much more. By now Abe wasn't afraid of what it meant to put his face between Zach's legs, he enjoyed making the boy squirm and groan. And now when Zach gave him a full discharge Abe swallowed. He had learned to love the taste, telling himself it was so much better than beans.
They ate a substantial breakfast and went out to saddle the horses. Mr. Cleary was there and offered to do it but Abe shook his head.
"I grew up around horses, Mr. Cleary. This little lady seems to enjoy my touch so I do my best to please her when I can."
Cleary smiled. "I treat the missus the same way." And they all laughed.
Abe waited for Zack to saddle his horse then he carried the carbine and scabbard over to the boy's horse. He slid one loop over the pommel and tied the scabbard down to the lower portion of the saddle on the off-side above the cinch. This way the stirrup leather would keep the weapon in tight against the horse's shoulder and it wouldn't bounce, Zach would hardly know it was there.
"Why is that on my horse?" Zach asked.
"Because you're going to learn how to use it, and then it will be your weapon," Abe said.
"I can fire a rifle."
"I know, but this one has a kick you'll need to adjust to. I have my pistol, now we're both armed."
"I see, I guess it can be dangerous on the trail, my father said it was," Zach said.
"He travelled at a time when the worst dangers were flood, famine and Indians. We have some new two legged animals out there called marauders." Abe rubbed his ear and smiled. "The one who shot me didn't live to tell anyone."
Zach had heard the story, just not the whole of it. Knowing that Abe had faced down such ugly men gave him confidence, they would do well together. It made sense that he learn to shoot well, he just wasn't sure he could kill a man. But if they threatened the one he loved there would be no questions asked before he pulled the trigger.
They rode the sixty miles to Wheeling in one day, anxious to reach Ohio and leave the war behind. West Virginia had just been declared a state, separated from Virginia the year before. Abe wasn't sure what the sentiments would be in Wheeling, he planned to be cautious.
The small city on the banks of the Ohio River was only fifteen miles from the Pennsylvania border, but Abe was relieved to see the Stars and Stripes flying over the city. They rode into town all the way to the Ohio River and looked at the various watercraft assembled along the docks.
"Nice town," Zach said. "Are we going to find a hotel?"
"I thought we'd cross over before nightfall," Abe said. In his mind this was still Virginia, his home state, and something he wanted to leave behind. They rode across the bridge and came to a stop as a uniformed man walked down the line of travelers.
"Read the signs, please... read the signs or turn back," He called out.
"It says toll road, are we going to have to pay?" Zach asked.
"Suppose so, it can't be much just to cross a bridge," Abe replied.
But the states had been charged with maintaining the National Road; they did it by levying a toll on every traveler, horse and wagon heading west. Abe was sure they would have to keep paying such fees for much of their journey.
They found a small boarding house on the Ohio side of the river that was willing to let them have a room for a few days. Abe felt they needed to spend time investigating the trip ahead, it was already mid-July.
At the best of times a run on the Oregon Trail might take four or five months, at least they were past the spring floods. There were a dozen rivers to cross and innumerable streams. Some could be forded; others required paying a fee to use the ferry. But there were other issues in nature to consider, the worst being the onset of winter. Only a fool would be caught in the western mountain ranges in late fall.
Sickness and starvation, Indian attacks and snakebite, all these things Abe knew would have to be faced by them both. He just didn't think they should do it alone. And one of the ways the pioneers had assured their survival was to travel in wagon trains.
Abe knew something about cattle, and a team of oxen were little more than oversized cows with an attitude. Handling something that large was a nuisance so he was opposed to the idea of their own wagon. It was just that a man on horse could only carry so much; and their horses would have enough problems on a rough trail.
So joining up with a group seemed like a good idea. They would need to pay for some space on a wagon for their supplies and contribute to the wagon's progress on the road. Being able to adapt their plans to fit the needs on a daily basis would take someone with experience. It was no different than having an officer lead the troops; they would have to sign on with an experienced travel company.
They settled into the boarding house and stabled their horses up the street. Zach was all for taking the afternoon and exploring Wheeling on foot, but first they had some business. Each of them toted their saddles over to the blacksmith's shop beside the stable and sought out the man in charge. Abe wanted the saddles strengthened and additional padding for the long ride ahead. He spent some time explaining exactly what was needed and came to an agreement with the blacksmith.
The National Road ran all the way to central Illinois and somewhere along the way Abe figured they'd meet someone with the knowledge they needed. Zach paused to look in the window of a music store and Abe moved up beside him.
"I ought to buy some extra strings for my violin, but I don't have any money," Zach said.
Abe reached in his pocket and handed over some of the paper money. "We'll take care of that. Besides I don't want to be carrying around all that gold in one place."
Zach led Abe into the store and asked the clerk for the strings. As a farm boy Abe had never felt the urge to learn about music. He'd been to the Negro church and heard the joyous singing there. And every so often there had been a barn dance with fiddles and guitars, but he'd never felt the need to learn.
The music store had a small spinet on the floor and Abe walked over and touched the keys with his fingers. Only moments later Zach was beside him with a smile.
"You want me to play you something?" He asked.
"Don't you need the music written down?" Abe asked.
"No, I know lots of music in my head."
Zach asked the clerk if he might play something and she nodded. "You go right ahead, that's why it's sitting there."
Zach sat down and thought a moment, and then he began to play. Abe had never heard the like, the tune sounded strange and different. He looked over at the clerk and she smiled, walking over and watching Zach play.
To see the boy's fingers move with precision up and down the keyboard gave Abe a new appreciation for Zach's talents. The contrast of their lives was never more evident than at this moment, but Abe saw a military precision and correctness in the way Zach played his music.
"That was Mozart, classical music," Zach said when he was done.
"It was pretty, I never heard the like," Abe replied. "Must have taken you a long time to learn."
"I started piano when I was eight," Zach said. "Back then my hand was too small to reach all the notes. But I prefer the violin."
"Would you like to play one?" The clerk asked.
"Oh, I have my own back at the hotel," Zach said.
"I see, but we have some very nice violins, Mr. Ballenger brought them back from Germany," She said.
"Did I hear my name?" An elderly man said, walking into the store from the back room. "You play the piano quite well, young man."
"Thank you, Sir," Zach said.
Ballenger walked to a glass case in the corner and gently removed a violin and bow. He plucked the strings and smiled. "This one is mine; it's in tune as I use it every afternoon. I'd love to hear you play."
Zach took the violin and noticed the fine wood burls and dark ebony fret board; this was a really good violin. He took up the bow and pulled it across the strings, amazed at the deep resonance of the instrument.
"Do you know the Adagio in E major?" Ballinger asked.
Zach smiled. "Yes, my mother used to play it with me."
"May I?" Ballinger asked, seating himself at the piano.
"It would be my pleasure," Zach replied.
The piano began to play and Zach held up the bow, and then joined in. As Abe listened he looked at Ballenger and saw the smile and nods as the boy played. Here was a man who made music his business and he could appreciate Zach's talent, perhaps the boy could make a living with his violin.
The music was so different, but Abe could see the two musicians seemed joined in creating the beauty of the sound... and then they finished with a flourish.
"Yes, you have a gift for music," Ballenger said. "Something I don't see very often. Where are you from?"
"Maryland," Zach said. "But my mother taught me, she learned her music in New York."
"Ahh, well you go on learning, you have a very nice touch," Ballenger said. "May I show you something?"
Zach nodded and Ballenger took back his violin, set it under his chin and began to play... something different. Only now Abe could see that the instrument was being played by a master, the music sounded elegant. Ballenger closed his eyes and they could almost feel the music leap from his fingers as he made the violin come alive in his hands.
Abe could see the effect of this man's ability on Zach's face; he was in awe of the music he was hearing. And when Ballenger was finished with the short piece he gave a slight bow.
"Mozart occupied the early days of my learning as well, young man. Sometimes all it takes is the right instrument to inspire."
"That's a really fine violin," Zach said.
"Stradivarius, I'd guess it to be about a hundred and fifty years old," Ballenger said. "I'm sure it's one of the very few outside of Europe."
"Do you play professionally?" Zach asked.
Ballenger smiled. "I did in my youth. I played with the Philharmonic Society in New York some fifteen years ago. Beethoven was all the rage in those days, but I like my quiet little Mozart. You keep after your music. And if I may ask, what brings you to our small corner of the world? "
Zach looked at Abe, the truth should be told. "We're headed west," Zach said.
"Ahh, I see. Well it's not like they're all savages out there, I hear San Francisco may develop an orchestra. It would be wonderful if you can find others that share your interests."
"Thank you, Sir," Zach said.
Ballenger smiled and then carried his violin with him back behind the curtain. They left the store and Abe could tell Zach was still in a daze.
"That man plays very well, but so do you," Abe said.
Zach sighed. "I could only hope to be that good someday."
"I never heard music like that before, that Mozart fella writes a good tune. I think people would like it."
Zach laughed. "You have no idea who he is, do you? I'm sure I could make a living with the violin, but I don't think there are any concert halls where we're going."
"We'll see. He said San Francisco; I wonder what that town is like?" Abe said.
"You really haven't chosen a destination, have you?" Zack asked.
"No, I was hoping to learn more as we went along."
And learn they did. The National Road was a thousand miles long and they would travel six hundred miles of it before they had to head south. Major cities like Columbus, Springfield and Indianapolis captured their attention, but St. Louis became their destination and they reached it the first week of August.
Abe felt pressed for time now, he knew they needed at least four months to follow the trail west to California. St. Louis was a bustling city, the gateway to the frontier for many years. It wasn't hard to find an abundance of travel companies, the posters were everywhere.
'Derby Outfitters: We'll set you up and all you'll have to do is drive the wagon.' It sounded too good, it probably was. All along the road Abe and Zach had spoken to people. Some had been there and back; others just wished they could go. The one thing they all said was be sure who was boss of the wagon train and carry lots of ammunition.
By now Zach could shoot a can off a fence post at a hundred feet and hit a tree at a hundred yards. Abe figured that was good enough to knock down an Indian if they were attacked. And that was a good possibility; he was hearing stories about the 'Snake Indian Wars' out in the Oregon Territory.
Abe spoke with several outfitting companies and they all said the same thing, it was too late in the season, there wouldn't be any organized wagon trains until spring. The last group had left the city the previous month an agent named Mallory informed them. From his explanation they were probably headed into the Nebraska Territory by now.
The agent was showing them a map of the Oregon Trail and something he said caught Abe's attention.
"You said they gather at Fort Kearney, what does that mean?" Abe asked.
"The army wants to make sure there aren't any stragglers. Once they get a group with about a hundred people then they send the wagon train off thru Indian country. You still want to go on?"
"We do, can we catch up to them?"
"I don't know, usually takes about three or four weeks to get to Kearney with a team of oxen. But they won't be hard to catch on horseback, which will take you about ten days. I'll tell you what, you get to Kearney and look for Tom Rollins, he's our man. I'll give you this map, the trail is pretty easy to follow and you can get all your supplies out there."
"Thank you," Abe said.
"You just be careful on the way to Independence, there's still a lot of activity because of the war. If I was you I'd stop over to the Armory and see Major Beale. They sometimes have a patrol headed north and you can hook up with them. Come to think of it, I got some mail I'm supposed to send west; don't suppose you'd like to carry it?"
"If it's not too heavy," Abe said.
"Good... good. And here's this booklet we wrote for the travelers, some mighty good advice in there."
The man handed over a sack of mail and a small booklet. Mallory shook hands with the boys and told them where to find the Armory.
"We really gonna do this alone?" Zach asked as they got back on the street.
"I don't think it's too risky by horse, at least until we get to Fort Kearney. I'd feel a whole lot safer with a hundred people around us when we went through Indian country."
"Oh yeah, that makes sense," Zach said.
They went back to the hotel and packed. They rode across town to the Armory, which was pretty easy to find as there was a substantial guard of soldiers out front. Major Beale seemed cooperative, he was sending a patrol to Independence in the morning and they were welcome to ride along. He asked if they were armed and when Abe told him they had a pistol and one rifle he shook his head.
"Double that and you might make it," The major said. "Lot of folks come through here with shotguns off the farm, I usually tell 'em that you don't want to wait for an Indian to get that close to you. I'd go get another rifle at least if you can afford it." And then he told them where to find a gun dealer.
Abe was open for any advice that sounded good, so they rode back into the city and found the gun shop. The man had a selection, but rather than get anything different he bought another Spencer carbine, the store had twenty of them at sixty dollars apiece. He bought another four boxes of cartridges and a scabbard for his horse... then he bought Zach a pistol.
"You mean I have to wear that like you do?" Zach groaned. "Those things are heavy."
Abe grinned. "I'll get you some suspenders."
The Colt he chose was just like his, and used the same ammunition. Abe didn't know what they were up against but they would have to move fast to catch up with the party at Kearney. On the way back to the hotel they stopped at a dry goods store and bought some food supplies.
Zach looked puzzled when Abe had them carry the saddles up to the room, but there was a very good reason behind it.
"We have a hundred and twenty-three gold coins, that's our fortune," Abe said. "I propose we carry the twenty-three in our saddle bags, the others we hide."
"Hide, but where?" Zach asked.
Abe turned the saddles over and unlaced the edges of the new padding. Sewn along the rim was a long leather sleeve, the blacksmith had understood what Abe wanted and here it was.
"This ought to hold the coins, fifty for you and fifty for me. We unsaddle the horses every night and sleep up against the saddle anyway, this way our money stays safe even if some Indian steals the horses."
"You think that will happen?" Zach asked.
"I sure hope not, I like that horse, but we have to be prepared for most anything."
They filled the sleeves with coins and tied everything back in place. The saddles only weighed about three pounds heavier. Abe had considered getting a pack horse, maybe as they went further along. He was hoping to find some extra wagon room, but wasn't sure that would work out either. He didn't want to think about all the unknowns facing them on the trail.
They were up at dawn and saddled up for the ride back to the Armory. A sergeant greeted them and agreeably invited them across the street for breakfast; they had an hour before the patrol was supposed to leave.
The man introduced himself as Clay Anderson, and said he was originally from Pittsburgh. Abe judged him to be in his mid-thirties and tough as nails.
"So what takes you boys west, as if I don't know," Anderson asked.
"We've both had enough of this war, lost friends and family... it seemed like the right thing to do," Zach said.
"No argument there," Anderson said. "Once this is all over I imagine they'll muster a lot of us out of the army, and then maybe I'll go take a look at Oregon. Either of you fought?"
The question was rhetorical, he looked right at Abe. "I was at New Market, but the chunk out of my ear came from a marauder who was bent on robbing the town," Abe said.
Sergeant Anderson nodded. "There are a lot of deserters from both sides that have turned to crime; it might get worse after the war. But you're headed into something totally different; the Indians have their own brand of lawlessness, especially the Cheyenne and Sioux."
"We heard the Snake River country is pretty bad," Zach said.
"It is, we don't have enough troops out there. You'll go through the first fort at Kearney, then Fort Laramie and finally Fort Hill. There's a lot of country between those places, too much for us to cover. It takes a keen eye with a rifle to hold off those Indians." Then he smiled at Abe. "What happened to that marauder who shot you?"
"My keen eye shot him in the head," Abe said.
Anderson laughed. "You boys will do all right; just keep your powder dry."
The patrol was headed for Leavenworth which wasn't far beyond the town of Independence where Abe and Zach would pick up the trail west. It was a steady four day ride, and Abe was astounded at how the soldiers kept them moving along.
Anderson had seven men with him, young recruits who were just learning the ways of the army. But at their nightly campfires the sergeant gave Abe and Zach a good deal of information about Indians and how to deal with them.
"I heard of a wagon train where the Cheyenne walked right into the camp without a shot being fired. It was only about a dozen braves and they were hungry. The group had meat on the fire and the Indians just sat themselves right down and ate everything in sight. Then when they were done they got up and walked away, damndest thing I ever heard," Anderson said.
"It seems if they don't have a beef with you then they'll leave you alone. But they'll steal cattle and horses at the drop of a hat. They see it as their right since we're crossing their land, but some of them are not so agreeable.
"Sometimes they'll get close enough to shoot a cow or ox, leave a couple of arrows in the poor critter so's it can't walk. They know the settlers will leave the animal behind and then it gets butchered. But to them the buffalo are sacred and they get mighty angry watching the settlers shoot their game without sharing. It's just best not to let them get too close."
"Are any of the tribes friendly?" Zach asked.
"By the time you ask that it'll be too late. You'll be goin thru Arapaho and Pawnee lands until you get to Kearney, after that you have to watch out for the Sioux and Cheyenne before you get to Shoshone land. We call them the Snake tribes because they are damned hard to see and strike without warning. Those damn British got them all riled up against us and gave them guns; we're still fighting them off."
"That all sounds pretty scary," Zach said.
"You boys will be fine, just get together with a wagon train and you'll have plenty of protection. I figure you'll find one waiting at Kearney. We're making over sixty miles a day while they're lucky to get fifteen out of those oxen. Just be careful not to run right past 'em."
At Independence the patrol went their separate way. Anderson shook their hands and wished them luck. Abe was still pushing hard as they rode northwest, only now the wagon track was much more visible. He explained to Zach how he was concerned about the timing of their trip.
"Moving fifteen miles a day isn't going to get us far enough along, we're still a month behind where we ought to be to avoid the snows. At the rate Anderson was saying it will take us two months to reach Fort Hill."
He showed the route to Zach on the map, but it was hard to tell the real distance they would cover. Small things like fording a river, dealing with breakdowns and even Indian attacks would slow everything down even more. Abe was reading in the booklet again.
"It says some wagon trains choose not to travel on Sundays, now that's plain crazy," He said.
"Some folks feel the need for God's grace, Abe. We'll do just fine," Zach said.
They were up with the dawn every morning and on the trail. They encountered only two trading posts along the way and the cost of goods was exorbitant. Abe figured they'd traveled about two hundred miles when they came to the crossroads Anderson had told them about. Here the Oregon Trail wandered in from the east and crossed their path; it was only a two day ride to Fort Kearney.
This was a well marked trail, but then Abe figured the Indians knew that as well. Arapaho and Pawnee, Sergeant Anderson had said. They rode with their eyes wide open, watching the distant hillsides for any signs and stopping at night after dark to sleep without a fire. It was exhausting, but then the morning came and they saw the river.
The area surrounding the fort seemed like an oasis in the flat featureless landscape, and that was due to the Platte River. Two things caught their attention as they followed the road towards the fort. The first was the gathering of wagons that occupied the field beside the wooden walls of the stockade; the other was a collection of tepees on the other side of the river.
Abe was excited that the wagon train was still here, Zach was taken by the proximity of the Indians. They stopped by the side of the road and Abe took some of the gold coins from his stash, they would need money for supplies. He led them towards the fort and swung into the wagon camp where they asked for Tom Rollins.
"He's up at the fort, you can't miss him," A woman told them. "Just look for the red hair." And that set several of her companions to laughing. Abe turned them towards the fort and entered through the gate.
The fort consisted of a huge square surrounded by buildings and what appeared to be recently dug earthworks. Abe could see a collection of wagons over to one side loading supplies and he headed that way. The woman was right, Rollins stood out in the crowd with his huge mane of red hair.
Abe and Zach dismounted and tied their horses to a rail outside the store. Abe untied the mailbag and approached Rollins who was busy giving orders for the loading of the wagon.
"Mr. Rollins?" Abe asked. "I have something here for you."
Rollins turned and took in the two boys with pistols slung around their waists and held up his hands. "Don't shoot... my wife made me do it," He said.
Everyone on the wagon laughed and Rollins gave them a grin when he saw the mailbag. Abe shook his head and smiled. "No, we have mail from St. Louis. Mr. Mallory sent us to find you."
"Mail, we'll blessed be, that's mighty welcome," Rollins said and he took the bag, handing it over to another fellow. He stared at Abe and then Zach nodding his head as if he liked what he saw. "I guess you've come to join up."
"That we have, but we need supplies too and we have no wagon," Abe said.
Rollins nodded. "You can load two hundred pounds in my wagon, but I would get a pack mule from the stable for your day to day rations, they can carry about three hundred pounds." He reached in his pocket and took out a note book with a pencil. He wrote for a minute and tore out the page.
"Take this inside and Jake will fix you up. Go get that mule and then come find me over at the camp."
"Thank you, Sir," Abe said, and then he grinned.
Rollins cocked his head. "You got something else to say?"
"Um, doesn't all that red hair make you a target for the savages?"
Rollins laughed. "Oh hell, yes it does. There are sixteen of 'em dead because they tried to take my scalp."
"About what I figured," Abe said.
Rollins looked at the pistol in Abe's holster. "You know how to use that thing?"
"Only two dead I know of, I got some catchin up to do."
Rollins laughed, his rich baritone carrying across the parade ground. "I like you boys already," He said as he went back to work.
The store owner was Jake; he took Rollins' list and quickly pulled the supplies together. It looked like a lot more than four hundred pounds, but Jake said they would eat it down right fast. Flour and coffee, sugar and salt... and beans, always the beans.
Abe let Zach pick out a mule from the six in the corral, the animal looked sturdy enough. They bought a pack frame for the supplies and the bags to tie on it. In all they had just spent close to two hundred dollars, but they had met their needs. Now they were ready to head west.
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