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Wagon's West
30 October, 2001
Author: Don Fraser

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      We were rolling along across the prairie for six hard months, in line with other wagons. I joined the wagon train in St. Joseph, Mo. and was made the wagon master, I had led wagon trains west twice before. One of the first things That I told everyone in the train. If we should encounter any Indians, Give them what they want, Or they will kill all of the men, and make slaves of all the women and children. The reason I'm telling all of you this, I was stupid in not giving some Indians, horses from our herd. We had plenty, so I could have given them some. But I said no and they killed all of the men in the wagon train. [I played like I was dead.] They took my wife and two daughters, I will probably never see them again.

      I had the wagons that were going to be pulled by oxen, at the head of the train, and the ones pulled by horses and mules in the rear, that way the oxen would not fall behind the rest. Everyone was happy with that arrangement, until the people in the rear started complaining about the dust in their eyes. The only solution was to have the oxen travel to the side of the train, keeping the rest of the train in sight. The wagon train rolled on heading west.

     After three months we reached the mountains, We had to cross them before the snow came down, The people had their heart set on owning a farm in California. So they trudged on up the mountains, and into the forest.

     One night in the forest, an oxen that was tied to a tree, was eaten by a mountain lion, the very next day A boy was bitten by a timber rattler,The forest was much more dangerous than the prairie had been. Many times I had to chop fallen trees to get them out of the way of the wagons wheels, We had to go twenty-five miles out of our way to avoid the density of the forest. Many of the horses and mules would step in a hole that other animals had made, even an oxen stepped in a hole and broke it's leg, the same happened to the horses and mules, it was my job to shoot and butcher those loyal animals. But the wagon train had to move on, west. When I would butcher an animal, everybody would gather around a fire and we would have a feast, there was no way to keep meat fresh on a wagon train, so everyone stuffed themselves,

     One day I was chopping a log to get it out of the way of the wagon wheels. A big rattler bit me, I took my knife out and cut the wound, I sucked all of the venom out. After I spit the venom from my mouth, I tore the sleeve off of my shirt and covered the wound, and went back to chopping. I was going to help people fulfill their dream of a farm in California, or die trying.

     After six grueling months, we reached the lush valley's of California, I was proud that I had gotten those strong and courageous pioneers here. I was ready to settle down myself, I married a daughter, of one of the couples in the wagon train. And with the money that I earned plus the money I had saved from the two trips before. I bought a ranch and some cows, now my wife and my son have the nicest ranch in California. The wagon train never did see any Indians, And I was grateful. This ranch will always be the best in California, because my son told me so.

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