We were yet in a fairly thickly settled portion of the country; but
the leaders of our company determined to make the encampment exactly as
if we were on the prairie or among the mountains, where there might be
danger from wild beasts or wilder savages, and you may well fancy that
Ellen and I were on our feet as soon as the wagon came to a stop, for
we had heard so much of this camp making that both of us were eager to
see how it was done.
All the wagons were drawn up in a large circle so that the tongue of
one came close to the tailboard of another, and just inside this ring
of vehicles were set up small tents, which many of the company were to
use at night because their families were so large that every one could
not be given room in the wagons.
Inside this row of tents were picketed the horses, or, at least, they
were to be picketed as soon as night should come; but when we first
halted they were fastened out upon the plain where they might eat the
grass, while the oxen, cows, and sheep were turned loose with half a
dozen of the men and boys watching lest they should stray.
[Illustration]
Because the people were not accustomed to thus making an encampment,
no little time was spent in getting everything into what the leaders of
the company believed to be proper order, and then our mothers set about
cooking supper.
In our wagon the stove was pushed back upon the shelf made expressly
for it, short lengths of pipe were run through the osnaburg cloth and
tied by wire to the topmost part of the rear wagon bow, so they might
be held straight, and then mother set about her work much as if she had
been at home.
It was most pleasant camping in the open air, and before we had been
halted an hour the place was quite homelike.
At nearly every wagon one or more women were making ready for supper;
a short distance away the men and the boys were herding the cattle, and
near by, inside or out of the inclosure, were scores and scores of idle
ones, who, their work being done, were now enjoying a time of rest.
[Illustration]
There was much talking and shouting, but above all one could hear that
song of the true Pikers:--
"My name it is Joe Bowers,
And I've got a brother Ike.
I came from old Missouri,
Yes, all the way from Pike."