Determined as I was to make the best of whatever might happen, I
could not but be disheartened when, nearly at nightfall, we halted to
make camp again. The rain was still descending like a cloud-burst;
everything around us, including the bedding, seemed saturated with
water. Yet I saw the men spread the thin cloth tents, after the wagons
had been drawn up in a circle, or made into a corral as the travelers
on the trail call it; I saw them wade ankle-deep in the mud, but with
never an impatient word or gesture. It appeared sufficient to them if
their women and children could enjoy some little degree of comfort.
[Illustration]
Again we strove to do our cooking under the wagon covers, and again we
were in need of fuel. Ellen and I, with the skirts of our gowns over
our heads for protection, scurried here and there, picking up twigs and
crying out with delight when we came upon a piece of wood as large as
one's fist.
You can well imagine what kind of supper we had that night. The inside
of the wagon was filled with smoke, for the short length of stovepipe
did not afford a strong draft, and mother labored, with the tears
streaming down her cheeks, to fry as much bacon as would satisfy our
hunger.
The smoke was so dense that we all wept, smiling even in the midst of
our seeming tears when father said, after he had milked the cows and
had brought in quite as much water as milk, that it was a question
with him whether he could stand better the smoke or the rain. He was
inclined to think he had rather be soaked with water than cured like a
ham.
Again Eben Jordan showed his kindness of heart, for he insisted upon
helping this man and that, milk the cows and herd the oxen and sheep,
and he did whatever came to his hand, all the while humming "Joe
Bowers."
When Eben came into our wagon later in the evening, Ellen and I treated
him very kindly, for we were coming to understand that this boy, who
found so much pleasure in vexing us girls, was ever ready to do a good
turn to another, even when it cost him much labor and discomfort.