Eben Jordan, hearing of my disappointment, said with a laugh that when
we came to the country where game was to be found he intended to bring
into camp all the fresh meat the company could eat, and one might have
thought from the way the boy talked that he believed himself capable of
feeding all our company unaided.
It would have been well if Eben had contented himself with predicting
the marvels which he counted on performing; but, instead, he reminded
me that before we had come into the Land of Promise I might be
more than willing to eat wild onions and "smack my lips over the
disagreeable food."
It seems that he heard, while in Independence, of the sufferings of
some people who had journeyed over that same trail, when they found
no game and their provisions were consumed before the march came to an
end.
It would have been better, so I said to him, if he had not repeated
such things, for surely we were getting all the discomfort that was
needed to show how foolish we had been in leaving Pike County, where no
one suffered from hunger or thirst, if he had a tongue in his head to
make known his desires.
It seemed almost as if the boy was a real prophet, for within a few
hours Ellen and I did come to know what thirst--bitter, parching
thirst--was like.
We had started out one morning when the rays of the sun beat down upon
us so fervently that the wagon covering seemed to be no protection, and
the only relief we had was from the gentle breeze which was blowing,
not with sufficient force to relieve our suffering, but enough to
prevent us from being literally baked.