_The Sooners_
In their own bed in the wagon, Cindy snuggled close against her twin
sister. Cindy had never been on a train, but it sounded like a wonderful
adventure, and she whispered, "Tell me about your train ride."
Mindy told her. She described the locomotive, the engineer leaning out
of its window, and the sweating fireman who shoveled coal into its
hungry vitals. She described each of the cars, and the people who had
been in each. Mindy told of her seat in the day coach, of the people who
sat in front of her, the people who sat behind her, and the people who
sat across from her. She spoke of the conductor, the conductor's blue
uniform, and the big brass buttons on his uniform. She described the
way the car's wheels clicked on the rails, and how they seemed to sing a
song. Mindy told of the depots, the various areas through which she had
passed, and ended with a complete description of the box lunch Grandma
Simpson had given her to take along.
Cindy sighed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Having Mindy tell of
the ride was _nearly_ as good as taking such a ride herself. There was a
silence which Mindy broke:
"You looked so grand when you were putting on your magic show. And even
though I know how you did it, I was scared when you 'killed' yourself.
Often I wish I dared do the things you do."
"The things _I_ do!" Cindy exclaimed. "Why, you're the only person in
the world who's ever been able to pet Mr. Brent's Thunder pony!"
She spoke more loudly than she had intended, and their mother overheard.
"Children," Mrs. Simpson called, "go to sleep now."
Mindy dropped into gentle slumber, but Cindy was far too excited to
sleep. She thought of the train ride, and of how dearly she would love
to take such a ride herself, but since there seemed to be no
possibility of that, she began thinking of what lay about her and
everything Pete Brent had said. It seemed to her that if she too could
make the ride into Oklahoma, it would be even more wonderful than riding
on a train. Maybe if she pleaded.... But the answer would be _no_.
Her father and mother began to talk in low voices, and though Cindy did
not try to listen, she couldn't help hearing.
"I'm worried, Jed," her mother said. "I can't help thinking that
something will go wrong."
"Now, Ann," Jed Simpson soothed, "you know very well that I can take
care of myself."
"Yes, but--Oh, Jed! I always hated to see you wear a gun when you were
marshal back in Lowville! But please wear it this time!"
Cindy became more alert. So her quiet father had been a gun-carrying law
officer! She'd never known.
"Now don't you worry," she heard her father say, "I'll take the gun even
though I don't expect to have any use for it."
"I'll be terrified if you don't!" Ann Simpson said. "I couldn't bear to
think of you out there with no way to defend yourself! All those
people!"
"They're good people, Ann. There's nothing to fear. You heard what Pete
said."
[Illustration]
"I heard him say that ninety-five per cent of them are good and he
wouldn't care to cross the border without his gun! Oh, I do wish we'd
stayed in Missouri!"
"In Missouri I was just a hired man," Mr. Simpson reminded her.
"But we always had enough, and we were happy. To give it up and take
these awful risks!"
"Now, Ann," Cindy's father's voice became firm, "this is the Simpsons'
chance, perhaps the only one we'll ever have, to rise in the world.
There may be some small risk, but nobody ever gained anything without
risking something. Think of the children, and of how much more we'll be
able to give them if we have our own farm instead of depending on a
hired man's wages."
"But there aren't even any schools out there!"
"There will be," Jed Simpson said. "Schools will follow on the heels of
the settlers. So will roads, towns, and even cities! And do you know who
one schoolteacher might be?"
"Who?"
"Mrs. Jed Simpson."
"Jed!"
"I mean it, Ann. You're a college graduate. And stop thinking of
Oklahoma as an empty wilderness. It may be that now, but within a week
it'll be settled. And it will need more than farmers. We'll need
doctors, carpenters, storekeepers, and above all, schoolteachers.
Working together, with each contributing to the best of his ability,
we'll build a new and mighty state!"
There was a short silence, and then Ann Simpson spoke again.
"Forgive me, Jed," she said. "Knowing you, I should have known that you
would have no small plan. Yes, I see it too, and I will be a
schoolteacher if we have to hold our first school in the open air. I
won't promise not to worry, and I won't be happy until I'm with you
again, and please take your gun!"
"I'll take it," Jed Simpson promised her.
Cindy dropped off to sleep and almost immediately fell into a happy
dream. She was mounted on one of Pete's ponies. Free as a bird and swift
as the wind, she skimmed over the enticing grasslands just across the
border to help her father and Pete stake claims.
Cindy rolled over and cried out in her sleep. The man with cat's eyes
had crept into her dream and made it a troubled one. She awakened
shivering, and did not go back to sleep for nearly an hour. But when she
did, there were no more dreams.
The next time she awakened, she smelled wood smoke and heard people
moving about. Breakfast fires were being kindled at every camp and
wagon. Cindy sat up in bed, and Mindy stirred beside her. Very softly,
Cindy patted her sister's cheek.
"It's morning," she said.
"Oh-h! So it is!" Mindy stretched and sat up drowsily.
Mindy donned the dress she had worn last night, but Cindy reached into
her own carpetbag for some underwear, blue jeans, and a shirt that Alec
had worn when he was ten. The clothing just fitted her if she turned up
the jeans' cuffs and rolled the shirt sleeves to her elbows. It was not
quite a lady's garb, but it offered much more freedom than any clinging
dress. Eyes wide with astonishment, Mindy stared at her sister.
"Cindy!" she exclaimed.
"I want to save my dresses," Cindy said.
"What will Mother say?"
"She doesn't care," said Cindy, who was not at all sure just what Mother
would say. "I wore these all the way out here."
They slipped out the back flaps of the wagon to find their mother
building a breakfast fire. She greeted the twins, smiled, and in her
heart Cindy gave thanks for an understanding mother who, while wishing
her daughters to be ladylike, knew why girls sometimes thought boys had
all the fun. Their father was grooming Sunshine, and Alec was giving the
mules their hay.
"Time you were up, sleepyheads!" Alec called cheerfully when he saw the
twins.
Mindy smiled, Cindy made a face at her brother, and both turned to help
their mother. Mindy, who had had no camp experience but had always
helped in the kitchen, mixed pancake batter. Cindy cut slices from a
side of bacon and arranged the tableware. Their mother put the big
coffee pot over the fire and got out her griddle.
"I'll do the cooking if you want me to," Cindy offered.
"No, thank you, dear," her mother declined. "I'll feel better if I keep
busy."
"Hello, neighbors."
Granny Brent had come out of her wagon and was about to start a
breakfast fire. White-haired and wrinkled, but not stooped or stiff,
Granny had spent much time in wagons and knew exactly how to do
everything. She smiled in her wonderfully gentle fashion.
"Well, well! So the other twin has arrived! Do come here, child, and let
me look at you!"
Mindy went trustingly over to become acquainted with Granny Brent. Cindy
and Alec and their father waved gaily to the old lady, and Mrs.
Simpson's face became less troubled. Granny and Gramps were living proof
that people could dare to cross a new frontier and live. They'd come to
Kansas many years ago, and this was to be their third homestead.
Mrs. Simpson pushed the sizzling bacon slices to one side, poured batter
onto the hot griddle. As soon as they were cooked, she scooped the
golden-brown pancakes into a covered dish that was near enough to the
fire to stay warm. Finally she called:
"Breakfast!"
The family ate hungrily for, as the children's mother remarked, it did
seem that life in the open air gave all of them the appetites of horses
that had gone without hay for a week. As soon as everyone had finished,
Mr. Simpson went over to plan with Pete Brent. Cindy got out the big
dishpan and Mindy prepared to help her, but again Mrs. Simpson waved
them aside.
"Leave the dish washing up to me," she said. "I must have something to
do. You children run along, and Cindamine, please stay out of trouble."
"I will," Cindy promised.
"Let's take a walk," Alec suggested.
The three children walked south along the line of camps, marveling at
the people who had gathered here.
Next to Pete Brent's wagon was a lean and fiercely bearded man who had
no camp except a bed roll thrown on the ground. He had no possessions
except the bed roll, a few cooking utensils, and a beautiful race horse
that he was forever either grooming or exercising. He was grooming it
when the children passed, and they hurried because the bearded man was
an unfriendly person who seldom spoke to anyone.
Then came three camps, one behind the other. The first belonged to an
old man with a sorry-looking mule and a small tent. A little to one side
and about thirty feet away was a tent belonging to two young men who
owned a smart buggy, or light wagon, drawn by two handsome horses. The
young men seemed little interested in anything except having a good
time. Directly behind them was another wagon occupied by a tired-looking
man, an equally tired woman, and four lively children. Scrawled in black
paint on the wagon's cover was:
FROZE OUT IN MINNYSOTA. FLOODED OUT IN ILLYNOIS. BURNT OUT IN NEBRASKY.
GRASSHOPPERED OUT IN KANSAS. MAKE OUT IN OKLYHOMY.
[Illustration]
For as far as the children could see in either direction were tents,
wagons, bed rolls, and even a few caves dug into the earth. These camps
were occupied by men, women, and children who, almost without exception,
had two things in common. They were very poor people who had never been
able to buy land of their own, and they had never given up the idea that
to have some would be glorious. So these they shared: poverty and
dreams. There were very few among them whose camps, rigs, teams, or
dress indicated that they had any money to spare.
[Illustration]
Directly across were a dozen tents wherein lived a detachment of the
soldiers who were guarding the border. Formerly their job had been to
look after the Indians, and to see that no Boomers were allowed to stay
in Oklahoma. Now they were patrolling the border to see that nobody
crossed before they should, and to evict any who did. Even as Cindy,
Mindy, and Alec watched, eight of these soldiers in the command of a
jovial-looking sergeant came in sight.
With them rode eight sullen-faced men. The sergeant called to the people
who gathered to watch, "Make way there! These men crossed a little
sooner than they should, and we caught them!"
The soldiers took their captives between the lines of watching people,
most of whom were angry. Women glared at the prisoners. Men clenched
their fists. Near Cindy, Mindy, and Alec, a middle-aged man started
talking to a younger one.
"Sooner than they should, huh?" he growled. "Bet these 'Sooners' got
most of the good claims already staked or are waitin' in there to stake
'em!"
"Sooners, huh?" the young man said. "Good name for 'em, pop. I'd sooner
draw a bead on one of 'em than on a rattlesnake. Got no use for anyone
who won't wait for the openin' gun an' take his chances with the rest."
The name spread among the assembled people, and there were more angry
murmurings about the Sooners.
"Sergeant!" a man called. "Leave these Sooners with us! We'd like to
talk with 'em."
"Now, now," the sergeant grinned. "I can't do that."
A little way from the crowd he stopped his prisoners, waved a piece of
paper, and addressed the Sooners.
"Got your names here, boys, and I aim to spread 'em," he said. "Go back
across if you think it's healthy. But I guess you know what people here
think of Sooners."
The soldiers wheeled and rode back across the border. As soon as they
were far enough away, the muttering people closed in. Putting spurs to
their horses, the Sooners galloped away as fast as they could.