Nearly a year ago, I dreamt about a family traveling west on the Oregon Trail. The dream seemed so real that I began writing a novel, Enchanted Journal, based on it.
The Oregon Trail, its end at Oregon City, and the characters in Enchanted Journal fascinated me. I almost immediately began writing a sequel, Pony Express, about settling into Oregon City that features Will Anderson, who was introduced towards the end of Enchanted Journal. Pony Express is nearly ready for publication.
[An excerpt from Chapter 1 “The Journal”, of “Enchanted Journal”, ; Copyright 2022, Gordon S. Buck.]
Chapter 1: The Journal – April 8, 1859, Friday
Abigail Roberts was picking berries—or rather searching for them on the Oregon Trail. After only a week on the dusty trail, Abigail already yearned for her Tennessee home. She could always find berries back home; here, she had to keep their covered wagon in sight and berries were few and far between. Still, she was not about to wander any farther, especially after Jeff Cromwell stared hungrily at her as she attempted to slip out of camp unseen. Her hand dropped for the comfort of the sharp patch knife hidden in her trousers. I’ve got to tell Papa that Jeff scares me.
Abigail pulled her felted hat lower in a futile attempt to block the sun’s glare. Yielding to a strange urge, she stepped out of the wagon wheel rut and turned to her left. What was behind those bushes? A book? The thin brown book lying in the sandy dust seemed to invite her and wait for her to pick it up. Abigail could almost hear it. “Read me. I can help you.”
Why would anyone throw a book away? Although some emigrants were already reducing their wagon loads by discarding heavy items, no one would toss a book at this stage. Books carried weight in entertainment and in silver.
Calling for closer examination, the brown leather journal was irresistible. How long had it been lying there? Abigail picked it up between her thumb and forefinger. It was not wet, rotten, or smelly—just dusty, like everything else on the trail. She gingerly placed it in her open palm, careful not to damage it, and thumbed through the still pliable pages. The first few pages contained writing, but the rest of the sheets were blank.
March 25,1843
This is my personal diary and stories from my adventure on the Oregon Trail beginning today.
It has begun! We left our home in Tennessee today and are on our way to Independence, Missouri, to join an Oregon Trail wagon train. This may well be the adventure of my life!
We sold everything and packed our wagon full of supplies and equipment. We will use our farm wagon and mules for now. Poppa says we will trade for oxen in Independence, but first, we must get to Memphis to catch a steamboat. I have never even seen a steamboat, but soon I will be on one!
Of course, Momma is worried. Truth be known, she would rather stay near family and friends, but Poppa is restless and excited to move to Oregon. He talks about our “Manifest Destiny” to make all North America part of the United States.
From Memphis, we go up the Mississippi River to St. Louis, Missouri, and then take the Missouri River to Independence. We will get more supplies in Independence for the long trail.
I can scarcely wait to be on the trail! What will I do? Who will I meet?
*****
After a few pages, the writing ceased and Abigail studied her surroundings. Abigail’s family was in the same location as Milli Madison’s family had stopped years ago. Poor thing, I bet she was sad to lose her journal. Looks like she only wrote in it for a few days. But I’ll take good care of it. I’ll read it tonight. It will become my journal.
On her way back to their encampment with half a handful of berries, Abigail considered her own situation. Almost exactly seventeen years after Milli Madison, she, too, left Tennessee on a similar mission and route, their prairie schooner loaded with much of the same equipment. However, whereas Milli was excited about her journey, Abigail was not. She wished they had not left Tennessee, but what else could she do? Like her brother and sister, and even her mother, she had to follow her father’s wishes.
Fifteen years old, Abigail Roberts was the oldest child of Michael and Alice Roberts. More than a tomboy, she was tall and slim, but strong and hardened by farm work. Abigail helped her mother in the kitchen, but also cooked entire meals on her own. Her mother and father taught her to manage the farm, farmhouse, and family. Abigail would make an excellent farm wife; however, none of the boys or young men in their small community attracted her.
With Milli’s journal in her hand, Abigail recalled the gleam in her father’s eyes when he bought Randolph Marcy’s book “Prairie Traveler: A Handbook for Overland Expeditions.” More than read, Michael studied the handbook late that night, his calloused hands turning pages forward and backward. All the next day, he talked about the wisdom of the handbook as they worked in the fields. After her father finished the handbook, he insisted Abigail read it. Then he read it again. At that point, Abigail knew they would head west, and she dreaded it.
Abigail sighed as she remembered her father’s decision and their preparations for the Oregon Trail.