Ben Ch 6

THERE was sunshine as well as shadow on this pioneer journey. It was springtime with birds and flowers and green grass coming up to cheer the way. Rains at times made the roads difficult; but the clouds would break and let the sunbeams through. With every train, too, there were some who were always singing or whistling to drive away the blues. There were pioneer fiddlers, too, who drove dull cares away with their lively tunes.

One of these was Hen Brown. Hardly a night would pass without his merry music. After supper and the evening chores were done, out would come Hen's old fiddle, and the next thing was "Turkey in the Straw," or some other tune that made folk want to dance, as at times they did, on the greensward in front of the fiddler's tent. Joe and Ben and the other young people flocked to share in the fun, and stayed there enjoying Hen Brown's music and his jokes as long as their parents would let them do so.

Right in the midst of a lively tune, he would suddenly turn to the eager boys and girls with some such jolly remark as this, "Say, youngsters, do you know how the water gets in the watermelon?" Then after a pause and a shaking of heads, "You don't? Why that's easy; they plant the seeds in the spring." Or he might ask: "Do you know what gets wetter while it dries?" and go on with his tune while they puzzled, then say, "Why, don't you ever use a towel?" Flinging good music and fun made Hen a popular fellow with the pioneers, young and old.

June had almost gone before the train of covered wagons had crossed Iowa to the Missouri River Valley. Along the newly made trail, this band of pioneers passed Garden Grove and Mount Pisgah, two villages that had sprung up as way stations. At these places large fields had been plowed and planted to corn. Blacksmith shops had been set up to mend broken wagons. A good many log cabins had been built.

All this was in the spirit of helpfulness. Most of those who had plowed and planted did not remain to harvest their crops. Their cabins too, were left for other travelers who would be passing that way. Some of the pioneers would even plant a few hills of corn every time they camped for the night.

"Why are you doing that?" someone asked one of them.

"Oh, just to give boys and girls that follow this old trail later some good roastin' ears to eat, or maybe some corn to pop over the campfire. It's fun to do things that might make someone happy, even if you don't know who will get the joy."

At Kanesville, a town springing up among the hills just cast of the Missouri River, Ben was given two delightful surprises. First of all, his dog, Bones, came bounding up to their wagon and barking his joy as he found his young master. Towser could hardly understand the welcome Ben gave to this stranger; perhaps he was a bit jealous over it; but the two dogs soon became good friends.

A second surprise came just after Bones had appeared. Uncle Starling rode up to the train on a horse. He had big news for the families. War was on with Mexico. An officer of the United States army had come to President Young with a request that the Mormon people raise five hundred soldiers to help win the war.

It was a difficult call for a scattered, homeless people to meet; but the leaders patriotically decided to try to do it. With Captain Allen, they went back among the camps to enlist volunteers. Despite the hardships and dangers that lay ahead, the people rose to their country's call. It was not long before the Mormon Battalion, as it was called, was marching down to Fort Leavenworth to get uniforms and guns and other equipment for the long, hard march to California, then part of Mexico.

Ben's Uncle Sam White was one of the young men who volunteered. Uncle Starling, at the request of the leaders, had stayed behind as one of the scouts to help the oncoming families get settled there in western Iowa. It would not be until the next spring that President Young would lead a vanguard on to seek out a permanent homeland in the farther West.

Where should Ben's father and mother with the two grandmothers and the uncles and aunts make their homes while they remained in the Missouri Valley? Uncle Starling promptly advised that they settle on Pigeon Creek, about fifteen miles to the north of Kanesville. "Good water is there, and trees to build cabins, with a spread of rich bottom land near the rolling bills where corn, and other crops can be raised."

This helpful advice was taken. Next day found many of those who had come in the caravan together from Nauvoo seeking out their home sites on pleasant Pigeon Creek.

Men, women and children were soon at work. Food came first, so plats were plowed for quick growing vegetables, and some acres for the planting of corn.

"It might not ripen," said Uncle Lorenzo, "but it will give us some roasting ears and also good fodder for the cows and oxen."

"Yes, and we can dry some," spoke up Aunt Melinda. "We must lay in all the extra food we can to take us through the winter."

"Seems to me that there's goin' to be a lot of wild plums and huckleberries 'mong these hills," added Grandmother White. "If we're right smart, we'll get all we can of them to help out., That'll be good work for the younguns."

"I do wish Uriel might have lived to see this country," said Ben's other Grandmother sadly. "It is 'bout as pretty as the old Mohawk Valley he loved so much." She was busy with her knitting needles as she spoke.

Cabin homes soon began to rise around the Pigeon Creek dell. One building, larger than the others, was to serve as a meeting house and a school. It was not many weeks before there was a village of about thirty families. When the meeting house was partly finished with its pole and dirt roof, Apostle Hyde drove up from Kanesville to preside over the first service held in it. He praised the folk for their progress, and appointed leaders to guide them in their further work and their worship.

Ben and Joe and other boys were set at their usual work of herding the cows and oxen. With Bones and Towser to help, it wasn't such a hard job to keep the animals from straying away during the day. At night they were driven into corrals for safety.

Little trouble was expected from Indians. Most of the tribes were then living across the Missouri River. Just a few Pottowatamies still lingered on the Iowa side, and these were "tame Indians." They did not bother much except to come around begging at times. Some French trappers were among them with Indian wives.

Bruere, one of these trappers, came to Pigeon Creek village one day with his Indian wife and their three children, Roxy, Marie and Pierre. Seeing Ben's Uncle Lorenzo working on his cabin, Bruere rode up on his Indian pony to have a talk. It was rather a strange request this French trapper had to make.

"You white folk have school. I want my papooses brought up like yours. Will you and your wife take these three and let them live with you this winter and go to school with your boys and girls?"

"But we have hardly room in our cabin," Uncle Lorenzo began, "and too little food." By this time Aunt Melinda was at the door.

"I'll bring you much venison, maybe buffalo meat, and buffalo robes," Bruere went on. "My wife, she make moccasins, leggins, shirts, for your children. We treat you right. Papooses good. You take them, yes?"

Uncle Lorenzo turned to his wife. "It will crowd our cabin," said Aunt Melinda, "but we can put our boys and this little fellow up in the attic, and make a cosy corner below for the girls, I guess. As for food, if their father will keep his promise, we'll be better fed." So the French trapper's request was granted.

When Ben ran over to see his cousins that night, he had a big surprise. Three dark-faced, bright-eyed little strangers were with them. It wasn't many days, however, until Roxy, Marie and little Pierre were just happy children of the Pigeon Creek village. Pierre became a popular youngster because of his skill at catching fish, at hunting squirrels and rabbits. His keen ears and bright eyes were always hearing and seeing things that other boys missed. Ben grew to be very fond of him, as did also Bones and Towser.

One night late that winter the boy was over at the home of his cousins. Things were not so cheerful as usual. His uncle and aunt had a worried look in their faces. Their food supply was getting very low. Snow had fallen so deep that none of the men dared venture out to try to get deer or other game. Wolves kept up their howling in the nearby woods through the long nights.

"Bruere is pretty slow keeping his promise," said the troubled father quietly to his wife.

"Well, I've not lost hope that he will get through this snow," Aunt Melinda responded; "that Indian mother won't let her children go hungry if she can help it.”

Little Pierre, who bad been teasing the cat, suddenly jumped to his feet and ran to the door.

"What is it?" asked Uncle Lorenzo.

"Somebody come; maybe Injuns."

Ben and the other boys and the father, gun in hand, joined the Indian boy to listen intently. Soon they heard footsteps, crunching through the frozen snow. A little later there came a rap at the door.

"Who's there?" demanded Uncle Lorenzo.

"Bruere," came a husky voice.

The door was flung open. In the light of the fire that streamed through it were two dusky forms, that of old Bruere and an Indian companion. Behind them was a sledge they had drawn up to the cabin. It was heavily laden with venison and buffalo meat, and with the promised moccasins, leggings and shirts. Besides there were some warm buffalo robes to help keep out the biting cold. There was a feast that night, shared with other families. It was the beginning of brighter days for the pioneers.