The Young Riders: Buck Cross Prompt 017 -- Brown
Title: One More River
Fandom: The Young Riders
Characters: Buck Cross, Teaspoon, Polly, Kid, Lou, Jeremiah, Theresa
Prompt: 017 -- Brown
Word Count: 1063
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Pony Express has ended, and the Civil War has torn the Express family apart. A few of them decide to strike out across the country to Oregon and a fresh start.
Author's Note: This is the eighteenth section of a continuing story dealing with the journey from Rock Creek, Nebraska, to the West Coast via the Oregon Trail.
They reached the first major river crossing three days later.
Buck hurried his step and caught up to the lead pair of oxen, grabbing the harness and pulling back to stop the forward progress.
He walked a bit ahead, studying the river. It was wide, but now at the beginning of July the hot weather and lack of rain had lowered the water level so that he could see the bottom several feet out.
Of course, shallow water didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be other dangers here. There could still be a drop-off in the middle that would swamp the wagon. The water there was brown, its depth hidden from plain sight by the mud. And the lazy running water could have created such a layer of mud at the bottom that the animals and wagon would get stuck.
He walked up almost to the edge of the water and crouched down, studying the ground. What he saw brought a little bit of relief to his worries. He didn’t see any sign of wagons leaving this line of the main trail to cross anywhere else. Across the river he could see stakes driven in almost directly across, and from what he could tell from a distance it looked like the only exit trails from the water were all in virtually that same spot.
And best of all, there were no fresh carcasses or signs of wreckage to indicate that the last train through had had any problems crossing.
To be honest, this was probably the part of the trip that worried him the most - at least as far as actually making the journey. Anyone could follow the deep ruts that marked the trail in most places these days. And even if they somehow wandered off the trail, his sense of direction was good and had never gotten him lost.
Well, at least not since that time when he was about four and had confidently left the village to find a bear. Hours later Red Bear had found him, cold, alone, and crying.
Vowing that would never happen again, he’d worked hard to hone his skills to survive on the land.
No, actually getting lost didn’t worry him at all. But things like river crossings did. He’d heard plenty of horror stories, repeated from travelers’ accounts of the journey across the continent. And Teaspoon had insisted they all read a book called the Prairie Traveler to prepare for this trip. The descriptions of river crossings where wagons had to be sealed and floated across, or where several teams of oxen were needed to steady the wagons against the current - those were the things that worried him.
Worried him a lot, actually.
And those crossings were still to come.
Buck stood and walked back toward the wagon. Inside, he could hear the voices of Julie and Doris Hanlon.
They’d run out of laudanum the day before, and Doris was feeling the effects of no longer having the drug in her system. Already last night she had been argumentative, refusing to eat. By this morning she was screaming at Julie, accusing her daughter of a plot to purposely run out of the medicine.
Buck had tried suggesting that Doris try some of the willow bark broth to ease her obvious pain - but the tirade of invectives that had come his way had pretty much convinced him to just stay out of the way and out of the family’s business.
He could hear Doris’s voice being raised again now though, and it made him angry. Julie had suffered so much to keep the family going, and had done so much work - it wasn’t fair that she was being blamed for things that were far beyond her control.
Despite his vow to keep clear, he couldn’t help himself. He stopped at the back of the wagon. “Julie?”
The flap lifted a moment later and she looked out, exhaustion and frustration etched on her face. “Buck, is something wrong? Will we be able to cross here?”
“I think we can ford the river here,” he answered. “I’m going to get my horse and ride across, check the riverbed.” He paused, studying her eyes. “Are you all right in there?”
She sighed and pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “You mean aside from everything being my fault?” She gave him an exasperated smile. “I’m fine, really. And I’m sure mother will be better in a day or two.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “I’ll go check the crossing now - be back shortly.”
Buck turned away as Julie ducked back into the wagon, letting the flap close. Dorothy was just catching up, driving the loose animals in front of her.
He smiled as he went to meet her. The younger girl had turned out to be very good with the stock, even keeping the stubborn pack mules in line.
Dorothy dropped to the ground as he walked toward his horse. She sighed and looked up at him. “Are we stopping here for a while?”
“Just until I check the riverbed and make sure we can ford here,” he answered, grinning at her overly theatric groan. “What’s the matter? You can’t be tired already!”
“Already?” She groaned again for effect. “My feet are going to fall off! I’ve been chasing that stupid mule all day!” she added, pointing at a brown-haired animal that was already trying to wander off.
“We’ll make camp not too far on the other side of the river,” Buck promised as he vaulted onto the horse’s back. “You’re doing a great job, you know.”
He was rewarded for those words with a big smile that made the girl’s whole face light up at the praise.
Buck turned his horse toward the river and rode down to the bank. The entry wasn’t steep, so he had little trouble urging his horse into the brown water. They moved forward slowly, especially as they approached the murkier middle area. But the riverbed remained firm all the way across, and the far bank offered a gentle slope to exit the water.
He turned around for the return trip, buoyed by what he found.
With any luck, they’d soon be across this river, and then they could rest a bit and water the animals. It would be one river crossing down . . .
With many more to go.
Fandom: The Young Riders
Characters: Buck Cross, Teaspoon, Polly, Kid, Lou, Jeremiah, Theresa
Prompt: 017 -- Brown
Word Count: 1063
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The Pony Express has ended, and the Civil War has torn the Express family apart. A few of them decide to strike out across the country to Oregon and a fresh start.
Author's Note: This is the eighteenth section of a continuing story dealing with the journey from Rock Creek, Nebraska, to the West Coast via the Oregon Trail.
They reached the first major river crossing three days later.
Buck hurried his step and caught up to the lead pair of oxen, grabbing the harness and pulling back to stop the forward progress.
He walked a bit ahead, studying the river. It was wide, but now at the beginning of July the hot weather and lack of rain had lowered the water level so that he could see the bottom several feet out.
Of course, shallow water didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be other dangers here. There could still be a drop-off in the middle that would swamp the wagon. The water there was brown, its depth hidden from plain sight by the mud. And the lazy running water could have created such a layer of mud at the bottom that the animals and wagon would get stuck.
He walked up almost to the edge of the water and crouched down, studying the ground. What he saw brought a little bit of relief to his worries. He didn’t see any sign of wagons leaving this line of the main trail to cross anywhere else. Across the river he could see stakes driven in almost directly across, and from what he could tell from a distance it looked like the only exit trails from the water were all in virtually that same spot.
And best of all, there were no fresh carcasses or signs of wreckage to indicate that the last train through had had any problems crossing.
To be honest, this was probably the part of the trip that worried him the most - at least as far as actually making the journey. Anyone could follow the deep ruts that marked the trail in most places these days. And even if they somehow wandered off the trail, his sense of direction was good and had never gotten him lost.
Well, at least not since that time when he was about four and had confidently left the village to find a bear. Hours later Red Bear had found him, cold, alone, and crying.
Vowing that would never happen again, he’d worked hard to hone his skills to survive on the land.
No, actually getting lost didn’t worry him at all. But things like river crossings did. He’d heard plenty of horror stories, repeated from travelers’ accounts of the journey across the continent. And Teaspoon had insisted they all read a book called the Prairie Traveler to prepare for this trip. The descriptions of river crossings where wagons had to be sealed and floated across, or where several teams of oxen were needed to steady the wagons against the current - those were the things that worried him.
Worried him a lot, actually.
And those crossings were still to come.
Buck stood and walked back toward the wagon. Inside, he could hear the voices of Julie and Doris Hanlon.
They’d run out of laudanum the day before, and Doris was feeling the effects of no longer having the drug in her system. Already last night she had been argumentative, refusing to eat. By this morning she was screaming at Julie, accusing her daughter of a plot to purposely run out of the medicine.
Buck had tried suggesting that Doris try some of the willow bark broth to ease her obvious pain - but the tirade of invectives that had come his way had pretty much convinced him to just stay out of the way and out of the family’s business.
He could hear Doris’s voice being raised again now though, and it made him angry. Julie had suffered so much to keep the family going, and had done so much work - it wasn’t fair that she was being blamed for things that were far beyond her control.
Despite his vow to keep clear, he couldn’t help himself. He stopped at the back of the wagon. “Julie?”
The flap lifted a moment later and she looked out, exhaustion and frustration etched on her face. “Buck, is something wrong? Will we be able to cross here?”
“I think we can ford the river here,” he answered. “I’m going to get my horse and ride across, check the riverbed.” He paused, studying her eyes. “Are you all right in there?”
She sighed and pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “You mean aside from everything being my fault?” She gave him an exasperated smile. “I’m fine, really. And I’m sure mother will be better in a day or two.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replied. “I’ll go check the crossing now - be back shortly.”
Buck turned away as Julie ducked back into the wagon, letting the flap close. Dorothy was just catching up, driving the loose animals in front of her.
He smiled as he went to meet her. The younger girl had turned out to be very good with the stock, even keeping the stubborn pack mules in line.
Dorothy dropped to the ground as he walked toward his horse. She sighed and looked up at him. “Are we stopping here for a while?”
“Just until I check the riverbed and make sure we can ford here,” he answered, grinning at her overly theatric groan. “What’s the matter? You can’t be tired already!”
“Already?” She groaned again for effect. “My feet are going to fall off! I’ve been chasing that stupid mule all day!” she added, pointing at a brown-haired animal that was already trying to wander off.
“We’ll make camp not too far on the other side of the river,” Buck promised as he vaulted onto the horse’s back. “You’re doing a great job, you know.”
He was rewarded for those words with a big smile that made the girl’s whole face light up at the praise.
Buck turned his horse toward the river and rode down to the bank. The entry wasn’t steep, so he had little trouble urging his horse into the brown water. They moved forward slowly, especially as they approached the murkier middle area. But the riverbed remained firm all the way across, and the far bank offered a gentle slope to exit the water.
He turned around for the return trip, buoyed by what he found.
With any luck, they’d soon be across this river, and then they could rest a bit and water the animals. It would be one river crossing down . . .
With many more to go.