able to comfort and aid under any circumstances. Martha’s quiet manner of teaching gave Clarinda confidence. She felt that this day’s lesson was a valuable one.
Clarinda and Davey spotted the successful hunters returning and rushed to greet them with the news of Ben’s arrival. William was pleased to learn he had a new son.
Two nice bucks were soon dressed and added to the store of meat. The venison was cut into long thin strips and hung to dry in the smokehouse along with several hams that had been placed there. Salt for curing was rubbed into the meat. Clarinda and Davey were trusted to keep the hickory logs burning. The smoke served to preserve the meat, as well as give it a rich, sweet flavor.
Clarinda took on the job of shepherding the children. She dearly loved playing teacher to Rebecca’s rowdy bunch. Davey was a mischievous boy, and kept her on her toes. He chafed at having to mind his young aunt. However, his siblings, six-yearold Mary and two-year-old Will were Clarinda’s willing slaves. She invented games to help them learn the letters of the alphabet and their numbers.
Using bits of white rock from the creek bed, they traced figures and letters onto the smooth flagstones of the fireplace. These marks washed off easily, making the hearth an excellent place to hold classes.
Seeing to baby Ben’s needs while the other women sewed kept Clarinda busy. She rocked him to sleep in the cane-bottomed rocking chair her Pa had made. Sometimes she carried Ben around on her back in a papoose cradle William had bartered for, by trading some bright-colored cloth to a friendly Cherokee squaw.
Christmas came and the Allingtons celebrated the day with friends and neighbors. Martha used the blue flowered dishes with the gold rims for the last time before packing them for the move west.
In January the men readied the wagons, loading tools and implements they would need. Plows for turning the soil were valued possessions and they stored them carefully. They tied hoes, rakes and shovels to the sides of the wagon beds. Saws and axes for felling trees were put inside the wagons, along with hammers and nails for the building of barns and homes.
Martha supervised the loading of the heavy blacksmith’s anvil her Jacob had prized. His skillful mastery of the smithy’s trade had paid for food and shelter more than once.
Although some things were sold or discarded, they were taking as much as the wagons could carry. Each had a special request. Nancy and Sarah insisted on a mirror, copper washbasin and linens. Jake packed his books. John, who loved to hunt was taking his two hounds, Boone and Tiger. Jonathan told Clarinda he would tie Old Beauty to the back of one wagon. They would have fresh milk on the trail. The new calf could run free alongside her.
Clarinda learned another use for the lye soap she helped her Ma make. Martha placed the bars of soap in with the household goods. The strong, potent smell of lye repelled mice and insects. They sealed dried fruit and nuts in covered jars. Beans, corn and peas, enough to plant new crops, were among their most precious cargo.
Popcorn was a family favorite. Clarinda begged William to take some, so she could plant it herself in Kentucky. William learned he could get popcorn seed from a plantation owner in the next county. He took Clarinda along to make the purchase. The old gentleman seemed happy to oblige the young girl when she told him why she wanted the seed. Leaning on his cane, he remarked that it seemed everyone in Virginia was going to hell or Kentucky.
It would be time to plant potatoes when they reached Morgan’s place, so Jonathan prepared several bags for that purpose. He planned to carry them in a safe niche underneath the wagon’s seat.
Many nights were spent gathered around the table going over maps. The captain at the fort passed along the latest frontier news when they bought last minute supplies. The time passed quickly, and soon they were ready for the trail. William favored following the same path Daniel Boone had blazed, known as the Warrior’s Path or the Wilderness Road. This narrow trail led over the Appalachians through the Cumberland Gap, to the mouth of the Scioto River, thus southwest into Kentucky.
On one last trip to the fort, David met a man named Peter Cutright. The Cutrights were filling their wagons with goods, preparing to traverse the Wilderness Road in early spring. The two men talked, discussing their plans. They soon decided it would be beneficial if they teamed up and traveled the distance together. There would be more manpower if they ran into swollen streams difficult to cross, or encountered downed trees that had fallen on the trail during the winter storms.
They felt too, that hostile Indians were not likely to attack a large caravan. Even if they ran into snow or other bad weather, David believed it was possible to cover the three hundred or so miles in thirty days or less.
CHAPTER II
Early February 1791—The Journey Begins
A January thaw turned the wagon road into mire. Days dragged by while the Allingtons waited for a break in the weather. Near the first of February the sun came out. A south wind dried up the bogs and ruts left by others, too anxious to wait out the winter storms.
The day finally dawned when David was confident winter was past. “It’s time to go Ma,” he said. “The birds are singing. That’s a good sign. We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
The wagons lined up single file. William took the lead. “With luck we will reach the Cutright camp in two days,” he called back to the others.
When they rolled past the last section of rail fence, Martha turned to look back. Not toward the home she had come to love, but to impress upon her memory the picturesque grove of maples shading the spot where her Jacob lay. Alone and unmarked, his grave would soon be indiscernible, as the family had agreed it should be.
Rebecca’s children were thrilled with this new adventure. They stuck their heads in and out of the wagon flap, making faces at Clarinda and Martha seated on Jonathan’s wagon, second in line. David, who had Nancy and Sarah aboard came next. Jake, John and the hounds, with Old Beauty in tow brought up the rear. The stout calf that Clarinda called Cedric, trotted along beside his mother as if born to the trail.
Rebecca, nursing Ben, rocking and swaying with the motion of the wagon, began to sing:
I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger
A-trav’lin through this world of woe,
But there’s no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright world to which I go.
I’m goin’ there to see my mother;
I’m goin’ there, no more to roam.
I’m just a-goin’ over Jordan.
I’m just a-goin’ over home.
My father lived and died a farmer
A-reapin’ less than he did sow.
And now I follow in his footsteps
A-knowing less than he did know.
Soon the whole group was singing, jaunty and jubilant to be on their way, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead. The miles jounced by. Martha and Clarinda talked about the new country they were going to see, and how they would draw closer to Kentucky each day, as the wagons maintained their westward course.
Clarinda’s excitement was contagious. Spirits were high, and without mishap they reached the rendezvous point where the Cutright party was camped.
William set the pace, so the wagons covered up to ten miles each day. Soon they were surrounded by vast forest. There was an abundance of game. The camp had fresh meat every night, thanks to John and his hounds.
By the second week they were seasoned to the trail, setting up and breaking camp in record time. The higher elevation brought cold temperatures. The men took turns driving while the women and children walked or ran alongside the wagons to keep warm. This also eased the load on the horses so they made good time. Each night