She was certain that Dawson Clements had placed her wagon toward the end of the wagon train today so that the muddy places in the trail would be churned up the worst by the time she reached them, making her job harder.After waiting a full day after the rain, everyone voted to get going so they could reach the Kansas River ferry crossing and get it over with. The crossing could take the better part of yet another day, as wagons had to be unhitched, the entire train floated across in parts—children, animals, wagons one by one, oxen, women, men and so forth. One ferry could carry only so much.They had not even reached the ferry yet, and if her wagon, Carolyn’s wagon and the two that followed them could not get through the current mud bath they trudged, they might not even make the ferry by tonight.She switched at the oxen, shouting orders and calling the beasts by their names as it took every effort of each ox to keep the wagon moving through mud that came a good halfway up between the wheel bottom and the hub.
