I awoke with my heart racing. I turned to snuggle into Tom...only Tom wasn't there. It was just me, alone, under the wagon. I heard a wolf howling, that's what awakened me. It took me a very long time to go back to sleep. I try to protect myself by putting up things between me and the outside world. I stack wood, or layer rocks that I've found during the day. It might not save me but at least it would give me a slight chance of awakening before I'm attacked.
I'm writing now in broad daylight. I'm supposed to be eating my lunch. I can eat my lunch while I walk. That is what we do each and everyday, we walk, then we walk, and when we're sick of walking, we walk some more. It's hot now, dusty, and an annoying wind often blows the dirt directly into my face as I walk endlessly.
I have tried to repair the soles of my shoes. I used some old newspapers when holes formed. That didn't last for long. So I tried ripping up an old dress and creating pads that I put on the inside of my shoes. That worked the best, but finally the sole was so worn that the pad wouldn't stay in the shoe. Finally I took the leather tops of my shoes, I turned them upside down so that I was walking on the side of the shoe. I tied the two sides of the shoe together so that one side was on the bottom, when that wore out, I turned the last leather side to the bottom and tied it to my feet with the laces that had been in the shoes. That worked for awhile. NOW? There is no leather left. Even the rawhide ties wore out. The ground is parched with heat. My feet swelled. Then they crack open and bled. It was awful to look behind myself and see a trail of blood. Finally, my feet are as hard and parched as the leather shoes that I used to wear. I'm grateful. Having my feet so leathery helps with the pain of step after step after weary step!
Ah Tom, where are you? Are your shoes worn out? Have you signed up with some union army unit? We're from the south, but we are religiously against slavery. We believe that ALL men WERE created equal. That includes men, and women of all colors. Why should we benefit from the sweat and toil of these souls? Slavery needs to end.
It's just hard for me to embrace war. I do not believe that there is anything glorious about the action of young men fighting, wounding, and killing total strangers. If they were to meet in a social gathering they might even become friends. Instead, father is fighting his sons, brother is against brother, and the entire thing is a colossal waste of good men, horses, and life. Instead of fighting each other, these men should be working to support their families. They should be watching their children grow up, and helping those children to be loved, and strong. Old men decide that we need to fight each other. They sit in great comfortable offices and strategize. They move the men around on the battlefield as though it was a game of chess. A remarkable difference? Nobody dies in a game of chess...NOT ONE SOUL!!
There is the cowbell. That means that we walk on...and on....and on...and on! When I reach Astoria, I will ride a horse anywhere I go. I may never walk anywhere ever again!!!.
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