almost
at will. Then came Enoch Birdsall and Alonzo Webb, sober and gay,
abusing each other humorously, each in his own wagon, handling their
strung-out teams with nonchalant ease. Close to the rear of the last
wagon came the eight mules of Tom Boyd and Hank Marshall, four to a
string, followed by their horse-mounted owners; and behind them were Jim
Ogden and Zeb Houghton, each driving two mules before them.

The road was in execrable condition, its deep ruts masked by a mud as
miry as it appeared to be bottomless, and several times the great wagons
were mired so hard and fast that it took the great ox teams of Alonzo
and Enoch, hooked on in addition to the original mule teams, to pull
them out; and the emigrant wagons, drawn by over-worked oxen, gave
nearly as much trouble. The story of their progress to Council Grove
would be tiring, since it would be but little more than a recital of the
same things over and over again--the problems presented by the roads.

At Round Grove they said good-bye to the emigrants, who joined the rear
guard of their own caravan at this point. Along the so-called Narrows,
the little ridge forming the watershed between the Kansas and Osage
rivers, for a stretch extending quite some distance westward from Round
Grove, the roads were hardly more than a series of mudholes filmed over
and masked by apparently firm ground. In some of these treacherous traps
the wagons often sank to the hubs, and on two occasions the bottom of
the wagon-box rested on the mud. It was hopeless to try to pull them
out with the animals so deep in mud, and only by finding more firm
ground along the side of the trail, the use of long chains and the aid
of every draft animal in the train were the huge wagons dragged out. The
men themselves waded into the traps, buried at times almost to the
waist, and put their shoulders to wheels and wagon-boxes and pushed and
heaved and floundered; and they kept their spirits high despite the
penetrating cold of the mire. Under these conditions stops were frequent
to rest both teams and men, the "noonings" were prolonged, camp made
earlier in the evening than was usual and left later in the morning. The
tally of miles was disheartening, and to make matters worse a heavy
downpour of chilling rain fell half a day before they reached 110 Mile
Creek which, besides making everyone miserable and spoiling the cooking,
swelled the stream so much that it was crossed only with the greatest
diffi