This story was submitted by one of our Spalding cousins who has given us permission to publish it on the web.

The Spaulding Expedition
or
The Story of 8 Days In A Wagon
From Casville, Missouri

 My Dear Nellie—

            You asked me for a detailed account of our trip from Missouri to Oklahoma, and

the following is the best I can do.

            There were a great many things of interest, that we saw, that thro’ lack of time, I did not make note of in my journal, but think I can remember the most interesting.

            Please keep this as I don’t care to write it again.

By Pearl Cook

             On the morning of Oct. 4, 1907, which happened to be Friday, papa, mamma, Sid and Inez, left the “Old Red Church House,” where we had lived for 12 yrs. lacking just 3 weeks.  They shook the dust of Barry Co. Missouri from their feet that day, but I was not along during that part of the journey so cannot give you a description of it.  All I know about it is that they had a lively time with the teams all day Sunday on account of the auto’s and electric cars.  They arrived at Car Junction on Sunday afternoon about sundown and remained there until the following Wednesday morning.  I joined the party there and we started for Oklahoma about 8:30 a.m. leaving Mrs. Willey and Clara standing in the back alley waving their handkerchiefs to us.  It was a clear but cold morning and the teams stepped off at a brisk pace as they had had a few days rest and were in good spirits, like the rest of the company.  We went within sight of Le Hugh, a mining camp just out of Carl Junc. and thro’ Stringtown which is a small affair.  Next came Smithfield which is also a small place and camped for dinner.  In the p.m. we went thro’ Columbus, Kansas, having crossed the line sometime in the morning.  It is a pretty but old town, and certainly has the finest school buildings and grounds I ever saw.  Great bunches of cannas and other flowers dotted the green well kept lawns, while different places were set aside for all sorts of sports.  We saw a game of tennis in progress, and also basketball.  After  crossing the state line we took an almost direct westerly course thro’ the five S.E. counties.  We camped for the night beside a hedge and bought a gallon of milk from a woman who lived across the road and who was also going to Oklahoma this winter.  Another thing of interest to me about that camp was the throwing away of our old round bowl, which had held together so marvelously for so many years, but which fell apart that day.  We crossed Spring River that afternoon, which is a large stream at that place.

            On Thursday, the 28, we crossed the Neosho River and passed thro’ Oswego, which is also an old town.  That was the only town we went thro’ that day, but camped for the night within sight of a little town called Edna.  We camped beside a hedge with a house on each side of the road.  One man gave us a gallon of milk but we could not get butter at either place, or in fact at any of the farm houses as they nearly all separated their milk and sold the cream.  We got water for ourselves at the other man’s cistern and for the horses at his windmill.  They seemed like fine people and had such a fine and clean home.  The horses, which were tied to the hedge became frightened at a white horse and caused quite a commotion, Mollie, breaking her halter all to pieces.  This was a lovely country—great level wheat fields and stretches of prairie grass just cut and stacked.  We went about a mile, diagonally, across one of these wild prairies, and watered the teams at a slough in the middle, which was once, probably a buffalo wallow.  It made me think of what I had read of the early pioneers, and cowboys.  I could almost hear the Indian’s war whoop and see him bear down upon us on his mustang.  The farms all looked well kept and as tho’ the people were prosperous.

            Friday, a.m. the morning of the 11, we got an early start and entered Edna before there were many out.  We halted in the main street while papa bought a new halter, and a box of crackers.  The halter was to take the place of the one Mollie demolished the night before and the crackers were to help out our bread supply as it was disappearing at an alarming rate, because of the increase in our appetites, which also would have been alarming if we had taken time to notice them.  Edna is only a small town but it seemed to be alive.  A new brick building was underway close by where we halted.  We passed thro’ another little town that morning called Valeda.  We crossed the Virdigis River and camped for dinner on the outskirts of Coffeeville, the largest town we passed thro’ on our trip.  We drew up beside a man’s fine lawn and he came out, and none to politely, asked the men to feed their horses in the other alley, so as to scatter no hay or corn husks on his lawn.  I didn’t blame him in the least.  A great many loads of baled hay passed us while we were in camp.  It is a large bustling place.  Sid said, “We will probably have some here with street cars and autos and as I rode with him, wanted me to keep a close watch out behind us, so to tell him when one was coming.  We went in on the main street I think as it led straight thro’ town and by the court house, which was a fine imposing building.  The street took us also thro’ the part of residence portion of the town in which dwelt the elite of society.  Some of the finest large stone and brick houses, with such beautiful lawns!  The street was paved with brick and a car line led the whole length of it and on to Independence.  I would have enjoyed the sights much more if I had not had to keep such a sharp look out for cars and autos, which did not appear.  We saw one car and one auto.  The auto was a baby concern and made so little noise that the teams scarcely noticed it and the car passed us just as we reached a cross street, so we drew to one side and just as it passed us, a large dray went between it and us so they hardly saw it.  But I breathed freer when we were in the open country again even if we did follow the line for 2 or 3 miles.  If a car should have come along then we would, at least, have had room to be tipped over in.  Soon after leaving Coffeville, we began to see gas wells all along the road, and gas pipes on both sides for miles and miles.  Every once in awhile we could smell the gas that was escaping thro’ some leak in the pipe.  All that is to be seen at a gas well is an iron pipe sticking out of the ground some 5 or 6 ft. with a bend at the top.  I was disappointed as I expected to see something worth looking at.  We watered the horses across the river from a well, and all down the bank to the water from it, it was bare and looked greasy.  We also saw some oil wells, but were not close to them.  They very much resemble an old wooden windmill tower with the fan and wheel gone.  Altho’ we saw a great many of both gas and oil wells we never saw anyone who seemed to be near them to operate or look after them, which seemed queer to us.  That afternoon we passed by a school house out on a treeless prairie.  As we drew near they were dismissed for noon, and all came out of the house pell-mell and making lots of noise.

Some thing seemed to have happened just at that minute for we could hear them raise an awful shout and were all in a knot in front of the door.  In a minute the school ma’am came out of the door, her bangs and apron flying, and there seemed to be a discussion.  She evidently came off victorious for all the boys filed into the house and the door was shut against prying eyes.  I said “all the boys,” there was two little fellows who took to their heels around the corner and the last I saw of them they were peeking to see if the coast was clear.  I’d give a great deal to know what it was all about and how it started, but most of all how it ended.  Wouldn’t you?  We passed a school house every few miles and a great many of them had a stable to put the horses in that were rode or drove to school.  At one place we saw a little jinny and a cart to match.  It must have been a stunning turn out.  At another place (a nice stone school house) they were all out at play.  They were all small but one man who was grown, and a girl, who was grown, also.  I wondered if the girl was the teacher and the boy like some we have known, or vice versa, or if they were both scholars and like some others we have known.  “I wonder Oh!  I wonder!”  But who can every enlighten me?  One sees so many curious sight, and things they will remember and think about as long as they live, when out of such a trip.  We went thro’ another little town called Tyro that p.m.  We had quite a little sand to pull thro’ that day which made it hard on the horses.  We camped that night upon a hill beside a wire fence.  There was no house in sight so we made a dry camp, as we had given the teams a drink at a camp yard in Tyro.  That is, we did not have any water for ourselves, except what we could carry in a gallon jug, which we kept filled for such emergencies.  There was a good sized orchard across the fence from where we camped and Sid discovered an old dugout in pretty good preservation.  I would have gone to see it but the Spanish needles were too thick.  The dugout had a chimney, laid from the ground, made of one gallon crocks with the bottom knocked out.  Some man had probably started house keeping there, and at the time was contented with his dwelling and tho’t it was good enough for any man.  Just before we camped we passed one of the largest farm houses I nearly ever saw and I wondered if the same man built both.  I would almost prefer the dugout to the mansion tho’ for it had such a dirty, run down at the heel look.  That was the first time we had not had a place by a hedge and we were worried about tying the horses to the wire, so long in the night when it began to jingle it didn’t take long to wake me and I wasn’t much longer waking the others.  Sid got up and found that Kit had cut her right hind leg.  Later in the night Billy got loose and helped himself to the feed.  It was a rather exciting night. 

            Saturday, the 12, Mamma, Inez, and I started on ahead afoot, as we sometimes did, because we could get our dishes packed and be ready to start before the men would get hitched up.  It was such glorious weather, and cold enough in the early morning so it was more comfortable walking that riding.  We were soon warm enough as the sand was about 3 inches deep.  I soon learned why it was so hard for the horses.  While we were walking we passed a nice looking place and the name on the mailbox was Roper.  We wondered if it could possibly be the family we used to know as they went to Kansas.  Early in the morning we came in sight of what looked like the black roof of a round building.  We kept it in sight for several miles and finally we came in sight of 3 or 3 more.  We watered the horses at a little hole beside the road and shortly after we came to a fork in the road.  As we were angling across the prairie we did not know which to take and of course took the wrong one.  But we only went about ½ mile as we ran into the field where the “round buildings” were.  They were oil tanks and while papa was making inquiries of some workmen we had a splendid opportunity to “see things.”  The tanks are made of sheets of iron more than 6 ft. square and are bolted together with red hot rivets that are driven by sledge hammers.  A rivet is put in place and 2 men, one on each side begin to strike it alternately.  It takes a great deal longer to drive one than I supposed it would, and such an awful uproar.  I don’t wonder that men become deaf in a short time.  There are two rows of the rivets to each seam.  The tank is about 50 ft. in diameter and is 30 or 40 ft. high.  Each one sets in a circular excavation with a dike around it which is suppose to hold the oil if the tank were to burst.  I am just guessing at the dimensions or rather taking Sid’s estimate of their size.  Each one was numbered and as we went up on higher ground Sid said, “I do believe there are at least 50 or 75 of them.”  Of course we tried to keep count but it was impossible as they seemed to multiply on every turn we would make.  Each was numbered in big white numbers 2 ft. tall and the highest number was over 600, but I have forgotten just the exact number.  Of course we may not have seen the largest number then, as they covered probably 1 ½ or 2 miles square and we went straight thro’ them.  They were enclosed like farms by barb wire fences, and signs were up “No shooting allowed on Tank Farm.”  It seemed to me, that if all those tanks were full of oil, that there would be enough to last the U.S. for years.  I am no judge, tho’.  The ground was given up to the tanks and they were about as thick as they could be handily, and more in all stages of construction.  The excavation was made first and the place where the tank was to set was smoothed until it looked, as the mud houses we used to make, used to after we had plastered it, by wetting a knife and smoothing it out.  It (the place for the tank) would have made a lovely croquet ground.  I believe that the oil country was the most interesting thing we saw.  And there was plenty of smell to go with it around those tanks.  It was a stinking place and all the pools and streams were covered with a kind of scum that was changeable in color like it is when you put a little kerosene on some water.  I whish I could have “captured a man,” to use one of Rose Steel’s expressions, who knew the answers to all the questions I wanted to ask someone.  But all the people I had a chance to talk to, had just as many questions of their own to propound to someone else.  This was not a very nice looking country as it was quite hilly and covered in some places with scrub oak and black jack timber, but was not very strong, but the sand made up for that.  One hollow we crossed had got so bad that someone had covered the road several inches deep with straw making a great improvement.  As we entered Caney, we saw some oil refineries that were just being built.  They were long buildings and seemed to be nearly all chimney.  We might have passed by the place where that well burned so long but we did not know it if we did.  Niotaze, a village we passed thro’ just before dinner time, is a typical Kansas town, with its sandy streets, thro’ which the wind was whistling at a great rate the day we passed thro’.  We stopped and had dinner in a vacant lot, and while we were preparing the potatoes, another family consisting of a man and woman and 2 little girls drove up and camped beside us.  Of course we exchanged gossip, and as they were going almost the way we had come, and we wanted to go as far as Arkansas City on the road they had come, we each told of good places to camp and where water might be had.  His name was Brown and has was going to Missouri to take charge of the Raleigh medicine route in the county to which he was going.  They had some chickens along too.  They were “White Crested Black Polish.”  The woman said they came from Poland.  That afternoon we went thro’ Sedan,  which was a nice town of good size and stopped for night 1 ½ miles west of it, on the banks of a good sized creek at a place where a great many people had camped, to judge by the signs.  It was a fine place and nothing worse happened then except two chickens making their escape from their box, but they were easily caught, as they would not go far away.

             Sunday, the 13, was a glorious day and Sid and we girls had a fine time all morning telling funny stories and watching people go to S. S. and church.  We passed thro’ Uaunita just at meeting time and the people at the church stared as tho’ they had never seen a covered wagon before.  Mercy!  What awful—yes simply awful roads we had.  It would be hard to describe them, but I will do my best, after a while.  But I am not just ready to tell about them yet.  We had just been inquiring the road of a man and had just started when “Chug-chug” came an auto behind us.  It was almost up with us before we knew it was coming, so the mules did not have time to cut much of a shine.  I don’t see how an automobile could hardly get over some of the roads we went over later.  We stopped at the next house and as we could get plenty of water there, we camped for dinner.  It was a nice place except that we had to keep 3 or 4 half grown pigs run away from the table, as they seemed as hungry as we were.  While we were getting ready to eat a woman came to the door and asked us if we didn’t want to come in and warm.  We said, “No, we were not cold, but if we might we would like to heat a little water, as the wind blew a little too hard to light our oil stove.”  She said she didn’t have a fire in the kitchen but could build one for us in a minute.  Of course we said not to do it.  Sid said to me, “She has traveled this way herself sometime, I know.”  While the men greased the wagon after dinner, we went in and combed our hair in the house and had quite a visit.  She told us that they came from Guthrie in a wagon and had an old woman 81 yrs. old along.  I think she was his mother.  She said some places they stopped the people wouldn’t let that old woman go in and warm, and ever since she had always tried to be kind to all travelers.  I asked for some old papers to wrap up things with and she gave me quite a lot.  I read some of them to the rest as we rode along.  I have forgotten their names but will not forget them right away, even if they did seem to be pretty hard up.  Shortly after dinner we went thro’ the edge of Cedar Vale.  I don’t know much about it except that it was or seemed to be set perfectly full of cedars.  So was every farmyard for miles around.  Inez counted over 60 in one yard.  The house set away back from the road on a knoll, and the yard which was a large one was simply set full.  I think by the looks that some big person must have had that for his summer place.  After leaving Cedar Vale, we crossed a creek and after going a short ways decided we were on the wrong road and had to go back about a quarter or morel.  After we had crossed the creek again at another ford the fun began, as we had got to the foot of what is called the “Flint Hills,” and they must be crossed as they lay between us and Oklahoma.  They were a little different from the hills we crossed in the Indian Ter. when we went to Mo. for they were covered with timber, but these were nearly all prairie and covered with Buffalo grass.  We would climb one hill that would

be just one ledge of rock after another until we reached the top, and then what a fine view as we could get.  But there was nothing to see on any side except more ledges of rock.  Instead of being big and little hills all mixed up as it is in Mo. it was more like a vast prairie with great wide, deep gulches washed out and then the sides covered with grass, except where the ledges or rock cropped out.  And a ledge would run the whole length of one of the gulches, and there would always be one to match it on the other side of the gully.  We had to cross those gullies, so it was just down one side and up the other.  That was a wild and desolate looking country, and all that after noon.  I kept thinking of “Buffalo Bill” and that book we read last summer.  I could almost see him as he would look with such a setting.  There were very few houses, but it was all under good wire fences.  Large pastures, I suppose, altho’, I did not see many cattle.  One house we saw was a large two story one, and the gable end was shingled, as you see so many, with fancy shaped shingles.  His were just made in diamonds and the peculiar part was the way they were painted.  There were dark red and while with the red for the main color and the white just dropped on at random, as it seemed to me at first sight; but on looking closer they formed a name, John Pate, and the date.  It was a curiosity.  From there on we saw more stone-houses, barns, and out buildings and fences than I saw in all the 12 yrs. we dwelled in the stony regions of Barry Co.  A little farther on, everything was made of stone, it was easier to get than anything else I suppose.  They were not fling but a kind of sand and limestone, that could be quarried easily as they cropped out all along the sides of the hills in ledges.  That night we camped beside a hedge, with a cornfield on the other side of the road.  We bought ½ gal. of milk from the woman who lived close and had to pay full price (5 cents per qt.) for it.  She said we were passed the worst of the Hills and so we were rejoicing that night. 

            Monday, the 14, was rather cloudy in the morning and we made as good time as we could for fear it would rain and spoil the fine roads.  We went thro’ a town called Otto that looked as though it must be the tail end of a Kansas boom, for it looked pretty well deserted.  The roads were good again and so we soon came to Maple City, a town that must have been named in irony, as there were no maples in sight, and the “city” was also almost invisible.  Nothing of importance occurred that morn. except that Sid was beginning to regain his old time lightness of manner, which had seemed to be lacking, in some degree, since we left Car Junction.  That day at noon we camped just before crossing a bridge across a good sized stream.  There were five other teams camped at the same place.  It was so windy that we did not try to light the oil stove, but ate a cold “snack.”  The other travelers had started of Oklahoma too.  We came to Arkansas City that p.m. about 4 o’clock, and saw the racetracks and fair grounds.  We followed a street for a number of blocks that had a car line under construction as we thought, as we could not see the wire.  But on coming to the Main St. we saw a car on a line just like the one we had been following, but instead of being propelled by electricity it was drawn by a span of little mules.  We did not go to the main part of town, but it is not as large a place as I supposed it to be and is dirty besides.  Papa went to the Post Office and got a letter from Mabel and Ned, but did not read it until we stopped for the night.  Soon after leaving the City we crossed the Arkansas River on a bridge which was about 200 yds. long.  It was a muddy, red looking stream, but it was about ½ sand bars.  I mean ½ the width was sand.  We drove off road a few yds. so we could be on the sheltered side of a hedge.  It was a fine place as there was a school house on the other side of the road, with a pump in the yard.  That meant plenty of good water for us and the horses.  The teacher (a girl about 16) and a little boy stayed at the school house until after sundown.  I don’t see what she could have been doing all that time.  The yard had two rows of trees all round it, for beauty as well as a wind break, I suppose.  There were all kinds of fruit trees as well as forestry.  I think they had gas there too, as a pipe ran to the house from the road.  Below where we were a short ways, the railroad made a deep cut and wagon road crossed it on a bridge.  We went to the bridge, and watched a steam shovel at work, quite a ways down the track, as it cut away the side of the hill and loaded it into cars.  I don’t know what they were going to do with it, only Sid said they were going to ship the dirt North.  He went down there where they were at work.  While we were on the bridge we saw a freight train come around the bend.  We stood and watched it and it was so far away that we could see the steam for all four toots (when they whistled for a crossing) before we heard the first one.  Of course we were leaning over the railing looking with all our might and when they got  almost to us papa saw the engineer nod to the fire man, and of course they tried to give us a scare, by whistling directly below us.  I was looking for something of the sort so did not jump, but you should have seen Inez!  There was a brakeman, sitting tailor fashion, on top of one of the cars, and he gave me a wink from one corner of his eye as he passed.  It reminded me of St. Louis.  After we got back to camp we had supper and read Ned’s letter.  Just before dark another covered wagon, containing 2 men, 1 woman, and a poodle, with two hounds following, camped a little ways from us.  They said they were going to Kay Co. Oklahoma and borrowed some matches’ of us.  After it grew dark, we all got in the wagon, lit the lantern and were going to re-read our letter.  I had got about ½ thro’, when we began to hear an unusual stir at the other camp.  It seemed to be a misunderstanding between the men, with the woman to help things along, and as near as we could gather from what we heard the poodle was the cause.  It didn’t take long for the men to get to blows and I never did and hope I never again hear such language.  We blew out our lantern and waited to see what was coming.  The men were in the road and their fight must have been hot and furious for we could hear them hit one another as plain as could be.  Inez and I were scared pretty nearly to death, for when one of the men would run, he would come right down toward our wagon, and we knew they had been drinking, and so didn’t know what idea might enter their heads.  We could hear, between the blows and curses, one accuse the other of “drinking all the alcohol” and the woman saying, “I’ll holler!  I’ll holler if you don’t quit.  Murder!”  I guess I must have been born a coward, for I never was as badly frightened in my life, and even now, just writing about it makes me have a creepy feeling up my back.  As the fracas did not seem to abate, we decided to find another place with better company in which to spend the night, so we piled the things into the wagon anyway to get them in and started as quietly as possible.  But we did not, in all the trip, get ready to start in as short a time, and be it said to our credit that we did not lose a single thing in our hurry.  I even tho’t of the towels, which mama had washed and hung on the hedge to dry.  It was a beautiful, moonlight night, and we drove about 2 miles before camping again.  But as that was the last hedge before we turned South into Okla. we decided to stop, especially as we could see a big house thru the hedge, and we were in the right mood to stop as close to a dwelling as possible.  We had been following the railroad all the time and once had stopped and unhitched as we saw a train coming toward us and we were afraid the horses might be afraid of the headlight and upset us.  The mules were the only ones that seemed to pay any attention to it, and it was a good thing they were not fastened to the wagon.  While the men were hitching up a man came by in a buggy and papa told him about our late experiences with our neighbors, so if anything should have happened, he would know how it came about.  After we camped for the second time that night we could look across the prairie to the S. E. and see the lights at the Indian school at Chilocco, Okla. and before 9 o’clock we heard the bugler play “Taps.”  It sounded lovely, and made me think of that story in the Companion.  The rest finally went to sleep but I was so “tumbled up and down in my mind” that I only dozed off 2 or 3 times all night long.  But everything must have an end, so finally daylight came and thus ended the longest and most strenuous night I ever spent.  There was one thing funny about it tho’ and that was the next morning we found that we had camped beside a great big 2 story stone house, but it was deserted and all the doors and windows were gone.  There was something nice about it, too, for I discovered that my ride in the night changed the directions for me, so that for the first time in over twelve years South was in the right place. 

            Tuesday, the 15, began by looking very cloudy and rainy, but it cleared off later in the day.  We crossed the Kansas line at the same place we crossed it before and followed as near as we could the same route clear to Ponca, but had to go on section lines instead of angling across the prairie as we did then.  We left Chicocco about a mile to the right or west of us, but we could see the school buildings nicely.  Some trees had been set out on both sides of the road, from the road on which we clear to the school.  It will be a lovely street some day.  I think the land belongs to the school.  The country looks much different from what it did 12 yrs. ago.  That new look has gone and the farms are well kept with large nice painted houses.  I tried to buy some milk at one place but they separated it as nearly every one does and fed the milk to the pigs.  It was the prettiest place I think that I saw on all my trip.  It had a low-trimmed hedge around it, and its lawns were so clean and clipped so close.  The women were out helping fan out some seed wheat.  We went thro’ New Kirk and Kildare in the A.M. but instead of the towns of tents and covered wagons, that we saw before they are good sized cities, with fine business blocks and dwellings.  I got so sleepy during the morning that I crawled back on the bed and took a nap and I crawled out again, instead of going South as we were before, it seemed to me that we were going North, and I have been turned around that way ever since.  Worse than used to be.  The roads were so fine that we made nearly 20 mi. before stopping at noon.  Camped for dinner with a cornfield on one side and the railroad on the other.  There was no house within sight so we had to rely on our jug for water.  Go to Ponca City shortly after noon, and stopped on the out skirts and bought 2 melons for 5 cents and inquired about Billy Stevenson’s.  She knew them but did not know where they were.  We saw our first Indians here and of course they were a curiosity, but they are getting more like the whites than they were, altho’ they still wear their blankets and moccasins.  After leaving Ponca City we had to follow the river to Ponca Agency, 2 miles away.  It was sandy all the way and as we tried to keep up with a team so we could see them ford Salt Fork, it was pretty hard on the teams.  Ant then they turned and went across by a private road and didn’t help us any after all.  While we were waiting an old Indian and young Negro-Indian came by with a load of corn.  The young one told us the way for the man could not talk our language.  That young man had the most beautifully shaped hands I ever saw.  There was a fine school building at the Agency for the Indians, with its basketball grounds and everything that the paleface has.  It was set back among the trees and was a beautiful place.  We finally came to the Salt Ford and altho’ the teams were very tired when it was our time we decided to cross, and camp on the other side, so we would be on the right side of the stream if it should rain, as it looked as tho’ it might do.  Papa was ahead with Billy and Fanny and the spring wagon and so he drove in first.  We waited before we started thro’ to see how he got across.  The river was quite wide and a dirty red in color but was not very deep.  Papa made it across, all right and we started in.  I tell you, my heart began to sink and at the same time it seemed to be in close proximity to my windpipe.  The wagon was heavy and the mules had had a hard day, but they did nobly.  How they did hump their backs and pull!  I began to think that they would have to stop and rest, which we did not dare to do, because of the quick sand, but Sid used his “persuader” and so we reached the other bank in safety.  We were truly glad when that was passed, as we had been dreading it ever since starting.  The ford is ¼ mi. down stream from where we crossed before.  They have a ferry but it looked pretty shaky.  We drove a short ways and then opened a wire fence and camped just inside of a pasture.  There was a house across the road and up quite a hill where Sid went to get some water.  The men were making molasses and when Sid said he had helped a great deal at that kind of work they wanted to know if we were from Mo. just like that was the only place where molasses was made.  We had to finish supper in a hurry as it began to sprinkle and was soon raining hard.  As I had not slept the night before I was ready to lay still, even if there was a hole that allowed the raindrops to patter upon my uncovered head.  There seemed to be several just such places and how it did rain!  And, worse still, how the cover leaked!  I slept most of the night just the same.  As there was nothing but a wire fence to tie the horses to, Papa stretched a line from a post to the wagon wheel and tied the horses to that.  The wind began to blow quite hard after awhile and we got afraid that the wagon might tip over on them and then what a mix-up there would have been.  So finally Sid crawled out and wrapping his yellow slicker about him like an Indian blanket he tied the horses to a post apiece.  That was another strenuous night, but I rested well.

            Wednesday, the 16 of Oct., was rainy and cold in the A.M. so we did not get up until after daylight as we knew it would be too slippery for the horses to travel until they had been sharp shod as the mud here is as slick as ice.  After we had got breakfast in the wagon, and while the men were shoeing the “animals” (to quote Uncle Sooter), mamma, Inez and I went up and called on our Mo. neighbors.  She was a nice little woman, about 30 and had two children.  She felt so bad because they did not have us come up there to spend the night, but did not think of until it was raining and we would get as wet going to the house as we would to stay in the wagon.  They came from Cedar Co. Mo. in a wagon and so knew about that mode of travel.  Inez saw her first jack rabbit there, as they had one as a pet.  Their names were Strader.  About 10:30 Sid came up to the house and said “Come on, we’re ready to start for Stillwater,” so we started, altho’ it was still raining some and kept it up all A.M.  The roads were terribly slick until we got into the reservations where they were nearly all prairie, and then we could get out on the grass.  It was a good thing we had the shoes along for we would have had to have stayed there until some could have been obtained if we hadn’t and even with them the horses slipped pretty bad.  We camped for dinner with sight of the Ote Agency in a 3 cornered patch of grass made by three roads.  That morning while the men were shoeing the horses a man came by with a spring wagon and span of mules.  He said he was going to Stillwater as that was his home, so when we started we just followed his tracks which were easy to trace as we were the first ones over the road after him.  We followed those mules’ tracks all day and when we would be in doubt about the road we would get out and hunt for those tracks.  We had ought to see him and give him our heart felt thanks for so safely escorting us “thro’ the route of those reservations.”  The Ote Agency also has a big school but it isn’t as nice as the Ponca’s.  All the afternoon we traveled thro’ a big ranch, past big fields that had had wheat in them and by one cotton field nearly a mile long.  We saw our first field of cotton that day but did not know what it was until Sid told us, as it was either so late that the boles had not opened or else it had just been picked.  A short distance away it resembles a great field of cockleburs more than anything else I can think of.  That night we camped by the only house we had some directly by since dinner.  He was a regular mountaineer, with a lot of children, and was going to the mountains of Ark.  We tied the horses in his stable and all slept soundly but waked early as we wanted to make it to Stillwater if it was possible that day.  It was only 25 miles or less and good roads.

            Thursday, the 17, or the last day of our journey begun in a rather undecided way, as to the weather.  We did not get a warm breakfast, as we were in such a hurry, but ate some crackers, and anything else handy, and got started before sunrise.  We had camped on the edge of Greasy Creek and so the men went down and looked at the ford and rode across and opened a gate which was on the very top of the bank, so that we would have had to stop on the bank while it was being opened—a thing which would have been impossible, as the bank was very steep and slippery.  They came back and hitched up but papa put his team on the wagon, as the mules only had shoes for their front feet and so couldn’t pull as much as usual.  We drove to the crossing and it did look gruesome I’ll admit as it was a kind of wash out for a road—very sideling and steep and then up a sharp pitch on the other side.  I was in the wagon and so of course went with the first load.  When we were in about the middle we went over something that must have been a log, but old Fanny just waded right thro’ and we reached the top “pretty badly disfigured, but still in the ring.”  Sid got about half way down the bank when papa had him stop, and wait till we crossed, which was no easy matter, as the mules could hardly be made to stand still if they tho’t the other team was leaving them behind, but mamma got out and held them down till papa could unhitch and ride Fanny across with the doubletrees off from the wagon as he was sure those on the hack would break.  There was mud, as well as that log or obstruction of some kind in the bottom that made it hard to get thro’.  Mamma got on behind papa and came across that way, so we were all safe once more and had the comfort of knowing that all the rest of the streams would be bridged, as we only lacked five miles of being out of the reservations and into white men’s country.  It seemed to be a steady climb to the reservation line, for after mounting one slope we would come to another.  We had been on the road sometime before Old Sol put in an appearance and then he did not seem to approve of our early rising, for he was very reluctant to give us the benefit of the rays from his smiling countenance, so we had to walk to keep warm.  But I did not mind as it was glorious walking.  It took us 2 hours to cover those 5 miles on account of the roads.  The nice houses and well kept farms looked good to us after leaving the red man’s territory.  Just after leaving that we crossed Big Bear River on a nice iron bridge.  It is a good-sized stream at that place.  Cotton fields were to be seen on all sides, with their cotton wagons standing close by with the tongue propped up, so that a pair of scales can be hung on the end of it.  As each picker brings his cotton to the wagon it is weighed and there emptied into the wagon, which usually has 4 or 5 boxes on it.  When it is nearly full someone gets in and begins to tread it down and apparently as much more can be put in.  About 1500 is a load.  We stopped beside the road in a sheltered place caused by a bend in the creek, along which some trees and bushes, and had our dinner.  As we were only 7 miles North of Stillwater we were in pretty good spirits and took plenty of time to wash (something which sometimes had to be neglected awfully) and mamma and Inez combed their hair but I was afraid to tackle mine because the wind was blowing pretty strong.  It had not rained down this way so the roads were not slippery, but they were hilly and rough.  They seemed to grow worse until we got nearly to Stillwater.  The soil is bright red and sandy, but seems to raise good cotton.  We came into town by the college and got to see all the buildings including the stables where they say they have as fine stock of all kinds as is to be seen anywhere.  After stopping to get some feed of a man named Jimmy John, we headed for Ned’s which was only a mile away and a good road.  We (Sid, Inez and I—and the mules) took the lead, now, as Sid knew the way and seemed to be in a hurry.  Oh! Those mules!  As they couldn’t see the other team they thought they were lost and of all the braying I ever heard they did it.  First Maud—then Mollie—then both together.  It was trying on our nerves but amusing to spectators.  We crossed the Twin Bridges, went by the cemetery and turned the corner on a round trot and on a lope some of the way.  Mabel and George saw us a full ½ mi. away and were waiting in the yard when we drove up, a good ¼ mi. ahead of the other wagon, which came at a slower and more dignified pace.  Ned soon came from the field to welcome us, and thus ended “The Spaulding Expedition of 1907.”

 Appendix

Here are a few things that I forgot to tell about at the right time, so will add them now.

            On Friday night, after we had camped, and a few minutes before dark, two buggies passed us.  The first contained a man, and beside him was something that resembled a child 10 or 12 yrs. old, but it must have been abase viol covered with a sack, and set up beside him.  It had a dusting cap where its head should be—hence the resemblance to a child.  His buggy was built out behind a great deal as we had our spring wagon, and was just loaded to the limit, both in front and behind.  Following close after him there was another buggy with a woman driving.  She had a little girl about 10 yr. with her.  They went by on a good round trot and we tho’t from their appearance they must have a show of some kind.  The next night after we had camped they drove by us again.  We had passed them sometime during the day, but don’t know where.  As they went by they smiled pleasantly and we exchanged greetings.  That was on Sat. night, and the next morning we passed them a few minutes after we left camp, as they had only gone a few rods around the bend of the creek and camped too.  They were hardly ready to start so we said “Good morning” and passed on, but we hadn’t gone but a few miles before, they drove around us and away they went.  We had got by this time so we felt like old acquaintances and would speak quite sociably.  As they passed we noticed that one of the front buggy’s hind wheels was pretty weak and it wobbled quite badly.  We made the remark then, that he would have trouble with that when he struck the Flint Hills.  It was nearly noon when we overtook them again.  They had drawn outside of the road and the man had a piece of wire and was trying to strengthen that wheel.  Papa asked them where they were going.  He said to “Enid Okla., and you?  “To Stillwater.”  The woman and I exchanged a few pleasantries and then we passed on.  We did not see them again but I have often wondered if they ever reached Enid.  I liked their appearance and would have liked them for traveling companions I think.

            We stopped Sunday morning at a farmhouse and bought a gallon of milk and papa had quite a chat with the man.  He was a queer old chap, and among other things he said was “That it was 43 mi. to Arkansas City, according to the men who rode there on a ‘icycle.” 

            Sunday afternoon, just before we came to the town of Cedarvale, and as we passed a farmhouse, a man hurried out of the gate and overtaking us, climbed on the wagon which happened to be behind.  He asked all the usual questions about where we were from, where we were going and how long we would be on the road, etc. etc.  Sid said in an aside to me “He is an old widower, I know.”  After he had exhausted himself telling about his 2 yr. old colt that he had refused $500 for, and bragged up our teams by saying that he told the man at that house that he knew we were from Mo. because no one in Kansas ever had such good horses and mules as we had, he changed the subject by saying that he would think we girls would get dreadfully tired of riding so much.  Sid winked his “off eye” and nudged saying below his breath, “Here’s the chance for you to rest up a while.”  I could hardly keep my face straight.  He looked and acted just like Mr. Oliver at Carl Junction.

            Papa inquired at the place we ate dinner on Sun. if he could get some hay in Cedarvale.  “No, you can’t buy 5 cents worth of anything in Cedarvale on Sunday.  The “Lid” is on there, and on tight too.”  I said good for them, altho’ it was a little hard on us, but we did not suffer and could have been provided for if we had taken a little forethought.

            Just before noon on the last day we were out, we called a halt while papa went to a house, quite a ways from the road, and behind a lot of trees, to get some milk for dinner.  As Elsie Mutrux would say “He taused quite a tommotion,” to judge by the sounds which arose upon his approach.  It sounded like he had disturbed at least a half dozen dogs, but it might only have been one.  You can’t always tell by the noise that is made.  We saw, by the mail box that the man’s name was Jobbers!  Terrible!  Isn’t it?  Said that if he was pa and that dog bit him he would make him think his name was Jabbers, that is, if he could find a stick.  We mailed you a letter there for the mail man came by while we were waiting and so we bought a stamped envelope and sent you a letter from myself and enclosed the one we had got from Ned and Mabel.

            One of the prettiest as well as interesting sights we saw were two herds of sheep.  They were grazing on the prairie grass in one of the reservations.  I don’t know just how many were in the first bunch, but all of 10,000 I should think as the last one had 14,000 and did not seem so much larger than the first either.  They were white Merinoes, with now and then a black one to remind you of the old saying that there is always one black sheep in the flock.  They were all headed one way and were traveling so rapidly that it didn’t seem possible they could be grazing.  Each herd had just one man to look after it.  I would think it would be awfully lonely work, as they wouldn’t see many people except an Indian now and then, for that road cannot be traveled much.  I know because when we camped for night, we stopped at the same place that the man, we followed, with the mules, ate his dinner, and no one had been over the road besides ourselves all that day.

            We also saw some of the old Texas cattle with horns 3 or 4 ft. long.  At least they looked that long to me.  They were few in numbers tho’ and we saw the most of the white faced cattle.  I feel sorry for the poor Indians.  To be sure they have some of the finest land we saw, but what is that compared with what they lost?  

Finis.

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