What happened, Papa?” Jemma whispered as a broken down wagon came into view. “Was it the injuns?” Jemma had heard rumors about Indians who attacked wagon trains, even though the adults tried to hide that reality from the children.

“No,” Papa assured her, hoping he wasn’t lying to his oldest daughter. “I’m sure they were with a train like us. And they must’ve had to leave the wagon behind when the wheel busted. No way to fix it up on the trail like this. Probably just a supply wagon anyway.”

“But where’d the people go?” Jemma asked. “Did they have to walk to Oregon?”

Papa smiled. His girl was always full of questions and the sight of an old wagon just sitting alone in the wilderness was a mystery she just had to solve. “I’m sure the family that was in that wagon just joined up with another family and rode in their wagon. People has to help each other out on the trails like this. The train wouldn’t have moved off without them. It’s dangerous to travel alone.”

“Why not, Papa?” Jemma asked.

“Tain’t safe is all. We have to cross the mountains afore winter sets in, so we have to keep apace.

“There’s a river ahead,” a rider called as he rode along the line of wagons. “Circle up in that flat land there.”

Jemma’s Papa pulled their wagon in line as the lead wagon turned and pulled in behind the last wagon in line. Setting up camp in a circle was the safest way to spend the night and Jemma knew she wasn’t to venture past the edge of the wagons.

As Papa took the horses to water and set them out on a picket line to graze, Jemma thought about the lone wagon, now sitting just beyond the safety of the wagons. She imagined a little girl about her age, maybe with red hair and a funny accent like Missy O’Laren from back home. Maybe a little girl she could play with. Most of the children on the train were older boys who didn’t like her tagging along.
	
But there was no time to play now. Everyone had a job to do: getting firewood, scouting for rabbits or squirrel, refilling water barrels, or getting supper started. Jemma glanced toward the abandoned wagon occasionally still daydreaming about the family she decided must have traveled in it.

As the sun headed toward the western mountains, the shadows from the wagons grew long. Jemma sat down to eat her supper on the wagon tongue and watched the wagon as the dusk started swallowing it. That’s when she thought she saw something move by the wagon.

Was it an animal? No! Jemma clearly saw a person. Not a grown person, but a child? Could it be? Yes, Jemma definitely saw a child. Maybe two. “Hey!” she yelled. “It’s not safe to play out there!”

She didn’t know which of the children from the wagon train had wandered out that far, but she knew she better get them back inside the safety of the circle before their Pa caught them at it. She marched out to corral them. She had no intention of staying more than a minute lest she catch it from her own Pa.

But the children were proving difficult and ran from Jemma as she approached. “Hey!” she yelled again. But when they turned toward her, she could clearly see they weren’t children from the train at all. Both of them had long, black hair tied into braids. “Injun children!” Jemma gasped. She guessed one to be a girl and one a boy based on their clothing. She wished she could talk to them, but they didn’t give her a chance. They turned and ran as fast as they could over the hill to the south.

Jemma decided she had better get back. Papa would be looking for her and would take her to task for wandering. She turned back toward the train. That’s when she saw it. A little rag doll with black yarn for hair had fallen on the ground. Jemma scooped it up and stared in wonder.

The doll had long black braids and was dressed in beaded buckskin! The little girl must have dropped it!

“Jemma!” Papa called.

Jemma knew not to dawdle. She flew back to the wagon as quickly as her legs could carry her. She peeked around the front of the wagon and sauntered out when her Papa’s back was to her. “I’m here, Papa,” she called.

“There’s no time for lollygagging, girl. There’s bread to be made, to be ready for morning. We’ll be moving out as quick as we can, so we have to have everything prepared tonight.”

Papa woke Jemma up early and they had the horses hitched up and ready when the wagonmaster called for them to move out again. Jemma climbed up to her post on the seat next to Papa. She could have ridden in the back with Mama and the baby, but she wanted to see everything, even if she did get dust in her eyes and mouth all too often. Papa had given her a kerchief to pull up over her face when it got too bad.

Before long the train stretched out in the distance headed toward the mountains.
“Papa, look!” Jemma gasped as the train passed a group of riders. Their horses were standing stock still without any saddles or bridles to rein their horses in. “Injuns!”

“Hopi.” Papa said. “They’re peaceful enough, if we don’t cross ‘em. The wagonmaster must have gotten permission to cross their land.”

Jemma stared. There was a fierce chief with a feather headdress and several terrifying looking young braves without shirts, and bare legs hanging down. And then there they were. Behind the chief a young girl and boy sat on their own pony. She couldn’t be positive, but could it be they were the children she had seen at the abandoned wagon the night before?

Jemma impulsively pulled back on the horse's reins and jumped from the wagon when it slowed.

“Jemma!” Papa cried in alarm. He quickly tied the reins to the wagon break and jumped down to run after her.

But Jemma was quick. She had reached the line of horses before Papa could stop her.

The chief looked at her intently as she approached. She held up the doll she had found and pointed to the children behind him. He nodded and motioned for her to pass, but held his hand up to keep her Papa from coming closer. Jemma suddenly felt very shy. She held the doll out to the girl. “Please, take it,” she said. “I reckon it’s yours anyhow.”

The girl looked at her father, the chief, who nodded slightly and said something that Jemma didn’t understand. She took the outstretched doll and then slowly untied the beaded necklace she was wearing. She held it out to Jemma. Jemma gasped.

“For me?” she said, taking the necklace. “I thank you heartily. It will be a treasure to me always.”

 “Jemma, come here,” Papa called quietly, not wishing to rile the fierce-looking braves..

“Look, Papa,” Jemma smiled as she held out the necklace to show him. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yes, but we must go now, Jemma,” Papa said as sternly as he could.

Jemma waved at what she considered her new friends and took her Papa’s hand as she walked back to the wagon. 

“I saw an injun, Papa,” Jemma breathed. “A real life injun girl. And she give me a real life injun necklace. I’ll never forget it in all my born days!”

© 2023 Sharon L Letson. All rights reserved.