Onward Christian Soldiers part 5

On we went, it was a hot afternoon, though thankfully there was a breeze, sent from heaven.
The sun still beat down on our backs however.  Ester, my oldest sister,  Pa, and Captain pulled up front while the rest of us pushed in back. We in the middle of the long train of carts, and it seemed as both Captain and Ester were determined to make it up to the front. Every once in a while, as often as she could, Ma would pour ice water down our backs, if she could get it, and if she couldn't she got the warm water from our cooler.

Pushing that cart now felt like a daily routine, a month after month, endless daily routine. This is my agenda: Push cart, take drink, help trek siblings, break for meals, push, push, push, set up tent,  write in my journal....and, many times, fall asleep on it.
Captain was tired, so I offered to trade places with him. I held the handle bar quite fine, I thought, but when we started moving, all I could do was try to keep from being run over by the heavy- big wheeled wooden car.  I tried, but I couldn't be Captain's chance for a rest. While pushing in back, he peeked over our heap of stuff, and saw me there trying to keep up with Pa and Ester, pulling beside me, and came back to  take his place in less than a minute. That stunk. IT stunk that no matter how hard I tried I couldn't pull like Captain, Faith,  Ester, or Constance, Alma, or Helaman.

So I helped in every other way I could. I knew some things they didn't. I could be encouragement.
I could give perspective. I could try to pull in some humor.  If there was something I could do I did it.
I shared a few short stories of my ancestors that went to Salt lake Valley, or helped Ma with the meals.

Now that a great number of our company had begun to tire, and lost that first spurt of energy when we had begun, our train of carts would stretch out, and there would be a couple gaps, and many stops for those left behind.

But they were quick.
And we were always at, or near the front.
And then, when we were moving,---crack!
"Whoa, Whoa, stop!" Pa called out. I hadn't heard him until the third time. "What?"
"Stop," We stopped, "The cart broke," Pa announced. In the back, we all came  around to the front to see. Faith was apologizing over and over; she had broke her side of the bar, the part that connected to the cart.
But no one was the least bit angry at her.
We all comforted her with compliments of her strength and determination, especially Captain.
We carefully moved our cart out of the way, so the wagon train could go on without us.
One family offered help, but Pa and the boys had it well handled. Pa came prepared with rope and tied it secure.

It never came undone.