Chapter 18
In the morning the bugle sounded and everyone looked as though they were sleepwalking, zombie-eyed and dead-limbed, as they went about their morning tasks. Willie made strong coffee, even giving some to the mules, while I flipped johnnycakes. All too soon, the bugle sounded again. We traveled until we stood at the edge of the Big Blue River, which ran along with a carelessness the powerful take for granted. With careful planning, we crossed without losing anyone, human or animal. After more long days like the one before and the one before, we found ourselves near the Platte River.
Amos steered the mules toward the ruts left by previous prairie schooners—a ready-made road, he called it. Willie laughed when she said she had only been hit in the head once that day, by a falling s
