Well, it's been five weeks since my brother Jim died, and his grave is 250 miles back. It's on the trail somewhere. A gloomy atmosphere prevails over the tiny connestoga wagon we own. The days ain't been that golden though. But still, we wearily trudge on, through the nasty temperatures and the annoyance of my frog catching attempts. What I would give to have my animals that I used to raise! Now they're all dead from starvation. Still we move on. Honestly, the only thing that keeps our family together is the fact that most of us are still alive. Fort Walla-Walla is also a gloomy place, and from popular gossip, it was nice in Washington. Dark skies prevail over the drizzle that falls. The trail was too sad, too terrifying. Nothing ever gets worse than this. When does it all end?
Stuff I Learned
The fort was founded in A.D. 1852 and named after the Walla-Walla River. It is along the Oregon trail, which goes through Washington. It is one of the last stops before Oregon.
John Hankins, Jr.