- Sam, Sam, I'm scared. I'm just plain scared.

- Now Mary, there's good farmland to be had in the Oregon territory, and there's the gold fields of California. Why, we got all sorts,

- But Sam, it's 2000 miles away, and there's been all this talk about Indians and disease, and well, who knows what else we'll find out there, Sam. I,

- Now Mary, there's a lot of other people in this wagon train. If they can make it, so can we.

- Is this the box you wanted, mother?

- [Mary] Yes, Jim. Thank you.

- Mommy, can I take Patches?

- [Mary] Well, yes, of course you can take Patches. We wouldn't wanna leave her behind, would we?

- Well, that about does it. We're about ready for the trip.

- Will we be leaving in the morning?

- No, we have a meeting in the morning to elect the officers for the trip and set up rules for travel.

- [Jim] Do you reckon we'll see any Indians?

- Hush, Jim. Hush. You'll be frightening the little ones with that kind of talk. Here, you two. Why don't you go get your playing done. We're going to have to get to bed early.

- Roll your wagon!

- [Narrator] From his first command to move out, the Wagon Master is boss over everyone in the wagon train. For many months the people of the wagon train will live together, sharing hardships as well as fellowship. From the beginning of the trip, they agree to abide by a common set of strict laws and they agree to follow almost without question the judgment of the Wagon Master, the man they have selected to lead them throughout the trip. Following the Oregon Trail, the train starts at Independence, Missouri, and proceeds west across the great plains to the rugged Rocky Mountains. The formidable Rockies must be crossed before the snows begin in early fall in order to reach the point where the trail divides. Here, some of the wagons will turn northwest of the farmlands of Oregon and others southwest to the gold fields of California. These people accept the hardships of the 2000 mile trip for different reasons. Some are hungry for gold, some for adventure, some seek the rich free farmlands of Northwest, some the freedom their religious beliefs demand. Typical of the wagon train families are the Daniels, late of Pennsylvania.

- [Jim] My name is Jim Daniels and I'm 14 years old. My father is Sam Daniels. He brought us to Independence from Pennsylvania to join the wagon train. My mother, Mary, wasn't too keen on leaving our home in Pennsylvania to come west, but my little brother Thomas is excited about traveling and hopes we will see some Indians. My sister Susan is too little to think about much of anything. We left Independence two days ago and already we're nearly 40 miles closer to California and the gold. Ma says we ought to settle a farm in Oregon, but Pa hankers for the gold. Guess there'll be plenty of time to decide before we get there. Right now, we worry most about the fifteen or 20 miles we have to travel every day if we're to get across the mountains before the snows fall and block the trail. Every new day is exciting and every new day begins at dawn for everybody. Each one has a job to do to help keep the train moving on schedule. My first job is to gather wood for the fire. Pa tends to the horse's first thing, to get them ready for the long day ahead. While Ma makes us all happy, she gets breakfast. Ma cooks about the best bacon and fried dough I ever tasted. She keeps the little ones out of the way by sending them to the crick to get water for washing and for our tea, and then we have breakfast and that makes this one of the best times of the day. Eating out in the open off of a tin plate and drinking from a tin cup seems to make things taste mighty good somehow. And Ma doesn't pester us much about table manners, but I reckon she'll change when we get us a home. Everybody gets excited when we load up the wagons. Every day seems like the beginning of a new trip. Everything we have in the world rides with us in the wagon and by seven o'clock we're ready to roll. When we're traveling, my job is to look after the family in the wagon while Pa scouts ahead with some of the men. When the going's easy, Thomas gets to drive the team and this gives Ma a chance to rest a little and catch up on her knitting. Most of the time Susan plays with her doll, Patches, except when Pa gives her a special treat and lets her ride with him on the horse. When it gets near to noon, the Wagon Master gives the order to halt and we stop to rest the horses and ourselves and to eat a little. We usually have dried beef and biscuits at noontime. The beef takes a lot of chewing, but it's a good excuse to rest for a spell. Then we're back on the trail to the west, still 10 miles to go before we stop for the day. When the Wagon Master signals to stop and make camp, everybody's ready for the rest of the chores we have to do before nightfall. Pa takes the horses out to graze while Ma and Susan take things out of the wagon to get ready for dinner. Thomas and I gather dried buffalo chips to burn on the campfire and our chores are nearly done, except that now we go to school. Along with the other kids of the wagon train, Mrs. Crawford teaches us to count and to read and write. Mrs. Crawford has been to school and knows about education. Everybody's interested in learning, I guess, but sometimes after a day of traveling, it's hard to keep your mind on it. We all like the part where Mrs. Crawford reads to us from the book and I know everybody would like to be able to read from the book too, someday. Tonight we have a real treat. Pa has shot us a prairie chicken and we have fresh meat for supper. It sure tastes good compared to dried beef. Sometimes there's dancing and singing after supper, but today has been long and tonight most of us are ready for bed at sundown. Besides, some folks say bad weather's coming. Ma and Susan sleep inside the wagon where it's comfortable. That's where women folk belong, in the wagon. Father and Thomas and me sleep below on the ground and during the night, the weather changes sure enough, and the ruts of the trail fill up with mud and water. Rain keeps up for days and it seems like we are wet and cold all the time. The rain and damp even gets inside the wagon and there's no place that's dry, and always there's the mud and water that the wagons have to be pulled through. And always there's the wagons getting mired in, and people worrying about the time we're losing and how we've got to keep moving to get over the mountains in time. Hardship seems to make men strong enough to take care of the things nature throws up to slow us down or stop us. We are better than two weeks away from Independence, when our Wagon Master shows us an important landmark. It's the Platte River and some folks say the Platte is a mile wide and an inch deep. We're going to follow it for more than a month. If it wasn't for Susan, everything would be fine with us. Susan got the chills during the long rains and Ma thinks she's real sick. Ma points out interesting things to cheer her up, like the prairie dog village alongside our trail and the little prairie dogs that seem to play hide and seek with us. The wagon train has to keep right on moving, no matter who's sick. We have to get over the mountains before the snows come. Every once in a while now we see herds of buffalo, and this means we'll have plenty of fresh meat again. Pa says the buffalo is the meanest critter on the planes, but he makes good eating if you're hungry enough. Pa is one of the hunting party who go to shoot enough buffalo to keep us in meat a while. It takes a pretty good lick of time to skin out and clean the dead buffaloes, but Pa is an expert at it. Today we see our first Indians and Ma about jumps out of her skin. I'll bet Ma would've run for the hills if she'd had the strength, but the Indians only wanted to trade with us. They have a fine looking spotted Indian pony and they're willing to trade it. I've always wanted a horse of my own and I sure hope Pa can get this one for me. The Indians want tobacco, cloth and beads and we have brought these things with us just for trading. The Indians are curious about everything we have in the wagon and they ask about our Susan, who is still very sick. When they learn there is sickness in our train, they leave in a hurry. I guess many of their people have died from sickness they have gotten from White people off the wagon trains, so it's no wonder they run from Susan. It is just a good thing for me Pa got them traded out of the spotted Indian pony before they left. Calico is about the finest horse I've ever seen, and I ride him bareback 'cause I don't have a saddle. Riding is much better than walking, but every so often I have to get off for a spell just to rest the horse. Day after day, our wagon train keeps rolling west and every day our little Susan seems more sickly. Of course, there's no doctor and Ma just has to do the best she can. She watches Susan night and day and doesn't get much sleep. Ma does everything she can to help Susan, but I guess the gravestone we passed was a sign, for that night, God came and took Susan to heaven.

- Dear Lord, we offer up the sweet soul of our little girl, Susan Daniels. May she be happy in thy kingdom for all the days to come.

- [Jim] Somehow, life on the trail seems harder now. Ma doesn't say much anymore and she looks a lot older. Since Susan, two more people have died on the trail and when we come to Chimney Rock in Indian country, I can't help but think of it as a big tombstone. Pa says it's close to 500 feet high and that it's a real landmark on the Oregon trail. We keep moving west. Now the sun burns into us like the heat from a grass fire and the dust gets into everything. Seems like we're always hot, dirty, and thirsty. Water is scarce and sometimes we can't drink the water we find, 'cause it's full of alkali, it's poison. And every day the signs of death get more common along the trail. In the eyes of many of the folks comes the look of fear and despair. Then we hit the Sweetwater River country, where there's plenty of good water and people find out they haven't forgotten how to smile. And soon after that, Pa points out a landmark we'll never forget: Independence Rock that looks down on everybody who travels the Oregon Trail. Everybody tries to carve his name in the solid granite so people will know he's been there and we keep pushing onto the west as we pass Devil's Gate, and then we're in the Sagebrush country. Sagebrush is about all you can see, sagebrush and sun and dust, and the heat makes everything dance in front of our eyes. But all of a sudden, we have some excitement. It's a band of crow Indians and they're coming our way. The Wagon Master gives the signal to take cover and all the wagons circle as quick as they can. An attack by Indians is what everybody's been afraid of since we left Independence. People are just plain scared of the Indians. Can we hold them off? Everybody wonders. We'll fight for our lives if the Indians go for us. I try to look brave, but secretly, I'm sure I'll be scalped. But we're lucky, the crows decide to leave us alone. They must only have been hunting game and our people feel relieved. That evening, the thankfulness just seems to well up in folks' souls. And that evening, my Ma's sadness seems to slip away and she comes back to us. She smiles and it makes everything seem right again. Yes sir, it begins to look like the year eighteen and forty nine will turn out all right. We still have a long ways to go. Pa says we're only halfway there and we may run into trouble, but from here on the rivers all flow west to the Pacific Ocean and pretty soon we'll come to where the trail splits: one way to California, the other way to Oregon. And Ma and Pa are still trying to decide which way to go. It's hard to know which, will we look for gold or for farmland? And me? Well, either way is fine with me. I feel I'm nearly a grown man now and I'm eager to get on into the new country and make a place for myself. Our wagon train will go on pushing into the west and there are lots more trains behind us. I guess they'll just keep coming from now on. Someday there may be as many as a million people in the west country and someday there may be real roads across this land we've crossed on prairie trails.

- [Narrator] Jim didn't realize that within 125 years, there would be tens of millions of people here enjoying the heritage given them by the early settlers. People who suffered, fought and died to give added meaning to the words democracy and freedom. Their dreams and their deeds laid the foundations for expanding our country into a mighty nation, stretching from ocean to ocean.