Well, it’s official. Me, Martha, and the boys are headed West on the Oregon Trail. Apparently, God wants us to go out there and rape his bounty — or maybe it’s “reap.” Whatever; we can’t afford a Bible and our Pastor has a lisp. We’ve teamed up with a banker named Billy (odd name for a banker, but it takes all kinds, I guess), who’s decided to give us “fun” nicknames for the trip. I’m “Boogers,” the wife is “Big Boogers,” and the boys are “Michelangelo” and “Leonardo.”
A bit strange, but me and Big Boogers know our love will get us through anything.
April 3, 1848
Not so sure about this Billy character. Bit of a queer duck. Spent most of our money on bullets, then the rest on wagon tongues because they “sounded funny.” They must use bullets as currency out West, since the Lord will inevitably provide His people with many yet-unseen animals to strike down with our Holy Thunder.
April 6, 1848
Three days. We’ve been on the road for three days and only put five miles behind us. Now, I like hunting as much as the next guy, but mowing down God’s Kingdom seems to be all Billy is interested in. Every 50 feet we stop, shoot a herd of buffalo, and carry only 100 pounds of meat back to the wagon. As I write this, Big Boogers and the kids are sitting next to 2000 pounds of raw buffalo packed in salt, and they’re none too happy about it. Leonardo looks a bit green around the gills, so only one glazed hoof for him tonight.