Chuck Wagon

The year was 1897 and Moody McCuan was 15 years old. He climbed out of bed long before the first pink rays of light bathed the eastern skies. He hurried down a well-worn path, careful not to spook the longhorn steers that were bedded down nearby. When he got to the chuck wagon, another boy age 17 was already there. The cook was hobbling around on a crude crutch, yet very busy getting breakfast ready for a bunch of cowboys that would soon be up and about. The smell of fresh brewed coffee mingled with the tantalizing aroma of fried salt pork bacon.

The two boys were there by invitation, since they had visited the camp the previous evening and found out that the cook needed a helper. He had injured his right foot when he had jumped from the wagon, in an attempt to keep it from turning over, at the crossing on Red River the previous day. The river crossings were the most dangerous part of a cattle drive, and this one had proven to be no exception. The wagon had righted itself without being swept down the river, but a cowboy's horse had stepped on the cook's foot. At any rate, he was unable to do all of the work necessary to carry out his duties as cook. He had given the boys a good feed the evening before, in exchange for them rustling up enough firewood for cooking breakfast. He then talked the two boys into joining the trail drive to be his helpers. Their job would be totally connected with the chuck wagon and they would ride in it and not on a horse.

How many parents today would allow a 15-year-old boy to join a trail drive? Moody McCuan was not your average teen. He had already that year, all by himself, raised a crop of corn on the south side of Alberta Creek. He said the corn was raised at the "Cook Patch", which was very near the Lighthouse Methodist Church. The crop was laid-by, and he had spare time on his hands. During the planting and plowing of his corn is where he found most of the arrowheads and other artifacts that he gave me in 1964. How many teens do you know that would take a team of mules and raise a crop of corn?

I was named "Willis Moody" after my grandfather and I named my fist son "John Moody". John then named his son "Jerreck Moody". I count it as a great privilege to have been named after Moody McCuan. He was the most honest man I have ever known. He was also the hardest working man I have ever known. In his declining years, on many occasions he would look me in the eye and say, "I've done enough work in my lifetime to wear out an iron man." Invariably on those occasions, one or both of us would have a tear appear. His friends and family often said that he wore out many a pair of shoes, kicking the rocks out of the trails so that those behind him wouldn't stumble on them. When he sold you a bushel of corn, he heaped it so high that you couldn't move it without several ears falling from it.

When the cattle drive resumed, Moody was sitting up on the chuck wagon beside the cook, feeling very grown-up and embarking on a journey that would be an experience of a lifetime. The drive crossed what is now known as McDuffee Road and angled northeast up the present, Old Indian Trail Road. It would have gone up the Washita River bottom just east of Lake Texoma State Park, and then north past the oil derrick in the lake. It crossed the Washita River near Fort Washita, then angled to the east past Nails Crossing on Blue River.

The chuck wagon was the hug of activity at night. All of the spare equipment plus the food was carried on the wagon, which was pulled by four mules, at the back of the wagon there was a large hinged door that covered the chuck-box, which was somewhat of a pantry. The door let down and made a table for the cook. When the door was in the upright position, it covered the pantry full of food and utensils. It was also supposed to keep out flies and some of the dust. The best thing to come out of the pantry was sour dough biscuits and "flap jacks". The sour dough was a living, active culture, and imparted a unique flavor that is seldom equaled today.

At every stop, the boys had to have a fire built immediately so the coffee would be hot. Coffee was the one constant at every meal. A coffee grinder was permanently nailed to the chuck-box. Coffee beans were ground daily to insure that the coffee was always fresh. Gathering wood was an ongoing process and consumed much of the boy's time. Near Atoka, the boys were in a heavily timbered area gathering wood when gunfire erupted. In the next chapter, Boggy Depot, we will look for the two teens that hid out, thinking there had been an attack on the trail drive.