Today, some men were arguing loudly about I-don't-know-what.  Mr.McCoy, one of the men in the argument, claimed that he was in charge of the wagon trail.  The other men disagreed with his claim.  Our crew wanted a fair election, so we had one.  Unfortunately, McCoy still won, but it was probably for the best.  The next morning, the Hatfields and Murrays were left behind because they were sick.

Speaking of illness, Tyler got the same symptoms as the Murrays.  We didn't want to be left behind, so we kept our secret.  A snake oil salesman 

We decided to shoot one of the buffalo blocking our path.  You see, they didn't want us to continue on the trail because they didn't like our music and were annoyed.  Thomas Peeters was feeling bloodthirsty, so we let him shoot the buffalo.  He pulled out his M16 Rifle, licked his lips, and pulled his trigger.  The bullet killed a rather depressed buffalo who didn't care if he died.  The remaining buffalo stampeded away, doing summersaults and backflips to get away from us.  Unfortunately, this startled our oxen, who jumped so high that they could see 100 miles in every direction.