Father and Mother sat on the seat of one wagon, that first morning, Father driving the fine team of dappled grays, Derby and Prince, a team that soon became our pride and joy; they were so friendly and so true. At first Carrie and I and the three little boys had seats on the boxes and bedding under the cover. Carrie soon grew tired of her place there, however. Most of the journey she rode on the seat of one of the other wagons. It was always fun for us, though, to curl up on the bedding, looking out from beneath the cover flaps. Always there was something new to be seen, and I'm sure Father grew tired of questions.

Two brothers, Tom and Chris Halligan, sons of a neighboring farmer we had always known, had been hired to drive the other wagons and help with the work of the travel. During the first half of the journey, Win rode where he pleased, much of the time with Henry Acker in one of their wagons. Major trotted happily beside the horses when we did not have him in the wagon with us.

Our wagons were well, but not heavily, loaded. Uncle Isaac and his brother Joe, who had decided to emigrate too, knew from experience that it was better to take an extra wagon than to have to travel slowly. One could always sell an extra outfit in the West if it was not needed, they said. They had helped Father make a list of necessary articles, and had advised as to the packing. It was well for us that they were experienced, too, as we were saved many a hardship suffered by those who took with them unneeded things and discarded articles of great value on the plains. That list was so long that when I read it I wondered if there would be any room in the wagons for us.

Here we were, however, all comfortably seated and ready for the long journey, ready except for some stores that Father planned to buy at Council Bluffs. All our clothing, bedding, cooking utensils, and the food to be used first were in the wagon with us. One wagon carried little but horse feed to last until the horses grew accustomed to eating the prairie grass. The other was loaded with stores of various kinds, food, the tent, the camp stove, a canvas sling behind in which to put scraps of wood for our fires, and extra ammunition, for though the Indians had not been troublesome for a long time, there was always uncertainty concerning them.

We soon joined Uncle Isaac and Aunt Caroline Acker with their family and their three wagons and Uncle Joe and Aunt Emmy Acker with their wagons. I was glad, for Florence climbed in with us. She was two years younger than I, but somewhat larger. As I was leaving every other playmate behind, I was surely glad of her company.

"Mother says I may ride with you today," she announced. "Isn't it fun?"

Surely it was. We pulled the bedding around until we had a comfortable nest and curled up happily as we rumbled on. The flaps were down that morning and we couldn't see much excepting straight ahead, so we were glad after a while when Father stopped a moment to rest his horses. We scrambled out, Winfield and Henry Acker who was a year younger than he, and Florence and I. We ran on ahead of the wagons, glad of the freedom. Indeed we were to learn that frequent turns at walking were delightful, and many a mile of that long trip did we travel afoot.

Those first nights before we reached Council Bluffs we spent at farmhouses, generally at the houses of friends where we paid last visits. We bought milk and fruit and vegetables along the way so as not to deplete our stores. It was all so new to us, those first days on the road, and so interesting. To our parents, when they looked at their six children and what were now their worldly possessions, in those three wagons, and thought of the slow months of travel ahead, it must have seemed a tremendous undertaking. To us it was a lark.