About 1828 people began to talk about the far West. Ohio was the place
we heard most about, and the most we knew was, that it was a long way
off and no way to get there except over a long and tedious road, with
oxen or horses and a cart or wagon. More than one got the Western fever,
as they called it, my uncle James Webster and my father among the rest,
when they heard some traveler tell about the fine country he had seen;
so they sold their farms and decided to go to Ohio, Uncle James was to
go ahead, in the fall of 1829 and get a farm to rent, if he could, and
father and his family were to come on the next spring.

Uncle fitted out with two good horses and a wagon; goods were packed in
a large box made to fit, and under the wagon seat was the commissary
chest for food and bedding for daily use, all snugly arranged. Father
had, shortly before, bought a fine Morgan mare and a light wagon which
served as a family carriage, having wooden axles and a seat arranged on
wooden springs, and they finally decided they would let me take the
horse and wagon and go on with uncle, and father and mother would come
by water, either by way of the St. Lawrence river and the lakes or by
way of the new canal recently built, which would take them as far as
Buffalo.

So they loaded up the little wagon with some of the mentioned things and
articles in the house, among which I remember a fine brass kettle,
considered almost indispensable in housekeeping. There was a good lot of
bedding and blankets, and a quilt nicely folded was placed on the spring
seat as a cushion.

As may be imagined I was the object of a great deal of attention about
this time, for a boy not yet ten years old just setting out into a
region almost unknown was a little unusual. When I was ready they all