the excitements of the frontier. And our last halting-place will be at
sunrise--the sunrise of the New West, with its waving grain-fields,
fenced flocks and splendid cities, drawing upon the mountains for the
water to make it fertile, and upon the whole world for men to make it
rich.

I was born on a farm near Leclair, Scott County, Iowa, February 26,
1846. My father, Isaac Cody, had emigrated to what was then a frontier
State. He and his people, as well as my mother, had all dwelt in Ohio.
I remember that there were Indians all about us, looking savage enough
as they slouched about the village streets or loped along the roads on
their ponies. But they bore no hostility toward anything save work and
soap and water.

We were comfortable and fairly prosperous on the little farm. My
mother, whose maiden name was Mary Ann Leacock, took an active part in
the life of the neighborhood. An education was scarce in those days.
Even school teachers did not always possess it. Mother's education was
far beyond the average, and the local school board used to require all
applicants for teachers' position to be examined by her before they
were entrusted with the tender intellects of the pioneer children.

But the love of adventure was in father's blood. The railroad--the only
one I had ever seen--extended as far as Port Byron, Illinois, just
across the Mississippi. When the discovery of gold in California in
1849 set the whole country wild, this railroad began to bring the
Argonauts, bound for the long overland wagon journey across the Plains.
Naturally father caught the excitement. In 1850 he made a start, but it
was abandoned--why I never knew. But after that he was not content with
Iowa. In 1853 our farm and most of our goods and chattels were