to Michigan to work on and hold down the claim
while father, for eighteen months longer, stayed on
in Lawrence, sending us such remittances as he could.
His second and third sons, John and Thomas, re-
mained in the East with him.

Every detail of our journey through the wilder-
ness is clear in my mind. At that time the railroad
terminated at Grand Rapids, Michigan, and we
covered the remaining distance--about one hundred
miles--by wagon, riding through a dense and often
trackless forest. My brother James met us at
Grand Rapids with what, in those days, was called
a lumber-wagon, but which had a horrible resem-
blance to a vehicle from the health department.
My sisters and I gave it one cold look and turned
from it; we were so pained by its appearance that
we refused to ride in it through the town. Instead,
we started off on foot, trying to look as if we had no
association with it, and we climbed into the un-
wieldy vehicle only when the city streets were far
behind us. Every available inch of space in the
wagon was filled with bedding and provisions. As
yet we had no furniture; we were to make that for
ourselves when we reached our cabin; and there
was so little room for us to ride that we children
walked by turns, while James, from the beginning
of the journey to its end, seven days later, led our
weary horses.