One remark of Father's caught and held my attention and dwarfed all other things into insignificance: "They say it is three thousands miles, and to reach it we travel straight INTO THE EYE OF THE SETTING SUN."  I thought about it a great deal and finally asked Mother what he meant.  So she explained that we were to follow the sun.  I reasoned still further to myself to follow the sun?  Why then it would be always day and one would never need to go to bed just because it was too dark to do other fascinating things.  How that gripped and thrilled me.  I could hardly wait till the time came to start.  Sometime late in the winter, Father sold our home to Mr. Collins and with it, the household goods and the stock except what we were to take with us, and the bee gums, even the one that belonged to me that I had helped to hive and had taken such pride in. I do not recall that I regretted it.  I was too much taken up with the thought of following the sun to have room for any other emotions.

     At last our wagons were drawn up before the house, four of them, with deep boxes built of new lumber and double thickness.  At intervals on either side big iron staples that held the ends of the hickory bows, while the bows themselves arched above and held in place the homespun covers.

     Then the loading began and such careful loading as it was.  Not a thing was put in place until it had been considered well, and finally judged indispensable.  Mother's chin quivered when she laid her treasures many of them, to one side.  Moving is always such a wonderfully interesting occasion to little folk.  One can go to the piles of things that the stupid grown folks have failed to appreciate, and have put aside to give away or burn as the case may be, and many a fine addition to the playhouse may be salvaged, or bright bits of cloth that one is sure to find useful for doll quilts or wardrobes.  And when the move is made, if one handles it tactfully, one can always manage to tuck them in somewhere.

     This move was different.  When our four wagons were finally loaded, not one ounce of doubtful weight was in them.  So careful had been the loading, that when Mother's seed bag was found to have been overlooked, there was no space left for it, so Mother started the long trip to Oregon with it tied to her saddle horn.  There was plenty of room in those wagons for many things besides the seed bag before we reached the west coast.  Sacks of bacon and flour had given place to bags of soiled cloth and some of our wagons were almost empty.