and their
provision wagons by three. They had also cows, and a number of driving
and saddle horses, among them Virginia's pony Billy, on whose back she
had been held and taught to ride when she was only seven years old.

The provision wagons were filled to overflowing with all sorts of
supplies. There were farming implements, to be used in tilling the
land in that new country to which they were going, and a bountiful
supply of seeds. Besides these farm supplies, there were bolts of
cotton prints and flannel for dresses and shirts, also gay
handkerchiefs, beads, and other trinkets to be used for barter with
the Indians. More important still, carefully stowed away was a store
of fine laces, rich silks and velvets, muslins and brocades, to be
exchanged for Mexican land-grants. The family wagon, too, had been
fitted up with every kind of commodity, including a cooking-stove,
with its smoke-stack carried out through the canvas roof of the wagon,
and a looking-glass which Mrs. Reed's friends had hung on the canvas
wall opposite the wagon door--"so you will not forget to keep your
good looks, they said!"

And now the party was ready to start. Among its number were Mrs. Reed
and her husband, with little Patty, the two small boys, James and
Thomas, and the older daughter, Virginia; the Donners, George and
Jacob, with their wives and children; Milton Elliott, driver of the
Reed family wagon, who had worked for years in Mr. Reed's big sawmill;
Eliza Baylis, the Reeds' domestic, with her brother and a number of
other young men, some of them drivers, others merely going for
adventure. In all, on that lovely April morning, it was a group of
thirty-one persons around whom friends and relatives clustered for
last words and glimpses, and it was a sad moment for all. Mrs. Reed
broke down when she realized that the moment of parting had really
come, while Mr. Reed, in response to the good wishes showered on him,
silently gripped hand after hand, then he hurried into the house with
Milt Elliott, and presently came out carrying Grandma, at the sight of
whom her friends cheered lustily. She waved her thin hand in response
as she was lifted gently into the wagon and placed on a large
feather-bed, where she was propped up with pillows and declared
herself to be perfectly comfortable.

And indeed her resting-place was very much like a room, for the wagon
had been built with its entrance at the side, like an old-fashioned
stage-coach, and fr