I want to be call 'Little Corn' not Cornelius. I really don't remember saying that but it has stuck. This is my story about heading out West with my family. I am only 4 years old but already have traveled more than 100 miles in my short life. My Father and Mother and Brother headed towards the east for a new life. I don't really understand why we did it but my Father can now have cattle and land for farming. We left Renoldsburg and traveled to North Fork on a wagon my Father bought. The trip was long and hard. I remember wondering why they had to walk while I rode in the Conestoga Wagon with the rest of our things. Most of the time there were no roads, only horse trails and we had to cross streams to get there. I love watching those big wagon wheels turn. Sometimes we all had to get out and push when it got caught in the mud. Others times we had to leave things behind along the trail because it was just to heavy. My Mother cried when we had to leave things at home before we left and it was even harder to remove items from the wagon knowing we would never see it again. This was an adventure for me. After a while there were not any trees and only big rocks. Hot days and cold nights, rain and dust along the way slowed us down. We had planned for 5 weeks to be on the trail but it took much longer. One day one of the wagon wheels came off. My Father got the wagon jack and with the help of my Uncle Jack, was able to put it back on. Another time, when we stopped for the night we saw several Shawnee Indians hunting. They didn't come near us but my Brother, Sawyer had his sling shot ready just in case.
