Cato Wahl

I was leading my mule, Roscoe, into town to be shod, uncertain what I was going to do afer, when I saw the wagons. I knew where they were headed -- west. West to Oregon. They weren't the first to come through and I'd probably have paid them no mind, except for three things. First, it was one of those fine early April days that start the sap to running and just naturall makes a man's foot start to itch. Second, Pa and me had a fair-sized argument that morning and i was still feling rankled. Then, of course, ther was the girl. Thus begins a journey that will change Cato Walhl's life forever.