Out to the territory

That was my father's boyhood dream - to go west to new land on a prairie where a furrow turned clean without stones, where the soil lay level so a man could stand on his doorstep and see his acres growing from the green of springtime to the brown of autumn, could taste his crops in the cool of the wind, and be pleased with the good of his labor. A man could build barns and be sure of food and pasture for cattle he housed in them, lift hard and have pay for his lifting. A man could know his house would have warmth in its kitchen and stores in its pantry, a place with comfort and plenty through winter - a dream of reward and abundance, a place to take pack and set out for, on foot or horseback or covered wagon - The Territory.