I shall show you some of the humors as well as the excitements of the frontier.

And our last halting-place will be at sunrise--the sunrise of the New West, with its waving grain-fields, fenced flocks and splendid cities, drawing upon the mountains for the water to make it fertile, and upon the whole world for men to make it rich.
I was born on a farm near Leclair, Scott County, Iowa, February 26, 1846.

My father, Isaac Cody, had emigrated to what was then a frontier State.

He and his people, as well as my mother, had all dwelt in Ohio.
I remember that there were Indians all about us, looking savage enough as they slouched about the village streets or loped along the roads on their ponies.

But they bore no hostility toward anything save work and soap and water.
We were comfortable and fairly prosperous on the little farm.