“It’s like the rest of them, mum. No matter where you are, there is always something else that might be better, just a little further west.”
It was true, of course. Wandering got into the blood, and there were always those greener pastures that lay over the fence or over the next range of mountains.
Here all was strange and new and yet somehow familiar. Western men and women had little time for contemplation, although Temple Boone said he did most of his thinking alongside a campfire or when riding. Western men were thinking of how things could be done; they were used to making do. Since coming to Cherokee, she had heard several stories of men alone who had set their own broken bones, amputated limbs, doing what could be done to survive. Only a few miles away, two sisters had built their own log cabin. – The Cherokee Trail by Louis L’Amour