Watt says in his reminiscences that he shall never forget the look that Benton had on his face as he started across the room, rubbing his hands and storming, "Perhaps I don't know the movements of my own son-in-law." While the picture is completed by the clerk, to all intents writing at a desk near by, but whose sides were "prying out and in like a pair of bellows." A tribute paid by Watt to the services actually rendered by Colonel Fremont mollified the old senator and the remainder of the interview was pleasant. The conversation turned to the object of the visit which Watt had expressed to Benton in the following words: "I was in the neighborhood of the city and was anxious to learn something about the intent of the government concerning Oregon so that I could have something to tell the settlers on my return, for we only get the news once a year." Watt told him of his plan of transferring his family across the plains and of driving sheep and introducing the manufacture of wool. To Benton it seemed "quite an undertaking," but Watt, with the true pioneer spirit, replied, "Yes, but the people out there do not mind hardships and dangers. Somebody has to do it if the country is ever settled." To the praises paid by Watt to Oregon and the need of an extension of government, Benton replied, "There are a great many things to contend with, I am afraid, before that can be done. England has to be treated with, for they have some claims out there; and we have many designing men here who will give us trouble. I am sure I do not know how it will be done, but I think something will be done that will satisfy you people. I have been frustrated in some attempts to relieve the country but am still in hopes we can do something." The conversation then drifted to mutual acquaintances in Missouri, and Watt left with some maps and reports of Fremont, presented by the Senator, under his arm. The journey by boat down the Mississippi River was the occasion of another experience. A collision occurred just before daylight and many of the passengers, unable to get to land, were drowned. Watt narrowly escaped by reaching the hurricane deck and wading out of the cabin waist deep in the water. "I thought that worse than all the Indians in the world," is the remark with which he sums up this experience. Upon reaching home the preparation was made for crossing the continent. A band of sheep had been gotten together during Watt's absence, much to the amusement of the neighbors, who could not believe the enterprise would succeed. The progress, indeed, was slow. When rain fell the mud was deep and in dry weather the dust was equally trying. "I have driven day after day, pushing the sheep along by my knees, and could not see them for the dust," says Watt.