As Mrs. Whitman playfully wrote her father and mother, "I expect my dear husband will be so full of his great mission that he will not take time to tell you of home affairs, I will do so." That was in a measure true. He made a hurried visit to his mother in her home, to his wife's parents, and to his brother, who had moved West. But his eyes and thoughts and hopes were ever westward. He had heard from General Lovejoy, who was on the ground, of the bright prospect of a large company for Oregon. As the spring months opened in 1843, there were stirring times along the border, such as never before seen. Great wagons, with white canvas covers, drawn by long-horned oxen, sturdy mules, and horses, herds of fine cattle to stock the new farms, with from eight hundred to a thousand men, women, and children, with their household treasures, were there. They had received the same inspiration as their fathers who had peopled the great West across the Alleghanies, and the motto still was, "Westward the Star of Empire takes its way." Such were the inspiring conditions which greeted Whitman when he reached the border. He was a man of great faith, and firmly believed in success, but such an imposing body filled his soul with gratitude and thankfulness. The company was made up mainly from the rural districts, strong, muscular men, their wives and children, and eager young people. There were many anxious mothers, who saw the responsibility of the great undertaking, and whose perils women intuitively feel more certainly than men. Who can tell the secret of that sudden gathering of pioneer heroes, on the banks of "the Great Muddy" in 1843? True, the old missionaries had written many letters. New immigrants had done the same. But Congress and the national authorities had done nothing but ridicule, and in no single case had lent a helping hand. There must have been some secret telepathetic power which had sounded a call! True, Whitman and Lovejoy had been busy, but neither one ever made claim of inducing the great immigration of 1843. The honor was sufficient for them, as the only men acquainted with the road, to lead the great company to the promised land in safety. But the enemies of these missionaries, especially of Whitman, tried so often to make light of his eminent services, that the Rev. Dr. Myron Eells of Twana, Washington, some years ago, sat down and wrote to every living pioneer of that immigration he could locate (and he knew most of them), and asked the question, "Did Dr. Whitman induce you to immigrate to Oregon in 1843?" Two-fifths replied, "Yes."