"On the afternoon of the 9th of October," wrote Wilford, "we took leave of Father Carter and family, and started upon our journey of two thousand miles at this late season of the year, taking with me my wife, her nursing babe, to lead a company of fifty-three souls from Maine to Illinois, and to spend nearly three months traveling in wagons, through rain, mud, snow, and frost. It was such a trial as I never before had attempted during my experience as a minister of the gospel. "We were joined at Georgetown by Elder Milton Holmes, and traveled each day as far as we could go, camping wherever night overtook us. On the 13th of October, while crossing the Green Mountains, I was attacked by something resembling cholera, and was very sick; I stopped at a house about two hours, and the elders having administered to me, I revived. On the 24th I was taken sick again, and my wife and child also were stricken down. Several others of the company were sick, through exposure. On the 31st we had our first snowstorm, and the horses dragged our wagons all day through mud, snow, and water. On the 2nd of November Elder Milton Holmes left us, and took steamer for Fairport; two days later, Nathaniel Thomas' little child, about six years of age, died, and we had to bury it at Westfield. {96} The roads finally became so bad and the cold so severe that Nathaniel Thomas and James Townsend concluded to stop for the winter; we parted with them on the 21st of November, near New Portage, Ohio. "My wife Phoebe was attacked on the 23rd of November by a severe headache, which terminated in brain fever; she grew more and more distressed daily as we continued our journey. It was a terrible ordeal for a woman to travel in a wagon over such rough roads, afflicted as she was. At the same time our child was also very sick. "The 1st of December was a trying day to my soul. My wife continued to fail, and about four o'clock in the afternoon appeared to be stricken with death. I stopped my team, and it seemed as if she then would breathe her last, lying there in the wagon. Two of the sisters sat beside her, to see if they could do anything for her in her last moments. I stood upon the ground, in deep affliction, and meditated. Then I cried to the Lord, praying that she might live and not be taken from me, and claiming the promises the Lord had made to me through the Prophet and Patriarch. Her spirit revived, and I drove a short distance to a tavern, got her into a room and worked over her and her babe all night, praying to the Lord to preserve their lives.