They were all going to a new mysterious place.
The things they hoped for in a new country.
A strange thing happened: the twenty families became one family.
They scuttled like bugs to the westward.
They clustered like bugs near to shelter.
They talked together; they shared their lives, their food.
The twenty were one.
Every night relationships that make a world, established.
Friends made and enemies established.
Every night a world created.
The loss of home became one loss, and the golden time in the West was one dream.
And as the worlds moved westward they were more complete and better furnished.