Neigh, lad. Not even close.
Further into it, eventually around the 1800's my great great grandpa and his brothers left Illinois into the great plains. Each brother stopped at a certain city in the covered wagon, with my great great grandpa being the last one of the brothers to end up at a city, which was in Montana. (Don't remember which city).
While my great great grandpa was going hunting once in Montana, he was confronted by a tribe on Native Americans. However, he began to act like he was mad, for he knew that Natives have a religious belief that it was bad luck to kill a crazy man, so they let him go.
That's really all I know about my ancestry heritage. My grandpa grew up during WWII, so I could tell you stories he told me about what life was like during that time.