“More trouble ahead!” cried Roger, starting back, for he did not fancy a hand-to-hand conflict with that furious beast, intent on claiming the game that had fallen to Dick’s gun.
“Do nothing rash!” admonished the other, who knew the headstrong ways of his cousin, and wished to prevent any action that might precipitate a struggle.
“But see how the beast acts! As if he owned the earth, Dick!”
“Well, what of it?” came the steady reply, for Dick was hastening his reloading operations while talking, something Roger did not seem to have thought of.
“But you shot the bull, Dick,” urged the other.
“Then I make of him a present to our friend, the big cat,” Dick told him. “We have quite enough meat out on the open, all we can manage. Besides, I pity your teeth if you ever try to bite into the flesh of that tough old rascal. Move around, and let the cat be. That’s all he asks of us.”
“But, Dick, I don’t like to let it seem as though the two of us were afraid of just a hungry panther,” remonstrated Roger, who was proud of his valor.
“Oh! for that matter, there’s the poor old wolf, you remember. And in a short time the air will be black with buzzards coming to the feast from a distance of miles around. Let good enough alone, as I’ve heard your mother tell you, many’s the time.”
Grumbling a little, and sending more than one aggressive look backward toward the audacious panther, Roger finally agreed to accompany his chum out to where the other victims lay.
The rest of the herd had galloped away, and were far distant by this time, though now lacking a gallant protector. And, lying where they had fallen, were the yearling bull and another, for both boys had made capital shots.
“What shall we do first?” asked Roger.
“I want to see you charge that rifle of yours before we start a single thing,” he was told bluntly by his companion.
“Oh! I had forgotten that part of the game, but you know I generally do reload without any loss of time, Dick. I learned that long years ago, and many a time, as I can distinctly remember, it saved me a heap of trouble.”
This duty having been accomplished, Roger waited to hear what they were to attempt next; for as a rule he was content to let Dick do the planning.
“While you go and fetch the horses, Roger, I’ll start to cutting up this fine young bull. You’ve got your bearings, of course, and know just where we left our mounts?”
“I surely do know,” the other replied, “and I’ll have them here before long. If I were you, Dick, I’d keep one eye out for that slippery beast of a panther. For all any one can say, he may take a notion that he prefers tender meat to tough. And that I’d call carrying the joke too far.”
“Depend on it, Roger, I’ll keep my gun handy all the while, and, if Mr. Panther gives me any trouble, I’ll be tempted to waste a bullet on him. Get back as soon as you can, that’s all.”
With that advice ringing in his ears Roger hurried off, while Dick, drawing his hunting knife with the buckhorn handle, proceeded to first remove most of the skin of the young bull, so that it could be used to wrap around the meat. After this he started to cut away such choice portions as he meant to keep.
Every now and then as was his habit, he raised his head to take a quick glance around; but neither the panther nor the wolf came into sight. Evidently the hungry animals were not excessively particular about the tenderness of their meat, if only the supply proved sufficient.
Roger came galloping up after a bit, leading the second horse. The animal did considerable snorting, as horses always will when they scent freshly spilled blood; but Roger knew how to stake them out so that they could not wander away.
After that he commenced dressing the second buffalo, also a yearling. Since both boys had had considerable experience in this, they made fair work, and the two piles of fresh meat mounted up by degrees.
It was just as well, for evening was not far away now, the day having drawn on toward its close. Off yonder, in the glowing west, the sun was sinking, and beginning to paint the fleecy white clouds a vivid red that had strange fluted columns running up and down. To the imagination of the two boys these were the beckoning fingers that tempted them always, just as the rainbow for ages past has promised a pot of gold to him who could find the spot where its foot rested on the earth.
The two bundles of meat were tied securely, and fastened to the backs of the prancing horses. Then the boys set off, expecting to strike the camp of the expedition along the bank of the river.
As they passed the timber they could see something of a commotion in the place where they had had their adventure with the savage old buffalo bull. Dozens of big bald-headed birds were sitting on dead limbs of the trees, now dropping awkwardly down to the ground, and anon flapping back to their perches.
“The buzzards came, just as I thought they would,” remarked Dick; “but they’ll have to wait for the second table, because that cat and the wolf must first be served. When they can hold no more they may go away and let the poor buzzards have a chance.”
Dick did not have any particular trouble in finding his bearings. It had been indelibly impressed on his mind that the river lay to the north, and, with the setting sun on their left, it would be no difficult task to find the water.
He had also figured out about where the boats and the horses would bring up when the day’s toll had been taken, so that he was now making what he would have called a bee-line for that particular place.
The sun was down behind the level horizon at last, and shadows had begun to creep out of their hiding-places. Roger began to feel a little anxiety concerning their hoped-for arrival at the river.
“It seems to be further than I thought,” he ventured to say presently.
“Meaning the river, I suppose,” remarked Dick, calmly. “Yes, I expected that it would take us some little time to get there, because there was a big bend just at the place we left the water, on sighting that hill which we climbed to look around for game.”
“Dick, I believe I see something that flickers ahead of us!” exclaimed Roger just then.
“It must be the light of the fires, which as usual have been built below the river-bank, so that their glow may not betray the camp to hostile eyes. Yes, just as you say, Roger, we are getting there, and will be in on time.”
“Oh! as to that, Dick,” said the other with a laugh, “even if supper is started they will be sure to switch off and give this fresh buffalo meat the first showing. But, for one, I shall be glad to rest. After all that prancing around my tree every muscle in my legs cries out in pain, I do believe.”
They were not long in arriving at the camp, and, when the campers found what the packages that the horses carried contained, they greeted the newcomers with cheery words of welcome and of thanks.
It was a lively scene, with the boats drawn up on the sandy beach under the river-bank; the horses picketed out to graze; the tents that had been erected to serve as sleeping quarters for the company; and the blazing fires about which the cooks were starting to cook the evening meal. For a background to the picture there was the ever-murmuring river, and the boys, many a time, wished they were able to send a loving message down those hundreds of miles to the little settlement of St. Louis, where their loved ones dwelt.
They knew that a monumental task still lay before them, since the terrible, rocky mountains, of which they had heard vague stories from the Indians, had to be scaled, as well as trackless wastes of desert land crossed, before they could hope to feast their eyes on the blue sea which was their goal.
Still, the whole summer lay before them, and they had already surmounted so many obstacles that nothing seemed to daunt those bold spirits. Each day’s journey they counted another link in the chain, and, having virtually burned their bridges behind them, it became a necessity that they succeed.
The supper was finally cooked, and those who were not on duty as guards settled down to enjoy what had been prepared. As usual Dick and Roger found places close together, for they were chums in everything, and liked to chat while eating.
“This pays me for all my trouble with that old bull,” remarked Roger as he munched away. “Sweeter meat I never tasted, if I do say it myself.”
“Oh! I agree with you there,” Dick told him. “But I find myself wondering why Captain Lewis keeps looking over this way so often. And then, too, it strikes me he is unusually solemn to-night. What do you say, Roger?”
“I hadn’t noticed it before,” came the reply presently, “but, now that you call my attention to the fact, I really believe you are right. He does look as if something had gone wrong. I wonder what could have happened while we were away this afternoon.”
“We may have to take it out in guessing,” Dick observed, “unless the Captain decides to tell us about it, which is hardly likely. But the rest of the men seem to be noisier and in better humor than usual. There’s Andrew Waller keeping a lot of them roaring with laughter as he tells some comical story. I never saw him so lively, come to think of it.”
About the time all of them were through eating, Dick discovered that Captain Meriwether Lewis was walking directly toward the spot where he and his chum still sat. A couple of convenient stones had afforded them resting places; but, as the commander of the expedition paused beside them, both lads immediately sprang to their feet, courteously offering the captain a seat.
“I will accept if one of you can sit tailor-fashion on the ground,” remarked Captain Lewis, but without any sign of merriment in his voice, for he was still looking very grave. “I want to speak with both of you lads, and it is concerning a subject in which you are deeply interested.”
Of course that aroused their curiosity at once, and Roger lost no time in dropping upon the sand, where he could make himself fairly comfortable.
As soon as they were all seated again the captain began:
“While you two boys were away on your hunt this afternoon, something happened which deepened my suspicion that we have a traitor among us. By a mere accident I picked up a bit of paper that some one must have drawn from his pocket unknown to himself. Glancing idly at it I was startled at what I read.”
He looked around him as though to make certain that no eye watched his action, and then placed a small piece of paper, very much wrinkled and soiled, in Dick’s hand. Together the boys fastened their eyes on the writing and made out the fragment of a sentence:
“if you think it unsafe to stay longer in the camp, join us; but be sure and bring plenty of guns and ammunition along, for we need them.”
There was no signature, but the boys did not doubt in the least that the one whose hand had Penned this note of instructions was François Lascelles or his equally rascally son, Alexis. The question was, who could the recipient be, and how were they to find out.
“After you found this paper, Captain, you watched to see if any one seemed to be searching for anything, I suppose?” Dick asked eagerly.
“All the afternoon I have kept on the alert, but, whoever the villain is, he has either not discovered his loss, or else has assumed an appearance of indifference in order to blind hostile eyes.”
“But how do you suppose he could have received the message?” continued Dick.
“That, too, may always remain a mystery,” continued the other, reflectively, “but an arrangement could have been made whereby certain stones that were laid down in a peculiar manner would direct him to search in a hollow stump or under a log for a letter. All we know is that this traitor did receive his message, and started to tear it to pieces, but on second thought kept part of the letter.”
“It will be his undoing yet, sir, I think,” Roger ventured to suggest. “Too bad there was no name mentioned, so we could charge him with the deed, and punish him as he deserves. I am wild to know who he is, for I shall long remember how he tried to put an end to us in the rapids of the Yellowstone.”
“Perhaps you may, and that before another dawn comes,” remarked the captain, as he smiled indulgently at the headstrong boy, whom he had come to like very much, as, indeed, he did Dick, also.
“That sounds as though you had made a plan of campaign, Captain,” Dick observed, with a pleased look that was only exceeded by the smile on the face of his companion.
“I have laid out a little scheme which I think may work well, and trap the guilty wretch in the toils,” explained the captain. “You remember the special mention made of guns and ammunition, which he was told to take with him, if he really believed his usefulness in the camp had come to an end? That gave me my clew.”
“The bait will be a stock of powder and ball, and perhaps several guns, unless I fail to catch your meaning, sir?” Dick continued.
“Before we go to sleep, to-night, I shall have three men, whose names I need not mention, know that there are several good guns, and quite a quantity of ammunition for them, in the supply tent where we keep our extra provisions. It is not guarded beyond the fact that sentries are posted outside the camp to watch for enemies. But to-night both of you boys, together with myself and Captain Clark, will be in hiding, ready to capture any one who ventures to enter that supply tent.”
“Thank you for thinking of us, sir,” exclaimed Roger, warmly.
“Why should I not do so, when the first intimation I received that there was a traitor in the camp came through you two boys? And, besides, you are more deeply interested in his capture and punishment than any of the others, because this unknown spy is working hand and glove with François Lascelles, who hates you most bitterly.”
“Tell us what to do, Captain, and you can rely on our working with you to the best of our ability,” Dick assured the commander, who smiled at him and went on to explain further.
“Understand then, that, later on, both of you, when not observed, are to take your guns and disappear. I will look to find you in that bunch of brush yonder to the right, and from that point we can watch the supply tent until something happens. I think the bait will be sufficiently attractive to tempt the man to make his move, meaning to steal the guns and ammunition, after which he hopes to leave us in the lurch. After we make sure that he is inside the tent, we can creep up and face him as he comes out laden with his booty. That is enough, since you understand,” with which the captain laughingly arose to his feet and sauntered away, leaving the boys thrilled through and through.
“I wonder if the plan will work?” remarked Roger, when he and Dick once more found themselves alone, the captain having sauntered over to where some of the men were joking, Andrew Waller being the life of the company.
“If that torn part of a message meant anything,” Dick told him, “and Captain Lewis is able to bait the trap in the right way, I believe this night will see the answer to the question that has been bothering us so long.”
“Meaning that we will learn who the traitor is?” continued the other.
“Yes. Right now we are no nearer the truth than a week ago, you know, Roger. It may be any one of the three men we had in mind; or some one else, for that matter.”
“Look at Andrew Waller, Dick. He seems to be in high spirits! Do you think that is all put on for effect? From the way he acts no one could ever dream he had an evil thought in his heart for his comrades of the long trail.”
“As we exhausted that subject a long time ago, Roger, and have learned nothing new since, there’s no use trying to figure things out. Better wait, and, as my father says, ‘hold our horses’ until the trap is sprung—if it ever is.”
“But, if we do trip him up,” continued Roger, reflectively, “what do you believe Captain Lewis will do to the wretch?”
“He has not given us even a hint on that score,” Dick replied.
“If the man is a traitor, and really tried to take our lives for pay, it seems to me it would be a shame if he were only drummed out of camp for such things. I know what Captain Clark would do if it rested in his hands.”
“Yes, and I can guess the answer there, too, Roger; because he is a soldier, with stern ideas of what treachery means. But Captain Lewis has a tender heart, for all he can be so firm. He is very fond of the men who have clung to his fortunes in this great journey into the unknown country of the West.”
“Do you really mean to say, Dick, he would forgive the rascal on that account?” demanded Roger, with a frown of displeasure on his face.
“Not exactly that,” hastily replied the other lad. “I am sure that he would not want to trust such a man again, but, at the same time, Captain Lewis would not believe it necessary to have the traitor shot, as a soldier would.”
“In that case there would be only one other thing to do,” observed Roger, disconsolately; “which would be to kick him out of camp, and warn him, just as he did Lascelles, that if he ever allowed himself to be seen near the camp again it would be at his peril.”
“Mark my words, Roger, if we are lucky enough to catch the man in the act, that is what will happen to him. But, before he goes, he will listen to a ringing talk from Captain Lewis that will make his cheeks burn.”
“Yes, and not for all the money Lascelles ever owned would I want to have such a fine man as Captain Lewis tell me that, as a traitor to my trust, I had sunk down until I was beneath contempt. But I wonder, Dick, how he will manage to let them know about the rifles and ammunition in the supply tent?”
“Depend on it the captain has that arranged cleverly enough,” Dick declared, “and he will accomplish it without awakening any suspicion that it has been done for a purpose.”
“What shall we do next?” asked Roger.
“Wait for his signal as arranged with us,” explained Dick. “When we get that, it is our duty to slip out of camp without being noticed, and settle down in that patch of brush, just as he said. Later on, he will join us there, and bring Captain Clark with him.”
They sat there and exchanged words for quite a long time, while the evening waned, and some of the tired men, who had been poling or rowing all day, began to creep into the tents, or, it might be, under rude bough shelters, where they expected to sleep through the remainder of the night.
“The time has come at last,” said Dick, in a low tone.
“Did you see Captain Lewis make the gesture he explained to us?” asked his chum.
“Yes, and now let us see how smartly we can carry out our part of the game, as we laid it out in advance.”
After surveying the field, the boys concluded that, by pretending to settle down in a certain place, they could withdraw by degrees without being noticed, and come up in the rear of the patch of bushes marked by the commander as the meeting spot.
This maneuver was accomplished with considerable skill, because both lads were well drilled in Indian ways, and could snake their way along the ground as well as any painted brave on the warpath, seeking to spy on the enemy’s camp.
In due time, therefore, they crept into the bushes, and settled down to await the coming of the two captains. Just as they expected, from their place of hiding it was possible to keep a close watch upon the supply tent, though the latter stood in the shadows, with the firelight playing on one side of it only.
Slowly the minutes crept along. The boys rarely exchanged words, and then only in the lowest of whispers; nor did they make any sort of move, lest in some way keen eyes discover their presence amidst the bushes.
It seemed ages before Roger pressed the arm of his cousin, and spoke in his ear.
“Something moving behind us, Dick!”
The other had also caught a faint rustling sound, and knew that in all probability the two captains must be about to join them. Surely enough, in a short time the men reached the side of the boys, exercising all the skill possible to avoid making their presence known to others.
Few words passed between them, for the plan of campaign had been laid out, and each one knew what lay before them. The firelight flickered upon the side of the supply tent, and it was in this quarter mostly that their gaze was fastened. In fact, Captain Lewis and his fellow officer depended wholly on the wide-awake boys to let them know when anything happened, for they themselves lay stretched out at full length upon the ground.
One by one the men sitting by the fire began to vanish, some yawning, and others simply stretching themselves with the air of weariness natural after a strenuous day at the oars.
Finally an atmosphere of desertion seemed to have come upon the camp. The fire died down slowly, and not a movement could be seen. Somewhere, near by, the appointed sentries stood guard, but their duty was wholly in the line of making sure that an enemy did not surprise the adventurous company from without. Those in the camp were supposed to be above suspicion.
Roger was beginning to grow impatient. The minutes were dragging along, so far as he was concerned, and he began to fear that, after all, the scheme, so cleverly planned by Captain Lewis, would fail to be a success.
What if the fellow had become suspicious, and determined not to allow himself to be attracted by the bait? They would have their long night vigil for nothing, and be no nearer to learning the truth than before. Roger lacked the patience and perseverance of his chum, though he had many good qualities of his own.
It must have been almost midnight when Dick caught sight of a shadowy figure moving just beyond the supply tent. At first he thought it might be a wolf that had boldly crept into the camp, though such a thing seemed absurd; then he became satisfied that it must be a man on his hands and knees, crawling along slowly, and heading for the isolated tent.
When satisfied in this respect he whispered in the ear of Roger, and touched both the recumbent captains on the arm. This had been a signal agreed on in case of necessity, and, as they were on the alert, they lost no time in making good use of their eyes.
The creeper was now close to the tent. Every few feet he would sink down flat to the ground, and remain perfectly still for a time. No doubt at such intervals the man was listening intently to discover the slightest movement in the camp that might mean danger to him.
Both boys fairly held their breath when they saw the shadowy figure reach the tent and hastily creep under the flap. Just how long it would take him to find what he was after no one could say, but the time had arrived for those who were watching the tent to make a forward move.
Fortunately the breeze started up just then, and rustled the leaves of the trees overhead. It came from a quarter that also bore the sounds of the fretting river, where rocky reefs impeded the progress of the current; so that a combination of sounds helped to deaden any little rustling noise the four watchers might make in rising to their feet and moving forward.
Every detail had been arranged, and they made immediately for the darker side of the tent. This was to avoid having their shadows appear on the canvas, and arousing the suspicions of the thief.
Having taken up their positions here, they waited for what was to follow, confident that the guilty one could not possibly escape them.
He could be heard moving around inside the tent. Once he upset some object that fell to the ground with a soft thud, and they even heard his low muttered exclamation of annoyance. After that all was still for an interval, as doubtless he strained his hearing to learn whether the sound had aroused any curiosity in the mind of a sentry.
Then the movements started again, proving that renewed confidence was making the marauder bolder.
Dick and Roger had their guns ready, according to orders. If the man attempted to escape after being ordered to surrender their duty would be to shoot, although the endeavor would be to wound instead of to kill.
The movements within the tent had now ceased, and it was probable that the man had secured all he sought to acquire. That meant his next act would be to make his exit. Dick had not overlooked the chance of his creeping under the canvas at the rear of the tent, and, if they failed to see anything of him by the time another minute passed, he meant to creep around and ascertain whether this had been attempted.
Roger, giving a faint gasp, warned his chum that some one was coming. Then all of them caught sight of a dusky figure bending low as it crept out of the tent.
“Stand still and surrender, or you are a dead man!” suddenly exclaimed Captain Lewis, as, with his three companions, he stepped forward.
The thief made no attempt to run, for he knew what the result must be when he saw those rifles in the hands of the two boys. So they pushed up until they could make sure of his identity; and somehow neither Roger nor Dick felt any great surprise when they discovered that the man they had captured was Andrew Waller.
The man held a couple of guns in his hands and was apparently loaded down with the ammunition that had been left as a most attractive bait. He hung his head as if at first overcome with a sense of shame; nor could the boys blame him for giving way to this feeling.
Some of the other men, awakened by the loud command of Captain Lewis, now came hurrying toward the spot. They were undoubtedly greatly astonished to discover what was taking place. And among the first to arrive were Drewyer and Fields, the two who in turn had been unjustly suspected of being the guilty person.
“Take those guns away from him,” ordered Captain Lewis, “and then search him for ammunition! He was carrying off a good part of our visible supply, and meant to join forces with those rascally Frenchmen we let go last fall, fellows who are once more hanging about our trail for evil purposes.”
Waller made no attempt to resist. Indeed, it would have been a foolish thing on his part, and could only have resulted in his being roughly treated. So presently they had stripped him of all his stolen goods, and even his own gun had been taken away.
After that he had to listen to the stinging words of reproach which Captain Lewis heaped upon him.
“The man who betrays his trust as you have done, Waller,” said the other in conclusion, “deserves to be stood up before a file of soldiers and shot. That fate, indeed, would be your portion if you were an enlisted man, and had taken the oath of fidelity to the country. As it is I intend simply to send you out of this camp with the scorn of all honest men ringing in your ears. You can find those French friends of yours and make your bed with them.”
“But you will not think of turning me out into the wilderness without some weapon with which to secure food, or to protect myself against the wild beasts?” the man found his tongue to say, with anxiety in his voice.
“Gun you shall have none, in punishment for your offense,” he was sternly told. “Your hunting knife and a hatchet will be given to you, also a certain amount of provisions, sufficient to last you several days. For the rest, look you to those friends whose gold you accepted to betray these lads; for we can now understand who it was knifed their skin boat so that it might sink with them in the rapids!”
The man at bay opened his mouth as though tempted to declare that he had had nothing to do with such a base affair; but, on second thought, he stifled his intended denial. He must have decided that, since exposure had come, the less he had to say the better it would be for him in the end.
Under the orders of Captain Lewis his knife and hatchet were returned to him. Then a package of food was made ready and also given into his charge. Some of the men were grumbling to themselves, as though they did not approve of such leniency, for, according to their way of thinking, a traitor deserved but one punishment, and one that would place it out of his power to repeat his fault.
The man did not attempt to plead for mercy. He had a certain amount of pride; and, besides, he feared lest he be turned over to the soldiers for punishment, and he knew what to expect in that case.
“Now go forth,” Captain Lewis told him, “and seek your new friends, or join the Indians whose treacherous ways you have even shamed by your acts. We warn you not to be seen again by any in this camp. Such is your reward for turning against those who trusted you. That is all.”
Waller drew a long breath. He knew what it meant for him, should he fail to find the Frenchmen. Hundreds of miles lay between that spot and the nearest white settlement; and, unless he could get in touch with some of the Indian tribes along the Missouri, he would starve by the time another winter came around.
Being a woodsman, Waller of course knew many of the secrets of Nature, and could prolong his life by means of clever snares in which to catch small animals; but, with the coming of cold weather, his case would be pitiful unless he had help.
Dick felt sorry for the man at first. He believed Waller had simply yielded to temptation when he accepted the Frenchman’s gold and agreed to work in his interest.
That feeling, however, did not last long, for, as the man started to leave the camp, he looked at the staring men contemptuously, and, on passing the two boys, scowled blackly, as the light of the resurrected fire disclosed.
“We may meet again!” he told Roger as he passed him; and there was a deep significance back of the words.
Perhaps it was fortunate for Andrew Waller that Captain Clark did not happen to hear what he muttered; for the soldier might have insisted that some more drastic punishment, than mere dismissal from the camp, be visited upon the culprit. But the threat was not heard by those in authority, and Waller went out into the darkness, and they saw no more of him for the time.
During the remainder of the night the boys slept peacefully. It was a great satisfaction to them both to feel that the mystery had now been solved, and that they need no longer fear treachery in the camp.
Then again it pleased Dick to know that neither Drewyer nor Fields had been connected with the plot against them, for he was very fond of both men, in a way, and had always believed them to be as honest as they were capable. History has written their names on the scroll of honor whereby the heroes of this remarkable enterprise are ever to be remembered.
On the following morning the journey was resumed. Day succeeded day, and in many particulars they were very much alike. The travelers had difficulties to surmount, and often met with delays that were exasperating; but through it all shone that indomitable spirit that would not admit defeat.
“We have come too far to quit now,” Captain Lewis would say when they were facing some new difficulty, “and the only thing to do is to push ahead despite temporary checks. The goal will soon be in sight, and the victory won. Then will come the reward when all men honor our names, and give us our meed of praise. It will be worth all it costs to win the thanks of the whole nation.”
In this manner he cheered them when their spirits drooped. There never could have been a finer leader for such a tremendous undertaking than the former private secretary of President Jefferson. Every man in all that company felt that he would willingly go through fire and flood for Captain Lewis.
From time to time they met with Indians on the river, or came to some village on the bank. These natives had never as yet seen white men, and were, as a rule, disposed to be friendly. They seemed to have learned about a Great Father far away toward the rising sun, who was very rich and powerful, and whose favor it might pay them to seek.
Among the trappers connected with the party there were always those who could communicate with the Indians, partly by signs, but also with the aid of other and allied Indian tongues. In this way, then, it was possible to learn much concerning the nature of the country toward the west.
Strange, indeed, were many of the stories that came to the ears of the travelers. They heard of burning deserts, where for ten days they would find nothing but wastes of sand, except for a few cacti, or prickly pears. Here they were likely to leave their bones to the vultures and the prowling coyotes—the latter a small species of the wolf tribe, which the men of the expedition had begun to notice collecting about their camp at nights. These animals kept up a miserable chant in chorus, but they possessed a very cowardly nature, quite unlike the gray timber wolf.
If Captain Lewis and his followers had not possessed stout hearts they would have been dismayed by all they heard of the country lying beyond. The mountains reached above the clouds, rearing themselves in a most forbidding way, and were exceedingly rocky and devoid of vegetation.
Besides, there were tribes of fierce Indians living in the deep canyons who would lie in wait to overwhelm the pilgrims in hopes of obtaining their horses and those wonderful sticks that spat out fire. The beasts inhabiting those elevations were also awe inspiring, especially the bears, which, as the travelers already knew, were of the ferocious variety known as grizzlies.
In spite of all these thrilling stories there was no disposition manifested on the part of the explorers to back down. They had already met many perils without flinching, and it was too late now to show the white feather.
The summer was now well along, and, before a great while, they could expect to arrive at the headwaters of the Big Muddy. The two captains had decided that, when it was no longer possible to continue with the boats, they would make a permanent camp, where a portion of the expedition could spend the coming winter, while a certain number pushed on, to cross the rocky barrier and reach the sea, if such an accomplishment could be carried out.
Every day began to see changes in the flowing current upon which they had been voyaging for so many months. Remembering its extreme width, down where their homes were located, it was hard indeed for the boys to believe that this narrow ribbon of clear water was the same stream.
“All that its banks hold these days,” Dick had explained to Roger when the other was expressing these ideas, “comes from the melting snows away up in those mountains whose tops we sometimes think we can see far, far away to the west. That is why it is so clear and cold, and the fish we catch now are not like the ones we have often brought in to our mothers at home.”
“The beautiful one, with the specks that were all the colors of the rainbow, must have been some kind of trout,” Roger continued, his face lighting up eagerly, for he was a born angler, “and I only hope we are able to catch many more of the same kind. I never tasted such a fine fish, and the meat was of the true trout color, too.”
“I think we can depend on taking many a fine mess of them from now on,” Dick continued, “though we must try to find out from the Indians just where they lurk in the river. Perhaps one of these smaller creeks, that empty into the Missouri, may turn out to be a good place.”
“To-morrow will be our chance then,” Roger announced, “because I heard Captain Clark tell some of the men we would likely hold over for a day, so as to mend one of the boats that has been leaking badly and needs attention.”
“Let us consider it settled that way, then, Roger; and we shall see what sort of luck the best of bait will fetch us. In some of the old stumps and dead wood we can find big, fat grubs, which I am sure the fish will take to savagely.”
“I mean to start looking for bait this very evening when we make camp,” declared Roger, evincing the greatest interest, for the memory of the feast they had enjoyed when that splendid speckled fish was broiled over the red coals had haunted him ever since.
That afternoon the air was unusually clear, and every one was able to see, off in the distance, the lofty peaks of the mountain barrier which must be scaled by the adventurous travelers before they could hope to reach the slopes, on the west, leading down to the blue waters of the Pacific. Somehow the knowledge that on this summer day they had almost arrived at another positive stage of their great undertaking inspired their hearts with fresh hope. And in that cheering atmosphere camp was made when the shadows began to fall.
“If you think you can get on without me, Dick, I’d like to slip away for a little time,” Roger was saying, after the boats had been run ashore, the horses tethered among the trees, and preparations for supper, with an attendant air of bustle, were well underway.
Of course Dick knew what was in the wind. He had not forgotten the remark made by his comrade that, if the chances were favorable, he meant to spend half an hour or so that evening collecting worms and grubs to be used as bait when they tried their luck at fishing on the next day.
“To be sure I can,” he told Roger, with a smile. “All you have to do is to trot along with your hatchet, and something to put the grubs in—if you find any.”
“Oh! I’m not afraid of being left in the lurch there,” asserted Roger, stoutly. “I can see plenty of signs of dead wood around here. A fierce storm must have swept across this section many years ago, that leveled plenty of big trees, which are now rotting on the ground. Grubs like to hide in that sort of decayed stuff. Look for me by the time it gets dusk.”
“Keep your gun near you, and it would be better not to stray too far away from the camp,” warned cautious Dick, speaking on general principles.
“You don’t believe there’s any danger lurking near by, do you?” asked Roger, though failing to show much concern, for his nature was daring and fearless.
“Nothing more than we always count on,” the other told him. “But white men who are in a strange country must always figure on finding an enemy hiding back of some tree or rock, so keep your eyes about you, Roger. If I should hear your gun sound, or catch a hullo, depend on me to come in a hurry.”
Roger only laughed, for he did not believe any peril could lurk so close to the camp. Still, accustomed to being on his guard, he made it a point to see that the powder was in the pan as he tucked his gun under his arm and strode forth.
He found to his relief that there were plenty of old stumps and rotting logs close to where the fires had been started, so that he need not go any great distance away in order to begin his search.
His hatchet was soon brought into play, as he smashed some of the likely looking remnants of once proud forest monarchs. It required little muscular effort, scattering the soft punk-like wood, and, hardly had the boy obtained a fair start, than with a satisfied little cry he reached down and seized an enormous white grub whose home in the heart of the decayed stump he had broken open.
Just as Roger had anticipated, a rich harvest awaited him. Sometimes he came upon half a dozen prizes in one stump, and it was not long before he knew that, before the darkness became too dense for him to see how to work, he would have secured all the bait they could possibly use on the following morning.
At any rate, they would always have their hatchets with them, and, should their supply run low, there would be plenty of other opportunities to replenish their store.
So it was that he returned to camp much sooner than Dick in his most sanguine moments had imagined possible. There was hardly any need to ask Roger how his quest had turned out, for the broad smile on his tanned face told the story.
“A noble lot of fish lure,” assented Dick, when he had examined the contents of the small box into which Roger had also cast a handful of powdered dead wood, in which his prisoners could conceal themselves. “I must say you struck it rich this time.”
“And, unless the weather goes against us when morning comes,” continued Roger, as he fastened up the box so that nothing could get at the bait during the night, “we ought to do some tall fishing, it strikes me. I’d just like to give the whole camp a splendid treat to those beauties of speckled rainbow fish which we believe to be a species of trout.”
All evening long the subject was frequently in his mind, for Roger was one of those persistent persons who, once they have planned anything, can think of little else.
“I tell you what I mean to do after we’ve had our breakfast,” he said at one time during the evening.
“All right,” remarked Dick, who knew how useless it was to try to keep Roger’s mind off his fishing, “suppose you do then, and I’ll jot it down in my notebook, for I’m making up my day’s log, you see. Go on and tell me.”
“If you look over there, Dick, you can see that friendly Indian who has insisted on sticking to us for two days now, walking along the shore, squatting close to our fires, and watching everything we do as though he was head over heels in love with the ways of the palefaces.”
“Yes, I’ve often wondered what he could be thinking about,” admitted Dick. “I’ve seen Captain Lewis trying to talk with him by signs, and often calling one of the men up to help out. From that I judged the Indian might be giving him some valuable information, which was why they allow him to tag after us so long, and even see that he gets his share of food at meal times.”
“Well,” continued Roger, “my idea is to go over to him now, and see if he can understand that we’d like to have him tell us about a good place for fishing in the morning; for, after all, what’s the use of waiting until breakfast time; he might be gone in the night. What do you say to it, Dick?”
“Not a bad scheme,” his chum assented. “And, do you know, I think the brave has taken some little interest in both of us, because a number of times it seemed to me he was watching us closely. There’s your chance now, for that matter, Roger; and, if you find it too hard to make him understand, get Jasper Williams, our good friend, to act as interpreter for you.”
Upon that the impulsive Roger scrambled to his feet and presently he could be seen sitting close to the friendly Indian brave, engaging him in a strange conversation in which hands and smiles took the place of words.
Apparently, Roger finally found the task greater than he could manage, for he called to genial Jasper Williams, who joined them. Then the business of explaining to the dusky son of the wilderness was taken up anew; and with fair success, if the look on Roger’s boyish face meant anything.
When he once more rejoined his chum he was fairly bubbling over with enthusiasm, so that Dick was not at all surprised to hear him exclaim:
“The finest of luck ever, Dick! Would you believe it? that brave tells us there is a small stream emptying into the Missouri a couple of miles above the camp, and that it is reckoned the best place for those big fat trout around this section of the country.”
“That is good news, indeed,” remarked Dick, also pleased. “So we can look forward to supplying the camp with a mess of fish, if all goes well.”
“Not only did he tell us that,” continued the eager lad, “but he agreed to go along with us, and show where the best holes lie; for in hot weather, you know, all trout leave the shallows and gather in the deep, dark pools. If we didn’t know just where those places were we might waste a lot of time trying.”
At the time Dick thought they were very fortunate to be able to command the services of the friendly Indian, and he mentioned this belief to Roger.
“He seems to have taken a great fancy to the whites, and, no matter if he does eat like a hungry dog, we must not complain. He will hardly wish to go much further from his own people, and we may expect to wake up some fine morning to find that the brave has slipped off during the night.”
“So long as he does not steal one of our horses or guns nobody will complain, I guess,” chuckled Roger. “These Indians are a light-fingered set, take them all in all, and Jasper Williams says he never would trust one out of his sight.”
Having made all their fishing arrangements the boys soon afterwards sought their shelter made from branches, and wrapped in their blankets tried to find sleep.
The camp was governed with military strictness, and there were sentries on duty all through the night, for Captain Clark had this part of the arrangements in charge. Not once up to this time had they been taken by surprise, though on several occasions roving bands of Blackfeet or Dacotahs had tried to steal their horses, only to meet with failure.
Securely guarded in this manner, they passed the night in peace, and so another dawn found them. As usual the travelers were early astir, for there were no laggards among them. Every man had his duties to perform, and strict discipline kept them to their various tasks.
Roger of course was about the first one up, though he knew that Dick could not be coaxed to make a start until he had performed every one of his duties as was his custom. If the fish were as plentiful as the friendly Indian had declared, they would have abundance of time to take heavy toll of their number long before noon came around.
“We decided to take one of the smaller boats if it could be spared, you remember, Dick,” Roger was saying as they ate breakfast.
“Yes,” the other replied, “and I’ve already mentioned that to Captain Clark, who gave me full permission to do so. This is certainly one of the times we would enjoy having that buffalo-hide Indian boat we shot the rapids in. I was beginning to think we ought to change our minds about giving it away, when that accident happened, and ruined it for hard work.”
“Accident!” echoed Roger. “We knew different after we found where that sharp knife-blade had been run along the bottom almost through the tough hide. But that sly dog of an Andrew Waller paid dearly for his work. I wonder what became of him; whether he joined the French trader and his son, or went over to the Indians.”
“We may never know,” his chum admitted. “For my part, I hope and trust that neither of us will ever set eyes on Waller again. I did not like the look he gave us when he went out of camp that day; and, like all guilty wretches caught in the act of doing wrong, he blames us for his troubles.”
In good time Dick announced that he was ready to make the start. Roger saw to it that they had the bait. Stout poles had also been secured, to the end of which the fishing lines were fastened. Such things as reels those pioneer lads never knew. When a prize was hooked it was their business to land the captive in the speediest way possible; and, as a rule, this consisted in swinging the struggling trout over their heads on to the land.
The Indian was hovering nearby. Dick fancied that he looked very eager, as though he quite enjoyed the idea of accompanying the pair on their fishing trip, and making himself useful. Perhaps, the boy thought, the poor fellow wished to attach himself to the expedition, on account of the charm it had for his untutored mind; for Indians could feel the desire for adventure such as urged these bold white men to penetrate farther day by day into the unknown country.
The boys picked out the boat best adapted to their needs, and which could be most easily spared. Beckoning to the Indian, the boys prepared to push out on the river. Two paddles were to be the means of urging the light craft against the strong current of the river, and an hour’s time would be ample to see them to their destination, Roger thought, as he commenced to wield the spruce blade vigorously.
Jasper Williams called out a last word of caution as they passed away, up the stream, for he felt a strong interest in these boys with whose fortunes he had been so intimately connected.
“Keep your eyes about you, lads,” was what he told them, “and don’t trust everything you see, just because it looks innocent. There’s a difference between red and white, remember. Good luck to you both!”
Others also called out, begging the boys to remember that they too liked a mess of fresh fish; and, with these friendly voices ringing in their ears, Dick and Roger paddled swiftly up the river, soon losing sight of the explorer’s camp.