During the past few days the boys had learned that Independence, Missouri, located not many miles from Kansas City, was one of the places at which thousands of emigrants for the West were gathering, with their wagons and their horses and cattle. It was still early in the year and the pioneers were waiting for the grass to grow, so that they might have fodder for their animals during the long and tedious journey overland.
"They say it will take at least three months to get across the Rocky Mountains and into California," said Mark.
"Yes, and it may take longer—so I heard one man say," returned Bob. "He said nobody would dare to try getting over the mountains after the snow began to fall. If we can't get over by the first of November, we'll have to stay on this side until next spring."
"We'll have to get a regular outfit,—or else join some company going over."
"I'd rather have my own outfit."
"Oh, so would I."
That night they landed near Cairo—which was only a small place in those days. They offered the scow to a number of boatmen and finally disposed of the craft in a most unusual manner.
"See heah," said a man from Alabama, who sat on a mule, chewing a quid of tobacco. "If you're out fer a trade—I'm with yer. I allowed I was gwine to Californy on th' back o' this mule. But I've changed my mind an' I'm gwine home. If ye want to swap the scow fer the mule speak up; an' if ye don't, hold yer peace. Washington Gossnacker has spoken."
"Let's take him up," whispered Mark. "The mule may come in handy."
"What will you give to boot?" asked Bob, cautiously.