With it all, the boys found the journey up the Mississippi and up the Missouri very interesting. They sat near the bow of the boat,—out of the way of the thick black smoke from the stack—and watched the scenery along the shores. In those days the settlements were nearly all small, and much of the great forests which have since been cut down was standing.
A stop of half an hour was made at St. Louis and the boys had a glimpse of that old French town.
"Some day I fancy this will be a big city," observed Mark.
"Oh, the whole West and Middle West will fill up some day," said Bob. "Uncle Sam's children must go somewhere, and the population is increasing wonderfully."
As soon as the Pride of the River turned into the Missouri they observed the change in the water. Where it had been fairly clear before it was now dark and muddy.
"The mud comes from the banks," said Mark. "They tell me they are washing away continually, so that a fellow may have a big farm on the riverside one day and have about nothing the next!"
The boys had decided to leave the steamboat at a small place known as Brosberry's Landing—somebody having told them that it was a great starting place for gold seekers, being but a few miles from Independence. As soon as the boat tied up they went ashore, Bob leading the mule and Mark carrying his valise and his chum's bundle. A dozen men, of various ages, went with them.
"Here's a new lot of gold hunters!" came the cry, from the dock.
"Two boys an' a mule!" sang out a man who had spotted our young friends. "Goin' to Californy?"
"You bet!" responded Bob, using a common expression of those days.