“I’d like to sail in the boat, on the lake, if there’s room,” ventured Oliver. “I wouldn’t be afraid.”
“I don’t know about that,” said the lieutenant. “I don’t know but what you’d better go on up to Fort Hall with François and party. I’m sending them, in a minute or two, so as to cut down the drain on the supplies.”
“I’d—like—to—stay,” faltered Oliver. “Kit said I could eat my dog—but maybe I won’t have to.”
“You’re liable to eat worse than dog, if you do stay,” warned the lieutenant, with a sudden smile lighting his countenance. And he added: “But stay you shall. You’re a brave lad, and I like courage.”
The horse corral and the little fort, both of cottonwood or poplar trunks, were finished; and in the latter was mounted the battered but faithful brass howitzer. Nobody might tell yet how many Indians, perhaps Utes, perhaps Snakes, perhaps Root Diggers, perhaps strangers more savage, might be spying and planning attack upon these few invaders; so precautions were taken. This being done, François Lajeunesse and some others were told off by the lieutenant, to go back up the Bear and on to Fort Hall, there to wait.
After François and companions left, the Carson-Frémont camp on the Weber River consisted of the lieutenant and Kit, Basil Lajeunesse, Baptiste Bernier, Baptiste Derosier, François Badeau, Mr. Preuss, Jacob Dodson the young colored man, and Oliver. Sergeant Zindel had started with the François squad, but Jacob knew how to handle the gun.
The day was spent in patching and strengthening the rubber boat, in making scientific observations, and in exploring the country near at hand. The sunset was beautiful, orange and green, reflected in the waters of the great lake—a sunset so peculiar that it might have been enchantment by a wizard, testing his spells after the frowns of the genie had failed. However, nobody was afraid of the wizard, and the supper of yampa roots and a fat duck which Jacob had shot tasted good. The spells by a stout heart are much stronger than any spells by any wizard.
It was planned that the next day a voyage should be made to the nearest of the islands. Neither Kit Carson nor Lieutenant Frémont put much stock in tales of whirlpool and ravenous monsters and club-bearing giants—although, of course, who could say! But they hoped to find upon the islands flowers and fruits and crystal streams and much game, never before witnessed by human being.
Jacob, and François Badeau and Baptiste Derosier had been named to garrison the little fort. After an early breakfast the lieutenant and Kit, Mr. Preuss and Basil and Baptiste Bernier busied themselves in packing the boat, tied to the river-bank, with blankets and scientific instruments and three rubber bags of water and a little food.
“Wall, boy,” remarked Kit Carson, with a twinkle, eyeing Oliver, who lingered near, “looks as though you’d better stay ashore.”