“Wants you on that expedition.”
“What expedition?”
“Government.”
“How’d you know?”
“’Cause part of it’s just passed on up through St. Vrain. I was there and saw it. Young army fellow by name of Frémont’s captain, and he said Carson and rest of the crowd are waiting at Laramie. Maxwell was along, too, and he said same. Maxwell’s hunter, Kit’s guide. Kit took one party up by way the North Platte trail, Frémont and Maxwell came in ’cross country by South Platte. They’re all to meet at Fort John or Laramie.”
“Heap doings,” muttered Lieutenant Ike. “What’s the lodge talk?” he asked.
“Oregon trail’s being broken by settlers. First company’s already passed Laramie. Sioux are bad, and Gros Vents and Cheyennes have joined ’em, for war-path up Sweetwater. They’re hot for Crow and white scalps, and Snake hosses. You fellows are liable to lose ha’r.”
“Wagh! But what’s this hyar expedition for?”
“To make the trail wider. To tell the government at Washington where South Pass is, near as I could find out from Maxwell.”
“But who doesn’t know whar South Pass air!” exclaimed a chorus.