"We're the Westport train. Do you come from the Bluffs? Are you for Oregon?"
"Yes. I seen ye comin'. Thought I'd projeck some. Who's that back of ye?" He extended an imperative skinny finger toward Jackson. "If it hain't Bill Jackson hit's his ghost!"
"The same to you, Jim. How!"
The two shook hands without dismounting. Jackson turned grinning to Banion.
"Major," said he, "this is Jim Bridger, the oldest scout in the Rockies, an' that knows more West than ary man this side the Missoury. I never thought to see him agin, sartain not this far east."
[pg 132]
"Ner me," retorted the other, shaking hands with one man after another.
"Jim Bridger? That's a name we know," said Banion. "I've heard of you back in Kentucky."
"Whar I come from, gentlemen--whar I come from more'n forty year ago, near's I can figger. Leastways I was borned in Virginny an' must of crossed Kentucky sometime. I kain't tell right how old I am, but I rek'lect perfect when they turned the water inter the Missoury River." He looked at them solemnly.