“No, nothing that goes by gas, for one day, anyhow, Johnson. Well, see to the things—the crew have got the batteau about unloaded, and it’s about time for our mess to go ashore to the cook fire. Sergeant McIntyre, issue the lyed corn with the bear and venison stew to-night, and see that my ink horn and traveling desk are at hand!”
“Yes, sir, very good sir!” returned Rob, gravely. And without a smile the four stalked off up the stair, leaving Johnson to wonder what in the world they meant.
CHAPTER VIII
HO! FOR THE PLATTE!
Uncle Dick excused himself from the party for a time in the evening, having some business to attend to. He left the three boys in their room at a hotel, declaring they all would rather sleep on the houseboat with Johnson.
“It’s mighty quiet on this trip,” said Jesse.
“Nothing happens?” said Rob, looking up from his maps and the Journal which he had spread on the table. “That’s what the explorers thought when they got here! They wanted to start in killing buffalo, but there were no buffalo so close to the river even then. All our hunters got was deer; they lay here a couple of days and got plenty of deer, and did some tanning and ‘jurking.’ Clark says they took this chance to compare their ‘instrimunts,’ and also they ‘suned their powder and wollen articles.’
“Clark killed a deer below here. Drewyer, one of the best hunters, had a fat bear and a deer, too. And Lewis killed a deer next day, so the party was in ‘fine Sperrits.’”