She goes still farther to the West—“Then,” said I, “I’ll go to the West.”
I went on the Yellow Stone— * * * *
* * * Two thousand miles on her, and we were at the mouth of Yellow Stone river—at the West. What! invoices, bills of lading, &c., a wholesale establishment so far to the West! And those strange looking, long-haired gentlemen, who have just arrived, and are relating the adventures of their long and tedious journey. Who are they?
Oh! they are some of our merchants just arrived from the West.
And that keel-boat, that Mackinaw-boat, and that formidable caravan, all of which are richly laden with goods.
These, Sir, are outfits starting for the West.
Going to the West, ha? “Then” said I, “I’ll try it again. I will try and see if I can go to the West.”
* * * What, a Fort here, too?
Oui, Monsieur—oui, Monsieur (as a dauntless, and semibarbarian-looking, jolly fellow, dashed forth in advance of his party on his wild horse to meet me.)
What distance are you west of Yellow Stone here, my good fellow?