"Some squatters, like yourselves, who have been two years on the Missouri. You are halfway between the two."
"Have these squatters much cultivated land?"
"They have been going ahead lately. It is already almost a village; soon it will be a town. But anyway, on one side or the other you are separated from men of your own colour by several Indian nations, whose villages it would be dangerous to visit, except in large numbers. In fact your only open route is the Missouri."
"That is something; but, if easy to go down, it is hard to ascend."
"Besides, both sides swarm with redskins."
"Hum! My dear George, that spoils all. What could put it into the mad head of my brother to bring us here? He is a lunatic; for the matter of that, so am I."
George could not help laughing.
"Laugh away, you young rascal," said the squatter; "but if we have to leave our bones here?"
"I hope it will not be so," replied George.
"Jehoshaphat! So do I. Your information is not pleasant; still I thank you. It is best to know the worst."