Ere many days had passed away Chase found that he could get on just as well without Brown as he had done with him. He met any number of teamsters and emigrants, who willingly answered his questions concerning the route before him, and if he happened on a camp during the dinner or supper hour, he was cordially invited to “stop and take a bite.” Of course he was always obliged to tell his story to those whose hospitality he shared, and when he departed, he was invariably provided with all the cooked provisions he was willing to carry in addition to his bundle, and they never cost him a cent. At that rate his thirteen dollars would last him until he reached home. Of course, too, the journey grew more and more monotonous and wearisome as the days passed, and, worse than all, the thick, strong shoes he had purchased before leaving Independence, began to show signs of wear. But just as they were ready to drop to pieces, he met a kind-hearted emigrant, who gave him a pair of old boots, which, although much too large for him, served to keep his feet off the hard, rocky road. It was getting colder, too, every day; the leaves were falling from the trees, the wind whistled dismally through the gorges, the teams and wagon-trains were not as often met as at first, and everything told Chase that winter was fast approaching. “You’d better toddle along right peert,” said one of the teamsters to him. “Bolton, which is the nighest station, is two hundred and fifty miles away yet, and we’re going to ketch it in a few days. When she does come she’ll be a snorter. You’ve got a good stretch of prairie to cross after you leave the foot-hills, and you don’t want to get ketched out there in a snow-storm. Look out for that.”
Chase gave heed to the friendly warning, and made headway as rapidly as possible. “Two hundred and fifty miles,” he kept saying to himself. His journey was not half completed, and it seemed to him that he had been an age on the road. Would he ever reach Bolton? Sometimes he was almost ready to give up trying, and lie down in the road and wait until the snows of winter came and covered him up. Then recollections of home and friends would come thronging upon him, and he would press forward with renewed energy, in spite of blistered feet and weary, aching limbs, which sometimes almost refused to sustain him. He was up before the sun, and continued his journey until long after dark. His situation at best was bad enough, but one night he met with an adventure that made it infinitely worse.
As he was hurrying along after dark, he came suddenly upon a camp-fire. He was glad to see it, for he had not met a human being for the last three days, and the provisions that had been furnished him by the last teamster were all exhausted. He hoped to procure a fresh supply at this camp. If he could not, he would be obliged to spend a day or two in trapping grouse; and he was so very much afraid of the snow-storm which had been so often predicted, that he did not dare to waste a single hour. Furthermore, the road of late had been growing very rough and rocky, and he could no longer see the prints of wagon-wheels. He began to fear that while travelling in the dark, he had lost his way. Perhaps these people could set him right. He walked boldly up to the fire and greeted the men sitting there—two rough-looking fellows, whom he at once put down as hunters.
“Good evening, strangers,” said he.
“Wal, what do you want?” growled one of the men, after they had both given him a good looking over.
“Will you give me some supper and permission to sleep by your fire?” asked Chase, rather doubtfully. This was the first time during his fifteen days in the mountains that any one had spoken to him so roughly.
“I don’t reckon we’ve got any more grub nor we want ourselves,” was the surly response.
“O, I don’t ask you to give it to me,” said Chase. “I am able and willing to pay for it.”
“You got any shiners?” asked the hunter, running his eyes over the boy’s clothes.
“I know I don’t look like it, but I can prove my words. See there,” said Chase, putting his hand into his pocket and drawing out several gold and silver pieces.