Those were Guy's thoughts as he moved about, willingly assisting his mother, and the two young girls who, with their brother had left W—— to seek their fortunes in the far West. Guy pitied them very much for they were unused to work and had at that time a great deal to do. So when he went to the spring for water, he brought also a pailful for them, and when he had a leisure moment, he did any little chores for them that he could. He had not noticed them much the night before, but that morning he became quite well acquainted with them; discovered that the elder was called Amy, and the younger Carrie, and that they were both very pleasant, and appreciative of all little acts of kindness.
Before the sun was an hour high, the breakfast had been partaked of, the camp furniture replaced in the wagons and the train put in motion.
Slowly and steadily the well-trained mules and the patient oxen wended their way towards the Missouri River, and so for nearly two weeks the march was kept up with no incident occurring to break its monotony, save the daily excitement of breaking camp at noon and after a tiresome walk of a dozen miles or more, building the watch fires at night, and talking over the events of the day.
I think had it not been for Aggie, Guy would often have fallen to sleep as soon as he joined the circle round the fire, for he was generally greatly wearied by the labors of the day. Every one found something for Guy to do, and as he never shirked his work as many boys do, be found but little time for rest, and none for play.
So, as I have said, he was usually so tired at night that he would certainly have fallen asleep as soon as he gained a quiet nook by the fire, but for little Aggie, who never failed to take a seat close beside him and ask for a story. So with the little girl on one side, Gus on the other, and George seated where he could hear without appearing to listen, Guy would tell them all the wonderful tales he had ever read, and many beside that were never printed or even known before.
Those hours spent around the glowing fires, were happy ones to the children. Even George, when he looked up at the countless stars looking down upon them from the vast expanse of heaven, was quieted and seldom annoyed either Guy or his eager listeners by his ill-timed jests or practical jokes.
"I wish," said little Aggie one evening, when she was sitting by the fire with her curly head resting on Guy's arms, "that you would tell me where all the pretty sparks go when they fly upward."
"Why, they die and fall to the earth again," exclaimed George, laughing.
"I don't think they do," replied Aggie, "I think the fire-flies catch them and carry them away under their wings."