Supper had been cooked ashore, since they had become so tired of their confined quarters aboard the boat that every chance to stretch their limbs was eagerly seized upon, even though they realized that the greatest element of safety lay in remaining back of that stout bulwark formed by the sides of their floating home.
The good mothers were busily engaged putting the smaller children to sleep, while the men sat around the small fire, smoking and comparing notes as to how long they would be in reaching their destination.
It was a subject that they never wearied of talking about, since all their hopes were bound up now in building those new homes that they kept picturing in their family councils. The men did not mind this roving existence so much, for they had become reconciled to discomforts; but the wives and mothers yearned for the conclusion of the long and wearisome voyage. They missed all the conveniences of the cabins to which they were accustomed. In these later days a housekeeper would be apt to smile upon learning what little constituted the full assortment of “comforts” which made up the life of one of those pioneer women; but it was all they had ever known, and a spinning-wheel, with the flax that went with it, meant a supply of clothing for the family that could be procured in no other way.
One of the men had been posted at a certain point where it was believed he would be able to discover the slightest sign of an approaching enemy, and the balance rested in full confidence of their safety.
Bob and Sandy had taken a notion to look over some of their highly-prized traps which might need oiling; for they wanted them to be in the best of condition when they started their fall campaign in the new country.
They sat so that they might receive the benefit of the blaze that still kept up, as new fuel was occasionally added to the little fire, the evening being rather chilly, considering how far the season was advanced.
And as they polished, or rubbed some bear’s grease on the traps that had seen long service through rain, snow and fair weather, the boys talked, as they nearly always did, about the prospects that were so soon to be realized.
“Father thinks two more days ought to bring us to where the Ohio empties into the Mississippi,” remarked Sandy, rubbing vigorously the while.
“I only hope he is right, and that two nights from now we’ll be camped on the shore of that wonderful river,” Bob replied, stopping his work to critically examine it, so as to see whether anything more could be done to keep that particular trap from being eaten by rust.
“What was that dropped down just beside you, Bob?” suddenly asked the younger boy, staring hard as he spoke.