It was a beautiful day. Fleecy white clouds dotted the blue sky. Here a white-headed eagle soared round and round in great circles, sailing ever upward toward the sun. Far out upon the water a fish-hawk or osprey was hovering with winnowing wing, preparatory to darting down to clutch some unlucky fish in its talons; after which, possibly, the “lord of the air” might attack the hawk, and force a surrender of the finny prey, after the manner of all eagles, even to this day.
It was a pleasure to breathe the fresh air, and be thankful that one lived. Add to this the realization that a dream was about to come true, such as no boy had ever dared indulge before, and the feelings of Roger Armstrong can be partly understood.
No wonder his boyish face shone with happiness. True, there would be tearful partings from those he loved; but then, his heart was staunch, and he knew he could stand that. And the wonderful mission that beckoned them forward, was not that enough to pay for any trouble and suffering they might meet?
“How do you suppose they will say we ought to follow the expedition, Dick?” he finally found tongue to ask, at the same time casting a dubious look in the direction of the dugout upon which he had been working.
Seeing that look, Dick burst out laughing.
“Well, if it depended on our paddling that heavy craft hundreds and hundreds of miles up the swift current of the Missouri, making a carry every now and then, perhaps, and going ashore every night to camp, I don’t think we’d ever come up with those French Canadian voyageurs who handle the three boats Captain Lewis has with him. You remember how we followed them all one morning when they passed here, and how badly we felt after they had disappeared around the big bend above. And it seems almost too good to be true to think that we are going after them, perhaps to be in their company a long time.”
“But answer my question, please, Dick; if not by boat, then how shall we overtake the expedition, which must be a hundred or more miles away by now?”
“There is only one way, Roger. Our fathers have decided that we shall start out with horses, one each to ride, and another for a pack animal, to carry some of the things we may want on the long journey. I did not think we would need these last; but I said nothing, for it pleases our mothers to think that we may carry plenty of good things along. But between us, Roger, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if we had to abandon our packhorses before we’ve been a week on the trail, and trust to the fleetness of our own animals’ heels to keep ourselves from being made prisoners by some of the Indian tribes whose country we have to pass through.”
Even this dismal prophecy did not appear to affect the impulsive Roger. Indeed, his eyes sparkled more than ever, as though he rather enjoyed the prospect of being thrown on his own resources. It was going to be a fine opportunity to learn the value of those secrets of woodcraft which he had picked up from time to time.
From the early days of history, the prospect of adventure has appealed to all boys with red blood in their veins. Only for that eagerness, shown by the early pioneers, to pit themselves against the perils of the wilderness, how would our frontier line have been extended, year after year, until it finally broke over the mighty Rockies, and reached the western sea?