And if they were fortunate enough to come back again, what pride they could take in exhibiting that altered chart, which had been built up week after week, as they pierced farther and farther into the wilderness.
The eventful day dawned bright and clear.
It seemed a friendly omen to Dick Armstrong as he went about his morning duties as though nothing out of the ordinary was about to take place, so well under control did the boy hold himself.
They gathered in the big cabin of Grandfather Armstrong for dinner, every soul of the little settlement, and at the table the old man asked that the blessings of Heaven might follow those two bold lads as they started out upon their adventure.
It would have been a cheerless meal indeed, had not Dick taken things in hand, and joked in a way quite unlike his usual self. But his father and uncle understood how full the lad’s heart was, and that he was forced to assume such levity in order not to break down.
Finally the meal ended, but to most of those who took part it was more like a funeral feast than a banquet in spite of the good things with which Grandmother Armstrong and Aunt Kate had prepared.
And now the time had come to say good-by.
The horses were ready, fresh, and apparently eager to be moving, unconscious of the fact that in all probability they would never more see the home stable.
Despite their efforts to appear gay, the hearts of the boys seemed to be in their throats, so that in the end, when it came each lad’s turn to embrace his mother a second time, turning to her last of all, neither Dick nor Roger could utter a single word.
But boyish nature is apt to soon recover from these things; and once they had shut out the familiar scene, and turned their faces toward the west, they gradually recovered their customary spirits.