CHAPTER I
THE YOUNG EXPLORERS
"I THINK we have gone far enough from the camp, Roger."
"Just as you say, Dick. I never seem to know when to stop, once I getstarted."
"And it's easy to start you, too. That was why the boys, back at thesettlement of St. Louis, came to call you 'Headstrong Roger.'"
"Well, Dick, I hope to outgrow that fault in time. You know my fatherwas the same way, when he and Uncle Bob used to hunt and trap and fishon the Ohio River, and later along the Mississippi."
"It seems hard to believe, Roger, that we are so far from ourhomes. Sometimes I shut my eyes and can picture all the dear onesagain--father, mother, and my younger brother, Sam."
"Yes, but here we are, hundreds and hundreds of miles from them, and inthe heart of the Western wilderness," said the boy who had been calledRoger; "and planning to spend the coming winter with our good friendsCaptain Lewis and Captain Clark."
"Sometimes," remarked his companion, "I am sorry we determined to stayhere and winter near the Mandan Indian village. We might have turnedback and gone home, along with the messengers who were dispatched withdocuments for the President at Washington."
"And who also carried the precious paper that Jasper Williams signed,which will save our parents' homes from being taken away from them bythat scheming French trader, Lascelles."
"And yet," observed Dick, thoughtfully, "when I think of the wonderfulthings we have seen, and what a glorious chance we have of setting eyeson the great Pacific Ocean next summer, I am glad we decided to stay uphere on this strange river of the wilderness that in the Indian tonguemeans Yellowstone."
"It is a different stream from the 'Big Muddy' or the Missouri, andas full of rapids as it can be. Before long the expedition will haveto abandon all boats, and trust to the horses to carry the camp outfitover the mountains to the west."
"Listen, Roger, what was that sound?"
"I thought it was the whinny of a horse," replied the impetuous one ofthe pair, as they dropped behind some brush that grew on the brow of agradual slope leading to a lower level.
"And it came from below us, too. What could a horse be doing here? Doyou think any of our men are out after fresh meat to-day?"
"There are a few horses among some of the Indian tribes around here,and it might be--there, look, something is coming yonder, Dick!"
"Don't move again, Roger; it is an Indian brave, and there followsanother, treading in his trail."
"They are not of our friends, the Mandans, Dick, and they don't looklike the Sioux we met a while ago. There come three more, and now I cansee the horse!"
"H'sh! Not a whisper now, and lie as still as a rock. They have sharpeyes, even if they are not on the warpath."
Roger knew why his cousin made this last remark, for the horse wasdragging two poles after him, the ends of which trailed on the ground.Upon this primitive wagon rested quite a pile of stuff, evidently theskin teepee of the family and other articles, as well as a buxom squawand a small papoose.
Back of the first horse came a second, similarly equipped, and thenanother tall, half-naked brave, armed with bow and arrows. Dick knewthat the little procession was a portion of some Indian communitymoving their camp to a place where the game would be more abundant,for this was the season when they laid in their winter store of jerkedvenison or "pemmican."
"Don't move yet, Roger," whispered Dick, after the last figure hadgone some little distance along the trail; "I believe there is anotherparty coming. Yes, I can already see them a little way back there. Justcrouch down and watch."
While the two boys are lying hidden, and waiting for the passage ofthe hostile Indians, belonging to some tribe with which they hithertohad had no dealings, we might take advantage of the opportunity toascertain just who Dick and Roger Armstrong are, and what they couldbe doing in this unknown region, far back in 1804, when the headwatersof the Missouri had never been fully explored by any white man.
Many years previous to this time their grandfather, David Armstrong,had emigrated from Virginia to the banks of the Ohio, being tempted totake this step because of wonderful stories concerning that countrytold to him by his good friend, the famous pioneer, Daniel Boone.
His family consisted of three children, a girl and two boys, Bob andSandy. The brothers grew up versed in woods lore, as did all borderboys. They knew all about the secrets of the great forest and themighty waters. And, indeed, in those days, with peril constantlyhovering over their heads, it was essential that boys should learn howto handle a rifle as soon as they could lift one of the long-barreledweapons to their shoulder.[1]
Later, the pioneer was tempted to continue still further into theGolden West, always with the rainbow of promise luring him onwardtoward the setting sun. With other families, the Armstrongs drifteddown the beautiful Ohio, and finally settled on the Missouri, abovethe trading post of St. Louis.
Here the two sturdy lads grew to manhood, married, and built cabins oftheir own, near that of old David and his wife. To Bob came two boys,Dick and Sam; while his brother had a son, Roger, and a sweet girlnamed Mary, after her grandmother.
These two cousins, Dick and Roger, hunted in company, and were as fondof one another as their fathers had been. Dick was a little the older,and acted as a sort of safety valve upon the more impulsive Roger; butboth learned the lessons of Nature, day by day, until, at the time wemake their acquaintance in this volume, they were capable of meetingthe craftiness of the Indian, or the fury of the forest wild beast,with equal cunning.
On the previous spring there had fallen a bombshell into the happyhomes of the Armstrongs near the thriving settlement named after theFrench king. When David, on his arrival years before, had purchaseda large section of land that was bound to grow very valuable forhis heirs in later years, he had believed his title to be clear andunquestioned.
Later, it turned out that a certain signature was lacking to make thetitle valid, and unless this could be obtained within a certain timefrom an heir of the original owners, the entire tract would be takenfrom them. An unscrupulous French trader, named Francois Lascelles, hadsecured the opposing claim, and threatened to evict the Armstrongs inthe coming spring, unless they could produce that valuable signature.
This impending family trouble affected Dick and Roger greatly. Theybegan to make investigations and learned that the man whose signaturewas wanted, Jasper Williams by name, a hunter and trapper, was then faraway in the unknown regions of the West.
They also learned that this forest ranger expected to join an exploringparty headed by two men who had recently been in St. Louis, and whomthey had met in company with their grandfather, David Armstrong. Thesewere Captain Lewis and Captain Clark, sent out by the President of theUnited States to learn what lay far beyond the Mississippi Valley, andpossibly to proceed all the way to the Pacific Ocean, which was knownto lie hundreds, perhaps thousands of miles west of the MississippiValley. (Note 1.)[2]
So, determined to do everything in their power to get that paper signedby the one man whose name would save their homes, Dick and Rogerhad finally gained the consent of their parents to their making theperilous trip.
Many weary weeks the boys followed after the expedition, which had hadquite a start ahead of them. They met with strange vicissitudes andwonderful adventures by the way, yet through it all their courage andgrim determination carried them safely, so that in the end they finallyreached the little company of bold spirits forging ahead through thisunknown land.[3]
They were received with kindness by the two captains, who admired thespirit that had brought these lads through so many difficulties.
In the end the valuable signature was attached to the paper, which wasplaced in charge of a special messenger whom Captain Lewis was sending,with two other men, to carry reports of the progress of the expeditionto the President, who had great faith in the enterprise.
This messenger had instructions to proceed straight to St. Louis, firstof all, and deliver the document to
David Armstrong before heading forWashington.
The boys had yielded to the invitation of their new friends to remainwith the expedition in camp through the approaching winter, andcontinue on in the spring to the great ocean that all believed laybeyond the mountain barrier. Such a chance would never come to themagain in all their lives. The document would reach the hands of thehome folks in due time, and also the letters they had dispatched withit.
And so it is that we find Dick and Roger off on a little exploring tripon a day when the chill winds told of the winter that was soon to wrapall the land in an icy mantle.
They huddled there in security behind the thick brush, and, by peepingthrough little openings, could watch all that went on below them.The moving Indians interested them greatly, because they apparentlybelonged to a tribe with which the boys, until then, had had nointercourse; although Dick guessed, from the style of head-dress of thewarriors, that in all probability they were Blackfeet, and not Crows.
At any rate, he did not like their looks, and felt that it would be aserious thing for himself and his companion if by any accident theyattracted the attention of the passing party. Even if they were notjust then on the warpath, they possessed arms, and might consider awhite intruder on their hunting grounds as a bitter enemy, who shouldbe exterminated at any cost.
The second detachment had now come along and was passing by. Itconsisted of several braves, and another horse dragging the poles uponwhich a squaw and three dark-faced Indian papooses sat amidst the campequipage.
Suddenly Roger, in his eagerness to see a little better, when somethingespecially attracted his attention, chanced to make a hasty move, withthe result that he dislodged quite a good-sized stone, which starteddown the slope, gathering speed as it went.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] See "The Pioneer Boys of the Ohio."
[2] The notes will be found at the end of the book.
[3] See "The Pioneer Boys of the Missouri."
The Pioneer Boys of the Yellowstone; or, Lost in the Land of Wonders Page 4
