ON awaking the next morning, the boys found themselves surrounded by new scenes. While they were dressing, they looked out at the window, and obtained their first view of a wagon train, which was just starting out for the prairie. The wagons were protected by canvas covers, some drawn by oxen, others by mules, and the entire train being accompanied by men both on foot and on horseback. Fat, sleek cows followed meekly after the wagons, from behind whose covering peeped the faces of women and children – the families of the hardy pioneers now on their way to find new homes amid the solitude of that western region.
The boys watched the train until it disappeared, and then went down stairs to get their breakfast. Uncle James was not to be found. In fact, ever since leaving Portland, he seemed to have forgotten his promise to his brother, for he never bothered his head about his nephews. It is true, he had watched them rather closely at the beginning of the journey, but soon discovered that they were fully capable of taking care of themselves and the trapper besides. He did not make his appearance until nearly two hours after the boys had finished their breakfast, and then he rode up to the hotel mounted on a large, raw-boned, ugly-looking horse. He was followed by the trapper, who was seated in a covered wagon, drawn by a span of mules, while behind the wagon were two more horses, saddled and bridled.
.....
“The youngsters would make good trappers.”
This, as the trapper afterward told the boys, was a compliment old Bob seldom paid to any one, “for,” said he, “I’ve knowed him a long time, an’ have been in many a fight with him, an’ he never told me I was good or bad.”
