University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.
PREPARATIONS FOR OUR JOURNEY.

Having arrived at a final decision, my mind once
more became tranquil. I took an early opportunity
to post my letter, and then busied myself in making
calculations and arrangements for my long journey.
My new friend and I kept together the remainder of
the day, and talked over our plans, hopes, and anticipations,
till a late hour of the night. However much
he might have been improved in spirits by my company,
he was certainly not benefitted in body by the
fresh excitement and the unusual task upon his conversational
powers. On retiring to rest, his cough
became very troublesome; and the next morning I
found him quite feverish and unrefreshed—so much
so, that I insisted upon his remaining in his berth till
noon.

“I fear, my dear friend,” he said, in a dejected,
melancholy tone, “I have set out too late.”

He certainly did not look as if he could bear the
fatigue and excitement of a long, hard and perilous
journey beyond the comforts of civilization—exposed
to all the change of atmosphere and climate, heat and
cold, a scorching sun, damping dews, and drenching
rains—to say nothing of a thousand other inconveniences,
privations, and troubles, which often break
down the hardiest constitutions; but I spoke encouragingly,
and cheered him as much as lay in my
power.

In person, Alfred Varney was of medium height,
slender, and gracefully formed. In health, his limbs
had been plump and round—the bones being small,
with very little display of muscle. His complexion
would have been termed dark—for such was the
color of his hair and eyes—but his skin had always
been remarkably clear and white; and now, under
the effects of his disease, it had a pearly hue, with a
kind of alabaster transparency. His face was oval,
with fine, regular features, which only required the
freshness and plumpness of health to render them
extremely handsome; and even sunken and wasted
as they were, there was still a fascination in their
bright intellectuality—for the soul seemed to permeate
the whole countenance with its light, as the rays of
the sun do a gossamer cloud. His dark hair slightly
curled above a broad, high, white forehead; he had a
full, clear, expressive, pleasant, and winning eye, and
a mouth and chin of decided character—the former
containing two rows of white, even teeth, and the latter

being almost beardless, and cleanly shaved. As I
contemplated his now emaciated form, going rapidly
downward, with scarcely a ray of hope to strengthen
his spirit against his disease, and pictured to myself the
happiness which lay before him, could he only regain
the health which had once been his, I turned away
with a saddened heart, and silently and secretly
prayed for his recovery.

Descending to the lower deck, I found the old
trapper seated on a coil of rope, near the bow, quietly
smoking his pipe, and listlessly watching the blue
vapor, as it slowly curled and lazily ascended in the
clear morning air.

“Well,” said I, “I find you enjoying yourself this
fine morning.”

“Augh!” he grunted; “d'ye call this hyer fun,
snagging it up the Missouri, on this — old grunting
boat? Chaw me up for a liar, ef I wouldn't rayther
be picketed to a rattlesnake's den. Yes, sir-ee! Augh!
wagh! shagh! Wall, hoss, how goes it? Got over
your drunk, hey?”

“The very words which might, with more propriety,
be addressed to you,” said I.

“Expect.”

“When I left you yesterday, the pint appeared to
be your master.”

“I looked drunk to you, hey?”

“You certainly did.”

“Wall, you did to old One-Eyed—so we're quits
thar. Augh!”

“But as both are sober now,” returned I, laughing,
“suppose we talk rationally.”

“Blaze away.”

“You intend to cross the prairies to Bent's Fort?”

“Beyond, boy.”

“You will take the fort in your route?”

“Expect.”

“You said something yesterday about permitting
me to accompany you as far as there.”

“Rayther.”

“You are still of the same mind?”

“You kin gamble on to it.”

“Do you expect to travel fast?”

“Some'at.”

“Do you intend to join any large party?”

“Nary once.”

“You have one companion, I think you said?”

“Me and Jake Stericks—Wolfy Jake I calls him
—hitches teams.”

“But the route I have heard spoken of as one of
great peril, passing as it does through the summer
hunting-grounds of some of the most savage of the
predatory Indian tribes.”

“Every nigger takes his chance. Augh!”

“But is there not more safety in a large party?”

“Feared of your ha'r, younker?”

“I certainly have no desire to have it grace an
Indian lodge.”

“Them as is born to be hanged, needn't be skeered
to Injins.”

“But not having a positive assurance of being destined
to that elevated position myself, I do not think
your sagacious remark will relieve me of any anxiety.
It is possible, however, the idea may have sustained
you through your perilous adventures—for you appear
to have entered into your fights with a very
strong presentiment of coming out of them alive,
which you have certainly done.”

For the first time, I perceived the muscles of the
old trapper's face relax into a broad grin; and extending
his hard hand, he gave me a grip like a vice,
and rejoined:

“Chaw me up fur a liar, younker, but you is
some'at to punks; and when you slid the covert, the
old man, your dad, lost a beaver. Them's old Sam
Botter's sentiments, and he's a nigger as has seed
snakes afore now. Augh!”

“Well,” I rejoined, “I am happy to find I stand
well in your good opinion at last; and now I have
a proposition to make, which is one of business.”

“Let her slide, younker. Stop a minute! What's
your handle?”

“My name?”

“Augh!”

“Roland Rivers.”

“Rolling Rivers, hey? Chaw me, but that's queer.
I once knowed a feller called Brooks, and he was jest
the driest human I ever seed. Me and him got off on
a perrarie together, and water wasn't nowhar. Arter
our throats got swelled so as we felt thar was a sand-bar

inside, I says to him, says I, `Brooks, you're the
dryest stream ever this hyer old nigger seed. Ef you
was what you're called, hyer's a beaver as would take
a dive.' Good meat was Brooks—but he got rubbed
out to the Blackfoot and lost his ha'r. No relation of
yourn, expect?”

“I think not,” returned I, with a laugh.

“Wall, younker, you're not bad named, fur you
kin wet, as this hoss knows. Augh!”

“Now then to business,” said I. “Since I saw you
yesterday, I have met with a young man, who is
afflicted with a disease, supposed to be consumption
of the lungs, and who is on his way to the Rocky
Mountains for the recovery of his health. I have determined
to be his companion as far as Bent's Fort at
least, but I do not think he will be able to travel fast.
Now I wish to know if we can make any arrangement
with you and your partner, so that you will time your
progress to what he can perform without too much
exertion? for which, of course, we are willing to give
you reasonable remuneration.”

“Reasonable what?”

“Remuneration. In other words, pay you a reasonable
price in money;”

“Don't know, Freshwater, how that mought be.
Hev to ax Wolfy Jake, afore this child kin decide on
to that.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“Can't say how it mought come across his scent.
He's powerful to growling, is Jake, and that's why I

calls him wolfy, and we're behind time more'n a month.
Ought to been on the mountains long afore this hyer
—for ef beavers aint spyling to lose their ha'r to us,
why was perraries made? Augh.”

“Under the circumstances then,” said I, “since you
are unable to decide, I think I had better speak to the
other mountaineers here, and see if we can make any
arrangement for travelling with them.”

“Freshwater, don't!” replied One-Eyed Sam, emphatically.
“Boy, I've kind o' tuk to you—slash my old
carcass ef I haint—and you kin gamble high on my
fotching Wolfy Jake plum centre.”

“Now you are talking to the point, sir, and I am
glad to find you take any interest in me whatever.
When I first addressed you yesterday, your actions
seemed to imply that my company was not particularly
agreeable.”

“You're right, younker, it wasn't. I haint much
liking fur strangers, no how; and when I sees a feller
rigged out in sich — silky, black, preacher toggery
as you've got on, I ginerally puts him down as sp'ilt
meat—jest fit for turkey buzzards, and them things.
But you broke in decent, and kind o' tuk me afore I
knowed it; and ef I didn't keep letting on, it was
bekase I didn't like to own up beat the fust jerk.”

“Well, shall I consider it settled, that my friend and
I are to journey with you on the conditions proposed?
You seemed just now to think your partner might
make positive objections.”

“He'll hev to gin in, Wolfy will, or else thar'll be
powder burnt.”

“I should not like to be the cause of any disagreement
between you.”

“Wall, he'll growl a few—that's his natur—he
al'ays does that thar, anyhow; but hyer's a nigger as
has some b'ar into him; and when old Sam plants his
hoof, it's thar. You and your friend jest git off to Independence,
and leave the rest to this child.”

“But there must be a good understanding with all
parties before we set out together.”

“Freshwater, you kin take this hyer coon's davy
(affidavit) thar won't be nothing shorter—nary once—
chaw me. Augh!”

“Very well—then we will leave the boat at Independence-landing.”

“You'll want a hoss apiece, and another rig for the
plains.”

“Certainly—but I suppose we can procure all we
may need at Independence?”

“Expect.”

“Then I may consider the matter as settled?”

“Rayther.”

“What will you drink?”

“Only half a pint,” he replied, with a sly wink.
“When this hyer beaver got up to-day, he says, says
he, `Sam, you old sinner, it don't do to indulge.'
`Nary once,' says Sam; `but while you're in this —
climate, you'd better season nor spile.' `Right,' says
this beaver, `and half a pint is enough fur seasoning.'

So we agreed on to that thar; and chaw me up fur a
liar, ef we're going to drink nary drop more to once.
Augh!”

“A very reasonable resolution,” said I, not a little
amused at the old trapper's singular notions of temperance;
and on reaching the saloon, I dispatched
him the stipulated half pint by one of the waiters.

My friend, as I now felt I had a right to term
Alfred Varney, succeeded in getting a good sleep
during the morning, and arose about noon, much
refreshed in body and improved in spirits. I immediately
informed him of the partial arrangement I
had made with the trapper, which met with his
approval. In fact this very matter had been talked
over between us the night before, and we had decided
either to join some small party, who might for a
reasonable consideration be induced to time their
journey to our convenience, or else employ a guide,
and set off, in colloquial phrase, “on our own hook.”
True, we knew the journey under consideration to be
one of great peril; but we knew it to be perilous for
both large and small parties—the former, of course,
being better able to withstand an attack of some
roaming band of savages—but the latter, from its
smallness, being less liable to attract the notice and
excite the cupidity of hostile neighbors; so that, on
the whole, the chances of getting safely through,
might be set down as about equal. Besides, as my
friend said, the object of his journey was the prolongation
of his life; and it would be worse than folly

to run the risk of losing it, by overtasking himself on
the way, as he might be compelled to do, were he to
travel with a large company, all anxious to reach
their destination in the shortest possible time.

In the course of the day, I introduced Varney to
One-Eyed Sam; who observed that “he was a powerful
thin beaver, and it would take a heap of meat to
make him fat enough to butcher”—the pleasantry and
oddity of the remark causing my friend to laugh outright.
We held a conversation concerning the outfit
we would require, the probable outlay, and agreed
upon the amount we should pay the trapper for escorting
us safely to Bent's Fort—the latter item being
neither more nor less than one hundred dollars—or
fifty dollars apiece—for I insisted, much against the
wish of my friend, on being permitted to bear one-half
of the whole expense, the extra charge for delay
on his account included.

Having now done all we could in the way of arranging
our land journey, we waited, with some impatience,
the slow progress of the boat up the muddy and snag-bottomed
channel of the Missouri. The river being
high, and the current strong, with immense rafts of
drift-wood floating down, rendered the navigation of
the stream tedious and perilous; but though we met
with some troublesome delays, no serious accident
occurred; and on the afternoon of the fourth day, we
disembarked at Independence-landing, as much elated
as ever were two school boys at an unexpected holiday.
That night we lodged at a comfortable inn, in

the very heart of a great western rendezvous, on the
very borders of civilized and savage life, surrounded
by a motley collection of people from all parts of the
world, consisting of emigrants, travellers, hunters,
trappers, traders, coureurs des bois, Indians, half-breeds,
and negroes. The novelty of our situation tended to
excite my companion and myself; and in talking
over our plans and hopes for the eventful future, we
consumed many hours that should have been devoted
to sleep.

The trapper left us at the village, to go in quest
of his friend, who was supposed to be encamped, with
his animals, somewhere in the vicinity—for he disliked
the settlements so much, that he could not be
prevailed upon to remain in one a moment longer
than was absolutely necessary for the transaction of
his business, whatever that might be.

On the following morning Botter returned, and
reported having found his friend encamped on a small
creek, about five or six miles distant, and nearly on
the line of our route; and that having laid before him
the matter which most concerned us, and done some
“pretty tall swearing,” he had carried his point, and
they had finally parted like two kittens, to meet again
on the following day and commence their journey
across the plains.

“So now you see, Freshwater, that you and your
friend Shadbones—(excuse me! but this hyer old
nigger al'ays has to put a handle to suit hisself)—you
and your friend Shadbones, I say, has got desperate

little time to buy up all you want for the tramp, and
you'd better stir your stumps and go in.”

“And will you only give us twenty-four hours to
prepare for our long journey?” I inquired, in some
surprise.

“Aint that thar enough? Chaw me, but I could
buy the whole — settlement in three hours, ef I
only had the tin.”

“Why, just now you seemed to think the time
very short yourself.”

“Yes, for you city chaps, who al'ays make a —
rumpus about nothing.”

“Then suppose, in consideration of our ignorance
and greenness, you give us three days instead
of one?”

“Can't do it, Freshwater.”

“Then will you assist us in our purchases?”

“Expect.”

“Very well, then we will set about them at once.”

I need not enter into details concerning that day's
work—for work it was, and of the most fatiguing
kind—at least I thought so at the time; for in order
to spare my friend, I took upon myself all the labor
and responsibility of purchasing two riding horses,
and one pack-mule, together with saddles, bridles,
water-proof packs, rifles, pistols, knives, ammunition, a
portable tent, blankets, costumes, and many other
articles too tedious to mention. Then we had to
overhaul our baggage, to select what we considered
indispensable, and stow away all the clothing to be

left behind, so as to guard against moths—all of which
we finally consigned to the care of our landlord, trusting
to his honesty by virtue of necessity. Then our
new mountain-costumes had to be put on, our packs
packed, our bridles and saddles fitted to our animals;
and, what with one thing and another, it was twelve
o'clock at night before I was ready to lie down, and
take my last sleep, for a long time to come, upon
what, by way of distinction, I will term a civilized
bed.

I had just fallen into a comfortable doze, and was
dreaming of home, when I was suddenly awakened
by a rough shake, and the harsh voice of One-Eyed
Sam sounded most unpleasantly in my ear.

“Come, Freshwater, out of this hyer feathered
nest!” he said; “out on't, I say, and git ready to
tramp! Daylight's about, and the owls is gone to
roost, and this hyer old nigger wants to break for
better quarters. Augh!”

“Look you, Mr. Botter,” returned I, not in the best
humor imaginable—for I could see no reason in such
haste, and I had not been used to having my sleep
disturbed, especially in so rough a manner: “Look
you, sir! if my memory serves me rightly, we pay
you a round sum to travel with us to suit our convenience,
and this is certainly not the way I had
expected you to begin the performance of our contract.
I fatigued myself yesterday to please you, and
now I am going to sleep a few hours to please myself.”

“Wall, you kin do as you like!” growled the old

trapper; “but chaw me up for a liar, ef this hyer
nigger stays in this — settlement another hour!
Augh! wagh! shagh!”

“We had better humor him, and make an early
start,” said Varney to me in an under tone as One-Eyed
Sam was leaving the room.

“Are you able and willing to set out now, my
friend?” I inquired.

“Yes, I feel quite strong.”

“Very well, then, for your sake I will not be obstinate.
Mr. Botter,” I called, “if you will see to
having the animals got ready, we will set off as
soon as you like.”

We hastily arose, donned our new costumes, collected
our weapons, roused the landlord, and paid our
reckoning; by which time the horses and mule were
at the door, and ready for the journey. Ere the sun
rose, we were in our saddles, and were following close
in the wake of the old trapper, who, with the vigor
and activity of youth, was leaving the town, due west,
by long and rapid strides. We soon crossed a little
stream, and ascended a grass-covered knoll; when,
turning in our saddles, we looked back on the town,
by the dim morning light, and silently bade farewell
to the last civilized settlement we were destined to
behold, till many a day of peril and suffering, privation
and sorrow, had placed its sad record on the
tablets of our memories.