"He's the commandin' officer; still I don't agree with him," said Pat. "An' I hope he's wrong, for the other river's the 'asier. I'd rather sail in a boat than on foot, any day."
"Did you sight any falls, Pat?" asked Joe Fields.
"Niver a fall—but I felt some," answered Pat.
Captain Lewis was yet out. He and his party did not return this evening, nor the next day; and on the following day everybody was worried about them. But that afternoon at five o'clock they came toiling in, hungry, soaked with the cold rain, and weary after a five days' tramp of 120 miles.
"I'm glad to see you, Merne," exclaimed Captain Clark, his face lighting up amidst his thick red hair and shaggy red beard. "What's the news?"
"We've been along the north fork sixty miles and it doesn't head toward any mountains. I don't believe it's the Missouri, although Drouillard insists it must be."
"I don't believe so, either, Merne. The south fork looks the better of the two, to me." And they paced together to their lodge.
It was a cheery crowd, in spite of the dangers and discomforts and the hard work. That evening the sky had cleared, there was a big supper of venison, the feet of the men who had stayed in camp were about well, and Cruzatte tuned up his fiddle for a dance.
Toward noon of the next day, Sunday, June 9, a parade was ordered, to hear what the captains had
