The Young Alaskans on the Missouri, Emerson Hough [books to read as a couple .txt] 📗

“‘The Countrey about the mouth of this river is verry fine on each Side as well as north of the Missourie. A high Clift on the upper Side of the Kanses ½ a mile up, below the Kanses the hills is about 1-½ Miles from the point on the North Side of the Missourie the Hills or high lands is Several Miles back.... The high lands come to the river Kansas on the upper Side at about ½ a mile, in full view, & a butifull place for a fort, good landing place.’

“He couldn’t spell much, or put in his punctuation marks, but he certainly had a practical eye. And I reckon the first beginnings of the city were right then, for the Journal says, ‘Completed a strong redoubt or brestwork from one side to the other, of logs and Bushes Six feet high.’ Yes, I suppose that was the first white building here at the Gate.

“It’s pretty hard to find any new part of the world to-day. Yonder runs the Kaw, leading to the Santa Fe Trail—and I’ll bet there’s a thousand motor cars going west right now, a hundred times as many cars each day as there used to be wagons in a year!”

He closed his book for the time. “Maybe that’s what Uncle Dick wanted us to get in our heads!” said he.

“Some country!” said Jesse; and both John and Rob agreed.

When their leader returned a little later in the evening, the boys told him what they had been doing.

“Fine!” he said. “Fine! Well, I’ve just telegraphed home that we’re all right and that we’re off for the Platte to-morrow, early.”

“That’s another old road to the Rockies,” said Rob.

“One of the greatest—the very greatest, when you leave out boat travel. The Platte Valley led out the men with plows on their wagons, the home makers who stayed West. You see, our young leaders were only pathfinders, not home makers.”

“And a jolly good job they had!” said Jesse.

“Yes, and jolly well they did the job, son, as you’ll see more and more.”

John was running a finger over the crude map which he and Jesse had been making from day to day. “Hah!” said he. “Here’s the big Platte Valley coming in, but no big city at the mouth.”

“Oh yes, there is,” corrected Uncle Dick. “Omaha and Council Bluffs you can call the same as at the mouth of the Platte, for they serve that valley with a new kind of transportation, that of steam, which did not have to stick to the watercourse, but took shorter cuts.

“It’s odd, but our explorers seem even then to have heard of a road to Santa Fe. They also say the Kansas River is described as heading ‘with the river Del Noird in the black Mountain or ridge which Divides the Waters of the Kansas, Del Nord, & Collarado.’ No doubt the early French or the Indians confused the Kaw with the Arkansas.

“Enough! Taps, Sergeant! To bed, all of you,” he concluded; and they were willing to turn in.

In the morning early they were at the dock, and were greeted by Johnson, who, sure enough, had the gasoline cans filled and most of the heavy supplies aboard. By eight-thirty they were chugging away again up the water front of the city, their Flag flying, so that many thought it was a government boat of some sort.

Jesse tried to write in his notebook, but did not make much of a success, owing to the trembling of the boat under the double power.

“He always says ‘we set out and proceeded on,’” Jesse explained. “I was trying to write how the expedition left the mouth of the Kansas River.”

“Look out for ‘emence numbers of Deer on the banks,’ now,” sung out John, who had the Journal on a box top near by. “‘They are Skipping in every derection. The party killed 9 Bucks to-day!’”

“But no buffalo yet,” said Rob.

“No, not till we get up around Council Bluffs—then we’ll begin to get among them.”

“And by to-morrow afternoon we’ll be where they celebrated their first Fourth of July. It was along in here. They celebrated the day by doing fifteen miles—closing the day by another ‘Descharge from our Bow piece’ and an extra ‘Gill of Whiskey.’ I don’t call that much of a Fourth!” John seemed disgusted.

“Well, maybe the soldiers didn’t, for they had ‘Tumers & Felons & the Musquiters were verry bad,’” he went on. “I don’t think their grub list was right—too much meat and salt stuff. But from now on they certainly did get plenty of game—all kinds of it, bears, deer, elk, beaver, venison, buffalo, turkeys, geese, grouse, and fish. You see, Jesse, they got some of those ‘white catfish’ like the last one you caught—a ‘channel cat,’ I suppose we’d call it. And they ate wild fruit along shore. I think the hunters had better chance than the oarsmen.

“They saw elk sign not far above the Kansas River, but I don’t think they got any elk till August 1st. Above there they got into the antelope, which they called ‘goat,’ and described very carefully. They sent President Jefferson the first antelope ever seen east of the Alleghanies. Then they got into the bighorn sheep, which also were altogether new, and the grizzly bear, which they called the ‘white bear.’ Oh, they had fun enough from here on north!”

“Yes, and did their work besides, and a lot of it,” affirmed Uncle Dick. “But while we are comparing notes we might just as well remember they had some bad storms. I don’t like the look of that bank of clouds.”

They all noted the heavy ridges of black clouds to the west. The wind changed, coming down the river in squalls which tore up the surface of the water and threw the bow of the boat off its course.

“Steady, Rob! Slow down!” called out Uncle Dick, who had begun to pull the tarpaulin over the cargo. “I can’t judge the water in this wind. Look out, all!”

Suddenly there came a jolt and a jar which drove them from their seats. The propellers had struck a sand bar and plowed into it. Caught by the wind, the bow of the boat swung around into the current. Careening, the lower rail went under and the water came pouring in.

“

Hold her, boys!” called out Uncle Dick. “Overboard! Hold her up!”

Even as he spoke he had plunged overboard on the upstream side, throwing his weight on the rail. The water caught him nearly waist deep, for the treacherous bar shelved rapidly.

It was not so deep where Rob went in, but Jesse and John, thoughtlessly plunging in on the lower side, were swept under the boat, which all the strength of the other two could not hold back against the combined power of the current and the wind.

Without warning they were cast into an accident which in nine cases out of ten would have meant death to some or all of them.

The boat was filling fast, and the great weight of the outboard motors buried her stern, so she was about to swamp in midstream. Uncle Dick in horror saw the set faces of two of his young friends at the rail beyond him, their legs under the boat, which was swinging on them, their terror showing in their eyes. He made one grasp across the boat, and luckily caught Jesse’s hand. Their combined weight held the boat down by the bow, and she swung downstream, half full but not sinking.

“Swim for it, John, as soon as we reach the island!”

The voice of Uncle Dick rose high and clear. A willow-clad island lay below, toward which the boat now was setting. He knew the boys all could swim, and they were all lightly dressed, with canvas sneakers and no coat.

“All right!” replied John, confidently, now getting his legs free. “I can make it.” Indeed, it did not seem the boat could carry another pound. Rob was swimming on the upstream side, one hand on the stern. Keeping low in the water, they floated on down in the black squall of wind and rain which now came on them. Their course downstream was very rapid.

“Now, John!” Uncle Dick gave the word, and John, without one instant’s hesitation, struck out for the island, now not over forty yards away over the choppy, rain-whipped water. His head was seen bobbing over the waves, but gaining distance. Uncle Dick hardly breathed as he watched.

The boat was lightened a little. Rob took a chance, climbed in over the stern, and, catching up a setting pole, began to reach for bottom on the upstream side. He caught it and, putting in all his strength, swung the bow across stream, repeating again and again, until the boat was not far back of John’s bobbing head. Then all at once Uncle Dick gave a shout. His feet had struck bottom on the shelving sand once more. Between them they now could guide and drag the boat till they made a landing, with Jesse on top the cargo, only about fifty yards below where John was headed. They saw him scramble up the bank, lie for an instant half exhausted, and then come running down the shore to them. They all dragged at the water-logged boat until they had her ashore so she would hold.

“And that’s that!” panted John, coolly and slangily enough.

Till then no one had spoken. Uncle Dick couldn’t speak at first. He only drew Jesse and John to him, one to each arm, wet as they all were, and in the rain now pouring down. “Fine, boys!” said he.

“The closest squeak we’ve ever had,” said Rob, at last. “Right here in the settlements! There’s the city of Leavenworth just around the bend.”

“Close enough!” said Uncle Dick. “And my compliments to you all, every one. If it had been a lot of chaps less cool and ready, we’d none of us have been saved. Rob, who taught you to paddle on the up side when crossing a current?”

“I learned it of Moise Richard, on the Peace River, sir,” replied Rob.

“Right! Most people try to hold her nose against the current by working on the lower side. Upstream is right—and I must say the setting pole saved the day. But, John, you’ll never know how I dreaded to tell you to cast free and swim for it. I thought it was safest for you.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” said John. But at the same time he was very proud of his feat.

They were wet to the skin and the rain was cold, their boat was full of water and their stores wet. At last, surely, they had an adventure on their hands. But they were not downhearted over it at all.

“All hands lay to for camp!” called Uncle Dick.