Chapter XXXII · TO THE RISING SUN—CONCLUSION

On the following day the flag of the United States floated from the green hills of Columbia Bay. And, when the adventurers had become thoroughly rested, they began to discuss the matter as to where they would stay during the coming winter.

Just what sort of severe weather they might expect none of them, of course, knew. In those early days nothing was understood with reference to the famous warm Japan ocean current, which does for the Pacific coast what the Gulf Stream accomplishes for much of our eastern shore, as well as for Europe.

So cabins were finally built, in which they hoped to keep fairly comfortable, and by degrees a supply of meat was laid, in for consumption during the winter, if the cold should be prolonged like a Canadian season.

They soon found that the Indians meant to be friendly, and all fear of trouble from this source was laid to rest. As the days and weeks crept on they explored some of the surrounding country, and even tried to make rude maps of it to show when they returned East.

Dick and Roger did their full share in everything that went on. Much of the meat that was dried that winter, in order to provide a supply on the return trip over the mountains and down the Missouri, fell before their guns.

They were also instrumental in helping to tan some of the skins to be used in making necessary clothing for the men. Having been almost two years on the trail, some of the members of the expedition were sadly in need of garments; and this well-tanned buckskin supplied the deficiency admirably, for in those pioneer days every man was his own tailor.

It would hardly be fitting here to try to tell the many things that occupied their attention as the winter months passed; but they were busy most of the time. To the surprise of all the weather never became severe. Snow they saw on the sides of the mountains, but, taken in all, they suffered very little from cold, a fact that astonished them very much.

Finally the spring came, and all eyes were eagerly turned toward the rising sun; for it was known that the time was now near at hand when they must start upon the return trip.

The ties that drew them all, men and boys, to the East were many and strong. Their hearts often swelled with emotion as they thought of those from whom they had been separated so many months.

“Why,” Roger was accustomed to saying, when he and his chum discussed the time of their departure, now close at hand, “I feel sure I will never know my little sister, Mary, when I see her again; she must be such a big girl by now. And as for your brother, Sam, you may find him able to give you a good tussle in a wrestle.”

Thus they often talked of their loved ones, but neither of the boys ever dared express the one dread fear that sometimes tugged at their heartstrings, which was that they might find some face missing in the family circle when they reached home again.

Toward the end of March, everything being favorable, they once more started up the broad Columbia, saying farewell to the place where they had passed such a contented winter. No serious illness had visited them, and all were very anxious to get started.

Reaching the village of the Nez Perces, they had no difficulty in claiming their horses, which had survived the winter. And, having made many presents to their red friends, the adventurers again set forth.

They had a faithful guide this time who showed them how to avoid some of the worst of the burning desert. The changed season of the year also aided them, so that, in the end, they reached in safety the lofty barrier that divided the continent.

Crossing the Rocky Mountains they proceeded to where they had left their companions, and were fortunate enough to find them safe and sound. It was a joyous reunion all around.

They had troubles with the Indians, though as a rule they found the red men inclined to be friendly; and, in return for medicine and services rendered, received many favors at the hands of the natives, including much-needed meat.

Once, among the Blackfeet, they were forced to make a hasty flight, when some of the thievish Indians tried to steal their horses; and in the mêlée a brave was shot, though the animals were saved.

When finally the Missouri was reached the party set to work to make new canoes, having by degrees lost their horses or traded them with the Indians for necessities. Captain Lewis knew that for the hundreds of miles they now had to traverse, boats would be far more preferable to horses, because the going was all downstream, with a swift current, the river being in its spring flood.

Some of the canoes they made themselves, others were purchased from the Indians; in this way enough were provided to carry the entire party.

Day after day they kept pushing resolutely down the great river, camping by night on the bank. The summer was already well along, and they knew it would be close to October before they could expect to make the village of St. Louis, the first settlement on their course.

It was just about the end of September when they did arrive, and the event created the most intense excitement ever known in that border post. Most people, who had seen the expedition set forth nearly two and a half years back, believed the brave captains and all with them had perished.

When Mayhew, the scout, had shown up, bearing the precious paper which meant so much to the Armstrongs, he had, of course, brought news; and it was known that the expedition had reached a place near the far distant headwaters of the Missouri; but since then weary months of waiting had ensued, with never a word, and hope beat but faintly in those fond hearts at home.

It was a joyous meeting. Roger could hardly believe the tall girl who threw her arms about his neck was his little sister, Mary; and as for Sam, he bade fair to soon look down on Dick, he was growing so fast.

Grandfather and Grandmother Armstrong were both there, hale and hearty, and mighty proud of their two sturdy grandsons, who had made that wonderful trip to the western sea in company with the President’s private secretary.

The whole country applauded the hardy men who had done this great feat, and with reason, for, as one account says:

“They were world conquerors in the best sense, in that they had blazed the way for thousands of sturdy homeseekers who soon followed in their wake, building homes, cities, manufacturing plants, railroads and telegraph lines where once had roamed the lordly bison, the herds of dun-colored antelope, the vast bodies of stately elk; and where, in the silence of the mountains and the forest the grizzly bear—monarch of the plains and the valleys—had moved in the peace and seclusion of the vast wilderness.”

In later years, after the original pioneers of the Armstrong family had been gathered to their fathers, the families scattered, as new things arose to lure some of the younger members further into the wide West.

They have settled, the newer generations of them, some in Oregon, along the mighty Columbia which Dick and Roger were among the first whites to see; others on wheat growing farms in Dakota, or else on cattle ranches in Montana; though there can still be found Armstrongs in St. Louis, proud to trace their ancestry back to those bold pioneers whose early history we have attempted to narrate in these volumes.

Jasper Williams often visited his young friends when he came to the growing settlement at the junction of the Missouri with the Mississippi. He lived to dandle the children of Dick and Roger on his knee, and tell them many of the exciting adventures which those two hold lads encountered when crossing the Great Divide with Lewis and Clark.

Nothing was ever heard of either Lascelles or Andrew Waller, and the boys never entertained a doubt but that the renegades met their fate in that strange landslide by which they had been precipitated into the Columbia.

And, since we have seen the safe return of the wanderers, and watched the happy ending of their great adventure, it is but right that we bring our story of early pioneer days to a close.

THE END