Thenceforth so far as my occupations permitted, we were always together. And those occupations decreased every day till we reached the Missouri. Perhaps no caravan had more success than ours during the first month of the journey. Men and animals were growing accustomed to order and skilled in travelling; hence I had less need to look after them, while the confidence which the people gave me upheld perfect order in the train. Besides, abundance of provisions and the fine spring weather roused joyfulness and increased good health. I convinced myself daily, that my bold plan of conducting the caravan not by the usual route through St. Louis and Kansas, but through Iowa and Nebraska, was best. There heat almost unendurable tortured people, and in the unhealthy region between the Mississippi and Missouri fevers and other diseases thinned the ranks of emigrants; here, by reason of the cooler climate, cases of weakness were fewer, and our labor was less. It is true that the road by St. Louis was in the earlier part of it freer from Indians; but my train, composed of two or three hundred men well furnished with weapons and ready for fighting, had no cause to fear wild tribes, especially those inhabiting Iowa, who though meeting white men oftener, and, having more frequent experience of what their hands could do, had not the courage to rush at large parties. It was only needful to guard against stampedes, or night attacks on mules and horses,—the loss of draught-animals puts a caravan on the prairies in a terrible position. But against that there was diligence and the experience of sentries who, for the greater part, were as well acquainted with the stratagems of Indians as I was. When once I had introduced travelling discipline and made men accustomed to it, I had incomparably less to do during the day, and could devote more time to the feelings which had seized my heart. In the evening I went to sleep with the thought: “To-morrow I shall see Lillian;” in the morning I said to myself: “To-day I shall see Lillian;” and every day I was happier and every day more in love. In the caravan people began by degrees to notice this; but no one took it ill of me, for Lillian and I possessed the good-will of those people. Once old Smith said in passing: “God bless you, captain, and you, Lillian.” That connecting of our names made us happy all day. Aunt Grosvenor and Aunt Atkins whispered something frequently in Lillian’s ear, which made her blush like the dawn, but she would never tell me what it was. Henry Simpson looked on us rather gloomily,—perhaps he was forging some plan in his soul, but I paid no heed to that.