Even with his inexperienced eye he could see that bad weather was close at hand. Perhaps before he reached the foot-hills the winter’s storms would burst forth in all their fury, blocking the trail with drifts, and effectually shutting him off from all communication with those he had left behind. He had never been so far away from his mother before, and neither had she ever seemed so dear and so necessary to him as she did now. And then there was Sam—impulsive, good-natured, kind-hearted Sam Hynes—who had so long been his chosen friend and almost constant companion! Oscar would have given much if he could have looked into his honest face and felt the cordial grasp of his hand once more. Some such thoughts as these passed through the mind of the young hunter as he stood there on the platform with his hands in his pockets, gazing after the rapidly receding stage-coach, and for a moment he looked and felt very unlike the happy, ambitious boy who had left Eaton but a short time before with such bright anticipations of the future. Then he dashed away the mist that seemed to be gathering before his eyes, pushed back his hat, which he had drawn low over his forehead, and took himself to task for his weakness. “A pretty hunter I shall make if this is the way I am to feel!” was his mental exclamation. “I talked very glibly to Sam Hynes about going on a three or four years’ expedition to Africa to collect specimens, and here I am, homesick already, although I have been away from Eaton scarcely two weeks. This will never do. I must get to work at once.” Just at that moment the stage-coach reached the top of a high ridge over which the road ran, and Leon turned in his seat to wave his farewell to the boy who had befriended him. Oscar waved his handkerchief in reply, and, having seen the coach disappear over the brow of the hill, he sprang off the platform and bent his steps toward the fort. As he passed through the gate, the sentry respectfully brought his musket to a “carry.” He had seen Oscar in familiar conversation with all the high officers belonging to the post, and that made him believe that the visitor, young as he was in years, must be a person of some importance. He was well enough acquainted with the men who commanded him to know that they did not associate on terms of intimacy with everyone who came to the post on business. Oscar walked straight to the colonel’s head-quarters, and the orderly who was standing in the hall opened the door for him. The room in which he now found himself was not just such a room as he had expected to see in that wilderness. The open piano, the expensive pictures, the papered walls, and the richly upholstered easy-chairs that were arranged in order about the table made it look almost too civilized.