Roger was not fully satisfied with the shooting of the buck. His fishing instinct had been aroused by the tales he had heard concerning the great finny prizes to be had in these rivers that ran down to the sea, and he longed to be able to capture his first prize in the shape of a salmon. So, immediately after supper, he got his line in readiness, and set it in hope of a strike. Many times during the evening he left the vicinity of the campfire, where the men were sitting at their ease and exchanging stories, to make an eager investigation of his line. Roger was, however, doomed to disappointment that night. Either the salmon did not run so far from the sea at this time of the year, or else his bait had not proven satisfactory. In time, no doubt, he would learn better; or he could possibly find a chance to make use of the spear he had secured from a Nez Perces brave, and which was used for striking the great fish as they passed through some narrow estuary of the river, running between the rocks. CHAPTER XXVIII AT THE FALLS OF THE COLUMBIA "I HOPE you don't think I'm discouraged, Dick, because so far no fish has come near my hook?" remarked Roger, when the time came to wrap their blankets around them and seek rest. "Oh! I know you too well to believe that," replied the other. "From now on I expect to see you doing your best to land a prize. Sooner or later success is bound to come, Roger." "I know it," was the confident way the other spoke; "because I've always made it my business to stick to the old motto, 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.' And even if the fish refuse to look at my bait I've got that spear, you remember. One of these days I'll find a chance to launch it, and bring up a salmon worth looking at." Dick always liked to hear Roger talk that way. It was his constancy that in the past had won him many a battle; for Roger had a stubborn streak in his nature and would come back again and again to make new attempts. As the water by everlasting dripping will wear away a stone, so this "never-say-die" spirit often won out in the end. Nothing disturbed the slumbers of the travelers during that first night upon the bank of the Lewis River. They started again early in the morning, for, now that the end of their journey was almost in sight, a fever began to possess them to cover the ground as rapidly as possible. New sights opened up to their gaze with every mile of progress made. The paddles dipped into the clear water, and the sunlight, falling on the drops dripping from the blades, made each one resemble a glittering diamond. After their life spent on the muddy Missouri it was a great pleasure to Dick and Roger to find themselves upon a stream where they could in places look down for many feet, and see the stones on the bottom, so transparent was the water.