As the boys grew older they naturally took to the same things that had been of such prime importance in the lives of their fathers. Hunting and fishing were of the utmost necessity to these early pioneers, since only by such means were they enabled to provide for many of the family wants. Indeed, but for the bounty of Nature in supplying such vast quantities of game, the task of settling the waste places of our country would have been a much more difficult one than was the case. Of course, as their two sons grew tall and more manly, Bob and Sandy Armstrong went less and less into the forest, and out upon the waters, contenting themselves with an occasional hunt in the season of laying in "pemmican," as the dried venison and buffalo meat of the Indians was called, for the winter's store. They had plenty to do in developing their farms, for the work in those days was much more exacting than in recent years, when so many labor-saving farm implements are used. Those who have read the earlier volumes in this series of pioneer books can easily understand that if the two lads, Dick and Roger, resembled their fathers as much as people said, they were a pair of resolute young fellows when, at about the age of fifteen, we make their acquaintance. Dick was steady-going, though he could be as quick as a flash should the necessity require. He was more apt to deliberate, and do the right thing, than his younger cousin, Roger, who had inherited his father's, Sandy Armstrong's, impetuous nature, and was inclined to be a little reckless. Both were good-hearted, manly boys, and blessings to their parents. They had early in life learned many of the secrets of woodcraft as known to those hardy, early pioneers, and could read the signs of the trail as well as most old trappers, accustomed to spending their lives in the wilderness, where danger lurked back of every falling leaf, with hostile Indians, and revengeful French trappers, hovering around. The English were numerous at the St. Louis settlement, and had, moreover, taken such good measures to fortify the post that no successful foray was ever engineered by the allied tribes of the West looking to its reduction. And as a certain wampum belt, presented to the Armstrong boys by the great sachem, Pontiac, for valuable services which they had rendered to him,[3] still seemed to possess a potent power over the Sacs, Pottawatomies, Foxes, and other tribes of Indians, the little settlement above St. Louis, on the Missouri, had never once been molested by the redskins, though other places had been attacked from year to year. It was at this time, with spring only lately passed, that we find the cousins out upon the Missouri, enjoying their favorite occupation, and having such great sport that Roger could hardly be convinced that they should give up the fishing if they hoped to cross the wide river, and reach home, before the threatening storm broke.