However, Uncle Dick was shrewd in his map work and his guessing. Toward dark the boys began to get anxious as the shadows fell along the deep, powerful river, but they had no sign to land until it was well after sunset. Then Uncle Dick began to whistle cheerfully. "All right, Rob," he called. "Hard a-lee! Get across. That creek on the right is the Femme Osage. There were forty families settled there, six miles up the river, and one of those farmers was--who do you think?" "I know!" exclaimed John. "It was Daniel Boone! I've read about his moving in here from Kentucky." "Right you are, son! He had a Spanish land grant in here and lived here till 1804. He died in 1820, at the town called Femme Osage, as you know. "Well now, here we are! In under the rocks, Rob--so! Now quick, Jesse, make fast at the bow!" "Well, what do you know!" exclaimed Jesse. "Regular cave, and everything!" "Yes," smiled his uncle, "a regular cave and all. Lucky to hit it so well and to find it still doing business--at least part way--after a hundred years!" They scrambled up the bank to the opening of the cavern which made back into the bold rocky shore, finding the interior about twelve feet wide and running back for forty feet, with a height of some twenty feet. It was blackened with smoke in places, and many names were cut in the rock. "Hard run up the swift chutes to get here," said Uncle Dick, "but I'm glad we made it. This old cave was called the 'Tavern,' even before Lewis and Clark, and all the river men used to stop here. Quite homey, eh? "We are lucky to have done in a day what it took Lewis and Clark nine hard days to do. They made only nine miles the last day, and found the water 'excessively swift.' Well, so did we; but here we are." With the swiftness born of many nights in camp together, the four now unpacked the needful articles, not putting up any tent, but spreading it down on the floor of the cave. Their fire lit up the rocks in a wild and picturesque manner as they sat near, cooking and eating their first meal of the actual voyage up the great Missouri. "They got a deer that day," said Rob, poring over the _Journal_, "I expect about their first deer." Rob was turning over the pages on ahead. "Hah!" said he. "The men didn't always take care of the grub; here it says, 'Lyed corn and Grece will be issued, the next day Poark and flour, and the following, Indian meal and Poark, according to this Rotiene till further orders. No Poark will be issued when we have fresh meat on hand!'" "You listen, now, Jesse. With breakfast bacon at sixty cents a pound, and your appetite, we'll have to go after meat. Get out that throw line of yours and see if we can't hang a catfish by morning. Here's a piece of beef for bait." Jesse scrambled down the shore and threw out his line, with a rock for sinker, while the others finished making ready the beds. "Jolly old place," ventured John, "though a little hard for a bed. What you looking at, Rob?"