"I was trying to find if the old Indian images were left, that used to be scratched or painted on the walls. Clark says the _voyageurs_ and Indians were superstitious about this place. I think caves are always spooky places." Soon they all felt tired and began to unroll the beds. A screech owl made a tremulous, eerie note, but even Jesse only laughed at that. They had breakfast before the mist was off the water, and before the cooking was begun Jesse called out from below: "Hey, there! Wait for me! I've got the breakfast right here! Call in the lyed corn and pork. Here's a catfish, four pounds, anyhow!" "Clean him, Jess," called Rob, "and cut him up small enough to fry." Jesse did so, and soon the slices were sizzling in the pan. "Well, anyhow," commented their leader, "though not as good as venison, it's wild game, eh? And our way has always been to live off the country all we could without breaking laws." "What changes, from then till now!" said Rob. "It was spring and summer when they went up this river, but they killed deer, turkeys, elk, buffalo, antelope, and wild fowl--hundreds--all the time. Now, all that's unlawful." "And impossible. Yes, they lived as the Indians lived, and they killed game the year round. Now, about all we can do for a while will be to eat the trusty catfish. "One thing has not changed," their leader added, a little later, "and that is the current along the rock faces. Just above is what Clark called 'The Deavels race ground'--a half mile that will try your motors, Rob. The big keel boat got in all sorts of trouble that day, whirling around, getting on bars, breaking her line and all that. The expedition came near getting into grief--men had to go overboard and steady her, and they were swimming, poling, rowing, and tracking all that day." Indeed, the great river seemed disposed to show the young travelers that her prowess had not diminished. They had a hard fight that day in more than one fast chute, and twice dragged the propellers on bars which they did not see at all. Uncle Dick used the oars three or four hours that day, and Jesse, the boatman, spread his foresail to gain such added power as was possible. In this way they made very good time, so that by late evening they reached the mouth of the Gasconade, which comes in from the left from the hill country. They got a good camp near the mouth, with abundance of wood. Jesse was so lucky as to take two fine wall-eyed pike, here called jack salmon, on his set line, as well as two catfish. They let the latter go, as they had enough for the day, the wall-eyes proving excellent. "Now we're beginning to get into deer!" said Rob. "Here George Shannon killed a deer, and Reuben Fields got one the next day. And all the time, as you no doubt remember, we've been meeting canoes coming down from the Omahas and Osages and Pawnees and Kansas, loaded down with furs!"