"Well," said Rob, "we're doing pretty well, pretty well. In spite of delays, we're at the mouth of the Platte, sixteen days out, and they didn't get there till July 21st. I figure three hundred and sixty-six miles to Kansas City, and two hundred and sixty-six miles to here, say six hundred and thirty-two miles for sixteen days--the river chart says six hundred and thirty-five miles. That keeps us pretty close to our average we set--over forty miles a day. We've got to boost that, though. "Are we going to stop at Omaha, sir?" he added, rather anxiously. "Not on anybody's life!" rejoined Uncle Dick. "Nice place, but we're a day late. No, sir, we'll skip through without even a salute to the tribes from our bow piece. We've got to get up among the Sioux. Dorion has been talking all the time about the Sioux. So good-by for the present to the Platte tribes, the Pawnees, Missouris, and Otoes." "Gee! I'd like to shoot something," said Jesse, wistfully. "Just reading about things, now!" "Forget it for a while, Jess," smiled his uncle. "Just remember that we're under the eaves of two great cities, here at Plattsmouth. Take comfort in the elk and beaver sign you can imagine in the sand, here at the mouth of this river. It still is six hundred yards wide, with its current 'verry rapid roleing over Sands.' "Two voyagers of the Lewis and Clark expedition had wintered here before that time, trapping--the beaver were so thick. Imagine yourself not far up the river and shooting at an elk four times, as Will Clark did--then not getting him. Imagine yourself along with that summer fishing party along this little old river, and getting upward of eight hundred fish, seventy-nine pike, and four hundred and ninety cats; and again three hundred and eighteen 'silver fish'--I wonder, now, if that really could have been the croppy? Lord! boy--what a time they had, strolling, hunting, fishing, exploring new lands, visiting Indians, having the time of their lives!" "Let's be off," suggested Rob. And soon they were plugging along up the great river, threading their way among the countless bars and shoals. "I can see the full boats coming down the Platte!" said Jesse, shading his eyes, "hide canoes, full of beaver bales, that float light! And there are the _voyageurs_, all with whiskers and long rifles and knives." "Yes," said Uncle Dick, gravely. "And here are our men, tall, in uniform coats and buckskin leggings. See now"--and he reached for John's volume--"they let off the deserter, Moses Reed, very light. He only had to run the gantlet of the entire party four times--each man with nine switches--and get dropped from the rolls of the Volunteers! "And here is where Captain Lewis, experimenting with some strange water he had found--with some cobalt and 'isonglass' in it--got very ill from it. His friend Clark says 'Copperas and Alum is verry pisen.'"