"And here's John Hardy with his maps!" exclaimed Jesse Wilcox. "Look it! He's got a notion he can do a map as well as Captain William Clark." "He's something of a born map maker, then!" responded Uncle Dick. "There was one of the born geniuses of the world in map making. What a man he'd have been in our work--running preliminary surveys! He just naturally knew the way across country, and he just naturally knew how to set it down. On hides, with a burnt stick--on the sand with a willow twig--in the ashes with a pipe stem--that's how his maps grew. The Indians showed him; and he showed us." "I've often tried to tell," said Rob, "which was the greater of those two men, Clark or Lewis." "You never will," said his uncle. "They were the two greatest bunkies and buddies of all the world. Clark was the redhead; Lewis the dark and sober man. Clark was the engineer; Lewis the leader of men. Clark had the business man in him; Lewis something more--the vision, the faith of the soul as much as the self-reliance of the body. A great pair." "I'll say they were!" assented John. "My! what times!" "And what a country!" added Jesse, looking up from his map. "Yes, son; and what a country!" His uncle spoke seriously. "But now, fellows," he added, "about that little _pasear_ of ours--that slide of a couple of thousand miles this summer, up the little old Missouri to the Rockies and down the river again--thing we were talking of--what do you say?" "Oh, but we can't!" said Jesse. "Oh, but I'll bet we can!" said John, who caught a twinkle in Uncle Dick's eye. "Yes, and we will!" said Rob, also noting his smile. "Yes," said Uncle Dick. "I've just come from talking with the acting commanding officer. She says that on the whole she gives consent, provided I don't keep you out of school." "It took Lewis and Clark two years," demurred John. "But they were out of school--even though poor Will Clark hadn't learned much about spelling. They didn't have to get back by the first week in September." "And we don't want to scamp it," said thoroughgoing, sober Rob. "But we don't want to motor it," countered John. "I'll tell you," said Jesse Wilcox, the youngest and smallest of the three. "We can go by power boat, most way, anyhow. That's not scamping it, all things considered, is it?" "By Jove!" said Uncle Dick, and again: "By Jove! An idea!" "But about how big a boat do you think this particular family, just after the war, can afford?" "We could easy buy a riverman's fishing skiff," said Jesse, sagely; "twenty feet long and narrow bottomed, but she floats light and runs easy and can carry a load." "But that's not a motor boat, son," said Uncle Dick. "Do you think we can row to the head of the Missouri and get back by September?" "Outboard motor," said Jesse, calmly. "Hah! As though that could stem the June rise on the Muddy!"