“Well, we soon made it up to the ferry and swung the old flatboat back to the men. They were so glad they laughed and cried and called me God’s good angel sent in answer to their prayers. They hadn’t had anything to eat fer two days, fer they had been expectin’ to ketch the pioneers sooner and hadn’t stocked up with much grub at Fort Laramie. “We hurried across the river again and followed the fresh pioneer trail fer about a mile, and there we found ’em camped jest beyend the bluffs of the river. It was a happy meetin’, I tell you. Their leader, Brigham Young, jest hugged the hungry men. As fer me, they couldn’t get over thankin’ me, though I hadn’t done nothin’ worth fussin’ ’bout. They fed me with the best they had and asked me all sorts of questions ’bout the country ’fore I left ’em. “I tell you, boy, there’s somethin’ in prayer. It’s a good thing to keep the trail between you and God clear.” The story seemed to open a vein of rich memories in the old mountaineer’s mind. Fred plied him with eager questions and listened rapt in interest as Uncle Dave told of his experiences in the western wilds. His old heart, warmed by the youthful spirit that drew him out, became youthful again as he lived over the days gone by. It was long past noon before either realized how the day had slipped away. Fred rose to go, saying appreciatively, “My, but I have enjoyed this fun. It has been a real pioneer day for me, Uncle Dave.” “Glad you come up, boy; but ye ain’t goin’ yet, air ye?” “Yes, I must be off now; I’ve made a promise to join in the fun that’s coming to-night.” “Thet’s right; keep yer promise, but come again.” “I will,” said the boy, as he turned Brownie up the trail toward home. CHAPTER VIII REMEMBERING THE EARLY DAYS The celebration was going merrily when Fred rode up to the “Ward House,” a large log structure set prominently among the scattered cabins that made the new village. It was used for all public gatherings by the Mormon colonists. He was not very late, however; for Dan, who stayed at home as usual, had taken a brotherly interest and insisted that Brownie be given a rest while Fred ride Chief, Dan’s best saddle horse. This was a rare privilege; but Dan went further. When Fred had opened his old valise to find clothes fit for the occasion, he revealed so scant a wardrobe that his friend, without seeming to see the lack, threw up the till of his own well-stocked trunk and urged the boy to help himself. “Oh, come, now; no foolishness,” he said imperatively, as Fred protested. “I know you haven’t had any money to blow in on cowboy finery. I used to do it, though; and these are some of the leavings of my sporty days; now help yourself. They’re not much use to me any more.” Dan did not tell what had sobered him. The death of his sweetheart a few years before had cast a lasting shadow over his life.