170 IN THE DAYS OF AUDUBON 



people will read the history of what America was in your 

 work. It will be one of the truest histories ever written." 



Victor became a wonderful painter of animals. 



Audubon now saw how wise had been the models that 

 his own good father had given him to follow. The old 

 sea-captain had wished him to enter the army, but when 

 he saw that his son had another gift, he did not oppose it; 

 he had opened the door of life to it. The elder Audubon 

 had died in 1818; he had seen his son working in poverty 

 in the vast forests; he had never had a glimpse of the 

 toiler's success except by faith. 



His old teacher, the Knitter of Nantes, too, had gone, 

 but she so firmly believed that when the cause of success 

 had been made, success will come, that she never doubted 

 that her schoolboy would become a great painter. A right 

 purpose only awaits its harvest. 



To picture the noble animals of the West now became 

 the life of each of his sons. 



These were harvest years. 



In March, 1843, Audubon left New York for a journey 

 to St. Louis and thence up the Missouri to the Yellowstone 

 River, a prairie country then, sixty or more years ago, now 

 an empire of populous States, grand cities, networks of 

 railways, and multitudinous homes. 



He was accompanied by Victor. The heart of the father 

 and son were still one. On April 29th they reached 

 Booneville, distant from St. Louis about two hundred and 



