340 IN THE OLD WEST 



turned down the stream, where the shallow waters 

 flow on to join the great Missouri — and not up, 

 towards the mountains, where they leave their 

 spring-heads, — from which springs flow several 

 waters, some coursing their way to the eastward, 

 fertilizing, in their route to the Atlantic, the lands 

 of civilized man, others westward, forcing a pas- 

 sage through rocky canons, and flowing through 

 a barren wilderness, inhabited by fierce and bar- 

 barous tribes. 



These were the routes to choose between; and, 

 whatever was the cause, the oxen turned their 

 yoked heads away from the rugged mountains ; the 

 teamsters joyfully cracked their ponderous whips, 

 as the wagons rolled lightly down the Platte ; and 

 men, women, and children waved their hats and 

 bonnets in the air and cried out lustily, " Hurrah 

 for home ! " 



La Bonte looked at the dark somber mountains 

 ere he turned his back upon them for the last time. 

 He thought of the many years he had spent be- 

 neath their rugged shadow, of the many hardships 

 he had suffered, of all his pains and perils in those 

 wild regions. The most exciting episodes of his 

 adventurous career, his tried companions in scenes 

 of fierce fight and bloodshed, passed in review be- 

 fore him. A feeling of regret was creeping over 

 him, when Mary laid her hand gently on his shoul- 

 der. One single tear rolled unbidden down his 

 cheek, and he answered her inquiring eyes : " I'm 



