This land must have seen few Indians until the arrival of the horse, for the distances were great and water was increasingly scarce.

We rode to the Platte for water. The riverbed was wide and sandy, the river itself was shallow, and the water somewhat brackish. We drank, then rode back from the river and camped in a small cluster of trees on rising ground with a good field of fire in all directions.

While the others made camp and Sandy went with Heath to graze the horses, I cut out my hunting jacket and a pair of leggings. The buckskin was not properly prepared, nearly impossible to do while on the march. At home there had been a smooth log over which to throw the skin when scraping away the fat and membrane. On the trail I had to make do as best I could with what offered. Nor could I soak the hide in water and wood ashes for three days or so. I did put the hide to soak each time we made camp, and then scraped the hair loose as best I could. We had kept the brains of the antelope and these had been dried. Now I stewed them with some fat and rubbed the mixture into the hide. When that was completed, I stretched the hide and then rolled it carefully to keep for a couple of days longer before I finished it with scraping and smoking.

This was done by Indian women in the villages, but I must do it myself or go without, and I wished to save what clothing I had for those special occasions. The life of the Indian, whether man or woman, was never easy. To subsist in wild country called for much work, and for the squaws at least it was an unceasing task.

Degory Kemble rode into camp just as the sun had set, bringing with him the best cuts of meat from a buffalo calf.

When he was squatted by the fire, gnawing on a bone, he glanced up. "I saw something yonder," he said, "that shapes up for trouble." We waited, looking at him. He chewed for a moment, then said, "Moccasin tracks... boots among 'em. Maybe three white men, Spanish men, I'd say." "What's that to us?" Heath asked.

"They don't look kindly on folks coming into theirthe neighborhood," Talley explained.

"Bonaparte sort of took Louisiana from the Spanish, then sold it to us. The Spanish have a settlement or two down yonder and they throw anybody into prison who comes into theirthe country." He swept a hand in a wide arc.

"They claim most of this here, an' nobody ever did decide rightly where the boundary was. I heard of some French soldiers in Colorado ... hunting gold. The Spanish set the Utes on them." "Then we had best be careful," I suggested.

"Do you think they've seen us?" "Doubt it," Kemble commented, "but there's a big party, maybe forty in all. One of them might have hunted far enough east to see us." We ate in silence, for there was much to think about.

We were far from others of our kind, and could expect no help if trouble developed. The Spanish and the Indians had villages not too far off, but we were seven men alone, as if on another planet.

Yet there is a strength implicit in such a situation, for having no one on which to rely, we relied upon no one. Our problem was our own, and what must be done we would do ourselves, and looking about me, I decided that had I selected each man, I could have done no better.

These men were typical of what I had seen among those floating down the Ohio, crossing the Alleghenies or the Appalachians, coming west by whatever means... they were men who had chosen themselves. Each in his own mind had made the decision to go west. No king, no queen or general or president had said "Go west," but each man in his own way had decided, and finding what they faced had not turned back.

Looking upon these men, I knew that I, who had attended lectures at the Sorbonne and Heidelberg, who had himself lectured at Cambridge and William and Mary, I who had lunched with President Jefferson, who was a friend to Captain Meriwether Lewis, Henry Dearborn, Dr. William Thornton, Gilbert Stuart, and Count de Volney, I had at last come home. These were my people, this was my country.

Isaac Heath turned his head to me. "Is that true, Chantry? Is there no border?" "None has been defined. That's one reason for the Lewis and Clark expedition. Not only to see what lies out there, but to establish our presence in the area." Davy Shanagan appeared at the edge of the firelight. "Somebody comin'," he said softly.

"Five or six, maybe." His words were spoken over an empty fire, for each of us vanished ghostlike into the surrounding darkness. I, fortunately, had the presence of mind to retain my coffee. With the Ferguson rifle in my right hand, I drank coffee from the cup in my left.

A voice called out... in Spanish, and I replied in the same tongue, stepping quickly to the right as I did so. No shot was fired, and we heard the riders coming nearer. Two Spanish men, and four Indians.

Stepping into the firelight, I invited them to dismount. They did so, striding up to the fire. The man in the lead looked at me coolly. "I'm Captain Luis Fernandez!" he said. "I'm an officer of Spain." I bowed slightly. I could see he was somewhat surprised at my garb. "It's a pleasure to meet you, se@nor," I replied, "so far from home. On behalf of the American people, I welcome you to our country." There was nothing to be lost, I decided, in landing the first blow. That he was shocked was obvious.

"Your country?" he exclaimed indignantly.

"But this is Spanish territory!" The others of my party moved in from the shadows, all except Shanagan and Bob Sandy, who wisely remained on watch.

"Will you join us in some coffee, captain?" I suggested. Then I added, "I wasn't aware that your king's claims extended so far. In any event, the Louisiana Territory has been sold to the United States by the Emperor Napoleon." He stared at me in total disbelief. Yet my assurance left him somewhat uncertain, as he accepted the coffee. Glancing from one to the other of us, he suddenly burst out, "I don't believe it! It's impossible!" "It's true," I replied, and then added, "Under other conditions, captain, I'd resent your disbelief, but I'll overlook it under the circumstances." Before he could continue, I went on. "By the secret Treaty of San Ildefonso, the territory was returned to France. My government learned of this and began negotiations with the emperor. As you know, the slave revolt in Haiti and impending war with England left him in need of funds. The Senate approved the treaty and on the twentieth of December 1803, my government took formal possession.

"To repeat, Captain Fernandez, we welcome you as our guest." His face flushed with irritation. Ebitt was grinning openly, and both Kemble and Talley had difficulty in restraining their amusement.

"Nonsense!" he exploded, then added quickly, "In any event, this isn't a part of the Louisiana Territory. It's administered from Santa Fe." "I understand your surprise, captain," I replied gently. "In such wide open country, one often rides farther than one realizes, but you're now well within the territory of the United States." The captain was not pleased. He had come, I was sure, to order us out of the country or to place us under arrest. Communication was slow and must come by sailing ship from Spain to Mexico, from Mexico City to Santa Fe, and no doubt Fernandez had been absent several weeks.

"I believe none of this," he said sharply, "and in any event, you're under arrest. You'll be taken to Santa Fe where your case will be disposed of.

in due time." I smiled at him. "Under arrest, captain?

I could as easily arrest you, but the offense is trivial. I'm sure the amount of grass your horses have eaten will not cause us to suffer too much, but as for arresting us, you cannot. And captain, we will not be arrested." He threw his cup to the ground. "You'll surrender, or be taken by force!" "Take us, then." Solomon Talley spoke quietly. "Take us, captain." "I have forty men!" Fernandez threatened.