The Young Alaskans on the Missouri

“Well, Richard, what is it this time?” His sister began to fold up her work, sighing, and to smooth it out over her knee. “We’ve just got settled down here in our own country, and I was looking for a little rest and peace.”

“You need it, after your Red Cross work, and you shall have it. You shall rest. While you do, I’ll take the boys on the trail, the Peace Trail—the greatest trail of progress and peace all the world ever knew.”

“Whatever can you mean?”

“And made by two young chaps, officers of our Army, not much more than boys they were, neither over thirty. They found America for us, or a big part of it. I call them the two absolutely splendidest and perfectly bulliest boys in history.”

“Oh, I know! You mean Lewis and Clark! You’re always talking of them to the boys. Ever since we came to St. Louis——”

“Yes, ever since we came to this old city, where those two boys started out West, before anybody knew what the West was or even where it was. I’ve been talking to our boys about those boys! Rather I should say, those two young gentlemen of our Army, over a hundred years ago—Captain Meriwether Lewis and Captain William Clark.”

His sister nodded gravely, “I know.”

“What water has run by here, since 1804, in these two rivers, the Mississippi and the Missouri! How the country has grown! How the world has changed! And how we have forgotten!

“That’s why I want to take them, even now, my dear sister, these young Americans, over that very same old trail—not so long and hard and full of danger now. Why? Lest we forget! Lest our young Americans forget! And we all are forgetting. Not right.

“You see? Because this old town of St. Louis was then only a village, and we just had bought our unknown country of France, and this town was on the eastern edge of it, the gate of it—the gate to the West, it used to be, before steam came, while everything went by keel boat; oar or paddle and pole and sail and cordelle. Ah, Sis, those were the days!”