lowers.

"My son!" was all she could say. "They told me that you never would
come back, that you were dead. I thought the wilderness had claimed
you at last, Merne!"

"I told you I should come back to you safe, mother. There was no
danger at any time. From St. Louis I have come as fast as any
messenger could have come. Next I must go to see Mr. Jefferson at
Washington--then, back home again to talk with you, for long, long
hours."

"And what have you found?"

"More than I can tell you in a year! We found the mysterious river,
the Columbia--found where it runs into the ocean, where it starts in
the mountains. We found the head of the Missouri--the Ohio is but a
creek beside it. We crossed plains and mountains more wonderful than
any we have ever dreamed of. We saw the most wonderful land in all the
world, mother--and we made it ours!"

"And you did that? Merne, was _that_ why the wilderness called to you?
My boy has done all that? Your country will reward you. I should not
complain of all these years of absence. You are happy now, are you
not?"

"I should be the happiest of men. I can take to Mr. Jefferson, our
best friend, the proof that he was right in his plans. His great dream
has come true, and I in some part helped to make it true. Should I not
now be happy?"

"You should be, Merne, but are you?"

"I am well, and I find you still well and strong. My friend, Will
Clark, has come back with me hearty as a boy. Everything has been
fortunate with us. Look at me," he demanded, turning and stretching
out his mighty arms. "I am strong. My men all came through without
loss or injury--the splendid fellows! It is wonderful that in risks
such as ours we met with no ill fortune."

"Yes, but are you happy? Turn your face to me."

But he did not turn his face.

"I told my friend, William Clark," he said lightly, as he rose, "to
join me here after an hour or so. I think I see his party coming now.
York rides ahead, do you see? He is a free negro now--he will have
stories enough to set all our blacks idle for a month. I must go down
to meet Will and our other guests."

William Clark, bubbling over with his own joy of life, set all the
household in a whirl. There was nothing but cooking, festivity,
dancing, hilarity, so long as he remained at Locust Hill.

But the mother of Meriwether Lewis looked with jealous eye on William
Clark. Success, glory, honor, fame, reward--these now belonged to
Meriwether Lewis, to the