oo high. If everybody got twenty pounds they
would soon all be gone. Yet on the spawning run above, on the stream up
here, I have seen fellows stand on the bank and snake out strings of
them as long as a long willow would hold. I have known one man to say
he had caught ninety grayling out of one hole. Well, that's where they
go."

They wandered along slowly in the late afternoon, passing around one
willow plant to the next, usually fishing at some place where the grassy
meadow ran clean to the bank of the stream. They did not lack in sport,
and before long Jesse had a half dozen fine fish in his basket; then,
sighing, he said regretfully he thought he ought not to fish any longer.

"I will not urge you to," said Billy Williams. "'Most anybody else
would. But if you have got enough, let's go back to camp. We have got to
feed ourselves, of course, and give plenty to the ranchman if he will
take them; he may have friends to whom he would like to send a mess."

At dusk that evening they all gathered around their little camp fire,
which they had built not very far from the hospitable ranchman's house,
in acceptance of his kind invitation. Soon Billy and Con had grayling
frying, with enough and to spare for all, since Rob had taken a half
dozen fish, Uncle Dick as many, and John had come in with seven--one of
them rather small, as he explained it. The two young ranchmen had
baskets equally heavy, for, as they explained, they had neighbors who
did not like to eat the Henry's Lake trout, but preferred grayling, so
they thought it wise to take some home with them.

"Well I did go a little light on the fishing, fellows," said Uncle Dick,
"because I want you to stay here one more day before we start out for
Bozeman. That means two nights in camp, which will bring us into Bozeman
just past the middle of the month, with our summer's job pretty well
whipped."

"Which way are we going from Billy's, Uncle Dick?" demanded Jesse, with
his usual curiosity.

"Not yet decided," replied the other. "Wait until we get up there. We
still have a little work to do in studying out the return trip of
Meriwether Lewis and William Clark in the summer of 1806."

That night they had what John called a map party on the table in the
friendly ranchman's home. He and the two young Westerners joined them
all in examining the maps and the great river from St. Louis.

"That's something of a journey, I should say!" commented the ranchman.
"I'll warran