CHAPTER VII
STRANGE COMPANIONS
Will Bertram studied his mother’s face searchingly as he sat down to breakfast that morning. The sad, patient features gave no indication of the decision arrived at regarding the proposed expedition, however, and Will was compelled to wait until the morning meal was over before the subject was referred to.
“Well, my son, your mother and I have talked over the matter of your going away,” said Mr. Bertram.
Will looked suspenseful.
“We have decided, since your heart seems so set upon it, to let you do as you please.”
“Oh, Father, I am so glad!” cried Will, rapturously. “Of course I long for the adventurous life the expedition offers—what boy wouldn’t?—but, honestly, I want to help you, and from a business point of view it’s the best thing open to me.”
He promised his mother to indulge in no reckless or dangerous exploits and to evade companionship with any evil persons he might meet.
Then, while his mother was making up a package of his clothes, Will went to the hotel.
Mr. Hunter expressed keen satisfaction with his decision. He drew a sort of contract between them, and, as he had promised, advanced the two months’ wages, and bade Will return by ten o’clock to leave home for good.
Will paid the money over to his mother, and took occasion to relate his adventures of the night previous. She trembled at the stirring recital. He listened attentively to her parting words of advice. Mrs. Bertram was not the woman to show her anxiety and grief at his departure but kissed him goodbye with cheering words and hopeful smiles.
Little did either dream of the long, weary months destined to intervene ere they again clasped hands.
Will’s step was quick and elastic, and his heart thrilled with pleasure as he again reached the hotel, his bundle of clothing strapped over his shoulder.
Youth does not cherish sadness, and his exuberant spirits regarded the parting with his parents tenderly rather than with forebodings of distress.
“Well, my boy, all ready?” asked Mr. Hunter, as he welcomed Will.
“Yes, sir.”
“If we ride to the meeting place where the expedition is we will have to wait for a stage. It’s barely ten miles. What do you say to a walk?”
Will expressed himself eminently satisfied with this arrangement, and the two set out at a brisk gait.
Watertown was soon left behind them. The morning was clear and frosty, and as they trudged along Mr. Hunter entered into numerous details regarding the expedition.
Will found him one of the most entertaining talkers he had ever met. He told of all the practical operations of museum, menagerie, and circus life, and revealed to his companion the fact that under the artificial glitter and tinsel of circus experience existed hard realities, of which securing the collection of animals was one.
The caravan bound for the expedition was reached shortly after noon. Mr. Hunter pointed it out to Will as they reached the edge of the town where he was to meet it.
Will Bertram was amazed to find that there were nearly twenty wagons and as many men.
Mr. Hunter noticed his surprise.
“Are you going to use all those wagons?” inquired Will.
“Yes, and possibly we will have to secure more before the expedition is ended. When we reach the northern limit of settlements half the wagons will remain there. The others will go on and again divide. When we come down to actual operations we will have only two wagons with us, one with cages for the animals we capture, and one for our own use. As soon as the former is filled we send it back to the last station, and the train moves forward the entire line, one station. Thus we will have a progressive and return caravan, the wagon with the animals going back to the nearest railroad town, shipping its cages, and coming back again.”
For over an hour, Will studied the caravan in all its appointments. He found the men composing it rough, good-natured people, who answered his numerous questions cheerfully.
They showed him the four living vehicles, as they were called, stout, boarded wagons, with heavy wheels and a stove and bunks inside, as also the supply or provision cart and the cage wagons. These latter were provided with barred cages, and in some of them were animals that had already been purchased from people along the route, consisting of a tame fox, a pet bear, and quite a number of birds.
The wounded osprey Will had rescued the night previous, and which Mr. Hunter had sent on early that morning, was being fed and nursed by a member of the caravan.
Up to this stage of the journey the party had remained at a hotel when they reached a town, but as villages grew less frequent it was designed to cook, eat, and sleep in the living wagons.
This nomadic life pleased Will from its very novelty, and he longed for the journey to begin, anticipating rare sport when they reached the wilderness, and marveling at the immense wagon load of traps and snares carried by the caravan.
Mr. Hunter ordered an immediate start. There were several extra horses, and he and Will rode two of them ahead of the train.
At dusk they halted in a little stretch of timber, no near town being visible. Huge torches were planted in the ground, the wagons drawn in a circle, the horses tethered, and an immense campfire built for the night.
It was a novel and busy sight for the interested Will, and he watched the preparations for supper with a keen appetite and rare enjoyment of the scene.
Suddenly, at one of the wagons, where a man was taking some feed for the horses, there was a quick commotion.
“Hello! Mr. Hunter,” he cried, “here’s a discovery.”
“What is it?” inquired Mr. Hunter, coming to the wagon, Will pressing close to his side.
Amid a mass of straw was a form, which kicked vigorously as the man endeavored to drag it from the wagon.
“A stowaway!” cried the man.
“True enough,” replied Mr. Hunter. “Pull him out, and let us have a look at him.”
“Let me go! Let me go! I tell you I haven’t done anything wrong!” cried a voice that fell familiarly on Will’s startled ear.
The man drew its possessor out of the wagon and wheeled him around to the campfire.
Mr. Hunter stared amusedly at the form thus revealed.
An amazed ejaculation swept Will Bertram’s lips as he recognized him.
“Why, it's Tom Dalton!” he cried, breathlessly.
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