The brother of Pettibone arrived. He had no
tastes for natural history, but it was a season of leisure, and he was
prone for the adventure. But the experienced woodsmen who had agreed to
go, and who had talked largely of encountering bears and Osage Indians,
and slaughtering buffalo, one by one gave out. I was resolved myself to
proceed, whoever might flinch. I had purchased a horse, constructed a
pack saddle with my own hands, and made every preparation that was
deemed necessary. On the 6th of November I set out. Mr. Ficklin, my good
host, accompanied me to the outskirts of the settlement. He was an old
woodsman, and gave me proper directions about hobbling my horse at
night, and imparted other precautions necessary to secure a man's life
against wild animals and savages. My St. Louis auxiliary stood stoutly
by me. If he had not much poetry in his composition, he was a reliable
man in all weathers, and might be counted upon to do his part willingly.
This journey had, on reflection, much daring and adventure.
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