THE NEWS
A horseman rode furiously over the new road from Fort Bellefontaine to
St. Louis village. He carried news. The expedition of Lewis and Clark
had returned!
Yes, these men so long thought lost, dead, were coming even now with
their own story, with their proofs. The boats had passed Charette, had
passed Bellefontaine, and presently would be pulling up the river to
the water front of St. Louis itself.
"Run, boys!" cried Pierre Chouteau to his servants. "Call out the
people! Tell them to ring the bells--tell them to fire the guns at the
fort yonder. Captains Lewis and Clark have come back again--those who
were dead!"
The little settlement was afire upon the instant. Laughing, talking,
ejaculating, weeping in their joy, the people of St. Louis hurried out
to meet the men whose voyage meant so much.
At last they saw them coming, the paddles flashing in unison in the
horny hands which tirelessly drove the boats along the river. They
could see them--men with long beards, clad in leggings of elk hide,
moccasins of buffalo and deer; their head-dresses those of the
Indians, their long hair braided. And see, in the prow of the foremost
craft sat two men, side by side--Lewis and Clark, the two friends who
had arisen as if from the grave!
"Present arms!" rang out a sharp command, as the boats lined up along
the wharf.
The brown and scarred rifles came to place.
"Aim! Fire!"
The volley of salutation blazed out even with the chorus of the
voyageurs' cheers. And cheers repeated and unceasing greeted them as
they stepped from their boats to the wharf. In an instant they were
half overpowered.
"Come with me!"
"No, with me!"
"With me!"
A score of eager voices of the first men of St. Louis claimed the
privilege of hospitality for them. It was almost by force that Pierre
Chouteau bore them away to his castle on the hill. And always
questions, questions, came upon them--ejaculations, exclamations.
"_Ma foi!_" exclaimed more than one pretty French maiden. "Such
men--such splendid men--savages, yet white! See! See!"
They had gone away as youths, these two captains; they had come back
men. Four thousand miles out and back they had gone, over a country
unmapped, unknown; and they brought back news--news of great, new
lands. Was it any wonder that they stood now, grave and dignified,
feeling almost for the first time the weight of what they had done?
They passed over the boat-landing and across the wharf, approaching
the foot of the rocky bluff above which lay the long street of St.
Louis. Silent, as was his wont, Meriwether Lewis had replied to most
of the greetings only with the smile which so lighted up his face. But
now, suddenly, he ceased even to smile. His eye rested not upon the
faces of those acclaiming friends, but upon something else beyond
them.
Yes, there it was--the old fur-shed, the storage-house of the traders
here on the wharf, just as he had left it two years before! The door
was closed. What lay beyond it?
Lewis shuddered, as if caught with chill, as he looked at yonder door.
Just there she had stood, more than two years ago, when he started out
on this long journey. There he had kissed that face which he had left
in tears--he saw it now! All the glory of his safe return, all the
wonderful results which it must mean, he would have given now, could
he have had back that picture for a different making.
"My matches--my thermometers--my instruments--how did they perform?"
The speaker was Dr. Saugrain, eager to meet again his friends.
"Perfect, doctor, perfect! We have some of the matches yet. As to the
thermometers, we broke the last one before we reached the sea."
"You found the sea? _Mon Dieu!_"
"We found the Pacific. We found the Columbia, the Yellowstone--many
new rivers. We have found a new continent--made a new geography. We
passed the head of the Missouri. We found three great mountain
ranges."
"The beaver--did you find the beaver yonder?" demanded the voice of a
swarthy man who had attended them.
It was Manuel Liza, fur-trader, his eyes glowing in his interest in
that reply.
"Beaver?" William Clark waved a hand. "How many I could not tell you!
Thousands and millions--more beaver than ever were known in the world
before. Millions of buffalo--elk in droves--bears such as you never
saw--antelope, great horned sheep, otters, muskrat, mink--the greatest
fur country in all the world. We could not tell you half!"
"Your men, will they be free to make return up the river with trading
parties?"
William Clark smiled at the keenness of the old French trader.
"You could not possibly have better men," said he.
The men themselves shook their heads in despair. Yes, they said, they
had found a thousand miles of country ready to be plowed. They had
found any quantity of hardwood forests and pine groves. They had seen
rivers packed with fish until they were half solid--more fish than
ever were in all the world before. They had found great rivers which
led far back to the heart of the continent. They had seen trees larger
than any man ever had seen--so large that they hardly could be felled
by an ax.
They had found a country where in the winter men perished, and another
where the winters were not cold, and where the bushes grew high as
trees. They had found all manner of new animals never known before--in
short, a new world. How could they tell of it?
"Captain," inquired Chouteau at length, "your luggage, your
boxes--where are they?"
Meriwether Lewis pointed to a skin parfleche and a knotted bandanna
handkerchief which George Shannon carried for him.
"That is all I have left," said he. "But the mail for the East--the
mail, M. Chouteau--we must get word to the President!"
"The President has long ago been advised of your death," said
Chouteau, laughing. "All the world has said good-by to you. No doubt
you can read your own obituaries."
"We bring them better news than that. What news for us?" asked the two
captains of their host.
"News!" The voluble Frenchman threw up his hands. "Nothing but news!
The entire world is changed since you left. I could not tell you in a
month. The Burr duel----"
"Yes, we did not know of it for two years," said William Clark. "We
have just heard about it, up river."
"The killing of Mr. Hamilton ended the career of Colonel Burr," said
Chouteau. "But for that we might have different times here in
Mississippi. He had many friends. But you have heard the last news
regarding him?"
It was the dark eye of Meriwether Lewis which now compelled his
attention.
"No? Well, he came out here through this country once more. He was
arrested last summer, on the Natchez Trace, and carried off to
Washington. The charge is treason against his government. The country
is full of it--his trial is to be at Richmond. Even now it may be
going on."
He did not notice the sudden change in Meriwether Lewis's face.
"And all the world is swimming in blood across the sea," went on their
garrulous informant. "Napoleon and Great Britain are at war again.
Were it not so, one or the other of them would be at the gates of New
Orleans, that is sure. This country is still discontented. There was
much in the plan of Colonel Burr to separate this valley into a
country of its own, independent--to force a secession from the
republic, even though by war on the flag. Indeed, he was prepared for
that; but now his conspiracy is done. Perhaps, however, you do not
hold with the theory of Colonel Burr?"
"Hold with the theory of Colonel Burr, sir?" exclaimed the deep voice
of Meriwether Lewis. "Hold with it? This is the first time I have
known what it was. It was treason! If he had any join him, that was in
treason! He sought to disrupt this country? Agree with him? What is
this you tell me? I had never dreamed such a thing as possible of
him!"
"He had many friends," went on Chouteau; "very many friends. They are
scattered even now all up and down this country--men who will not
give up their cause. All those men needed was a leader."
"But, M. Chouteau," rejoined Lewis, "I do not understand--I cannot!
What Colonel Burr attempted was an actual treason to this republic. I
find it difficult to believe that!"
Chouteau shrugged his shoulders.
"There may be two names for it," he said.
"And every one asked to join the cause was asked to join in treason to
his country. Is it not so?" Lewis went on.
"There may be two names for it," smiled the other, still shrugging.
"He was my friend," said Meriwether Lewis. "I trusted him!"
"Always, I repeat, there are two names for treason. But what puzzles
me is this," Chouteau continued. "What halted the cause of Colonel
Burr here in the West? He seemed to be upon the point of success. His
organization was complete--his men were in New Orleans--he had great
lands purchased as a rendezvous below. He had understandings with
foreign powers, that is sure. Well, then, here is Colonel Burr at St.
Louis, all his plans arranged. He is ready to march, to commence his
campaign, to form this valley into a great kingdom, with Mexico as
part of it. He was a man able to make plans, believe me. But of all
this there comes--nothing! Why? At the last point something failed--no
one knew what. He waited for something--no one knew what. Something
lacked--no one can tell what. And all the time--this is most curious
to me--I learned it through others--Colonel Burr was eager to hear
something of the expedition of Lewis and Clark into the West. Why? No
one knows! _Does_ no one know?"
The captain did not speak, and Chouteau presently went on.
"Why did Colonel Burr hesitate, why did he give up his plans
here--why, indeed, did he fail? You ask me why these things were? I
say, it was because of you--_messieurs_, you two young men, with your
Lewis and Clark Expedition! It was _you_ who broke the Burr
Conspiracy--for so they call it in these days. _Messieurs_, that is
your news!"