The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1917-04-14
U.ontinued.)

(t:ontinued./
 II can start ill half an hour," re- piled Meriwether Lewis.
 Are your men ready, your supplies gathered tegether?"
 The rendezvous is at Harpers Fer ry, up the river. The wagons with the supplies are ready there. I will take boat from here myself with few of the men. Not later than tomorrow afternoon I promise that we will be on our way. We burn the bridges be- hind us and cross none until we come to them.''
 Spoken like soldier! It is in your hands. Go then."
 There was one look, one hand clasp. The two men parted. Nor did they meet again for years.
 The sun still was young when Meri- wether Lewis at length descended the steps of the executive mansion.
 He was clad now for his journey, not in buckskin hunting garb, but with regard for the conventions of coun- try by no means free of convention. His jacket was of close wool, belted; his boots were high and suitable for riding. His stock, snowy white-for always Meriwether Lewis was immac- ulate-rose high around his throat in spite of the hot summer season, and his hands were gloved. He seemed soldier, leader, officer and gentlemen.
 sNo retinue, however, attended him; no servant was at his side. He went afoot and carried with hiR his most precious luggage-the long rife which he never intrusted to any hands save his own. Close wrapped around the stock, on the crook of his arm and not yet slung over his shoulder, was soiled buckskin pouch, which went al- ways with the rifle, the possible sack" of the wilderness hunter of that time. It contained his bullets, bullet molds, fints, a bar or two of lead, some tin der For priming, a set of awls.
 Such was the leader of one of the great expdh dhitions of the world.
 Meriwether Lewis had few goodbys to say. He had written but one letter. to his mother, late the previous even. ing. It wss worded thus:
 The day after tomorrow I shall set out for the western country. I had calculat- ed on the pleasure of visiting you before started, but circumstances have render ed it impossible. My absence will probably be equal to fifteen or eighteen months.
 The nature of this expedition is by no means dangerous. My route wil be alto gether through tribes of Indians friendly A. Y-s& IAvS the chances of life just as much in my favor as I should conceive them were to remain at home. The charge of this expe- dition is honorable to myself, aSit Is irn- portant to my country.
 For its fatigues I feel myself perfectly prepared. nor do doubt my health and strength of constitution to bear me through it. I go with the most perfect in my own mind of return ing safe and hope. therefore. that you will not suffer yourself to indulge in any anxiety for my safety.
 will write again on my arrival at Pitts burgh. Adieu. and believe me your affec- tionate son.
 No regrets, no weak reflections, for this man with a warriors weapon on his arm, where no other burden might lie in all his years. His were to be the comforts of the trail, the rude as- sociations with common men. the ter TOTS of the desert and the mountain, his freside only that of the camp Yet he advanced to his future steadily, his head high. his eye on ahead-a splendid figure of man.
 He did not at first hear the ga1lop of hoofs on the street behind him ok hA{ White House gate, he turned toward the river front. He was looking at the dull flood of the Potomac, now visible celOw him, but he paused, something to the strange sixth sense of the hunter. and turned. I
 A rider, me unted servant, was reckoning to him. Behind the horse man, driven at a stiff gait, came car -iage which seemed to have but a single occupant. Captain Lewis halt ed, gazed, then hastened forward, hat n his hand.
 Mrs Alstonr' he exclaimed as the came up. ''Why are you here? Is there any news?'
 "Yes. else I could not have come"
 But why have you come? Tell me!'
 He motioned the outrider aside. sprang into the vehicle and told the lriver to draw little apart from the more public street. Here he caught up the reins himself and, ordering the driver to join the footman at the edge of the roadway they had left, turned Tn tho woman at his side
 Pardon me-" said he. and his voice was cold. 'I thought I had cut all ties."
 Knit them again for my sake, tken Lewis. have brought you ! summons to return"
 "A summons? From whom?"
 My father, Mir. Merry, Senor Yrujo. They were ait our home all night. We could not, they could not, l could not bear to see you sacrifice yourself. This expedition can only fail. implore you not to go upon it. Do not let your mans pride drive you!'
 She was excited, half sobbing.
 Ut does not drive me. indeed" said