The captain of the boat turned slowly in his seat, casting a glance over his silent crew.
"Set in!" said he, sharply and shortly.
Without a word they obeyed, and with oar and steering-sweep the great craft slowly swung inshore.
Lewis stepped from the boat, and, not waiting to see whether he was followed--as he was by all of his men--strode on up the bank into the circle of light made by the camp fire. About the fire lay a dozen or more men of the hardest of the river type, which was saying quite enough; for of all the lawless and desperate characters of the frontier, none have ever surpassed in reckless audacity and truculence the men of the old boat trade of the Ohio and the Mississippi.
These fellows lay idly looking at Lewis as he entered the light, not troubling to accost him.
"Who hailed us?" demanded the latter shortly.
"Begorrah, 'twas me," said a short, strongly built man, stepping forward from the other side of the fire.
Clad in loose shirt and trousers, like most of his comrades, he showed a powerful man, a shock of reddish hair falling over his eyes, a bull-like neck rising above his open shirt in such fashion that the size of his shoulder muscles might easily be seen.
"'Twas me hailed yez, and what of it?"
"That is what I came ashore to learn," said Meriwether Lewis. "We are about our business. What concern is that of yours? I am here to learn."
"Yez can learn, if ye're so anxious," replied the other. "'Tis me have got three drinks of Monongahaly in me that says I can whip you or anny man of your boat. And if that aint cause for ye to come ashore, 'tis no fighting man ye are, an' I'll say that to your face!"
It was the accepted fashion of challenge known anywhere along two thousand miles of waterway at that time, in a country where physical prowess and readiness to fight were the sole tests of distinction. Woe to the man who evaded such an issue, once it was offered to him!
The speaker had stepped close to Lewis--so close that the latter did not need to advance a foot. Instead, he held his ground, and the challenger, accepting this as a sign of willingness for battle, rushed at him, with the evident intent of a rough-and-tumble grapple after the fashion of his kind. To his surprise, he was held off by the leveled forearm of his opponent, rigid as a bar against his throat.
At this rebuff he roared like a bull, and breaking back rushed in once more, his giant arms flailing. Lewis swung back half a step, and then, so quickly that none saw the blow, but only its result was visible, he shifted on his feet, leaned into his thrust, and smote the joyous challenger so fell a stroke in the throat as laid him quivering and helpless. The brief fight was ended all too soon to suit the wishes of the spectators, used to more prolonged and bloodier encounters.