SOME good manitou of the weather spirits seemed to be acting as the tutelary deity of the Missouri River Expedition, for on the week of the trip in the midst of a torridly tempestuous summer, the thermometer turned on perfect sunny weather not above seventy-two degrees for the six days, with only that one wild hurrah of a ramping wind at Fort Union to celebrate properly the equally wild days of the old fur post. Monday dawned so sunny and calm you heard old- timers of Montana, who had joined the trip to witness the dedication of a shaft to Meriwether Lewis, paraphrasing the poem,
"Turn back, O Time, turn back in your flight--
Just thirty years, just for to-night--"
to which Charlie Russell, the famous frontier artist, returned in his terse, inimitable drawl: "Yes, and if Time did turn back, do you think you fellows would be sober enough to catch this 9 A.M. train?"
"No; but it's so cursed to be getting old when the world is such a beautiful place to live in and life such a joyously happy old game"; and the train was speeding back twenty-eight or thirty miles East of Glacier Park,