THE
PRAIRIE FLOWER
CHAPTER I.
THE PROPOSITION—THE RESOLVE—HO: FOR OREGON.
"Ho! for Oregon what say you, Frank Leighton?" exclaimed my college chum, Charles Huntly, rushing into my room, nearly out of breath, where I was cosily seated, with my sheep-skin diploma spread before me, engaged in tracing out my legal right to subjoin the magical initials, M. D., to my name. "Come, what say you, Frank?" queried my companion again, as I looked up in some surprise.
"Why, Charley," returned I, "what new notion has taken possession of your brain?"
"Oregon and adventure," he quickly rejoined, with flashing eyes. "You know, Frank, our collegiate course is finished, and we must do something for the remain der of our lives. Now, for myself, I can not bear the idea of settling down to the dry practice of law, without at least having seen something more of the world; and by all means I would not settle here in the east, where lawyers are as plenty as stubble in a harvested rye-field, and, for the matter of that, to make the comparison good, just about as much needed. You know, Frank, we have often planned together, where we would go, and what we would do, when we should get our liberty; and now the western fever has seized me, and I am ready to exclaim—ho! for Oregon."
"But, Charley," returned I, "consider; here we are now, snug in old Cambridge, nd Oregon is thousands of miles away. It is much easier saying, ho! for Oregon, than it is getting to Oregon. Besides, what should we do when there?"
"Hunt, fish, trap, shoot Indians, anything, everything," cried my comrade, enthusiastically, "so we manage to escape ennui, and have plenty of adventure!"
"I must confess," said I, "that I like the idea wonderfully well—but——"
"But me no buts!" exclaimed Huntley; "you will like it—I shall like it—and we will both have such glorious times. College—law—pah! I am heartily sick of hearing of either, and long for those magnificent wilds, where a man may throw about his arms without fear of punching anybody in the ribs. So come, Frank, set about matters—settle up your affairs, if you have any, either in money or love—and then follow me. Faith! man, I'll guide you to a real El Dorado, and no mistake."
The words of my companion produced a strong effect upon my naturally restless mind. Nothing that he could have pro posed, at that moment, would have suited my inclination better than such a journey of adventure; and no companion would I have chosen in preference to himself. We had been playmates together in infancy, we had studied together in youth, and, for the last four years, had been chums at old Harvard University—he studying law and I medicine. True, by the strict discipline of the University, we were not entitled to occupy the same apartment, on account of our different studies; but the influence
