and Colorado rivers.

The time had come at last, after years of hoping, after long months of
active preparation.

We stood at the freight window of the station at Green River City
asking for news of our boats. They had arrived and could be seen in
their crates shoved away in a corner. It was too late to do anything
with them that day; so we let them remain where they were, and went
out to look over the town.

Green River City proved to be a busy little place noisy with switch
engines, crowded with cattle-men and cowboys, and with hunting parties
outfitting for the Jackson Hole country. A thoroughly Western town of
the better sort, with all the picturesqueness of people and
surroundings that the name implies.

It was busier than usual, even, that evening; for a noisy but
good-natured crowd had gathered around the telegraph office, eager for
news of a wrestling match then taking place in an Eastern city. As we
came up they broke into a cheer at the news that the American wrestler
had defeated his foreign opponent. There was a discussion as to what
constituted the "toe-hold," three boys ran an impromptu foot-race,
there was some talk on the poor condition of the range, and the party
began to break up.

The little excitement over, we returned to the hotel; feeling, in
spite of our enthusiasm, somewhat lonesome and very much out of place.
Our sleep that night was fitful and broken by dreams wherein the
places we had known were strangely interwoven with these new scenes