midday
To-morrow I start east to Laramie -- and you start west for Oregon ! '' And in the morning following two riders left Bridger 's for the trail . They parted , each waving a hand to the other . A rough low cabin of logs , hastily thrown together , housed through the winter months of the Sierra foothills the two men who now , in the warm days of early June , sat by the primitive fireplace cooking a midday meal . The older man , thin , bearded , who now spun a side of venison ribs on a cord in front of the open fire , was the mountain man , Bill Jackson , as anyone might tell who ever had seen him , for he had changed but little . That his companion , younger , bearded , dressed also in buckskins , was Will Banion it would have taken closer scrutiny even of a friend to determine , so much had the passing of these few months altered him in appearance and in manner . Once light of mien , now he smiled never at all .