EDWARD 
 STRATEMEYER 
 
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The battle was now on in all its fury. — Page 281. 
 
CM , 
 
 Colonial Series 
 
 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 THE YOUNG HUNTERS OF THE OHIO 
 
 Br 
 EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 Author of "With Washington in the West," "American 
 
 Boys' Life of William McKinley," " Old Glory 
 
 Series," " Pan-American Series," "Dave 
 
 Porter Series," etc. 
 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY J. W. KENNEDY 
 
 BOSTON" 
 LOTHEOP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
 
Published August, iqofi 
 
 Copyright, 1906, by Lothkop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Trail and Trading Post 
 
 IRorwoc^ iprese 
 
 Berwick & Smith Co. 
 
 Norwood, Mass. 
 
 U. S. A. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 "Trail and Trading Post" is a complete story 
 in itself, but forms the sixth and last volume of a 
 line known under the general title of "Colonial 
 Series." 
 
 As I have mentioned before, when I started this 
 series I had in mind to write not more than three 
 volumes, telling of colonial times during the war 
 between France and England for the possession of 
 Canada and the territory bordering the Great Lakes. 
 The first book, entitled "With Washington in the 
 West," told of the disastrous Braddock campaign 
 against Fort Duquesne; the second, called "March- 
 ing on Niagara," gave many of the particulars of 
 General Forbes's advance against the same French 
 stronghold and likewise the particulars of the ad- 
 vance of Generals Prideaux and Johnson against 
 Fort Niagara; while the third volume, "At the Fall 
 of Montreal," told of the heroic fighting of General 
 Wolfe at Quebec, and that last contest which 
 brought this long-drawn struggle to a close. 
 
 The war with France was now over, but the 
 
VI PREFACE 
 
 Indians were very bitter against the English, and in 
 a fourth volume, called "On the Trail of Pontiac," 
 were given the particulars of how that noted red 
 warrior formed a conspiracy among a number of 
 tribes to exterminate the English. The first con- 
 spiracy failed to come to a head, but Pontiac was not 
 disheartened, and in a fifth volume, "The Fort in 
 the Wilderness," were related how the warriors 
 under him laid siege to Fort Detroit and Fort Pitt, 
 and how the English under Colonel Bouquet won 
 the bloody battle of Bushy Run, — the last regular 
 contest with the red men for some years to 
 come. 
 
 With the Indian struggle at an end, the English 
 were more eager than ever to push forward to the 
 west, to establish trading posts and settlements, and 
 it is with this movement that the present volume con- 
 cerns itself. The advance of the whites was watched 
 with hatred by the Indians, who lost no opportunity 
 to do them injury. Among those to push onward, 
 to the fertile country bordering the Ohio River, were 
 our old friends, the Morrises — and what they did to 
 make our glorious country what it is to-day I leave 
 the pages which follow to relate. 
 
 In closing this series I wish to thank the many 
 thousands who have shown their appreciation of my 
 efforts to amuse and instruct them. In penning the 
 
PREFACE Vii 
 
 volumes I have endeavored to be as accurate his- 
 torically as possible, and I trust the perusal will do 
 my young readers much good. 
 
 Edward Stratemeyer. 
 Independence Day, 1906. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. A Glimpse of the Past 
 
 II. A Buffalo and a Bear 
 
 III. Dave and the Indian 
 
 IV. Taken by Surprise 
 
 V. The Flight to the River 
 
 VI. Back to the Fort 
 
 VII. The Start for the East . 
 
 VIII. The Massacre of a Pack-Train 
 
 IX. Under the Cliff 
 
 X. Barringford as a Scout . 
 
 XI. In Which White Buffalo Appears 
 
 XIL Home Once More 
 
 XIII. An Old Enemy Appears 
 
 XIV. A Fight with a Wolverine 
 XV. Wolves, and a Snowstorm 
 
 XVI. Saved by a Windstorm 
 
 XVII. The Journey to the Trading Post 
 
 XVIII. Running into a Trap 
 
 XIX. The Shooting Contest 
 
 XX. Another Long Journey 
 
 XXI. A New Move .... 
 
 XXII. A Fight among Wild Beasts . 
 
 XXIII. The Rescue of the Stranger . 
 
 ix 
 
 page 
 i 
 
 9 
 
 18 
 
 28 
 
 37 
 
 46 
 
 56 
 
 65 
 
 75 
 
 85 
 
 95 
 
 105 
 
 "5 
 
 125 
 
 135 
 
 145 
 
 155 
 
 164 
 
 174 
 184 
 194 
 204 
 214 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIV. Snowbound on the Trail .... 225 
 
 XXV. Crushing News 234 
 
 XXVI. Bv Way of the Tunnel 244 
 
 XXVII. Holding the Trading Post .... 254 
 
 XXVIII. In Which a Battering Ram Is Used . . 264 
 
 XXIX. From Enemies to Friends .... 274 
 
 XXX. For Life or Death 285 
 
 XXXI. Days of Peace — Conclusion .... 297 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The battle was now on in all its fury (page 
 
 .287) Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Both were now getting ready to renew the contest, 15 
 
 " I think we had better take turns watching," said 
 Henry 49 
 
 He glanced up, saw his dire peril, and let himself 
 
 drop 77 
 
 " Boka must kill both before either awakens," mur- 
 mured the Indian 147 
 
 " A bull's-eye for Henry Morris I" 176 
 
 The old frontiersman swept through the opening . 258 
 
 Bevoir pitched headlong into the smoldering camp- 
 fire 298 
 
TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST 
 
 "If we can only get that buffalo, Henry, it will 
 be a feather in our cap." 
 
 "Right you are, Dave. But the animal may be 
 miles and miles away by this time. As you know, 
 they can run a long distance when they are 
 frightened." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know that well enough," answered 
 Dave Morris, as he rested for a moment on the 
 paddle he had been using. "I haven't forgotten 
 the buffalo that once knocked our tent flat and ran 
 away." 
 
 "And I haven't forgotten how I went after him 
 and nearly lost my life tumbling over the rocks and 
 down the big hill," added Henry. "I can tell you, 
 I don't want another such experience !" 
 
 "Do you think the buffalo went around the head 
 of the lake ?" 
 
 "He was headed that way — the last I saw of him. 
 
2 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Let us paddle up to the brook and go ashore. If 
 the tracks are there we can follow them: if not, I 
 reckon we'll have to give up the hunt and content 
 ourselves with some small game." 
 
 "You don't suppose that there any unfriendly 
 Indians around," resumed Dave Morris, after a few 
 minutes of silence, during which time both young 
 hunters applied themselves to the paddles of the 
 canoe they occupied. "I've had enough of fighting 
 to last me for a long time to come." 
 
 "There is really no telling about that, the redskins 
 are so treacherous. Down at the fort they seem to 
 think the district for fifty miles around is clear, but 
 Sam Barringford told me to keep my eyes peeled — 
 that there is no telling yet what may happen. The 
 war is over, but Pontiac isn't dead, and neither is 
 Moon Eye, and a lot more of the other chiefs." 
 
 "Don't mention Moon Eye to me," said Dave 
 Morris, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "That 
 Indian will never forgive me for escaping from him 
 with Nell and the twins. I suppose he'd give a 
 whole lot to get his hands on me again." 
 
 "As for that, he'd like to get his hands on any of 
 the men who fought against him and his followers. 
 
 The Indians think Wait, Dave! Turn in to 
 
 the shore, quick! I just saw the buffalo. He is 
 back of the rocks over yonder !" 
 
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST 3 
 
 The canoe was turned in the direction indicated 
 with all possible speed. Soon it glided under some 
 overhanging bushes, and the paddles were stowed 
 away noiselessly. Then each of the young hunters 
 caught up his flint-lock musket, looked to the prim- 
 ing, to make certain that the weapon was ready for 
 use, and stepped ashore. 
 
 "As you saw him first, you lead," whispered Dave 
 Morris to his companion, and Henry led off, with 
 the other youth close at his heels. Both had their 
 eyes and ears on the alert for whatever might turn 
 up. 
 
 As the old readers of this "Colonial Series" know, 
 Dave and Henry Morris were cousins, of about the 
 same age, who when at home lived near Will's 
 Creek, Virginia — close to where the town of Cum- 
 berland now stands. Dave was the only son of a 
 widower, James Morris, who was a well-known trap- 
 per and fur trader. Henry came of a more numer- 
 ous family, he having an older brother Rodney 
 and also a sister Nell, a bright miss of tender 
 years. 
 
 In the first three volumes of this series, entitled, 
 respectively, "With Washington in the West," 
 "Marching on Niagara," and "At the Fall of Mon- 
 treal," I told how Dave worked for the first Presi- 
 dent of our country when the latter was but a humble 
 
4 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 surveyor, and how the youth also served under his 
 former employer during the memorable and disas- 
 trous Braddock advance on Fort Duquesne — held at 
 that time, 1755, by the French, and located where the 
 prosperous city of Pittsburg stands to-day. This 
 was really the opening of the fourth intercolonial 
 war, and was followed by an attack on Fort Niagara, 
 and then by assaults on Quebec, Montreal, and other 
 points, in which fights both Dave and Henry took 
 active parts, doing their duty as common soldiers to 
 the best of their ability. 
 
 With the close of the war between England and 
 France, both of the young soldiers were glad enough 
 to return home, which they did in company with a 
 number of others, including Sam Barringford, a 
 frontiersman who had been their friend through 
 thick and thin, and also White Buffalo, an old chief 
 of the Delawares, who was very friendly with all of 
 the Morrises and who had done them more than one 
 service. 
 
 Previous to the war Dave's father had established 
 a small trading post in what was then considered the 
 "far western country." This was on the Kinotah, 
 a small but beautiful stream flowing into the Ohio 
 River. The trader had a good deal of trouble with 
 a rascally Frenchman, who claimed the post as his 
 own, and who hired a number of Indians to make 
 
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST 5 
 
 war on Mr. Morris, and at last the post had to 
 be abandoned. 
 
 "I shall go and re-establish myself in the west," 
 said James Morris, to his son and to his other 
 relatives, and soon he set forth with a pack-train, as 
 related in the fourth volume of this series, called 
 "On the Trail of Pontiac." Dave and Henry went 
 with him, and after a number of more or less thrill- 
 ing adventures, the site of the post was reached. 
 The place had been burned down, and the forest for 
 a long distance around was a mass of blackened 
 tree-stumps. Seeing this, the party journeyed 
 further, presently reaching the Ohio, where a new 
 post was established and held, despite the warlike 
 attitude of Pontiac and many other Indian chiefs. 
 Once the trader and his men had to retreat to Fort 
 Pitt (formerly Fort Duquesne) for protection. A 
 fierce fight was had with the enemy under Jean Be- 
 voir, the rascally French trader who had caused the 
 Morrises so much trouble, and nearly all of the 
 enemy were killed, Bevoir himself being wounded 
 both in the arm and the side. 
 
 Pontiac's first conspiracy against the English had 
 come to naught, but the wily Indian leader was not 
 dismayed, and soon he plotted to fall upon many of 
 the settlements simultaneously. What this led to 
 has been related in detail in the fifth volume of this 
 
6 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 series, entitled "The Fort in the Wilderness." Fort 
 Detroit was besieged and likewise Fort Pitt and 
 many other points of lesser importance, and had it 
 not been for the advance of an English army from 
 the east, with victories at Bushy Run and other 
 points, there is no doubt but that the massacre of the 
 settlers would have been appalling. As it was, 
 James Morris had to abandon his new trading post, 
 and he and Flenry, with some others, reached Fort 
 Pitt only after a desperate struggle to escape the red 
 men. 
 
 Dave, during this trouble, was at the home near 
 Will's Creek. Here the effects of the uprising were 
 also felt. White Buffalo, the ever-faithful friend, 
 brought word to the Morrises, and they took their 
 flight to Fort Cumberland just in the nick of time. 
 
 During a previous winter, when the snow lay deep 
 upon the ground, the old frontiersman, Sam Bar- 
 ringford, had made a curious discovery. Wrapped 
 in a bundle swinging from a tree he had found two 
 boy babies, evidently twins. He had carried the 
 twins to the Morris cabin, where Mrs. Morris had 
 taken care of the babes, who, later on, were named 
 Tom and Artie. Barringford learned through 
 White Buffalo that a Frenchman at Detroit knew 
 something about the twins and he determined to visit 
 the fort, taking Dave with him. The trip brought 
 
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST 7 
 
 to light little that was new, but the old frontiersman 
 and the young soldier saw how Fort Detroit was 
 besieged and had much trouble in getting away. 
 Then, in company with Rodney Morris, the two 
 joined the English army marching westward to 
 relieve Fort Pitt. After the battle of Bushy Run 
 Dave was made a prisoner by some Indians under 
 Moon Eye and taken to a village, where, to his sur- 
 prise, he also found the twins and Nell, they having 
 been stolen some time previous. Watching his 
 chances, the young soldier managed to escape in a 
 canoe during a violent storm, taking the little twins 
 and his cousin with him. Later he was aided by 
 White Buffalo, and though the Indians under Moon 
 Eye did their best to retake their captives, they were 
 soon halted by James Morris, Rodney, Barringford, 
 Henry, and some of the English regulars, and were 
 forced to leave that section of the country. Dave 
 continued on his way to Fort Pitt with his relatives 
 and friends ; and there the whole party rested for the 
 time being. In the meantime word was received 
 from the east that matters had quieted down around 
 Will's Creek, so that Joseph Morris and his wife 
 could return to the old homestead, for which those 
 at the fort were thankful. 
 
 "I'd like to be back home myself," said Rodney. 
 In years gone by he had been almost a cripple and 
 
8 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 the campaign against the Indians had told greatly 
 upon him. 
 
 "I think you had better start before long," his 
 uncle had answered. "Your father will need you, 
 and besides Nell and the twins must get back." 
 
 While at Fort Pitt the Morrises and Sam Barring- 
 ford had come in contact with Benoit Vascal, the 
 Frenchman who knew something about the twins. 
 They thought Vascal had stolen the children from 
 their parents, but the Frenchman laid the blame on 
 one Paul Camont, who had been killed by the wolves 
 at the spot where Tom and Artie were found. 
 Benoit Vascal said the children belonged to a Mr. 
 Maurice Hamilton, a gentleman who had visited 
 America to look up some land claims. It was said 
 that Mr. Hamilton had returned to London almost a 
 year before. A letter was sent to England, but in 
 those days it took a long time to cross the ocean, and 
 so far no answer had been received. It had been 
 decided to keep Benoit Vascal a prisoner at Fort Pitt, 
 but the wily Frenchman slipped away and left for 
 parts unknown. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 A BUFFALO AND A BEAR 
 
 Two weeks had passed quietly at Fort Pitt when 
 Dave suggested to Henry that they go out on a hunt 
 for large game. In the meantime it was arranged 
 that Rodney, Sam Barring-ford, and a number of 
 others should journey to the east, taking little Nell 
 and the twins with them. The start was to be made 
 on the following Monday, and this was Thursday. 
 
 "You must be very careful," said Mr. Morris, 
 when the two young hunters set out on their quest 
 for big game. ''Run no needless chances, and if you 
 see any unfriendly Indians lose no time in returning 
 to this fort." 
 
 It was the middle of September — a clear, cool day, 
 with a faint breeze blowing from the northward. 
 Dave and Henry had set out directly after breakfast, 
 each armed with his long flint-lock musket and his 
 hunting knife, and each carrying a game bag with a 
 day's rations. Both wore their old army uniforms, 
 which were much the worse for the hard usage re- 
 ceived. But, as Dave remarked, anything was good 
 
 9 
 
IO TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 enough for the forest, where nobody was likely to see 
 them. 
 
 Three hours of tramping had brought them to a 
 small body of water, called by the Indians Lake 
 Kashaka. Here, drifting about, they came across 
 an Indian canoe containing two good paddles. 
 Without hesitation they entered the canoe and 
 crossed the lake, where they came upon the track of 
 several deer. They were deliberating upon whether 
 to follow the trail or not when Henry chanced to 
 look up the lake and see a buffalo near some rocks. 
 The animal was gazing at them with lifted head, and 
 almost instantly ran from sight behind some bushes. 
 
 "There's our meat !" cried Henry, and dashed back 
 to the canoe. Then he told of what he had seen, and 
 the boys made after the game, as already described. 
 Buffaloes were not so plentiful in this section of the 
 country as they had been previous to the coming of 
 the English and French hunters, and the idea of 
 bringing down so much good meat at a single shoot- 
 ing filled the youths with keen enthusiasm. 
 
 It took the two young hunters but a few minutes 
 to reach the spot where Henry had seen the buffalo. 
 The game was not in sight, but the marks of his 
 hoofs were plainly to be seen and some young and 
 tender bushes showed where he had been browsing. 
 
 "'Tis only a question of how far he had traveled," 
 
A BUFFALO AND A BEAR II 
 
 said Henry, who had always been considered the best 
 hunter among the Morris boys. "It may be only a 
 quarter of a mile, and then again it may be six or 
 eight miles." 
 
 "Let us follow the trail, at least for awhile," an- 
 swered Dave. "It is plain enough. He must be a 
 pretty heavy fellow, by the depth of the marks he 
 has left." 
 
 "I imagine all full-grown buffaloes are rather 
 heavy," answered Henry. "Come on, and do not 
 make any more noise than is necessary. We don't 
 want him to get scared again — if he is within 
 hearing." 
 
 The trail of the buffalo led up a small hill and then 
 down into a bit of meadow, where the grass was 
 thick and damp. As the youths progressed a flock 
 of birds started up directly in front of them and 
 presently they caught sight of three fair-sized 
 rabbits. 
 
 "Now just look at that!" cried Dave, in vexed 
 tones. "They seem to know that we are afraid to 
 shoot at them, for fear of disturbing the bigger 
 game." 
 
 "Puts me in mind of what Ira Sanderson once 
 said," returned his cousin with a grin. "He argued 
 that a fellow always saw the best game when he was 
 out without his shooting-iron." 
 
12 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I reckon he was right, Henry; I've seen some fine 
 deer when I didn't have anything to shoot with." 
 
 The two young hunters now relapsed into silence, 
 as the meadow came to an end and they entered the 
 forest. Here there was a buffalo trail well defined, 
 having been used by the animals for many years. 
 The trail in general was old, but the fresh hoofmarks 
 of the single animal that had just passed were easily 
 followed by Henry, who was as good on a trail as 
 the average Indian. 
 
 The forest was a primeval one, with great trees 
 stretching their branches in all directions. Mon- 
 strous roots lay sprawled over the trail, and they had 
 to watch out that one or the other did not take a 
 tumble. The air was filled with the songs and cries 
 of birds, while here and there they heard the steady 
 tap-tap of the woodpecker at his work. They could 
 have brought down a dozen squirrels had they felt 
 so inclined, and not a few chipmunks also showed 
 themselves. 
 
 "That buffalo must have gone quite a way." re- 
 marked Henry, as they came to a halt in the midst of 
 a forest glade. "We have already covered a good 
 mile and a half." 
 
 "Don't give up yet," pleaded Dave, who had set 
 his heart on returning to Fort Pitt with the news of 
 laying low the bison. 
 
A BUFFALO AND A BEAR 1 3 
 
 "Oh, I'm willing enough to go on, Dave. But 
 we have got to leave the regular trail now." 
 
 "Where is the new trail ?" 
 
 "Over yonder," and Henry pointed with his hand. 
 
 "It seems to me he left the regular trail rather 
 suddenly," remarked Dave, walking over to the spot 
 indicated. "Don't you think so?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "I don't know, excepting that something must 
 have scared him — some rabbits in the brush, or some- 
 thing like that." 
 
 Once more the two young hunters pushed forward, 
 the trail now leading among some rocks, where walk- 
 ing was anything but agreeable. In some places 
 there were sharp brambles which scratched them not 
 a little. 
 
 "Henry, that buffalo didn't come this way for 
 nothing," whispered Dave. 
 
 "Just what I think. He was scared, and scared 
 good and proper too. I wish I knew what did it." 
 
 "Can there be any other hunters around here ?" 
 
 "That isn't impossible. A number of the men 
 who were at the fort have gone away in the last few 
 days. Some of them may be in this vicinity." 
 
 "If they are I trust we shoot that buffalo first." 
 
 They now reached another rise of ground, beyond 
 
14 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 which was a depression encircled by bushes and 
 rocks. As they mounted the rise they heard a pecu- 
 liar snort. 
 
 "Listen !" whispered Henry, and held up his 
 hand. 
 
 "It's the buffalo!" answered his cousin. "And 
 hark ! Some other animal is there !" 
 
 "I think I know what it is, Dave. Be careful now 
 and don't make any more noise." 
 
 Guns to the front, they crawled up the rise and 
 peered through the fringe of brushwood. A sight 
 met their gaze that thrilled them to the heart. 
 
 The buffalo was there, heavy-set and shaggy as to 
 head and shoulders, and with a look of fierceness in 
 his staring eyes. He was crouched beside a rock, 
 and directly in front of him was a small she-bear, 
 standing on her hind legs, and with her jaws drip- 
 ping with blood. Behind the bear were two half- 
 grown cubs, both whining because of wounds in 
 their sides. 
 
 To Henry's practiced eye the scene told its own 
 story. In leaping over the rise of ground the buf- 
 falo had come close to the den of the bear and had 
 stepped on both of the cubs, who were probably 
 playing around at the time. This had aroused the 
 ire of the mother bear, and she had sprung to the 
 rescue and bitten the buffalo in the flank. The big 
 
Both had separated, and were now getting- ready to renew 
 the contest. — Page 15. 
 
A BUFFALO AND A BEAR 1 5 
 
 beast, unable to proceed on his flight, had turned 
 around and struck the bear in the side. Then both 
 had separated, and were now getting ready to renew 
 the contest between them. 
 
 The mother bear now uttered a peculiar sound, 
 and at this the cubs retreated to a hole under some 
 rocks, which was their home. The next instant the 
 buffalo charged once more, hitting the bear squarely 
 on the head and knocking her over. But as she 
 tumbled, she caught her enemy by the neck and sank 
 her teeth deeply into the buffalo's throat. 
 
 "What a fight!" whispered Dave. "What shall 
 we do?" 
 
 "Wait — but be ready to shoot," answered Henry. 
 "I think the buffalo will try to run for it in another 
 minute." 
 
 There was a snarl and a snort, and the buffalo did 
 his best to throw the bear off. But the latter clung 
 fast, in the meantime clawing rapidly with her hind 
 feet at the bison's forequarter. Then the buffalo 
 swung around, knocking the smaller beast against 
 the rocks with such force that the two young hunters 
 heard the ribs of the bear crack. She fell to the 
 ground and the buffalo struck at her repeatedly with 
 his hoofs. 
 
 "It's all over with the bear." whispered Dave. 
 "Hadn't we better shoot at the buffalo ?" 
 
16 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Before Henry could reply, the bison swung 
 around once more and made a leap which, for the 
 instant, took him out of sight of both youths. His 
 instinct told him of more danger in that vicinity, 
 and he sprang up on some rocks to get a better look 
 around. This movement brought him face to face 
 with Dave and Henry. 
 
 Crack ! It was the report of Henry's gun, and the 
 bullet hit the bison on the side of the head, not far 
 from the left eye. But the shot was merely a glanc- 
 ing one and did little damage. Then Dave 
 fired, hitting the beast in the fleshy part of the 
 neck. 
 
 The fight with the bear had left the buffalo in 
 anything but a good humor and the two shots from 
 the young hunters only added to his ugliness. He 
 paused to glare at the pair and then made a savage 
 leap towards Henry, lowering his horns as he did so. 
 
 ''Look out!" screamed Dave, and Henry sprang 
 to one side. The movement was so quick that he 
 could not calculate on where he was going and he 
 slipped into a hollow, his right foot going down 
 between two heavy stones in such a fashion that his 
 ankle was badly wrenched. 
 
 The buffalo now turned upon Dave and he too 
 leaped away. With unloaded gun he could do noth- 
 ing, and as quickly as possible he started to put in 
 
A BUFFALO AND A BEAR 1 7 
 
 a fresh charge and fix the priming. In the mean- 
 time the buffalo swung around once more, gave 
 Henry and the bear another look, and then sprang 
 for the brushwood and was out of sight in a 
 twinkling. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 DAVE AND THE INDIAN 
 
 "He has gone!" 
 
 "Shoot him, Dave, shoot him !" 
 
 With frantic haste Dave fixed the priming of his 
 flint-lock musket. But long before the weapon was 
 ready for use the buffalo was out of sight and 
 hearing. 
 
 On the ground in the hollow lay the she-bear, giv- 
 ing a last convulsive shudder. At the mouth of her 
 den were the two cubs, whining plaintively, as if 
 they understood that something had gone wrong. 
 Henry sat on one of the rocks, with his foot still 
 caught fast and a look of pain on his face. 
 
 "What's the matter? Did the buffalo hit you?" 
 called out his cousin, after he had looked to make 
 certain that the bear could do no further harm. 
 
 "No, but I — I hurt my ankle," panted Henry. 
 He gave his leg a pull. "Oh ! But that hurts !" 
 
 "The bear is out of it," said Dave. He came 
 closer. "Hullo, your foot is caught. Let me help 
 
 18 
 
DAVE AND THE INDIAN I9 
 
 you. I reckon we have seen the last of that buf- 
 falo." 
 
 "I don't know about that, Dave. We both hit 
 him, and the bear gave him something to remember 
 her by." 
 
 "Poor beast! She certainly did what she could 
 for her cubs. Just look at them now !" 
 
 It was an affecting sight. The mother bear had 
 passed away and both of the cubs had crawled forth 
 from the den and were licking her face and pushing 
 her form with their little noses. Then both began 
 to whine once more. Neither seemed to think of 
 running away. 
 
 Dave set down his gun and helped Henry to release 
 his caught foot. Then they took off the legging 
 and the shoe. The ankle had begun to swell and 
 there was a deep scratch on one side. 
 
 "Can you step on it?" asked Dave, and his cousin 
 tried to do so. He caught his breath and gave a 
 gasp. 
 
 "Like pins and needles going through my 
 leg!" he announced. "Oh, what luck! And we 
 didn't get the buffalo after all !" he added, rue- 
 fully. 
 
 The bear cubs now came up and one made a snap 
 at Dave's foot while the other took up Henry's shoe 
 and began to chew it. Seeing this, Dave drew his 
 
20 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 hunting knife and dispatched them both. Then he 
 turned again to his cousin. 
 
 "I suppose it is out of the question for you to 
 think of walking," he said. 
 
 "Not just yet," answered Henry. "Maybe I'll 
 be able to do it in an hour or two." 
 
 "Then we may as well rest right here. One com- 
 fort, we have the bear and her cubs even if we didn't 
 get the buffalo." 
 
 "Dave, why don't you follow the trail again? 
 That buffalo may not be far off. It won't do any 
 good for you to sit down here by me — I can take 
 care of myself. Only be careful that the beast 
 doesn't corner you." 
 
 "I'll do it. But I'll get you some water first," 
 answered Dave. 
 
 He had noted a spring just before coming to the 
 bear hollow, and he walked back to it and procured 
 some water in a gourd they carried for that purpose. 
 With this Henry started to bathe his swollen ankle, 
 while Dave took to the fresh trail the buffalo had 
 made. 
 
 "Don't stay away more than an hour !" called out 
 Henry after him. 
 
 "Not unless it takes a little longer to get a good 
 chance at the buffalo," replied his cousin. 
 
 The buffalo had crashed through a long stretch of 
 
DAVE AND THE INDIAN 21 
 
 brushwood where the trail could be followed with 
 ease. Then he had taken to the old trail once more, 
 at a point a good half-mile from where he had before 
 left it. 
 
 "He is bound for the west, that's certain," said 
 Dave to himself. "And more than likely he will 
 keep on until sundown. I may as well give up all 
 hopes of bringing him down. Heigh-ho! such are 
 the fortunes of hunting!" And he heaved a deep 
 sigh. 
 
 He kept on for quarter of a mile further, reaching 
 a point where the trail crossed a small but clear 
 stream of spring water. Here the bison had paused 
 for a drink, and resting his gun against a tree, the 
 young hunter got down on his hands and knees to 
 do likewise. 
 
 The water tasted so good that Dave took his time 
 and drank his fill. Then he raised his head, started 
 to rise, and looked toward the tree where he had 
 placed his weapon. 
 
 The gun was gone ! 
 
 For the moment the young hunter could not be- 
 lieve the evidence of his senses. He remained in a 
 crouching position, wondering what he had best do. 
 He felt that an enemy must have taken the gun, and 
 wondered who it could be. With caution he looked 
 around, but not a soul was in sight. 
 
22 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 It was a peculiar position to be in, and small 
 wonder that the cold perspiration stood out upon 
 the young hunter's forehead. He had been in 
 peril before, among the Indians, and felt fairly- 
 certain that a red man had gotten the better of 
 him. 
 
 What was best to do? He asked himself the 
 question several times, his heart beating meanwhile 
 like a trip-hammer within his breast. An enemy 
 was surely at hand. What would be the next move- 
 ment of the unknown? 
 
 Cautiously he put his hand to his side, drew his 
 hunting knife, and arose slowly to an upright posi- 
 tion. Overhead the branches of the trees were 
 tightly interlaced, making the spot rather gloomy. 
 The stream came down between a number of rocks 
 which were backed up by bushes and trees. Would 
 it be best to make a dash for this shelter ? 
 
 "White boy drop knife!" 
 
 The unexpected command, issued in a guttural 
 tone, came from a clump of brushwood behind Dave. 
 The young hunter swung around, but could see no 
 one. 
 
 "White boy drop knife, or Indian shoot," were the 
 next words spoken, and now Dave saw the barrel of 
 his own gun pointed at his breast. 
 
 "Who are you ?" he asked. 
 
DAVE AND THE INDIAN 23 
 
 "White boy drop knife, or shoot him sure!" was 
 the only answer, and now the muzzle of the gun was 
 shoved a little closer to the youth's breast. Looking 
 through the brushwood, Dave made out the repulsive 
 features of a savage and saw the wicked gleam of 
 his black eyes. 
 
 There seemed to be no help for it, and the hunting 
 knife dropped to the ground. The Indian gave a 
 grunt of satisfaction and then stepped into the open- 
 ing, still, however, keeping the gun levelled at 
 Dave's breast. He was a brawny warrior of the 
 Senecas, arrayed in his war-paint and feathers, 
 and he carried a tomahawk and a knife in 
 his girdle and a bow with arrows across his 
 shoulders. 
 
 "Where white boy come from?" he asked, 
 abruptly. 
 
 "I came from Fort Pitt," answered Dave. "Why 
 did you steal my gun ?" 
 
 At the last question the red man gave a grunt that 
 might mean anything. He looked Dave over with 
 care and made him back away, so that he could se- 
 cure the lad's hunting knife, which he placed beside 
 his own. 
 
 "White boy sodger, um?" went on the savage, 
 noting the tattered uniform. 
 
 "Yes, I have been a soldier," answered Dave. He 
 
24 TRAIT, AND TRADING TOST 
 
 continued to gaze at the savage. "I've seen you 
 before. Oh, I remember now. You were with 
 Moon Eye, right after I was captured. You had 
 something to do with the stealing of my little cousin 
 and the twin boys." 
 
 The red man's eyes flashed, but he did not answer 
 to this. Evidently he was pondering upon what to 
 do next. He had come upon Dave quite unex- 
 pectedly and had taken the gun on the impulse of 
 the moment. 
 
 "White boy alone?" he asked, after an awkward 
 pause. 
 
 "No, I have a good many friends around here," 
 was Dave's quick reply, but he did not add that the 
 majority of his friends were at the fort. 
 
 At this the face of the warrior darkened. He 
 allowed the gun barrel to drop and drew his toma- 
 hawk. If others of the whites were near he thought 
 it might be best to brain Dave on the spot, making as 
 little noise as possible, and then get away from that 
 vicinity. 
 
 The young hunter understood the movement, and 
 his heart leaped into his throat. He had no desire 
 to feel the edge of the savage's stone hatchet. As 
 the gun barrel dropped still lower he thought of 
 the rocks and the brushwood and made a spring 
 towards them. 
 
DAVE AND THE INDIAN 25 
 
 "Pawah!" cried the Indian, in a rage. "White 
 boy stop!" And he made a dash after the youth. 
 But as luck would have it one moccasin caught in a 
 trailing vine and he pitched headlong. As he went 
 down, the trigger of the gun struck some brush, 
 caught fast, and the piece went off with a loud re- 
 port. 
 
 Dave imagined the gun was discharged at him- 
 self, and fully expected to feel the sting of the bullet, 
 perhaps in some vital portion of his body. He felt 
 himself making a silent prayer, and as the sting did 
 not come realized that as yet he was unharmed. He 
 cleared the rocks at another bound, almost fell into 
 the bushes, and ran on and on with all the speed he 
 could command. 
 
 Dave covered a good quarter of a mile before he 
 thought of coming to a halt. He was now in the 
 very depths of the great forest, with a heavy growth 
 of timber on all sides of him. The way had been 
 rough and he had stumbled twice, scratching his 
 hand and his knee so that they smarted greatly. 
 He was far away from the buffalo trail and also 
 away from the stream where he had stopped for a 
 drink. He had made a number of turns while run- 
 ning, and could not tell in what direction he had left 
 either the red warrior or Henry. 
 
 "Here's a fine kettle of fish!" he muttered, as he 
 
26 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 stopped to catch his breath. "Everything is going 
 wrong to-day. First we lost the buffalo, then Henry 
 sprained his ankle, and now here am I, trying to get 
 away from a redskin who wants to take my life and 
 who has robbed me of my rifle and hunting knife! 
 I wonder what will happen next?" 
 
 He listened intently, but could hear nothing of his 
 red foe, nor could he see anything to alarm him. It 
 was more gloomy than ever under the trees, the sun 
 having gone under a cloud. The breeze sighed 
 mournfully through the tallest branches, and only 
 the occasional note of a bird, or the distant bark of 
 a fox, broke the stillness. 
 
 Dave did not dare to linger long in one spot, fear- 
 ing that the Indian might be sneaking over his trail 
 with the slyness of a fox. He pushed forward, hop- 
 ing to come to a series of rocks, or a deep stream, 
 where the trail might be hidden. 
 
 His search was at last rewarded. Some flat rocks 
 appeared, forming something of a cliff. He walked 
 over these, taking care to avoid every accumulation 
 of dirt or trailing vines. Then, coming to the end 
 of the stones, he leaped down into a gully, where 
 flowed a stream of water several feet wide and more 
 than a foot deep. He followed this stream a long 
 distance, until it was lost among some rugged rocks, 
 where his further progress appeared to be barred. 
 
DAVE AND THE INDIAN 27 
 
 "There — I don't think that Indian can follow me 
 to here," he told himself. "The question is, How 
 am I to get back to Henry without being discovered, 
 and how are we both to get back to the fort?" 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 TAKEN BY SURPRISE 
 
 Dave's hasty flight had tired him out, and he was 
 glad enough to sit down upon one of the rocks and 
 rest. The cloudiness in the sky had continued, and 
 it looked as if there might be a shower before night- 
 fall. 
 
 The young hunter was in anything but a cheerful 
 frame of mind, and would have given a good deal to 
 have been back at the fort once more. He was 
 worried also about his cousin, and trusted that 
 Henry would not fall into the hands of the Indian. 
 
 At last, having gotten back his breath, he re- 
 solved to start off once more and see if he could not 
 locate the spot where he had left his cousin. He 
 walked through the forest with extreme caution, 
 often coming to a halt, to survey the surroundings 
 and make sure that the enemy was nowhere near. 
 
 Thus a full hour more was consumed, and he knew 
 that Henry would now be growing exceedingly 
 anxious concerning his prolonged absence. 
 
 "I hope he doesn't try to follow me up," said Dave 
 28 
 
TAKEN BY SURPRISE 29 
 
 to himself. "If he does it's more than likely that 
 redskin will see him." 
 
 At length, after moving in several directions, the 
 young hunter came to a spot that looked slightly 
 familiar to him. He made a circle of the point, and 
 finally recognized it as the very spot he had come 
 to with White Buffalo when he and the Indian were 
 on the way to the fort with little Nell and the twins. 
 
 "Well, I never thought I'd see this place again !" 
 he murmured, half aloud. "I wish I had White 
 Buffalo with me now. I'd feel a heap safer than I 
 do." 
 
 He now knew how to reach the fort, and resolved 
 to follow that course until he should come to the 
 point where the trail crossed that which he and 
 Henry had taken after leaving the lake to go after 
 the buffalo. Then he would follow up the buffalo 
 trail to where his cousin had been left. 
 
 He tramped on and on, growing bolder as he saw 
 nothing more of his red enemy. It was well past 
 noon, and he munched some of the rations in his 
 game bag, washing down the hasty meal with more 
 water from a brook. 
 
 He was almost up to the spot where the fight 
 between the buffalo and the bear had occurred when 
 he suddenly heard the murmur of voices, conversing 
 in the Indian language. Looking to one side of the 
 
30 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 clearing, he made out four Indians, one of whom 
 was the fellow who had deprived him of his rifle and 
 hunting knife. 
 
 The discovery came as a shock to Dave, and once 
 again his heart sank within him. He had presence 
 of mind enough to leap behind some bushes, and a 
 moment later the red men passed within three yards 
 of him. Then he heard a cry from the Indians, fol- 
 lowed by an exclamation from Henry. 
 
 "They have found him!" thought Dave, and he 
 was right. The four red men came upon poor 
 Henry just as he was putting on his shoe, prepara- 
 tory to looking for his cousin. One leaped forward, 
 pinning the young hunter to the rocks, and in a 
 twinkling the four had made him a prisoner and dis- 
 armed him. 
 
 "What does this mean?" demanded Henry, 
 although he knew only too well. "Let up, I say!" 
 But the Indians paid no attention. One carried a 
 length of rawhide and with this they bound the 
 young hunter's hands behind him. Then his pockets 
 were searched, and they took from him the three 
 shillings and sixpence he happened to be carrying. 
 
 After the capture, the four Indians held a con- 
 sultation among themselves. It was in their native 
 tongue, so that Henry could understand next to 
 nothing. 
 
TAKEN BY SURPRISE 3 1 
 
 "White boy come with Indians," said the red man 
 who could speak English. He had joined his 
 brother warriors after giving up the chase after 
 Dave. 
 
 At that moment Henry caught sight of the extra 
 hunting knife and the rifle he knew only too well. 
 
 "Dave's gun and Dave's knife !" he cried. "What 
 have you done with him?" he asked, with a sinking 
 heart. 
 
 The Indian would not answer this question, but 
 drew up his eyes in a peculiar fashion that caused 
 Henry to shiver. He concluded that Dave must 
 have been killed, although he noted with just a grain 
 of hope that none of the warriors carried his cousin's 
 scalp. 
 
 Despite the fact that his ankle hurt him a good 
 deal, Henry was forced to march along with the 
 Indians, who prodded him now and then with the 
 points of their hunting knives to make him move 
 along faster. The course was to the northwest, to a 
 stream known to the red men as the Mustalonack, 
 where a small band had taken up their secret abode 
 since the disastrous battle of Bushy Run. 
 
 After what was to Henry a painful walk lasting 
 an hour, the Mustalonack was reached, and from the 
 bushes along the bank the Indians drew a long canoe. 
 They made Henry enter and then got in themselves 
 
32 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 and shoved off. The course was up the stream, and 
 two used the paddles. As the current was rather 
 swift, the progress of the craft was necessarily slow. 
 
 In moving towards the river the Indians had been 
 on the alert for the possible appearance of white 
 hunters or English soldiers. They knew that to 
 stay in that neighborhood was dangerous, and they 
 expected in a few days to move much further to the 
 westward, perhaps even as far as the Mississippi. 
 They were awaiting orders from their chief, who, in 
 turn, was hoping every day to receive some wam- 
 pum, or speech belt, from Pontiac. 
 
 But though the red warriors were on the alert, 
 their eyes were not sharp enough to catch sight of 
 Dave, as he followed them at a safe distance. Al- 
 though unarmed, the young hunter could not bear 
 to think of leaving his cousin to his fate, and so he 
 kept the party in front in sight, hoping that sooner 
 or later he would be able to render Henry some 
 assistance. 
 
 When the Indians set off in the canoe, Dave was 
 for the moment nonplussed, not knowing how to fol- 
 low them. But when he saw how slowly the craft 
 moved, he took courage, and walking through the 
 forest along the shore, managed, although not with- 
 out an effort, to keep them in sight until they had 
 journeyed as far as they wished, when he saw them 
 
TAKEN BY SURPRISE 33 
 
 land on the opposite shore, pull the long canoe into 
 the bushes, and hurry once more into the forest. 
 
 To some faint-hearted persons this might have 
 meant the end of the pursuit, but Dave was made of 
 sterner stuff, and besides he loved his cousin too 
 dearly to give up the hope of a rescue thus readily. 
 He saw that the stream at this point was rather shal- 
 low, and without hesitation pulled off his shoes and 
 stockings, rolled up his breeches, and waded in. 
 
 Fording the stream was not as easy as it looked, 
 and more than once Dave was in danger of slipping 
 down on the loose rocks or of having the current 
 carry him off his feet. But he managed to reach the 
 opposite shore of the stream in safety, and there, 
 donning his stockings and shoes again, hurried on 
 after the red men as before. 
 
 Dave had not gone very far when he saw the un- 
 mistakable signs of an Indian village. He slack- 
 ened his pace and soon saw a lean and hungry- 
 looking Indian dog coming toward him. The canine 
 began to bark viciously and showed his teeth. 
 
 Here it was that the young hunter's nerve again 
 showed itself. He was well acquainted with the 
 general worthlessness of the Indian curs — dogs that 
 were not to be compared with the hunting and watch 
 animals of the English — and picking up a sharp 
 stone he let drive, taking the canine in the side. The 
 
34 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 dog gave a sharp yelp, turned and fled, and that was 
 the last Dave saw of the animal. 
 
 In the meantime the Indians had arrived at their 
 temporary village, located in a dense portion of the 
 forest, and consisting of nothing more than half a 
 dozen dirty shelters of blankets and skins. In the 
 center was a small clearing where a campfire 
 smoldered, and around this lolled half a dozen 
 Indians, while not far off were several squaws and 
 a dozen dirty and half-clad Indian children. 
 
 The coming of the four warriors with their captive 
 produced a mild sensation, and there was a running 
 fire of questions and answers in the native dialect, 
 lasting some time. In the meanwhile two of the 
 warriors bound Henry to a tree near the largest of 
 the wigwams, and left him, for the time being, to 
 take care of himself. 
 
 The head of the tribe, Moon Eye, was away, and 
 was not expected back until the next day at noon. 
 This being so, the Indians decided to keep Henry 
 where he was. He was given nothing to eat, and 
 when he asked for a drink he was handed some 
 dirty water that even a dog would have refused. 
 
 "What do you want of me?" Henry asked, of the 
 Indian who could speak English. 
 
 "White boy wait and he shall see," answered the 
 warrior. 
 
TAKEN BY SURPRISE 35 
 
 "Did you kill my cousin — the one who owns that 
 rifle and the hunting knife ?" 
 
 "White boy must not ask so many questions." 
 
 "If you don't let me go you'll get into trouble," 
 went on Henry, thinking he might scare the Indians 
 into releasing him. "See how you have already suf- 
 fered. The English have many soldiers — they can 
 do the red men great harm." 
 
 "The French have many soldiers also," answered 
 the warrior. "Soon their army will come to the 
 aid of Pontiac and his followers." 
 
 This was a story that had often been told to the 
 red men by the French traders, and many of the 
 Indians believed it. But they waited in vain for help 
 from France, or from Canada. Instead of sending 
 help, the king of France sold his holding along the 
 Mississippi to Spain, so that the Indians were worse 
 off than ever. 
 
 As night came on it began to rain gently, while a 
 heavy mist filled the air. The Indians did not like 
 this at all, and after huddling around the campfire 
 for awhile the majority of them crawled into the 
 wigwams and went to sleep. Two of them visited 
 Henry, binding him more securely to the tree than 
 ever, so that to break or slip his bonds was entirely 
 out of the question. 
 
 "White boy sleep good," said one of them, as a 
 
36 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 joke, and then both stalked over to the fire once 
 more. But the rain and the mist were not to their 
 liking and presently they, too, retired. Then the 
 fire died down gradually, and the Indian village be- 
 came as quiet as a graveyard. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 the flight to the river 
 
 "Henry!" 
 
 "Dave ! How did you manage " 
 
 "Hush! Don't make any noise, or the Indians 
 may hear you. Stand still until I untie the ropes. 
 They took my knife away from me." 
 
 No more was said just then. Henry's heart gave 
 a great bound of joy. Dave was alive and well, 
 after all. The discovery was almost too good to be 
 true. 
 
 With dextrous fingers Dave undid the rawhide 
 which held his cousin a prisoner. Henry was so 
 stiff that he staggered, and Dave had to support him 
 for the moment. 
 
 "Come with me to the river — we can take to the 
 canoe," whispered Dave into his cousin's ear. He 
 was fearful that one of the Indians might awaken at 
 any moment and stop their flight. 
 
 "All right, Dave, but " Henry hesitated, and 
 
 tried to look through the darkness and the rain. 
 "Are you armed?" 
 
 37 
 
38 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Neither am I — they took everything I had. We 
 ought to try to get at least one rifle and a knife." 
 
 "Yes, but the risk ?" 
 
 "Is the canoe ready for use?" 
 
 "Yes, — all we have to do is to jump in and shove 
 off." 
 
 "Then keep still until I take a look around. At 
 the first sign of an alarm make for the canoe as tight 
 as you can." 
 
 Henry's wrenched ankle still pained him, but in 
 the excitement of the occasion he paid no attention 
 to the injury. With the wiliness of the red war- 
 riors he was trying to outwit, he crawled forward 
 in the darkness until he was close to one of the wig- 
 wams. This he knew held several Indians and also 
 his own weapons and those belonging to Dave. 
 
 With bated breath the young hunter raised the 
 dirty flap to the wigwam and tried to pierce the 
 darkness inside. He could see next to nothing. He 
 crawled in a little further, and his hand came in 
 contact with an Indian's foot. He felt further, and 
 touched the barrel of a gun. He raised the weapon 
 and drew it towards him. One of the red men gave 
 a deep sigh and a grunt, but did not awaken. 
 
 Encouraged by his success so far, Henry crawled 
 forward again and this time obtained the second 
 
THE FLIGHT TO THE RIVER 39 
 
 rifle, the powder horns, and also one of the hunting 
 knives. His eyes were now becoming accustomed 
 to the darkness, and finding a tomahawk he took 
 that too, and then a bow and a quiver full of arrows. 
 
 At that instant one of the Indians turned over, 
 muttering in his sleep. Fearful that he was awaken- 
 ing, the young hunter made a hasty move toward the 
 wigwam opening. He stepped on the foot of a 
 sleeping warrior, and the red man sat up with a 
 start and called out in his native tongue, demanding 
 to know what was the matter. Then, as he saw 
 Henry dart from the shelter, he gave a war-cry that 
 alarmed the entire camp. 
 
 "Lead the way to the canoe, Dave !" cried Henry. 
 "And here, take one of these rifles. If they press 
 us too closely, fire !" 
 
 Dave took the weapon handed to him, and side 
 by side they rushed toward the river. Hardly had 
 they gained the shelter of the forest when the red 
 warriors were in full pursuit. One caught up a dy- 
 ing brand from the fire, and swinging it in a circle 
 soon had it burning brightly for a torch. 
 
 Fortunately for the two young hunters, Dave had 
 noted the trail to the river with care, so that he did 
 not get mixed up, even though it was dark and misty. 
 But Henry could not run very fast on account of his 
 lame ankle. 
 
40 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I'm glad we are to — to go by way of the — 
 the river," he gasped. "I — I can't run much 
 further!" 
 
 The Indians were yelling wildly, and one of them 
 let fly an arrow which whizzed through the bushes at 
 their side. Dave caught his cousin by the arm, to 
 aid him, and an instant later another arrow flew 
 directly between their heads. 
 
 "They must see us, Henry. Come, can't you run 
 just a bit faster?" 
 
 "I'll — I'll try," gasped Henry, and gritted his 
 teeth, so great was the pain in his ankle. 
 
 The forest now came to an end, but luckily for 
 the youths the river was bordered with thick brush- 
 wood. Into this they dove, and in half a minute 
 more reached the point where Dave had left the 
 canoe in readiness for immediate flight. 
 
 "It's gone!" cried the young hunter, in dismay. 
 
 "The canoe?" queried his cousin. 
 
 "Yes, I left it right here." 
 
 "Then we are lost!" 
 
 Sick at heart, they caught each other by the arm 
 and listened. The Indians were close at hand. 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 "Let us try to trick them !" whispered Dave, and 
 caught up a stone that was handy. He threw it into 
 the water with a splash, and then threw another 
 
THE FLIGHT TO THE RIVER 41 
 
 stone after it. This accomplished, he drew Henry 
 into the bushes, and both made their way down the 
 shore for a good hundred feet, walking in shallow 
 water to conceal the trail. 
 
 The mist over the water was thicker than in the 
 forest, and when the Indians came out on the shore 
 they could see little or nothing, even though they 
 swung the torch in all directions. 
 
 "They leaped into the water, — I heard them," 
 said one warrior, in the Indian language. 
 
 "I heard them too," answered another. "They 
 must be swimming for the other side." 
 
 "We'll get into the canoe and look around," put 
 in a third. 
 
 They ran to where the long canoe had been left, 
 and then uttered cries of anger at finding the craft 
 missing. 
 
 "They have taken the canoe !" 
 
 " If that is so we cannot catch them — the mist will 
 hide them from view." 
 
 "Moon Eye will be angry when he finds his best 
 canoe gone," grumbled the Indian who could speak 
 English. "And my bow is gone too!" 
 
 The Indians continued to walk up and down the 
 river bank, looking for some trace of the two whites. 
 They could not imagine who had come to Henry's 
 rescue, but thought it must be somebody from Fort 
 
42 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Pitt, and were much disturbed, thinking that some 
 English soldiers might be in that vicinity. 
 
 Meanwhile Dave and Henry remained hidden in 
 the bushes, close to the water's edge. They caught 
 an occasional flash from the torch, but otherwise saw 
 nothing of their enemies. The cooling water 
 seemed to soothe Henry's ankle greatly, for which 
 the young hunter was grateful. 
 
 "Let us go on a little further," whispered Henry, 
 after a short rest, and while the Indians were out of 
 sight and hearing. "The further we get away, the 
 better." 
 
 Dave was more than willing, and they moved 
 through the shallow water until they reached a bend 
 in the river. Then both gave a cry of satisfaction : 
 
 "The canoe!" 
 
 "It must have drifted to this spot," said Dave. 
 "See, the paddles are just as I left them. But I 
 thought the canoe was fast." 
 
 "Get in and be quick about it," returned his 
 cousin. 
 
 They entered the craft and shoved out into the 
 stream. The rain had ceased, but the mist was so 
 thick they could scarcely see two yards in any direc- 
 tion. Catching up the paddles, they guided the 
 canoe down the watercourse as best they could. At 
 first they caught a faint glimpse of the Indians' 
 
THE FLIGHT TO THE RIVER 43 
 
 torch, but this was quickly swallowed up by the mist 
 and darkness. 
 
 "I reckon we are out of it," said Dave, after 
 quarter of an hour had passed. "And I am glad of 
 it." He heaved a long sigh of relief. 
 
 "You are not half as glad as I am," answered his 
 cousin. "I felt pretty blue when they had me tied to 
 the tree, I can tell you! How ever did you locate 
 me?" 
 
 "It's a long story," answered Dave, and then told 
 of his meeting with the Indian who could speak 
 English, and of what had happened afterward. 
 
 "We can certainly count ourselves more than 
 lucky," said Henry. "In nine cases out of ten those 
 redskins would have killed us on the spot, and 
 scalped us in the bargain. They are terribly bitter 
 because Pontiac's last conspiracy failed." 
 
 "I think I know why they let you live, Henry. 
 They wanted to learn how matters stood at the fort. 
 They'd make you tell everything, even if they had to 
 torture you into doing it." 
 
 "I reckon you are right on that point." 
 
 Feeling themselves safe for the time being, the 
 two young hunters stopped paddling and tried to 
 gaze around them. Nothing could be seen but the 
 mist and water, the latter rushing along with in- 
 creased swiftness. 
 
44 TRATL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Did they have another canoe?" asked Henry, 
 presently. 
 
 "I couldn't find any, and I looked pretty care- 
 fully." 
 
 "In that case, they won't be able to follow us very 
 readily." 
 
 "They won't know where to look for us, in this 
 darkness, Henry. The question is, Where are we 
 going? I know nothing of this river, do you?" 
 
 "I do not, but I imagine it flows into the Alle- 
 gheny or the Ohio." 
 
 "If it will take us to the fort, that is just where 
 we want to go." 
 
 They talked the matter over, and decided to keep 
 on the river at least for a few miles further. Then 
 they would go ashore, make themselves as comfort- 
 able as possible, and wait for daylight to appear. 
 
 "If the sun comes out we can climb a tall tree and 
 get the lay of the land," said Dave. "Or, I can 
 climb it alone, since your ankle is hurt. How does it 
 feel now?" 
 
 "No worse," answered his cousin. "I think if I 
 can keep off it for a few hours it will be all right 
 again. But it was a pretty bad twist." 
 
 "Do you notice that the river seems to be growing 
 narrower?" said Dave, after a short spell of silence. 
 
 "I have been wondering if we are not on some 
 
THE FLIGHT TO THE RIVER 45 
 
 branch," was the reply. "Anyway, it is flowing 
 much swifter than before." 
 
 "Maybe we had better turn into shore now." 
 
 "I think so myself. We don't want to run into 
 anything." 
 
 They started to turn the canoe around. To their 
 surprise the water began to boil and foam on all sides 
 of them. Then came a grating sound from the 
 bottom. 
 
 "We just ran over a rock !" cried Dave. "Henry, 
 this is getting dangerous !" 
 
 "I think so myself, Dave. Come, we will make 
 for the shore over yonder. Perhaps Oh !" 
 
 Henry's remarks came to a sudden ending, as the 
 canoe swept swiftly under the low-hanging branch of 
 a big tree. The young hunter was standing up at 
 the time, and he was carried overboard in a flash, 
 paddle in hand. Then the canoe struck a rock, slid 
 up along some tree-roots, and began to fill with 
 water ! 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 BACK TO THE FORT 
 
 Henry was so taken by surprise that it was not 
 until he found himself over his head in the river 
 he realized what had occurred. His shoulder 
 struck a rock, but the blow was of small moment. 
 He came up, spluttering and still holding the 
 paddle. 
 
 "Whe — where are you, Dave ?" was his first ques- 
 tion, as he dashed the water from his eyes. 
 
 There was no answer, and in the mist and dark- 
 ness he could see nothing. He struck out, and soon 
 reached a spot where he could stand on the rocky 
 bottom of the watercourse. He was under some 
 tree-limbs, and knew that the shore must be close at 
 hand. 
 
 "I say, Dave!" he called again. "Dave!" 
 
 "Henry !" was the feeble reply. 
 
 The voice was sufficient for Henry to locate the 
 canoe, and he hastened toward it. Feeling around 
 in the utter darkness he caught hold of his cousin's 
 knee and then his arm. 
 
 4 6 
 
BACK TO THE FORT 47 
 
 "What's the matter ? Are you hurt ?" 
 
 "I — I don't know,'' faltered Dave. "A tree-limb 
 struck me on the head." He put up his hand. 
 "Phew! I've got a lump on my forehead like a 
 walnut !" 
 
 Henry could feel that the canoe was filling with 
 water, and so lifted up the guns and the powder and 
 bullet horns. Dave was slowly recovering from the 
 shock received. Both stood up and leaned against 
 a thick limb above the canoe. 
 
 "Let us follow the limb to shore," said Henry, 
 and this was done, they taking everything that had 
 been in the canoe with them. 
 
 Among the jagged rocks the water swirled 
 swiftly, and they had to pick their way with care. 
 Close to the tree-trunk was a deep hole, and they 
 had to circle this. At last they stood on the shore, 
 where the rocks were backed up by brushwood and 
 tall timber. 
 
 "I fancy the canoe is done for," announced Dave. 
 "It went up on those rocks good and hard." 
 
 "Well, let us be thankful that it carried us as far 
 as it did," answered Henry, trying to be cheerful. 
 "We must be four or five miles from that Indian 
 camp." 
 
 "You are wet to the skin, Henry. You'll have to 
 dry your clothes or you'll take cold." 
 
48 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I'll wring them out and make that do, Dave. 
 We won't dare to light a campfire." 
 
 "Not if we can find a hollow ? The mist will hide 
 a good deal, remember." 
 
 "Well, we'll see about it." 
 
 Henry did not relish remaining in the wet and 
 darkness any more than did his cousin, and both 
 searched around until they found a spot with high 
 rocks on two sides and a thick group of trees op- 
 posite. To get some dry wood was the next task, and 
 then came the problem of starting the blaze. But 
 this was solved by Henry, who poured some loose 
 powder on a dry rock, mixed it with some tinder, 
 and then hammered the rock with the ramrod of his 
 gun. Soon came a flash and a hiss, and the tinder 
 glowed, and presently the fire flared up pleasantly 
 enough. Around it they piled some flat stones, 
 shutting in the light as much as possible. 
 
 "Do you think we ought to pull in the canoe?" 
 asked Dave. "The Indians may come along and 
 see it." 
 
 "It wouldn't be a bad plan," answered Henry. 
 
 They soon had the battered craft out of the river. 
 They turned it upside down, resting each end on a 
 rock, and thus it formed for them something of a 
 shelter in front of the fire. 
 
 With the brightness of the blaze, matters appeared 
 
BACK TO THE FORT 49 
 
 to take on a more cheerful turn. Henry took off 
 the most of his garments and dried them, and Dave 
 did likewise, and the former also cared for his hurt 
 ankle. The youths calculated that it was about mid- 
 night. They did not know where they were, nor 
 what new dangers might confront them. Each 
 looked to his firearm, to see that it could be used if 
 necessary, and one kept the hunting knife and the 
 other the tomahawk in readiness. 
 
 "I think we had better take turns watching," said 
 Henry. "There is no use in both keeping awake." 
 
 He took the first vigil, allowing Dave to sleep 
 until about three o'clock. Then he turned in for a 
 solid sleep lasting several hours. 
 
 In the morning the mist and the rain cleared away. 
 The day, however, was still gloomy, and although 
 Dave climbed one of the tall trees at hand, he could 
 see little or nothing by which to locate himself. 
 
 "I think the fort is in that direction," he said, 
 pointing with his hand. "But I am by no means 
 sure." 
 
 "Well, we may as well journey in that direction 
 as any other," was Henry's reply. "I think you are 
 right. The canoe is not fit for use, so we cannot go 
 down the river, and may as well throw the paddles 
 away or burn them up." 
 
 At early dawn Dave had discovered a squirrel on 
 
50 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 a branch near by, and laid the game low with an 
 arrow. This had made him do a little hunting with 
 the bow, and he had ended by obtaining four squir- 
 rels. These, broiled over the fire, gave them a good 
 breakfast, washed down as it was by a drink from 
 the river. They looked up the watercourse as far 
 as they could, but saw no signs of the Indians. 
 
 They were soon on the tramp. Knowing that 
 Henry's ankle must still pain him, Dave let his cousin 
 set the pace. This was somewhat slow for the 
 frontier youths, but would have proved stiff walk- 
 ing for anybody not used to it. The route was 
 comparatively easy to travel, and by high noon, 
 when they sat down to rest, they calculated that 
 they had covered at least eight miles. 
 
 "The sun is breaking through the clouds, and I 
 am going to take another look around," said Dave, 
 and this time Henry climbed a tree with him. A 
 grand panorama of woods, hills, and waters was 
 spread around them, and at a distance they saw 
 where Fort Pitt was located, at the junction of the 
 Allegheny and Monongahela rivers. 
 
 "There is the fort!" cried Dave, light-heartedly. 
 "Henry we are almost on the direct road !" 
 
 "And not an Indian in sight, so far as I can see," 
 was the answer, as Henry's trained eye moved 
 slowly from one direction to another. 
 
BACK TO THE FORT 5 1 
 
 "Let us go on again. I want to get back before 
 night — if it can be done. But, of course, you'll have 
 to set the pace," added Dave, considerately. 
 
 As they journeyed along they talked over the 
 situation, and wondered if the Indians had taken 
 possession of the dead bear and her cubs. 
 
 "I don't think they took the whole bear," said 
 Henry. "Maybe they took the hide and the choicest 
 of the meat." 
 
 "I didn't dare to watch them too closely, for fear 
 of being caught," said Dave. 
 
 They took an almost direct course for the fort, 
 and by the middle of the afternoon calculated that 
 they were but two or three miles away. Nothing 
 had come to alarm them outside of the appearance 
 of a rattlesnake that glided from under a rock over 
 which they were stepping. They lost no time in 
 giving the reptile a wide berth, and on his part the 
 rattlesnake did not attempt to molest them. 
 
 "I think we'll reach Fort Pitt by sundown," said 
 Henry. "We might do it in less time, but there is 
 no use in hurrying." 
 
 "Does the ankle still hurt?" 
 
 "It doesn't hurt very much, but it feels weak. I 
 think I'll rest all day to-morrow." 
 
 "We'll have earned a rest, I'm thinking," returned 
 Dave, with a grim smile. "Won't they open their 
 
52 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 eyes at the fort when they hear the story we have 
 to tell !" 
 
 Another mile was covered, and they had to pass 
 around a hollow filled with thick brushwood. Henry 
 was in advance, when he came to a sudden halt. 
 
 "Here is our chance, Dave!" he whispered. "We 
 won't have to go back empty-handed." 
 
 Dave pressed to the front and took a look ahead. 
 There, among the bushes, was a beautiful doe with a 
 fair-sized fawn beside her. 
 
 "Good !" whispered Dave, raising his rifle. "The 
 best kind of deer meat. Which will you take, 
 Henry?" 
 
 "I'll take the doe." 
 
 "All right, I'll take the fawn. It's a pity to kill 
 such a beautiful creature, but it can't be helped. 
 We need the meat." 
 
 Both moved a little closer, to a spot where they 
 could get a better chance at the doe and her fawn. 
 Just as they raised their rifles the mother deer looked 
 up and gave a sniff. The fawn followed, and both 
 started to bound away. 
 
 Bang! bang! Both guns rang out in quick 
 succession. The fawn fell in a heap in the bushes 
 and lay still. The doe struggled on, mortally 
 wounded in the breast. But hardly had she gone 
 ten feet, with Henry and Dave after her, than an old 
 
BACK TO THE FORT 53 
 
 frontiersman stepped from behind a tree, ran up, 
 and plunged a hunting knife into her throat, bring- 
 ing her career to an end. 
 
 "Sam Barringford !" cried Dave and Henry in a 
 breath. 
 
 "Right ye air, boys," answered the old frontiers- 
 man. "I wasn't quite quick enough fer ye, 
 was I? Thought as how thet meat war mine fer 
 sartin." 
 
 "Were you after the doe and her fawn?" asked 
 Henry. 
 
 "Yes — been a-followin' 'em fer the last hour. 
 They war in sight o' the fort, an' I thought I'd add 
 to the provender by bringin' 'em low." 
 
 "Well, you've had your hand in the killing," said 
 Dave. He examined the fawn. "There's meat fit 
 for the table of a king." 
 
 "Yes, and I wish mother had it," added Henry. 
 
 Sam Barringford was alone and carried only his 
 long rifle, his horn of powder and ball, and his hunt- 
 ing knife. As of old he was attired in a hunting 
 shirt, with leggings, and wore his coonskin cap, 
 with the tail trailing behind. He was surprised to 
 learn that they had no game with them, but still 
 more surprised when he heard the tale they had to 
 tell. 
 
 "We'll want to git back to the fort without delay," 
 
54 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 he said. "The commandant there must know about 
 this." 
 
 The doe was hung on a long pole, and Dave and 
 Henry carried the game between them. The fawn 
 Sam Barringford slung across the back of his neck, 
 with the front hoofs in one hand and the rear hoofs 
 in the other. Thus they walked as swiftly as possi- 
 ble to the fort, where their coming was noted from 
 a distance. 
 
 "Not so bad," said James Morris, as he eyed the 
 game. "But you have made a long stay of it." 
 
 "Yes, and we might have had a bear, two cubs, 
 and a buffalo had it not been for the Indians," re- 
 plied Dave. 
 
 "The Indians !" burst out his parent. "Do you 
 mean to say you ran into the Indians again?" 
 
 "We certainly did, — and I have been a prisoner, 
 too," said Henry. "I might be a prisoner yet if it 
 hadn't been for Dave." 
 
 "Well, this is certainly news," said Rodney. "I 
 thought all the Indians had cleared out." 
 
 "I said all along they'd be skulkin' around," said 
 Sam Barringford. "Don't ye remember as how I 
 warned ye to keep your eyes peeled ? Some o' them 
 redskins ain't a goin' to git out until they actually 
 have to, mark me!" 
 
 The news that Dave and Henry had encountered 
 
BACK TO THE FORT 55 
 
 the Indians quickly spread, and Captain Ecuyer, who 
 was in charge of the stronghold, sent for them, that 
 he might learn the details. They knew the captain 
 well, and readily told him all. 
 
 "I shall have to look into this," said the com- 
 mandant of Fort Pitt. "The Indians must be 
 cleared out of this district entirely." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE START FOR THE EAST 
 
 The news that the Indians were still in that vicin- 
 ity alarmed James Morris exceedingly, and he shook 
 his head sadly when he remembered that it had been 
 arranged for Rodney to start for the east with little 
 Nell and the twins on the following Monday. 
 
 "I hardly think it will be safe," said he, to Rodney. 
 "I should not wish anything to happen to you and 
 the others." 
 
 "There are six men to go along, besides Sam 
 Barringford," answered the young soldier who had 
 fought so bravely at the battle of Bushy Run. 
 "There can be only small bodies of Indians around, 
 and they will not dare to attack us if we keep a 
 good watch." 
 
 "The Indians may unite for an attack," said Mr. 
 Morris. "Better wait until we are certain the way 
 is clear." And so the start for the Morris home- 
 stead was delayed. 
 
 Dave and Henry had returned to Fort Pitt on 
 Friday night, and Saturday morning Captain 
 
 56 
 
THE START FOR THE EAST 57 
 
 Ecuyer sent out a body of fifty regulars and six 
 frontiersmen, to scour the vicinity for Indians. 
 With the number went Sam Barringford and an- 
 other old hunter, Tony Jadvvin, both of whom knew 
 that territory well. Jadwin had been Mr. Morris's 
 right-hand man at the trading post, and was counted 
 an Indian trailer of extraordinary ability. 
 
 "I'd like to go with them myself," said Dave, but 
 his father demurred. Henry was glad enough to 
 give his ankle a rest, and Rodney thought he had 
 better reserve his strength for the trip eastward. 
 
 "Oh, Henry, please don't go out among the 
 Indians again!" cried little Nell, to her brother. 
 "And don't you go either, Cousin Dave," she added. 
 
 "We are not going just yet," said Henry, giving 
 his sister a kiss. 
 
 "Oh, I hate the Indians so!" went on the miss, 
 with a stamp of her foot. 
 
 "Not all Indians," replied Dave, with a smile. 
 "Don't forget White Buffalo." 
 
 "Oh, he is only an Indian in looks," answered 
 Nell. "He has a white man's heart — Uncle Sam 
 told me so." 
 
 "By the way, where is White Buffalo?" asked 
 Henry. 
 
 "He has gone to visit his tribe," answered Rod- 
 ney. "He thinks the different factions will unite 
 
58 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 now and sue for peace. Sir William Johnson is 
 going to give them all a chance to bury the hatchet, 
 and White Buffalo thinks it is a grand chance for 
 his tribe to unite once more and live in peace." 
 
 What Rodney said about Sir William Johnson 
 was true. The Indian Superintendent had sent 
 agents to all of the chiefs of the Six Nations, and 
 also to the chiefs of the tribes along the St. Lawrence 
 and in Canada. The Indians were to meet the 
 Superintendent at Johnson Hall in central New 
 York State. Many came to the conference, which 
 began early in September and was productive of 
 some good, although not a great deal. The Iroquois 
 were induced to send messages to other tribes in 
 the west, urging them to bury the hatchet, and they 
 also sent word to the Delawares telling them not to 
 listen to the western tribes that desired to plunge 
 them into further bloodshed. The Senecas would 
 not come to the conference, and they continued to 
 kill and plunder whenever the opportunity presented 
 itself, and the tribes from along the Mississippi did 
 likewise. White Buffalo's tribe of Delawares con- 
 tinued to remain split, much to the old chief's sor- 
 row, one part aiding the English, and another part 
 aiding the Indians, and the French who still held 
 certain trading posts and refused to give them 
 up. 
 
THE START FOR THE EAST 59 
 
 The regulars and frontiersmen to sally forth from 
 Fort Pitt after the enemy, were gone four days. 
 When they returned they announced that practically 
 all the red men had departed either for the north or 
 the west. They had encountered one band of fleeing 
 men under Moon Eye and had slain two of the 
 Indians. One regular had been shot in the arm, 
 a wound that was painful but not serious. They 
 had come upon the torn carcass of the bear, which 
 the wolves had used for a feast after the Indians had 
 cut away the hide and some choice steaks, and had 
 found the torn body of one cub. Sam Barringford 
 had also gotten a long-distance shot at a buffalo, 
 probably the one followed by Dave, but the animal 
 had gotten away from him. 
 
 "I think we can make the trip eastward in safety 
 now," said Rodney, to his uncle. "Evidently the 
 redskins are pretty badly scared. It may be safer 
 to make it now than later on. Besides, we don't 
 want to wait till winter is on us." 
 
 The matter was talked over at great length, and 
 finally it was decided that the start for the east 
 should be made at the end of a week. Rodney and 
 Barringford were to go, taking with them Nell and 
 the twins. A settler named Dobson was also going, 
 along with his wife, who promised to keep an eye on 
 Nell, Tom, and Artie. The escort was to be com- 
 
60 TRAIT, AND TRADING POST 
 
 posed of five frontiersmen, and ten regular soldiers 
 who had received their discharge from the service, 
 and who were anxious to get back to Annapolis, 
 where they belonged. The party were to take with 
 them six pack-horses, all belonging to Mr. Morris. 
 
 This plan of departing for the east put Rodney in 
 better spirits, for he wanted to see home again, 
 not being used to being away, as were Dave and 
 Henry. Everything was gotten in readiness and 
 long letters were written by those left at the fort. 
 In his letter to his brother, James Morris stated that 
 he intended to go back to his trading post on the 
 Ohio as soon as it seemed fairly safe to do so. and 
 that, as agreed upon before, he would take Dave and 
 Henry with him. 
 
 "Good-bye, Rodney," said Dave, when it came 
 time to part. "Take good care of yourself, and 
 good care of Nell and the twins." 
 
 "And you take care of yourself." answered the 
 former cripple. "Don't start for the trading post 
 until it is perfectly safe." 
 
 When the actual parting came Nell's eyes were 
 full of tears and she kissed her brother Henry, Uncle 
 James, and Cousin Dave over and over again. Even 
 the twins hated to leave the fort, where they had 
 been general favorites since their arrival. 
 
 "Tom wants to stay by the soldiers," said one. 
 
THE START FOR THE EAST 6 1 
 
 "Artie wants to stay by the soldiers, too, and by 
 Dave !" cried the other. 
 
 They were sturdy little chaps, the picture of 
 health, and Dave and Henry could not resist giving 
 each a toss and a hug. 
 
 When the little expedition started Dave, Henry, 
 and Mr. Morris accompanied them for several miles 
 of the journey. Then all reached the top of a hill, 
 and here those to remain at the fort halted. The 
 others went on and presently a bend in the road hid 
 them from view. 
 
 "I pray to heaven that they have a safe journey 
 home," said James Morris, with much feeling. 
 
 As my old readers know, there were two roads 
 running between Fort Pitt and the east — one the old 
 trail used by General Braddock on his disastrous 
 campaign and the other used by General Forbes on 
 his march to victory. The Braddock road was now 
 but little used, and Rodney and his friends took to 
 the other, as being perhaps safer and easier. 
 
 The advance was in regular order, half of the 
 frontiersmen and regulars going ahead and the 
 others keeping to the rear. In the center came the 
 pack-horses, with Rodney and Dobson in charge. 
 With Mrs. Dobson were Nell and the twins, who 
 walked or rode, as suited them. 
 
 In these days of fast trains, trolley cars, and auto- 
 
62 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 mobiles it is difficult to imagine what such a journey 
 as this before the colonists meant. Instead of cover- 
 ing thirty to sixty miles an hour they were content 
 to cover ten to twenty miles between sunrise and 
 sunset. The road lay over the hills and through the 
 mountains, with mighty forests on all sides, where 
 the ring of the woodsman's axe had scarcely been 
 heard. Great rivers were to be crossed, and if the 
 bridge was down or out of repair they had to find 
 another place to cross or else stop to mend the struc- 
 ture. Where the road lay along a mountain side 
 the rain would sometimes cover it with mud and 
 stones to a depth of a foot or more, making the 
 advance extra laborious. Here and there the wind 
 had blown a tree down over their path, and then they 
 would have to either work their way around it, or 
 else cut through or over it. In some spots the tree- 
 branches were so low the horses could scarcely get 
 under them, and here all the travelers would have 
 to advance on foot, and see to it that none of the 
 packs were lost. Once a pack caught on a sharp 
 bough and tore open, scattering the contents in all 
 directions. 
 
 "Won't catch me coming out here again," 
 grumbled Asa Dobson. "Folks out Baltimore way 
 said I could make my fortune in them western coun- 
 tries, but I don't see it. Them Injuns nearly killed 
 
THE START FOR THE EAST 63 
 
 me and my wife twict, and they stole my hoss, and 
 I'm going to stay in the east after this, and work for 
 my old master, the Earl of Chester. The Injuns 
 can have them western countries for all o' me !" 
 
 "Don't you want to be your own master and own 
 your own plantation?" asked Rodney. 
 
 "No, not if I've got to fight Injuns to keep it," 
 answered Dobson. He was used to life around the 
 larger towns, and the loneliness of the wilderness 
 struck him with a peculiar terror. 
 
 However the journey had its bright spots. The 
 men in advance always secured plenty of game — 
 deer, rabbits, squirrels, wild turkeys, and partridges 
 — and the children often stopped to pick the wild 
 flowers which still bloomed along the roadside. At 
 nightfall they would go into camp beside some brook 
 or spring of pure mountain water, and there would 
 gather around a generous campfire, to eat the main 
 meal of the day and make themselves at home. Dur- 
 ing the evening hours Sam Barringford would tell 
 the children wonderful stories of hunting, or of his 
 army adventures while out with Dave and Henry, — 
 tales which they listened to with much interest. 
 
 "Tom is going to be a soldier when he grows up," 
 said one of the little boys. 
 
 "Artie is going to be a soldier too, and have a 
 beautiful uniform," put in the other promptly. They 
 
64 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 spoke thus in childish fashion, little dreaming of the 
 days to come when they would both shoulder their 
 muskets in the War for Independence. 
 
 So far they had met nobody on the road. When 
 Sunday came they spent the day in a much-needed 
 rest. Nell repeated to Rodney some Bible verses 
 and tried to teach them to the twins. 
 
 On Monday afternoon those in advance saw a 
 pack-train approaching, composed of eight horses 
 and one cart, and in charge of six frontiersmen and 
 a trader named Packerson. 
 
 "Where bound, Packerson?" asked Sam Barring- 
 ford. 
 
 "Fort Pitt," was the short reply. Packerson was 
 a rather silent man, of few words. 
 
 "Come straight through from Cumberland?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "See any Injuns?" 
 
 "Seven. Had a fight with 'em too," answered the 
 trader. Then his train came to a halt, and the 
 others at once surrounded him for particulars of the 
 encounter. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE MASSACRE OF A PACK-TRAIN 
 
 Jed Packerson's story was soon told. His party 
 had first seen the Indians while crossing a high hill 
 where a landslide had carried down many trees of 
 the forest to the valley below. As soon as dis- 
 covered the red men had run for shelter. Half an 
 hour later one of the frontiersmen had given the 
 alarm, and the next moment a shower of arrows had 
 fallen around them, hitting one man in the shoulder. 
 Then two guns had been discharged and a horse had 
 been hit in the thigh and had stampeded. The 
 whites had returned the fire of the Indians, who, 
 however, had kept under cover. At least one red 
 warrior had been wounded, and then the whole party 
 had taken themselves to parts unknown. The horse 
 to run away was still missing and Packerson had 
 decided to let him go rather than lose time on a trail 
 that appeared so dangerous. 
 
 The fight had occurred two days before, and the 
 spot where the Indians had opened fire was less than 
 sixteen miles away. This was disturbing news to 
 
 65 
 
66 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Rodney and his friends, and after Packerson had 
 continued on his way a council of war was 
 held. 
 
 "We'll have to be on our guard night an' day," 
 said Sam Barringford. "The advance guard will 
 have to spread out purty well an beat the brush 
 thoroughly. At the first sign o' danger, whistle or 
 fire a gun and then come to the center." 
 
 The old frontiersman had been selected as a 
 leader, and the others agreed to follow his advice. 
 The bordermen and the regulars spread out into a 
 regular circle around the pack-horses and those with 
 the steeds, and Mrs. Dobson and the children were 
 cautioned not to wander off by the roadside under 
 any circumstances. 
 
 That evening the party encamped by the side of a 
 stream at a point where there was a good-sized open- 
 ing in the forest. Guards were stationed on both 
 sides of the watercourse, every man being on duty 
 four hours during the darkness. The horses were 
 tethered in a circle and in the center a small tent was 
 pitched, in which Mrs. Dobson, Nell, and the twins 
 might rest. 
 
 Sam Barringford remained on guard duty from 
 eight o'clock to midnight, his post being to the north 
 of the camp proper, where the stream made a turn 
 between some rocks and tall trees. The old fron- 
 
THE MASSACRE OF A PACK-TRAIN 67 
 
 tiersman was tired out by his day's tramp, but did 
 not grumble over being compelled to keep awake. 
 
 "It's got to be done, an' thet's all there are to it," 
 he said to Rodney. "Reckon we kin sleep a week 
 when we git to hum." 
 
 "I shan't mind staying awake, when my turn 
 comes," answered Rodney. "But I do hope the 
 Indians won't appear. I shouldn't care so much if 
 we were alone, but with Mrs. Dobson, Nell, and the 
 twins it is different." 
 
 The night was a fairly clear one, with countless 
 stars showing between the drifting clouds. There 
 was no breeze worth mentioning and the stillness, 
 away from the somewhat restless horses, was 
 intense. 
 
 Barringford walked slowly up and down the 
 watercourse, occasionally mounting one of the rocks 
 to get a better look at the surroundings. His 
 trained eyes took in a good portion of territory, and 
 the least movement among the trees would have at- 
 tracted his attention. He was sleepy, but he did not 
 allow his eyes to close for an instant. 
 
 He had just climbed down from the rocks for at 
 least the tenth time, when he heard a rustle in some 
 bushes at a distance. He listened with strained ears, 
 at the same time dropping flat upon the ground, so 
 that a possible enemy might not see him too readily. 
 
68 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 All became silent, and he waited patiently for 
 several minutes. Then came the crack of a twig, 
 as some weight pressed upon it. A moment more 
 and a figure ran through the bushes, not towards the 
 camp but from it. 
 
 "Help!" came in a woman's voice. "Help!" 
 
 "Mrs. Dobson, by ginger!" ejaculated the old 
 frontiersman. "What's the matter with her?" 
 
 The fleeing woman was some distance away, and 
 he made after her with all possible speed. She 
 crashed through the bushes and he came after 
 her. 
 
 "Mrs. Dobson !" he called. "What is the matter? 
 Stop!" 
 
 His cries, and those of the frantic woman, aroused 
 the entire camp, and Dobson himself came rushing 
 toward Barringford, followed by Rodney. 
 
 The old frontiersman soon gained the immediate 
 rear of the woman. As he did so, he heard a rush 
 through the thickets ahead and caught a glimpse of 
 an Indian. Then he saw another red warrior rise 
 up from behind a rock, tomahawk in hand. This 
 fellow made a leap for Mrs. Dobson, but before he 
 could use his weapon, Barringford brought his long 
 rifle into play and the Indian pitched forward, 
 fatally wounded in the breast. The other Indian 
 continued to run, and so did several others who could 
 
THE MASSACRE OF A PACK-TRAIN 69 
 
 be heard but not seen, and soon their footsteps died 
 away in the distance. 
 
 "Maria, what is it?" cried Asa Dobson, catching 
 his wife by the arm. "What is it?" And he gave 
 her a shake. Then he saw her open her eyes and 
 stare at him. "Creation! Be you asleep?" he 
 gasped. 
 
 "Asa! Oh, save me!" she screamed. "Save me 
 from the Indians! Don't let them scalp me!" 
 Then she gazed around in bewilderment. "I — I 
 thought we were at the fort and the Indians had 
 come in after us," she faltered. 
 
 "You were dreaming," said her husband. "We 
 are on the journey to Cumberland and Bal- 
 timore." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know; but — but " She stared 
 
 around her. "I — I — where is the tent, and the 
 horses?" 
 
 "You've had a nightmare, and it did us a heap o' 
 good," broke in Sam Barringford. "Your runnin' 
 around has scared off some redskins, I reckon." 
 
 By this time half a dozen were near. They gazed 
 at the red warrior whom Barringford had laid low. 
 
 "He is done for," said Rodney. "He is too far 
 gone even to question him." But even as the young 
 soldier spoke the red man raised up suddenly and 
 flung his tomahawk squarely at Barringford. The 
 
7<D TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 fling was a weak one and the weapon fell short of 
 its mark. Then the warrior sank back, gave a gasp, 
 and was dead. 
 
 "Game to the last," muttered Barringford. 
 "Don't know as I blame him. Might be I'd do like- 
 wise, ef one o' the varmin plugged me," he added 
 philosophically. 
 
 It took several minutes for Mrs. Dobson to settle 
 herself. Her husband stated that she often arose 
 in her sleep. She had been terribly worked up over 
 the red men ever since leaving Fort Pitt, and this 
 had gotten on her nerves. 
 
 The alarm kept the entire camp "on edge" until 
 daybreak. Barringford and two others made 
 several tours in the immediate vicinity, but could see 
 or hear nothing more of the enemy. 
 
 "They have either cleared out entirely, or else 
 they know how to hide," said the old frontiers- 
 man. 
 
 "Do you think it is the same party that Packerson 
 met?" questioned Rodney. 
 
 "Like as not, Rodney. We ain't seen or heard o' 
 anybody else on this trail." 
 
 They went on as before, and the following fore- 
 noon made a discovery that rilled even the stoutest 
 of them with horror. Coming to a spot where the 
 road led down to a ford over a good-sized brook 
 
THE MASSACRE OF A PACK-TRAIN J I 
 
 they beheld a man lying beside a rock, with one 
 ear gone and part of his scalp cut away. The 
 man was shot through the body and was all but 
 dead. 
 
 "Who shot you?" asked one of the frontiersman, 
 running up. 
 
 "Th — the Indians," was the low and hoarse 
 answer. "Water !" 
 
 Water was brought, but the man was almost too 
 weak to drink. One of the party recognized him as 
 Stephen Banoggin, a trader well known in those 
 days around Carlisle and Bedford. Banoggin had 
 left Bedford ten days before, with a view of estab- 
 lishing a new trading post in the vicinity of Venango 
 as soon as it seemed safe to do so. 
 
 "All dead — all killed by the Indians!" was about 
 all he could say. "Fool, fool that I was to attempt 
 it ! All dead !" And that night he expired. 
 
 His tale was almost true, although not quite so. 
 His pack-train had consisted of ten horses and nine 
 men, including three negroes who were his slaves. 
 The Indians — a mixed band under a chief called 
 Crow Feather — had ambushed the train at the ford 
 and slained or mortally wounded all but one negro 
 and a white hunter named Sturm, a German from 
 upper Pennsylvania. Sturm and the negro got 
 away together, each however wounded. They 
 
J2 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 traveled for four weeks in the forest, when Sturm 
 went crazy. At last they reached a settlement, 
 where the negro told his story. Sturm was placed 
 under medical care and regained his reason some 
 time later. 
 
 The sights presented to Rodney and the others at 
 the ford were so revolting that Mrs. Dobson, Nell, 
 and the twins were held back, that they might not 
 see what had occurred. The slain were all scalped 
 and an effort had been made to burn one at the stake. 
 The bodies of the men and the dead horses lay to- 
 gether. Four horses were missing, and on these the 
 Indians had packed such stores as they wanted, 
 scattering the other goods or burning them. 
 
 "This is enough to make one sick !" said Rodney, 
 as he turned away with a shudder. "These red- 
 skins must have been fiends!" 
 
 "They were certainly cold-blooded." answered 
 Barringford. "Poor Banoggin ! He had better 
 have stayed in the east." 
 
 "Sam, this doesn't look as if it would be safe for 
 us to go any further." 
 
 "Easily said, lad; but what are ye goin' to 
 do?" 
 
 "You mean it is as safe to go forward as to turn 
 back?" 
 
 "Don't it look thet way?" 
 
THE MASSACRE OF A PACK-TRAIN 73 
 
 "Maybe. But we are a little closer to Fort Pitt 
 than we are to Fort Cumberland." 
 
 "Thet's true too. But I don't reckon the Injuns 
 will dare to go as far east as Cumberland — not after 
 the lickin' they got at Bushy Run." 
 
 "The band that did this can't be the band that 
 tried to surround us." 
 
 "No, they are another tribe, I think." 
 
 "Then the forest must still be full of wandering 
 bands, and we are not near as safe as we thought we 
 were." 
 
 "We've got to make the best on't, Rodney. We 
 must travel as fast as we can and keep our eyes 
 peeled more'n ever before. It's the only way out, 
 so far as I kin see." 
 
 The bodies of the slain were placed in a hollow, 
 with some flat stones on top, to keep off the wolves 
 and other wild beasts. The place was marked on 
 the trees. A few of Banoggin's possessions were 
 taken along and the others left where they had 
 fallen. 
 
 "Poor fellow, he will never want anything in this 
 life again," murmured Rodney, brokenly. And 
 when the trader died they placed his body away with 
 those of his followers. Fortunately he had been a 
 bachelor, so there would be no widow or child to 
 mourn his loss. 
 
74 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Early in the morning Rodney and those with him 
 moved on again. Everybody in the party was ex- 
 ceedingly sober. All realized their great danger. 
 The fate of Stephen Banoggin and his party was 
 ever before their eyes and in their thoughts. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 UNDER THE CLIFF 
 
 "Thank fortune we have come so far without 
 injury !" 
 
 It was Rodney who uttered the words. He and 
 Sam Barringford were standing on a little rise of 
 ground, the trail in front and behind them. The 
 warm noonday sun shone down upon them, and all 
 was calm and peaceful with not an enemy of any 
 kind in sight. Close at hand Dobson and his wife 
 were preparing a meal for all hands and little Nell 
 was playing with the twins. 
 
 Two days had passed since they had left the fate- 
 ful ford, and they had covered thirty-two miles, over 
 a trail which the past rains had left in anything but 
 a good condition. They had been on guard every 
 minute, day and night, their nerves strung to top 
 tension. The early morning had taken them 
 through a spot lined upon either side with tall rocks, 
 and they had expected a shot at almost every turn — 
 but nothing had come to disturb them. 
 
 Considering the condition of the road, the horses 
 75 
 
j6 TRAIT. AND TRADING POST 
 
 had done well. Only one was injured, — from slip- 
 ping over some rocks, — but he could still carry his 
 load. Nobody was sick, although the constant 
 worry had given Mrs. Dobson a headache. 
 
 "While we are waiting for dinner, let us go ahead 
 and look at the trail," suggested Rodney; and Bar- 
 ringford agreed. Not far off was another hollow, 
 backed b}'' a cliff of rocks, overgrown with heavy 
 vines, and they were both anxious to know what was 
 beyond. 
 
 They gained the region of the cliff without dif- 
 ficulty. To save himself the trouble of climbing the 
 rough rocks, Rodney tested the vines and then com- 
 menced to pull himself up, hand over hand. 
 
 "Be careful that you don't fall !" cried the old 
 frontiersman. "These rocks at the bottom ain't no 
 easy bed to drop on, I kin tell ye thet !" 
 
 "The vines are strong enough to hold a horse," 
 answered the young soldier. 
 
 He continued to go up, until he was a good fifteen 
 feet over Barringford's head. He had still six 
 feet to go, when he heard a slight sound from 
 above. 
 
 "Must be the vines tearing away," he told himself, 
 after a pause. "Maybe they are not as strong as I 
 thought they were." 
 
 He waited and then went up an additional foot or 
 
He glanced up, saw his dire peril, and let himself drop. 
 Page 77. 
 
UNDER THE CLIFF 77 
 
 two. The vines held, and he took another grip of 
 them a little higher up. His head was now within 
 a yard of the top of the cliff, which was cov- 
 ered with the vines and a stunted growth of 
 bushes. 
 
 Suddenly, from out of the bushes, there appeared 
 the head of an Indian, bedecked in war-paint and 
 feathers. Then a long, bronzed arm stole forward, 
 holding a tomahawk. The tomahawk was raised 
 and a blow was aimed at Rodney's head. 
 
 Had the blow fallen as intended, the young sol- 
 dier's skull must have been cleft in twain. He 
 glanced up, saw his dire peril, and let himself drop. 
 An instant later a shot rang out from below, and the 
 Indian's hand quivered and the hatchet slipped down 
 among the vines and out of sight. 
 
 Rodney struck the rocks below heavily and rolled 
 over. When he sat up he found Sam Barringford 
 beside him, the smoke still rolling out of the fron- 
 tiersman's gun. 
 
 "Oh, Sam " he began, and knew not what 
 
 further to say. 
 
 "Press in clost to the wall," answered the fron- 
 tiersman, hastily, and began to reload his rifle with 
 all speed. Rodney's gun stood against the rocks, 
 where he had left it on starting to mount the 
 cliff. 
 
78 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Did you hit him, Sam ?" 
 
 "Yes, an' I reckon I broke his wrist — leas'wise, 
 he drapped the tomahawk. It was a narrer shave 
 fer you, lad." 
 
 "Indeed it was." Rodney tried to catch his 
 breath, which the sudden drop had knocked out of 
 him. "Do you suppose he is alone?" 
 
 "Ain't supposin' nuthin jest yit. Are you all 
 right?" 
 
 "I— think so." 
 
 Both pressed in close to the rocky wall, so that 
 no one standing above could see them. They lis- 
 tened, but no sound from above reached them. 
 
 "Perhaps the Indian ran away," said Rodney, 
 wiping the blood from where his left hand had been 
 scratched. 
 
 "Don't be too sure, Rodney." 
 
 "If the enemy are so close we ought to warn the 
 others." 
 
 "The rifle shot will do that. Maybe somebuddy 
 will be comin' this way soon." 
 
 They waited another five minutes, even the old 
 frontiersman not knowing exactly what to do. Then 
 they saw a frontiersman named Casbury coming for- 
 ward, slowly and cautiously. 
 
 "Look out!" shouted Barringford. "Injun on 
 the rocks !" And he pointed upward. 
 
UNDER THE CLIFF 79 
 
 Casbury understood, and promptly dove out of 
 sight behind some bushes. As he did this there was 
 a crashing through the vines, and a mass of rocks 
 and dirt came down directly in front of where Rod- 
 ney and Barringford were standing. 
 
 "Goin' to bombard us with rocks, hey?" snorted 
 the old frontiersman. "Maybe I kin play ye a trick 
 fer that. Groan, Rodney, groan," and he began to 
 groan and moan, as if in the greatest of pain. Rod- 
 ney did the same, keeping it up several minutes. 
 Then both began to breathe heavily, as though 
 totally exhausted. 
 
 Several minutes more passed and Rodney and 
 Barringford breathed softer and softer. Thrown 
 off their guard, and thinking the whites dead or mor- 
 tally hurt, three Indians leaned over the edge of the 
 cliff to get a view of the situation. 
 
 The young soldier and the old frontiersman were 
 on the alert, and as soon as the warriors appeared 
 they blazed away. Two drew back, one with a 
 shot through the side of the neck. The third pitched 
 forward with a yell, struck the rocks head first, and 
 lay dead where he had landed. 
 
 "There, I reckon thet will teach 'em a lesson," 
 cried Sam Barringford, as he and Rodney again 
 loaded up. 
 
 A shot was now fired by Casbury, and another 
 
80 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Indian was hit in the shoulder. Then Casbury saw 
 four Indians run from the front of the cliff and dis- 
 appear in the bushes far back. 
 
 "Come on, if you want to!" cried Casbury, and 
 leaving the shelter of the cliff Rodney and Barring- 
 ford made for the camp with all haste. Here they 
 found all the others on guard. The midday meal 
 was forgotten, and the men stood ready to shoot the 
 moment a red warrior showed himself. 
 
 "This is the worst possible place to be caught in," 
 said Rodney. "The Indians can get behind yonder 
 trees and pick us off at will — if they have any fire- 
 arms." 
 
 "I saw nothing but bows and arrows," said Cas- 
 bury. "Still, they may have guns." 
 
 The situation was talked over while they waited 
 for the Indians to reappear. Some brushwood had 
 been gathered for the fire, and Mrs. Dobson and the 
 children were placed behind this and behind some of 
 the horses. 
 
 "I'm going over into the woods," said Barring- 
 ford, to the others. "If I see anything wrong, I'll 
 screech like an owl." 
 
 "Do you want me to go along ?" asked Rodney. 
 
 "No, lad, I want you to stay here, by Nell an' the 
 twins." 
 
 Barringford slipped to the rear, crawled through 
 
UNDER THE CLIFF 8l 
 
 the grass, and thus reached a few low bushes, from 
 which he made his way into the forest. 
 
 Two hours went by slowly. Not an Indian 
 showed himself, nor did any signal come from Bar- 
 ringford. The men remained on the alert, and when 
 a rabbit crossed the trail two drew a bead on the 
 animal like a flash. 
 
 "I trust Sam hasn't gotten into trouble," said 
 Rodney, at last. 
 
 "If he has, he'll have to git out o' it," answered 
 one of the others, with a shrug of his shoulders. 
 
 Presently one of the regulars saw a form wrig- 
 gling through the grass. He was on the point of 
 firing when he recognized the old frontiers- 
 man. Barringford came in a good deal out of 
 breath. 
 
 "We've got to move, an' move quick, too!" he 
 announced. "There's a crowd o' thirty Injuns over 
 thar," — he pointed with his hand. "They are goin' 
 to attack us as soon as the sun goes down." 
 
 "But where shall we move to?" questioned 
 Rodney. 
 
 "I war thinkin' o' thet cave ye spoke about, Hemp- 
 ser," went on Barringford, turning to one of the 
 other old hunters. "You said it war nigh 
 here." 
 
 "It's half a mile beyond the cliff," was Hempser's 
 
82 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 answer. "I don't know the way very good, but I 
 think I can find it." 
 
 "Then thet is where we'll go, an' to onct," de- 
 cided Sam Barringford. 
 
 Not a minute was lost in breaking camp, and in a 
 close body the pack-train set out, past the cliff and 
 then through a valley of heavy grass and bushes. 
 The men carried their guns ready for use, and 
 screened Mrs. Dobson and the children as much as 
 possible. 
 
 "Oh dear! I'd rather be dead than be so wor- 
 ried," sighed the woman. 'T am that nervous I am 
 ready to drop !" 
 
 At the end of the short valley was another rise of 
 rocks, among which was located the cave. They 
 had just gained the first of the rocks when a 
 hideous war-whoop sounded out on the afternoon 
 air. 
 
 "They have discovered us !" cried Rodney, and he 
 was right. At the far end of the valley appeared 
 fully a score of Indians, a few on horseback and the 
 others on foot. 
 
 The Indians had been surprised, thinking the 
 whites were still on the trail. But they soon re- 
 covered, and came riding and running towards our 
 friends, yelling at the top of their lungs and flourish- 
 ing their tomahawks. A moment later they sent a 
 
UNDER THE CLIFF 83 
 
 volley of arrows and several rifle shots, for some 
 carried one kind of weapon and some the 
 other. 
 
 "Are you hurt?" asked Barringford of Rodney, 
 as he saw the young soldier stagger. 
 
 "No, an arrow hit me in the coat-sleeve, that's all 
 — it didn't get through my shirt though." 
 
 One of the regulars had been struck by a bullet in 
 the shoulder, and his friends had to help him along. 
 Then the Indians sent forth more arrows, one of 
 which tore through little Nell's dress. 
 
 "Oh !" cried the little miss, in great terror. 
 
 "Give 'em a dose o' their own medicine!" ordered 
 Barringford. "Make the shots tell!" And then 
 everybody fired at the advancing foe, and three of 
 the red warriors pitched into the grass, while two 
 others stopped running and then limped to the rear, 
 badly wounded. 
 
 Hempser was looking around anxiously for the 
 cave. At first he could not locate it, but, just as the 
 Indians advanced again, he discovered a hole and 
 rushed towards it. 
 
 "Here you are!" he shouted. "This way! Once 
 in the cave, I think we can hold 'em at bay !" 
 
 "Into the cave !" cried Barringford. "Mrs. Dob- 
 son and the children first. Hempser, is there a back 
 opening?" 
 
84 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 'Yes, but not a very big one. We can close it up 
 with loose rocks." 
 
 "Then you run back and pile up the rocks. The 
 others remain at this opening, to keep the Indians at 
 a distance." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 BARRINGFORD AS A SCOUT 
 
 The volley poured into the Indians by the whites 
 made the red warriors pause for the time being. 
 They were close to a clump of bushes and trees 
 growing near the center of the glade, and they got 
 behind this shelter with alacrity. 
 
 In the cave all was confusion. It was an opening 
 ten to fifteen feet in height and equally broad at the 
 mouth. It ran back a distance of over two hundred 
 feet, where it ended in a split among the rocks, com- 
 ing out at a point where there was a thick patch of 
 nettle bushes. 
 
 The horses had been brought into the cave and 
 were led to the rear. Here Hempser worked like 
 a Trojan, with one of the regulars helping him. 
 Loose stones were to be had in plenty, and they 
 blocked up the rear opening completely. 
 
 "They'll have their hands full, getting in this 
 way," said the regular. "The nettles will keep them 
 back if nothing else will." 
 
 "Right you are," answered Hempser. "Injuns 
 85 
 
86 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 don't like to git scratched any more than anybody 
 else." 
 
 At the front of the cavern Sam Barringford took 
 command. A glance showed him how the land lay, 
 and he at once ordered some of the men to pile up 
 the loose stones to a height of several feet. This 
 formed a barricade, behind which the frontiersmen 
 and regulars could lie with but little danger of the 
 enemy picking them off. 
 
 "This is a situation we didn't bargain for," 
 said Rodney, after the construction of the bar- 
 ricade had come to an end. "I must say I don't 
 like it." 
 
 "Well, lad, it's better than being surrounded in 
 the open," answered Barringford, with an effort to 
 look on the bright side of the affair. 
 
 "I don't think they'll attack us now," went on the 
 young soldier. "But they may do it to-night." 
 
 "We'll have to keep on guard, and shoot the first 
 man who shows himself," put in Casbury. 
 
 "Maybe they'll try to starve us out," came from 
 another of the frontiersman. 
 
 "We've got rations enough for a week or more, on 
 a pinch," said Rodney. "We've got our regular 
 things and also that "deer Barton shot early this 
 morning, and some rabbits." 
 
 "How about water?" asked another. 
 
BARRINGFORD AS A SCOUT 87 
 
 "We'll have to see about that," said Sam Barring- 
 ford. 
 
 Satisfied that the Indians did not contemplate an 
 immediate attack, the old frontiersman, accompanied 
 by Rodney, made a tour of the cave, lighting a torch 
 for that purpose. In one corner the rocks were 
 found to be very damp, and when some were pulled 
 up a little water trickled forth. 
 
 "Thar's a spring thar," said Barringford, with 
 satisfaction. "We kin do a bit o' diggin' an' then 
 have all the water we wish." A little later two of 
 the regulars set to work, with pike-poles and shovels, 
 and soon had a hollow made into which the water 
 flowed to a depth of several inches. The water was 
 brought up in a dipper, and proved to be both clear 
 and wholesome. 
 
 As the time slipped by the whole party became 
 more composed, and Nell and the twins clamored for 
 their delayed dinner. A meal was prepared in the 
 cave, which the men ate while on the watch. 
 
 "Oh, Rodney, will the bad Indians catch us in 
 here?" asked Nell, as she came up to her elder 
 brother. 
 
 "I think not, Nell," he answered, hopefully. 
 
 "I wish I was home." 
 
 "So do I, Nell — wish it more for your sake than 
 for my own." 
 
88 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Tom wants to go out and fight the bad Indians," 
 said one of the twins. He had picked up a rifle rest- 
 ing against the wall and was trying to shoulder the 
 long weapon. 
 
 "Here, you give me that gun !" cried Rodney, 
 reaching for it. "Tom, you mustn't play with the 
 guns. One of 'em might go off and hurt you." 
 
 "Tom ain't 'fraid of no gun," said the little boy. 
 "Want to shoot the Indians." 
 
 "You keep quiet and stay with Mrs. Dobson or 
 Nell." 
 
 "How long will we have to stay here, Rodney?" 
 asked his little sister. 
 
 "I can't answer that question, Nell. It depends 
 on the Indians. Perhaps they'll get tired of watch- 
 ing us and go away." 
 
 It was a hard matter to keep the twins quiet, but 
 presently both grew tired of wandering around the 
 cave, and went to sleep on a pair of blankets spread 
 out for them. Mrs. Dobson sat on one of the packs 
 with Nell beside her and her husband not far off. 
 
 "Oh, Asa, how foolish we were to come out to 
 this western country!" sighed the woman, for at 
 least the fiftieth time. "We should have stayed at 
 home and been content with what we had !" 
 
 "Ain't no uset to cry over spilt milk," grumbled 
 her husband. 
 
BARRINGFORD AS A SCOUT 89 
 
 "I think the Indians will come to-night and scalp 
 all of us !" 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Dobson, you don't mean that !" gasped 
 little Nell. 
 
 "Don't scare the little girl, Mrs. Dobson," put in 
 Casbury, who chanced to be near. "It won't help 
 matters to git anybuddy worked up." 
 
 At last the sun sank in the west and it began to 
 grow dark at the mouth of the cave. Two men 
 were stationed at the spot where the rear opening 
 had been, and all the others gathered at the 
 front. Then Sam Barringford called Rodney to 
 him. 
 
 "I'm a-goin' out on a scoutin' tour," said the old 
 frontiersman. "I'm a-goin' to leave you an' Cas- 
 bury in charge until I git back. Don't shoot me, but 
 don't let none o' them Injuns git near, nuther." 
 
 "Don't you want me to go with you, Sam?" 
 
 "No, it will be hard enough fer one to git around, 
 let alone two. Ef ye ain't sure it's me comin' back, 
 hoot like an owl an' I'll answer like a cat-bird, un- 
 derstand?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Barringford gave the others a few directions and 
 then, stepping quickly over the rocks, snaked his 
 way along through the grass to a fringe of low 
 bushes. From the bushes he made for the rough 
 
90 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 rocks, where he paused, to consider the situation in 
 all of its details. 
 
 The old frontiersman felt that he was surrounded 
 by enemies fully as alert as himself and ready to 
 shoot him down on sight. 
 
 "An' they won't ax me if I'll like it nuther," he 
 murmured to himself. "They be jest a-hankerin' 
 arter my sculp like all possessed." 
 
 Peering cautiously around, he saw nobody, and 
 after a short wait took his way between the rocks 
 towards the spot where the rear of the cave was 
 located. Here he listened again, and this time heard 
 the low murmur of two voices. But they were those 
 of Dobson, the settler, and a regular, talking from 
 inside. 
 
 "They ought to know enough to keep quiet," 
 mused the old frontiersman, in disgust. "How can 
 they spot the enemy if they gab like thet?" 
 
 In a few minutes the voices ceased, and thinking 
 the coast clear the old frontiersman worked his way 
 among the rocks and through the bushes toward a 
 point he imagined the Indians might be holding. 
 The darkness of night had now fallen completely 
 over the forest and scarcely a sound broke the still- 
 ness. 
 
 Barringford was about to cross to another patch 
 of brushwood when the distant call of a night bird 
 
BARRINGFORD AS A SCOUT 91 
 
 arrested his attention. He was well versed in the 
 calls of all birds and that which he heard did not 
 sound exactly true to his ear. He smiled grimly to 
 himself and waited. 
 
 As he had surmised, an answering call soon fol- 
 lowed. It came from the very brushwood he had 
 been on the point of entering, and a tall Indian 
 stepped forth, as if to advance. Before Barringford 
 could retreat or draw to one side the pair were face 
 to face. 
 
 Not a word was uttered — indeed, there was no 
 time for speech. The Indian had his tomahawk in 
 his hand, and this he raised, aiming a blow at the 
 old frontiersman's skull. As old as he was getting, 
 Barringford was still nimble on his feet and dexter- 
 ously dodged to one side. As the arm of the red 
 warrior came down, he caught the red man by the 
 shoulder, and over went the pair on the soil. Then 
 the Indian tried to cry out, but Barringford's hand 
 was clapped on his mouth. 
 
 It now became a desperate but silent struggle for 
 life. From the red man's mouth, the old frontiers- 
 man's hand was shifted to his throat, which was 
 caught with a grip of steel. The Indian struggled 
 desperately, first kicking heavily and then drawing 
 up a knee against Barringford's breast. Then he 
 tried to use his tomahawk again, and hit the fron- 
 
92 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 tiersman a glancing blow on the shoulder. The 
 hatchet fell, and in a twinkling the Indian had Bar- 
 ringford by the throat, in a clutch equally firm and 
 relentless. 
 
 Like two bulldogs that have a death-grip and will 
 not let go, white man and Indian rolled over and 
 over, on the rocks and in the bushes, each doing all 
 in his power to get the better of the other. The 
 Indian was muscular, and his strength was equal if 
 not superior to that of his white adversary. But 
 Barringford had secured the first grip, and the red 
 man's breath was fast leaving him. His tongue 
 stuck out, his eyes bulged from their sockets, and 
 he could not utter even so much as a faint gurgle. 
 
 It was at this moment that an interruption came. 
 Another form glided into the midst of the bushes. 
 It was a second Indian, and a glance showed him 
 the condition of affairs. Without stopping to use 
 his tomahawk or his knife he kicked Barringford 
 heavily in the left ear. Then followed other blows, 
 and with a groan the old frontiersman stretched out 
 on the rocks unconscious. 
 
 As the hold on his throat relaxed the Indian who 
 had been in the death struggle gave a gasp and 
 stared about him. The coming of his fellow warrior 
 had undoubtedly saved his life. 
 
 "Where did that white man come from?" asked 
 
BARRINGFORD AS A SCOUT 93 
 
 the second Indian, as he gave Barringford a close 
 look. 
 
 "Cushina knows not," was the faint reply. It 
 was some time before the other could get back his 
 breath. 
 
 "Are there others about?" 
 
 At this question Cushina shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Did he come from the cave, think you?" 
 
 "Perhaps — all of the whites were driven to that 
 shelter, like so many dogs of the prairie." 
 
 "It may not be so. Others may be at hand. We 
 must be careful. Moon Eye has news of some 
 soldiers. They may be marching in this direction." 
 
 "Then Moon Eye himself is here ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The first warrior drew a long breath and then 
 brought from his girdle a keen hunting knife. He 
 felt of its edge with satisfaction. 
 
 "Mist of the Lake has come to the aid of Cushina 
 and has brought the white man to grief," said he, 
 looking at the other closely. "Does Mist of the 
 Lake claim the scalp ?" 
 
 At this query the second Indian shrugged his 
 shoulders. 
 
 "Does Cushina still wish to linger in the footsteps 
 of Laughing Eyes and make her his bride?" he 
 asked, after another pause. 
 
94 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Cushina winced at this question. Both he and 
 Mist of the Lake were in love with the same Indian 
 maiden. As Mist of the Lake had saved his life he 
 was bound, according to the laws of his tribe, to 
 give his rival a clear field in his wooing. 
 
 "Laughing Eyes is Mist of the Lake's — if she will 
 have him," he said, in a low voice. 
 
 "And the scalp of the white man belongs to 
 Cushina," was the prompt reply of the other war- 
 rior. "He can take it at his pleasure." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 IN WHICH WHITE BUFFALO APPEARS 
 
 "Something must surely have happened to Sam, 
 or he wouldn't stay away as long as this," said Rod- 
 ney to Casbury, after half the night had passed with- 
 out the old frontiersman reappearing. 
 
 "I am afraid you are right, Rodney. Maybe the 
 Injuns caught an' killed him." 
 
 "Don't you think somebody ought to go out and 
 try to hunt him up?" 
 
 "It won't be any safer for us than it was for him," 
 answered the borderman, with a grave shake of his 
 head. 
 
 Had it not been for Nell and the twins Rodney 
 might have gone on a hunt for his old friend. But 
 he felt his responsibility, and so remained in the 
 cavern. He felt that if an attack came his place 
 was beside his sister and the twins. Barringford 
 thought as much of the twins as if they were his own 
 flesh and blood, and would not forgive him did he 
 not do all he could to shield the youngsters from 
 harm. 
 
 95 
 
96 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Slowly the time wore away. Nell, the twins, and 
 Mrs. Dobson had gone to sleep, and also several of 
 the frontiersmen and regulars, who were off duty 
 for the time being. The cave was kept in total 
 darkness, so that those inside could see better what 
 was happening without. 
 
 Rodney had listened for the cry of a catbird in 
 vain, and stood leaning against a rock, peering forth 
 into the semi-darkness. He was tremendously 
 sleepy, having gotten only a short nap the night 
 before. 
 
 Presently he straightened up and listened. Was 
 he mistaken, or had he heard the croaking of 
 a frog? He had not noticed this earlier in the 
 night. 
 
 He was not mistaken; the croaking was repeated, 
 at regular intervals. He could not resist the 
 temptation to croak also, mimicking the sound as 
 best he could. At once the answer came back, and 
 the heart of the young soldier gave a bound of as- 
 tonishment and gratification. 
 
 The call was one often used by White Buffalo, 
 the old chief of the Delawares who had proved 
 such a friend to the different members of the Morris 
 family. What he could be doing in this vicinity 
 was a mystery, since it was supposed that he was 
 either at the regular village of his tribe or at the 
 
IN WHICH WHITE BUFFALO APPEARS 97 
 
 conference being held by Sir William Johnson and 
 the red men at Johnson Hall. 
 
 "Perhaps it's a ruse," thought Rodney. "I must 
 be on my guard — it won't do to be caught in a trap." 
 
 The croaking of the frog continued, moving 
 gradually closer to the mouth of the cave. Then 
 Rodney saw something wave in the air, between two 
 bushes. The object went up and down twice, then 
 crosswise three times and then around in a circle. 
 
 "White Buffalo true enough!" murmured the 
 young soldier. He called some of the others to his 
 side. "White Buffalo, a friendly Indian, is out 
 there. He wants to talk to us." 
 
 "I'll trust none of them," said one of the regulars 
 promptly. "They are all cutthroats !" 
 
 "White Buffalo has been a friend to our family 
 for years," went on the young soldier. "I can 
 vouch for him in every respect. You know him, 
 Casbury, and so do you, Malloy." 
 
 "Yes, he is square, so far as I know," answered 
 Casbury. 
 
 "He's a putty good Indian, so he is," said the 
 Irish borderman mentioned. "But not wan av 
 thim can be thrusted whin the war's goin' ag'in 'im. 
 Betther be afther bein' careful, Rodney." 
 
 "He wants to talk to us — he has something im- 
 portant to say," persisted Rodney. 
 
98 trail and trading post 
 
 "How do yez know that ?" 
 
 "He just signaled to me. He and my brother 
 Henry and cousin Dave are great friends, and White 
 Buffalo taught us some of his signals. We had bet- 
 ter let him come in and talk to us." 
 
 Those in the cave discussed the matter and at last 
 agreed to follow Rodney's advice. But they re- 
 mained on guard, to shoot White Buffalo or any 
 other Indian down, at the first sign of treachery. 
 
 The matter settled, Rodney signaled White 
 Buffalo to approach. He started to go forth, to 
 meet the friendly red man, but White Buffalo quickly 
 warned him back. In a minute the old Delaware 
 chief was in the cavern. 
 
 "White Buffalo, I am glad to see you," cried 
 Rodney, shaking hands. 
 
 "How! how!" returned the aged Indian. He 
 peered closely at Rodney in the darkness. "My 
 friend Rodney is better? He can walk well?" 
 
 "Yes, I am much better. And how are you? 
 Hello, there is blood on your face!" 
 
 "White Buffalo had a fight — down by the river — 
 with some other Indians. They had almost killed 
 his old friend Barringford." 
 
 "Sam! Is he alive?" 
 
 "Yes — White Buffalo knocked an Indian over. 
 Then he took Sam and ran through the forest. 
 
IN WHICH WHITE BUFFALO APPEARS 99 
 
 They were about to torture Sam — to make him 
 speak of this place and who was here. First one 
 Indian wanted his scalp, but Moon Eye came up and 
 stopped the bloody work." 
 
 "And you fought the Indians alone?" 
 
 "No, White Buffalo has six warriors with him — 
 they are watching down at the river. Sam could not 
 come — he is too sorely wounded. He sent White 
 Buffalo. He told White Buffalo to cry as a catbird, 
 but that is a bad signal — it would bring Moon Eye 
 and his warriors to the spot. So White Buffalo 
 used the old signal — the one he taught to Dave and 
 Henry. He thought his friend Rodney would 
 remember." 
 
 "And I did remember. But you are hurt. Let 
 me bind up the wound." 
 
 "'Tis but a scratch," answered the aged Indian. 
 The cut smarted greatly, but he would not show his 
 pain. 
 
 "See here, what do you know about the other 
 Indians around here?" asked Casbury. 
 
 "They number thirty," said White Buffalo, who 
 had learned how to count in English style. "All 
 strong, crafty, and full of the war spirit. White 
 Buffalo's small band can do but little against them." 
 
 In his own fashion the Indian then told his story 
 in detail, how he and his followers were journeying 
 
IOO TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 to a distant village, to try to bring their entire tribe 
 in harmony with each other. They had seen the 
 actions of Moon Eye and his followers while at a 
 distance and come to the conclusion that something 
 unusual was going on. They had come closer and 
 heard the other Indians discuss the subject of an 
 attack on the cave. The followers of Moon Eye 
 intended to wait until daybreak and then try to 
 smoke out those in the place. All the men were 
 to be shot down and scalped, and the woman and 
 the children were to be made captives. This much 
 White Buffalo had learned before going to the 
 rescue of Sam Barringford. What Moon Eye and 
 his men were going to do now, the old chief could 
 not tell. 
 
 "What do you think we had best do?" asked 
 Rodney, after the recital had come to an end. 
 
 "Escape from the cavern without delay," an- 
 swered the aged Indian. '"Tis the only hope. Un- 
 less that is accomplished you will surely be shot down 
 like bears coming from a smoke-out." 
 
 "How shall we go?" 
 
 "If you will trust yourselves to White Buffalo 
 he will do what he can," answered the old chief, 
 simply. 
 
 Rodney was willing, and some of the others said 
 they would follow the chief, but several of the 
 
IN WHICH WHITE BUFFALO APPEARS 101 
 
 regulars demurred and so did Malloy the frontiers- 
 man. 
 
 "I'll thrust meself to no redskin," said the Irish- 
 man, with a vigorous shake of his head. "I have no 
 desire to wake up in the marnin' wid me throat 
 cut!" 
 
 "I shall follow White Buffalo," said Rodney, 
 decidedly. "And I shall take Nell and Tom and 
 Artie with me." 
 
 "White Buffalo is a good Indian !" cried Nell, who 
 had awakened and run forward to greet the old chief, 
 whom she knew by the voice. "I know he will save 
 me," and she took his hand confidently. 
 
 At last Malloy and the regulars gave in and all 
 looked to see what White Buffalo's first move would 
 be. His plan to rescue them was as old as it was 
 simple. 
 
 "White Buffalo will go back to his braves," said 
 the aged chief. "They will make a great noise to 
 the northward, fire shots and yell. They will attack 
 one or two of Moon Eye's men. That will cause 
 Moon Eye to rush with more warriors to that point. 
 Then my friends must slip away in the darkness and 
 go down to the river — to the spot where Sam has 
 been left. I will tell how the spot can be found." 
 And he did so. 
 
 This matter arranged, White Buffalo added that 
 
102 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 he and his braves would join the whites in the morn- 
 ing- — the signal to be the croaking of frogs. Then, 
 after a few additional words to Rodney, he bowed 
 to those around him, leaped over the barricade of 
 stones, and vanished into the night. 
 
 No time was lost, after the departure of the aged 
 Indian chief, in getting ready to leave the cave. 
 Such things as could be dispensed with were left 
 behind. Two horses were brought to the front, and 
 Nell and Tom were placed on one and Mrs. Dobson 
 and Artie on another. All the men looked to their 
 firearms and their hunting knives. 
 
 "This may be our last night on earth," said one 
 regular. "At the best, we have only a fighting 
 chance." 
 
 Casbury had followed White Buffalo and was out- 
 side, on the watch. He fancied that he saw an 
 Indian at a distance, but was not sure and did not 
 fire. 
 
 A half-hour went by — an unusually long time to 
 those in the cavern, whose nerves were strung to 
 the topmost pitch. All was now in readiness for the 
 flight, but so far not a sound had broken the still- 
 ness. 
 
 "Mebbe something has miscarried," observed one 
 regular. 
 
 "White Buffalo may be dead," said another. 
 
IN WHICH WHITE BUFFALO APPEARS I03 
 
 "One of the Moon Eye crowd may have been lying 
 in wait for him." 
 
 A few minutes more passed, and even Rodney was 
 beginning to worry, when from a distance came a 
 rifle shot. Then arose a mad yelling, and more 
 shots were fired. The din increased, until the alarm 
 appeared to spread through the whole of the forest 
 to the north of the cave. White Buffalo and his 
 six trusty followers were making noise enough for a 
 band of fifty, and it must be confessed that Moon 
 Eye and his warriors were taken completely by sur- 
 prise. 
 
 '"Tis the Delawares !" was the cry. "They have 
 come to do us battle!" 
 
 "Mist of the Lake has been killed!" called out 
 another. "And Squat Foot is wounded !" 
 
 The din kept on, and for the time being the atten- 
 tion of all the Indians was taken from the cavern. 
 This was what Rodney had hoped for, and as soon as 
 he thought it safe, he ordered an advance. The men 
 rushed out of the cave and, finding the coast clear, 
 urged forward the horses, and away went the whole 
 expedition into the woods to the south of the cavern. 
 
 "There is one Injun!" cried an old frontiersman. 
 
 "Don't shoot — unless it becomes necessary !" said 
 Rodney, hastily, as the man raised his rifle. "If we 
 can get away silently, so much the better." 
 
104 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 The Indian had only his bow and arrows with him. 
 He did not stop to attack the whites, but ran into the 
 forest, — to join those moving to the north. He, 
 like the others, imagined that a large band of their 
 hated rivals, the Delawares, had appeared. 
 
 Rodney kept as close as possible to the horses on 
 which rode Mrs. Dobson and the children. On 
 the other side was Asa Dobson, in such a tremble 
 that he could scarcely walk. The settler imagined 
 that every minute might be his last. 
 
 "I'd give all my money to be back home again !" 
 he groaned. 
 
 "Money doesn't count here," said Rodney, 
 briefly. "We must use our wits, and if the worst 
 comes to the worst, fight to the last, — for the sake of 
 your wife and the children !" 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 HOME ONCE MORE 
 
 The route to the river was a rough one, over 
 jagged rocks and around stunted growths of ever- 
 greens and elderberry bushes, with here and there a 
 bramble bush or a tangle of wild grapes. Often the 
 men stumbled, and it was with difficulty that 
 the horses got through without throwing their 
 loads. 
 
 Not a word was spoken, Rodney cautioning all to 
 silence. Every eye and ear was on the alert. Who 
 knew but what they might be running into an am- 
 bush of the worst kind? 
 
 When the watercourse was gained, — a small 
 stream flowing to the southeastward, — they came to 
 a halt in a small grove of hemlocks and walnuts. 
 Not another Indian had appeared, for which all were 
 thankful. 
 
 The din to the northward was now growing less, 
 and Rodney was certain that White Buffalo and his 
 handfuls of braves were in retreat, not daring to meet 
 the superior force under Moon Eye. 
 
 105 
 
106 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 On gaining the vicinity his Indian friend had men- 
 tioned to him, Rodney lost no time in looking around 
 for Sam Barringford. 
 
 "Sam!" he called, softly. "Sam, are you here?" 
 
 "Rodney!" came in a weak voice. "Here I be — 
 an' glad ye have come !" 
 
 The old frontiersman was up in a short, wide- 
 spreading tree, where White Buffalo and another 
 friendly red man had placed him. He was weak 
 from his encounter with the enemy and glad to have 
 the young soldier and the others come to his 
 aid. 
 
 "I had what ye might call a putty clost shave," 
 said Barringford. "They got me down an' one o' 
 the rascals war a-goin' to sculp me when Moon Eye 
 cuts in an' says to let me alone — he would torture me 
 into tellin' em' some o' the white folks' secrets — 
 about the fort an' the soldiers on the march, an' 
 sech. They war a-goin' to burn me at a stake — jest 
 as them Injuns war goin' to burn me when I war on 
 my way to Detroit with Dave, — when White Buf- 
 falo plays a trick on 'em." 
 
 "What did he do, Sam?" 
 
 "Got one o' his followers to wave a torch from 
 some rocks. The feller war kivered with a white 
 blanket an' I reckon they took him fer a ghost. 
 When Moon Eye's crowd war lookin' at the figger 
 
HOME ONCE MORE \OJ 
 
 in white, White Buffalo come up to me, fixed up 
 as one o' the enemy, an' cuts me loose. I didn't 
 know him myself till he spoke. The disguise 
 did the trick, and we got away into the forest. 
 Then I dropped, I war thet weak, and they brung 
 me here. Then he said he would do what he 
 could fer ye — an' he must have kept his word, 
 or ye wouldn't be here," concluded the old 
 frontiersman. 
 
 White Buffalo had mentioned another spot — 
 down the river — where the party of whites might 
 wait until morning for the Delawares to join them. 
 Helping Sam Barringford upon one of the horses 
 that had been carrying supplies, they set off for the 
 place mentioned, reaching it without mishap just as 
 day was breaking. 
 
 By this time the entire party was so worn out that 
 half the number were glad to throw themselves 
 down to rest, leaving the others on guard for two 
 hours, when they were relieved by their companions. 
 A light breakfast was served, no campfire being lit 
 for fear the smoke might attract the attention of the 
 enemy. 
 
 It was well toward noon when White Buffalo 
 came in, he and his followers having had to make a 
 wide detour, in order to escape another encounter 
 with Moon Eye. W T hite Buffalo had been struck 
 
108 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 in the left forearm by a tomahawk, an ugly but not a 
 serious cut, and one brave had received an arrow in 
 the fleshy part of the leg. 
 
 "Do you think they are coming this way?" was 
 Rodney's first question. 
 
 "There is no telling what they will do next," 
 answered the aged Indian chief. "White Buffalo 
 and his followers drew them as far northward as 
 possible — we could do no more. Rodney had better 
 travel eastward as fast as he can. In that direction 
 alone lies safety." 
 
 Without delay the march was once more begun, 
 first to a fording spot across the stream and then 
 directly eastward. They moved onward until long 
 after sunset, covering at least fifteen miles, over a 
 broken deer trail that was rough in the extreme. 
 On the way one horse — that carrying Nell and little 
 Tom — stepped into a hole and went down, throwing 
 both children into the bushes. 
 
 "Are you hurt, Nell?" asked Rodney, rushing up 
 in alarm. 
 
 "I — I think not !" she gasped. "But I don't like 
 such tumbles at all !" 
 
 "Bad horse, to go down with Tom," said the little 
 boy. 
 
 "He couldn't help it," answered Rodney. "I am 
 glad you are not injured," he added, heartily, and 
 
HOME ONCE MORE IO9 
 
 picked the boy up in his arms while Nell arose un- 
 aided. 
 
 The horse was in a bad way, having broken his 
 leg and dislocated his shoulder. To put him out of 
 his misery, Rodney had one of the Indians kill him 
 with several blows from a tomahawk. Then Nell 
 and Tom were placed on another horse, and the 
 party went on as before. 
 
 The next day found them once more on the 
 regular road. Not a sign of the enemy had been 
 seen and all began to breathe a little easier. 
 
 "I think we are out of it at last," said Rodney. 
 "We are getting pretty well on to the east now." 
 
 "Right you are," answered Casbury. 
 
 "That White Buffalo is a pretty good Injun after 
 all, so he is," admitted Malloy. 
 
 They had now reached what in ' past years had 
 been the foremost of the homesteads along the army 
 road. The places were burned down without ex- 
 ception, only the blackened ruins showing where log 
 cabins and stables had stood. The owners had long 
 since either fled or been killed. 
 
 "It may be a long while before this is settled 
 again," said Rodney. 
 
 "Perhaps not, lad," answered one of the frontiers- 
 men. "As soon as it is known the Indians are under 
 control some folks will come out again, and others 
 
IIO TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 will follow," and this proved to be true. Inside of 
 three years there were more settlements along the 
 Forbes and the Braddock roads than ever be- 
 fore. 
 
 Feeling themselves fairly free from danger, they 
 did not push along quite so rapidly. This rested the 
 horses and was also more comfortable for Sam 
 Barringford, who had suffered more than he cared 
 to admit. 
 
 "Rodney will not want White Buffalo any more," 
 said the aged chief one morning, when they were 
 within two days' journey of Fort Cumberland. 
 "White Buffalo must go elsewhere." 
 
 "Won't you come home with me?" asked the 
 young soldier. "Father will be glad to see you, I 
 know." 
 
 "White Buffalo must attend to the affairs of his 
 tribe," was the reply, and soon the aged chief de- 
 parted with his followers, stating that if it was 
 possible he would stop at Fort Pitt and let James 
 Morris, Dave, and Henry know how they had come 
 through without great loss. Rodney thanked the 
 Indian for all he had done and shook hands warmly, 
 and Barringford did the same. It was a long while, 
 and many startling things occurred, before they saw 
 White Buffalo again. 
 
 The thoughts of Rodney and his sister turned 
 
HOME ONCE MORE III 
 
 homeward now, and both were anxious to see the old 
 homestead once more. The twins did not remem- 
 ber much, having been away so long, but they were 
 glad to get away from "the shooting Indians" as 
 Artie called them. 
 
 It was a cold but clear day when the expedition 
 reached Fort Cumberland. Here the regulars re- 
 ported, as they had been told to do, and were 
 properly discharged from further service in the 
 army. Rodney, Barringford, and the others also 
 told their stories and delivered a message sent by 
 Colonel Bouquet, who was still near Fort Pitt, try- 
 ing to locate Pontiac. 
 
 All was now comparatively quiet around Fort 
 Cumberland. To the southward, a small band of 
 Indians had appeared a few weeks before and at- 
 tacked some white and colored people, carrying two 
 colored girls, slaves of a Mr. Bowman, into captiv- 
 ity. To the northward, the enemy had fallen on a 
 band of Moravians while at their devotions and 
 slaughtered one of the leaders and two young 
 women. The Moravians were very bitter and 
 wanted the English army to drive the red men to 
 the far west, beyond the Mississippi. 
 
 Leaving the others at Fort Cumberland, Rodney 
 took the horses and set off for the Morris homestead, 
 in company with Barringford, Nell, and the twins. 
 
112 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 The route was now familiar even to Nell, and she 
 watched eagerly for the first sign of the cabin. 
 
 "Papa ! I see papa !" she cried, as they made a 
 turn along the brook road, and soon they saw Joseph 
 Morris walking toward them, rifle in hand, for none 
 of the settlers thought of going out without being 
 armed. 
 
 "Rodney! and Nell!" burst from Joseph Morris's 
 lips, and he came running up with a beaming face. 
 He kissed his little daughter several times. "Glad 
 you are back! And you too, Sam," he added to the 
 old frontiersman. "And how are the twins?" and 
 he chucked them under the chin. 
 
 "I am glad to be back," said Rodney. "It seems 
 like an age since I went away and joined the 
 soldiers." 
 
 They did not stop to tell their story, for it was 
 only a step more to the log cabin. Mrs. Morris, the 
 kindest of motherly women, came rushing out of the 
 door to greet them. 
 
 "Nell, my Nell !" she burst out, and hugged her 
 daughter over and over again, while the tears of joy 
 streamed down her face. "Oh, how glad I am that 
 you are back !" 
 
 "And I am glad too, mamma," said Nell. "Oh, 
 it's been such a very, very long time since the Indians 
 took me !" 
 
HOME ONCE MORE 113 
 
 "And Rodney!" went on Mrs. Morris, kissing his 
 sunburnt cheek. "How did you stand it? Didn't 
 the old lameness bother you?" And then she 
 hugged the twins and shook hands with Sam Bar- 
 ringford. It was indeed a happy meeting all 
 around. 
 
 "You must stay home, at least for the winter," 
 said Joseph Morris to his son. "You have seen 
 enough of peril for a time." 
 
 "I am willing to stay home," said Rodney. "But 
 I think I ought to join Uncle Jim and Dave and 
 Henry in the spring." 
 
 He told all the news that evening, sitting around 
 the kitchen fire, and Barringford and little Nell also 
 told their tales. The old frontiersman wanted to 
 know if any letter had come from England regard- 
 ing the twins. 
 
 "Nothing as yet," said Joseph Morris. "But it is 
 something to know that their father's name is 
 Maurice Hamilton, and that he is well-to-do. Some 
 day we shall probably hear from him." 
 
 Much about the homestead had been destroyed by 
 the Indians, but Joseph Morris had worked hard to 
 get things into shape again. Family stores had 
 been brought in, from Fort Cumberland and from 
 Annapolis, and the settler had cut a pile of wood for 
 winter use. 
 
114 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I hope all goes well with those left at Fort Pitt," 
 said Joseph Morris. "It is said here that the 
 Indians are very bitter out there." 
 
 "They certainly are," answered Rodney. 
 
 "It's a pity Pontiac was not slain. He is the head 
 and front of this constant fighting. More than 
 likely he will try to get up another conspiracy be- 
 fore long." 
 
 "Your neighbor, Jack Spader, just told me some 
 news," said Sam Barringford, who sat on the door- 
 step, taking his ease in the sunshine. "It is re- 
 ported at Fort Cumberland that the Indians are 
 going to make another attack on Fort Pitt. Nobody 
 seems to know where the report started." 
 
 "I trust it is not true," replied Rodney. 
 
 "So do I," added Mrs. Morris, "for the sake of 
 Henry, and your uncle, and Cousin Dave." 
 
 "Well, they will have to do what they can to take 
 care of themselves," said Joseph Morris. "Perhaps 
 we shall have our own hands full here this winter. 
 The Indians have made no preparations for cold 
 weather, and rather than starve they may attack us." 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AN OLD ENEMY APPEARS 
 
 After the departure of Rodney, Nell, and the 
 twins from Fort Pitt, matters at that stronghold 
 went along smoothly for several weeks. Once Dave 
 and Henry went out hunting with Mr. Morris, and 
 managed to secure a deer and some smaller game, 
 but that was all. 
 
 In the meantime the meeting that Sir William 
 Johnson had arranged with the Six Nations and 
 other tribes of Indians from upper New York and 
 from Canada came to a conclusion. Many of the 
 red men agreed to keep the peace and some even 
 agreed to take up arms against the Indians of the 
 Mississippi region, being offered good pay for this 
 service. But others, including the Senecas, went 
 away murmuring, saying that the English were try- 
 ing to rob them of their lands and they would not 
 submit to it. Then there were certain bands, like 
 that under Moon Eye, that had become absolutely 
 lawless, killing and plundering whenever the op- 
 portunity offered. Some of these bands united with 
 
 115 
 
Il6 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 some of the most lawless of the French, especially 
 those who held isolated trading posts, and what they 
 did to make life miserable for the frontiersmen will 
 be told later on. 
 
 The coming of winter in the vicinity of Fort Pitt 
 made hunting extra good, and both Dave and Henry 
 urged Mr. Morris to go out again. As a result a 
 party of five was organized, the two others being 
 Tony Jadwin the frontiersman and another charac- 
 ter well known to my old readers, Peaceful Jones, 
 who had fought so bravely when the Morrises had 
 defended their trading post the season previous. 
 
 The party took along something in the way of a 
 camping outfit and expected to be gone at least three 
 days. Although he did not tell those at the fort, 
 James Morris decided to push westward, to note if 
 the way was clear, so he might start for his trading 
 post in the spring. 
 
 The first day out the party got on the trail of a 
 whole herd of deer. But something scared the timid 
 creatures, and they bounded away to the westward, 
 through a thick snow that was falling at the time. 
 
 "Oh, we must get some of those deer!" cried 
 Henry. "We can't afford to miss them !" 
 
 "Well, we'll get them if the falling snow doesn't 
 put us off the trail," answered his uncle. 
 
 But the snow continued to come down heavily, 
 
AN OLD ENEMY APPEARS \\J 
 
 and by nightfall the chase had to be abandoned, at 
 least for the time being. They went into camp 
 between the hemlocks, finding a comfortable shelter 
 under some thick, snow-laden branches. 
 
 "I wonder if there are any Indians around?" re- 
 marked Dave, while they were eating supper. "I 
 hope not." 
 
 "It is possible some of them may be out hunting 
 like ourselves," answered his father. "Somebody 
 will have to stand guard." 
 
 But the night passed without interruption. In 
 the morning it began to snow once more, and this 
 time so furiously that they did not know what to do. 
 
 "Hunting is all out of the question in sech a storm 
 as this," said Tony Jadwin, with a deep sigh. "No 
 game stirring, onless it's a rabbit, an' they ain't wuth 
 wastin' powder an' shot on." 
 
 The snow kept up until noon and was then over a 
 foot in depth. But after that the sun came out, 
 making the landscape dazzling white. 
 
 The party was coming out of a heavy stretch of 
 timber when James Morris called a sudden halt. At 
 a distance could be seen the smoke of a campfire. 
 
 "Must be Injuns," was Peaceful Jones's com- 
 ment. 
 
 A brief consultation was held, and Tony Jadwin 
 took it on himself to go forward and investigate. 
 
Il8 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 He skirted the clearing and passed among the trees, 
 and that was the last the others saw of him for a 
 full half-hour. 
 
 "Got news fer ye," he said, to James Morris, on 
 returning. "Powerful news, too." 
 
 "What is it?" demanded the trader, quickly. 
 
 "Who do ye reckon I see over yonder?" 
 
 "Some Indians?" 
 
 "Yes, a handful. But thet ain't all. I see thet 
 good-fer-nuthin' Frenchman thet made so much 
 trouble fer ye fer years." 
 
 "What, you don't mean Jean Bevoir!" broke in 
 Dave. 
 
 "Thet's exactly the pusson I do mean." 
 
 "I shouldn't think he'd dare to show his face 
 around here," said Henry. "He must know that if 
 he is captured it will go hard with him." 
 
 "An' thet ain't the whole o' it," went on Tony 
 Jadwin. "Do ye remember thet Frenchman as run 
 away from Fort Pitt — the feller thet had somethin' 
 to do with stealing' them twins?" 
 
 "You mean Benoit Vascal?" asked the trader. 
 
 "Yes. Wall, he's thar too, an' he an' Bevoir 
 seem to be putty thick, ez near ez I kin figger it." 
 
 "Father, we ought to try to capture 'em both!" 
 burst out Dave. 
 
 "That's the talk," said Henry. "Why, it will 
 
AN OLD ENEMY APPEARS II9 
 
 never be safe around the trading post as long as 
 Jean Bevoir is at large. He will incite other French- 
 men and also Indians to do us harm." 
 
 "Who else is in the party?" asked James Morris 
 of Jadwin. 
 
 "Two other Frenchmen — trappers who used to 
 help Bevoir — and about a dozen Injuns — the crowd 
 that used to be under Flat Nose." 
 
 "Yes, I remember that crowd," said Dave. "They 
 were certainly a bloodthirsty set." 
 
 "Sixteen all told," mused James Morris. "I am 
 afraid they are too many for us." 
 
 "Perhaps the Indians won't fight," suggested 
 Henry. 
 
 "They'll fight right enough," answered Tony Jad- 
 win. "They have just enough rum in them to make 
 'em ugly. I think Bevoir had been supplyin' 'em 
 with liquor." 
 
 "His old trick," murmured Dave. "And it 
 always works — with such Indians as he gets to aid 
 him in his dirty work." 
 
 The matter was talked over, and James Morris 
 said he would take a look at the enemy himself. 
 Dave begged to be taken along, and his parent con- 
 sented. 
 
 It was an easy matter to follow the trail Tony 
 Jadwin had made. Walking through the snow, they 
 
120 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 made no noise, and soon reached the point of vant- 
 age the old trapper had occupied. They found the 
 enemy encamped in the midst of a patch of wood, 
 with some rocks on one side. Stationing themselves 
 behind the rocks they readily saw and heard a good 
 deal of what occurred. 
 
 The four Frenchmen spoke in French, while the 
 Indians used their native language. As a conse- 
 quence, Dave understood but little of what was said. 
 But Mr. Morris could speak French fairly well, and 
 understood much of the red men's dialect. He 
 took in every word that reached his ears, and as he 
 listened his brow darkened 
 
 At the end of an hour the talk came to an end, and 
 Indians and French got ready to move. There were 
 four horses in the camp, which Jean Bevoir and his 
 countrymen rode, leaving the Indians to accompany 
 them on foot. Bevoir was scarred from his wounds, 
 and limped as he mounted his steed. 
 
 "I ought to put a bullet through that rascal's 
 head !" whispered James Morris. "He is not worthy 
 to live." 
 
 "If they discover us they will surely kill us, 
 father," whispered Dave, in return. "They can 
 easily track us through the snow. Even as it is, they 
 may come across our tracks and follow us up." 
 
 "I know it, Dave — and I shall do nothing now." 
 
AN OLD ENEMY APPEARS 121 
 
 The enemy were soon on their way, following 
 what was a trail leading to the far west. James 
 Morris saw them depart with a darker look than 
 ever on his face. 
 
 "The rascals! The infamous scoundrels!" he 
 cried, when he dared to speak in louder tones. 
 
 "What did you learn, father?" asked the son. 
 
 "A great deal, Dave. Do you know what Jean 
 Bevoir intends to do?" 
 
 "I haven't the least idea." 
 
 "He and his followers, including that Benoit Vas- 
 cal, are going to join forces with a large body of 
 Indians. They are going to induce other French- 
 men to do likewise, if they can. The Indians are 
 to aid the Frenchmen in an attack on every trading 
 post for miles around, and whenever successful 
 French and Indians are to divide the plunder." 
 
 "Well, they have done just as bad things before." 
 
 "That is not all. If the other Indians are finally 
 subdued Jean Bevoir is to take charge of my old trad- 
 ing post, producing a paper to the effect that I once 
 signed over all my rights to the place to him. To 
 this document the other Frenchmen will affix their 
 names as witnesses." 
 
 "Oh, what a rascally thing to do !" 
 
 "In return for aiding Jean Bevoir, Benoit Vascal 
 is also to receive favors," went on James Morris. 
 
122 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Do you remember the papers that were lost — those 
 relating to Mr. Maurice Hamilton's right to certain 
 tracts of land along the St. Lawrence?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "Well, Vascal will have duplicates made and have 
 the rights transferred to himself, the others being 
 witnesses to this instrument. Thus, they will cheat 
 the father of the twins out of his property." 
 
 "But what will they do when you turn up, and 
 when Mr. Hamilton appears?" 
 
 "That is the most dastardly part of the whole 
 business. They are either going to poison us in 
 secret or else capture us and turn us over to some 
 Indians, who, for a consideration, will make way 
 with us in such a fashion that the authorities will be 
 completely baffled." 
 
 "How awful, father! How can a man like Jean 
 Bevoir be so bloodthirsty?" 
 
 "It is his old hatred of me grown more bitter day 
 by day. He hated me when first we established rival 
 trading posts, and now he cannot bear to think of 
 the English winning this war against the French 
 and Indians and see me getting what is justly my 
 due." 
 
 "And what do you intend to do about it?" 
 
 "I do not know yet — I must think the matter over, 
 and perhaps I will consult with Captain Ecuyer and 
 
AN OLD ENEMY APPEARS 1 23 
 
 Colonel Bouquet. They certainly ought to know 
 about such dastardly plots as these." 
 
 Mr. Morris and Dave rejoined the others, and 
 there told of what had been heard. Peaceful Jones, 
 who was in reality a most pugnacious trapper, 
 wanted to attack the enemy on the spot. 
 
 "We kin mow 'em all down afore they know 
 what's struck 'em," said he. "Come on in an' have 
 a shindy !" 
 
 "I will not risk it — it is asking too much of you," 
 answered James Morris. "Were it necessary it 
 would be different. Let them escape for the time 
 being. Another time we may be better able to cope 
 with them." 
 
 From a safe distance they saw the Frenchmen and 
 the Indians move along the trail they had chosen. 
 Soon the coming of night hid them from view. 
 Dave drew a sigh of relief. 
 
 "I wish we could get rid of Jean Bevoir," he said. 
 "He has caused us so much trouble." 
 
 "There is one comfort," said his father, with a 
 faint smile. " 'Forewarned is forearmed.' I know 
 what he intends to do, and I can accordingly lay my 
 plans to thwart him." 
 
 "Do you think the French government will allow 
 such actions?" 
 
 "Scarcely, Dave — yet, as matters stand to-day, he 
 
124 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 may be able to explain matters to their satisfaction. 
 Remember, at the present time all Frenchmen are 
 very bitter against the English." 
 
 "I wish we could capture that Benoit Vascal. I 
 am certain he can tell us a good deal more about the 
 twins, if he will only open his mouth." 
 
 "Vascal and Bevoir seem to be tarred with the 
 same stick. Both are rascals and will do anything to 
 get hold of money. I am afraid we shall have a 
 great deal of trouble before we have seen the last of 
 them," concluded James Morris, and his forecast 
 was correct, as later events amply proved. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A FIGHT WITH A WOLVERINE 
 
 The whole party had lost much of their interest 
 in the hunt, and it was decided to return to Fort Pitt 
 without delay. They went into camp for the night 
 at the spot the enemy had occupied. 
 
 "It is going to be cold to-night," said Tony Jad- 
 win, and his words proved true. A keen, penetrat- 
 ing wind started up, and they were glad enough to 
 crouch as close to the fire as possible. 
 
 After an early breakfast they started for the fort 
 by another trail. On this they were fortunate 
 enough to come across three deer, caught in some- 
 thing of a hollow between the rocks. Henry 
 brought one of the animals down and the frontiers- 
 men shot the others. Later on Dave got a shot at 
 some partridges and brought down two that were 
 plump and tender. 
 
 "Well, we shall not go back empty-handed," said 
 James Morris. 
 
 When they reached the fort they found the gar- 
 rison on strict guard duty. A report had come in 
 
 125 
 
126 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 from the northward that some of the Six Nations 
 were not going to agree on peace, but were march- 
 ing to reduce the stronghold. The report was false, 
 but it kept those at Fort Pitt on the watch for a week. 
 
 Captain Ecuyer listened to James Morris's story 
 with interest, and when Colonel Bouquet came in he 
 did the same. 
 
 "I do not see what can be done at present," said 
 the commandant of the fort. "I cannot send any 
 men out to your trading post this winter. It may be 
 that we can do something in the spring." 
 
 This was what Colonel Bouquet said also, and the 
 trader had to accept it as final. But the delay chafed 
 him. 
 
 "I have an idea of making my way to the post," 
 said he to his son. "I know it will not be a very 
 nice trip at this time of year, but I would like to 
 arrive there before Jean Bevoir has a chance to 
 settle down and make himself at home." 
 
 "If you go of course you will take me along," re- 
 turned Dave, instantly. 
 
 "No, I was thinking of taking only two or three of 
 the old trappers. You see, if we cannot get into the 
 post we shall have to stay in the forest and get our 
 living as best we can, and that will be hard, — if the 
 winter proves a severe one." 
 
 The matter was talked over for a week, but noth- 
 
A FIGHT WITH A WOLVERINE 127 
 
 ing came of it just then. But at the end of the next 
 week James Morris arranged to go west, taking 
 Tony Jadwin, Peaceful Jones, and a trapper named 
 Pomeroy with him. They elected to go on foot, tak- 
 ing some snowshoes with them. Each was to carry 
 a good stock of provisions and also plenty of am- 
 munition. 
 
 "If we get into the post and have no further 
 trouble, I will send Pomeroy back with the news and 
 also with a letter of instructions," said James Morris. 
 
 "And supposing you can't get into the post?" said 
 Dave. 
 
 "Then we may stay in that vicinity, or we may 
 come back — just as I think best." 
 
 "But you will send some kind of word, won't 
 you?" inquired Henry. 
 
 "Yes, I will send word of some kind before the 
 New Year," answered his uncle. 
 
 The two youths saw the expedition well on its 
 way, going out with it a distance of three miles. 
 Then came an affectionate parting, and those mov- 
 ing to the west were lost to view down the snowy 
 forest trail. 
 
 "I wish I was going along," said Dave, with a 
 deep sigh. 
 
 "The same here, Dave," answered his cousin. 
 "But your father did not wish it, and so we shall 
 
128 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 have to stay at the fort. I hope all goes well with 
 them." 
 
 "Yes, I shouldn't wish father to fall into the 
 clutches of Jean Bevoir. Oh, how I despise that 
 rascal !" 
 
 The youths had decided to try a bit of hunting 
 while they were out. Henry led the way into the 
 forest, and they wandered along until they came to 
 the tracks of some wild animal. 
 
 "What is it?" asked Dave. 
 
 "It stumps me," answered his cousin. "It is cer- 
 tain not the track of a deer." 
 
 "Maybe it's a bear, or a buffalo." 
 
 "I don't think so. But whatever it is, it was 
 carrying something in its mouth." 
 
 "How do you know that?" 
 
 "Don't you see the occasional dip in the snow 
 alongside of the trail? The load was heavy and 
 sagged down at times." 
 
 "Shall we follow the trail up?" 
 
 "I'm willing." 
 
 The trail led into the very depths of the great 
 forest, and to help them from getting lost they broke 
 off the bushes here and there, thus "blazing" the 
 trail as they proceeded. In the open spaces the 
 wind had drifted the snow quite a little, but where 
 the trail led the walking- proved fairly easy. 
 
A FIGHT WITH A WOLVERINE 1 29 
 
 "The animal certainly traveled a good distance," 
 remarked Dave, after almost a mile had been 
 covered. 
 
 "We are coming to the end now," answered 
 Henry, whose keen eyes took in every detail of the 
 trail. 
 
 "How do you know that?" 
 
 "Don't you see how the dips increase? That 
 shows the load was growing heavier. The steps 
 are shorter too." 
 
 "Henry, it's wonderful how you notice such 
 things !" 
 
 "Not at all. I only keep my eyes open, that's all. 
 Now we had better keep quiet, or we may scare the 
 game away." 
 
 After that they proceeded a short distance further. 
 Then they reached a clearing, where the heavy wind 
 of the summer previous had cut down several of the 
 tallest trees. 
 
 "There must have been a whirlwind here," whis- 
 pered Dave. 
 
 "Hush, the trail leads under that mass of 
 piled-up trees," returned Henry. "Got your gun 
 ready?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Dave had hardly spoken when there came a snarl 
 from under the mass of trees, and looking down both 
 
I30 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 young hunters saw a pair of gleaming eyes glaring 
 hatefully at them. 
 
 "It's a bear!" cried Dave. 
 
 "No, a wolverine !" burst out Henry. "And an 
 ugly one, too. Look out for yourself." 
 
 Henry was indeed right; it was a wolverine they 
 had trailed to its lair — a ferocious beast, sometimes 
 known as a glutton, because of its enormous appetite 
 for meat. The wolverine was of unusual size, with 
 a shaggy body of brownish-black. The muzzle was 
 darker than the rest of the beast, and under the 
 throat were several whitish spots. The upper lip 
 hairs were long and coarse, and the fangs keener 
 than those of a wolf. 
 
 The wolverine had been feasting on the carcass of 
 a fox, but the meal had evidently not sweetened his 
 temper. Suddenly he turned and disappeared from 
 view along the tree-branches. 
 
 "He has gone," said Dave. 
 
 "Keep your eyes open !" shouted Henry. "He 
 means fight ! I know the kind !" 
 
 A moment passed and the wolverine reappeared, 
 this time on an upper limb of a fallen tree. He gave 
 one low snarl and then sprang directly for Dave's 
 throat. 
 
 Crack ! It was Henry's rifle that spoke up. The 
 aim was a hasty one, and the wolverine was hit in 
 
A FIGHT WITH A WOLVERINE 131 
 
 the hind quarters. Dave slipped to one side, and the 
 beast landed at his feet. Then Dave stepped back, 
 to get a shot, but the beast whirled around in the 
 snow and once more gained the shelter of his lair. 
 
 The two young hunters lost no time in retreating, 
 but Henry kept Dave from going too close to any 
 bushes in the vicinity. 
 
 "You can't trust a wolverine," he said. "Load up 
 quick — and keep your eyes wide open. He may be 
 at our backs next." 
 
 Dave was well aware of their danger. He had 
 heard of a hunter being killed by a wolverine 
 and heard Sam Barringford say that the beast was 
 the most treacherous of animals. If cornered a 
 wolverine will often fight to the death, no matter 
 what the odds. It has been known to attack animals 
 much larger than itself. 
 
 The two young hunters reloaded with speed and 
 kept their eyes on the fallen trees. They saw a 
 branch move, but could not see the wolverine. 
 Dave, it must be confessed, began to grow a trifle 
 nervous. 
 
 "Do you see him?" he asked, after fully a minute 
 had passed. 
 
 "No, but There he is ! Look out !" 
 
 The wolverine had appeared on one of the highest 
 of the tree-branches. He made a lightning-like leap 
 
132 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 and gained one of the neighboring trees. Dave took 
 a quick shot, but missed his mark. Then the body 
 of the wolverine was hidden by the broad tree-limb. 
 
 "Let us get out of this," said Dave. "Before we 
 know it, one of us will get hurt." 
 
 "I am going to kill that wolverine," answered 
 Henry, determinedly, all his hunting instinct on 
 edge over what had already occurred. 
 
 "What's the use? He is no good for meat." 
 
 "The beast is not going to get the better of me." 
 
 Henry walked around the tree with care. He got 
 a slight glimpse of the wolverine's bushy tail, but 
 that was all. 
 
 "Can you see him, Henry?" 
 
 "I know where he is. I think I can make him 
 move." 
 
 Henry picked up some snow, made a snowball, 
 and threw it at the bushy tail. There was a snarl 
 and a snap, and clown into the snow leaped the 
 wolverine, all ready for a fight. 
 
 As soon as the beast landed Dave fired. As luck 
 would have it, the wolverine was hit in the side and 
 turned over and over, sending the snow in all 
 directions. 
 
 "I've got him! I've got him!" called out the 
 young hunter, excitedly. 
 
 "I reckon I'd better finish him," answered Henry, 
 
A FIGHT WITH A WOLVERINE 1 33 
 
 and once again his rifle spoke up. At once the 
 whirling of the wolverine ceased, and he stretched 
 himself out on the snow. 
 
 "My gracious! that was a fight," observed Dave, 
 wiping the cold perspiration from his forehead. "I 
 don't wonder some folks think there is nothing so 
 savage as a wolverine." 
 
 "We want to be on guard still," said Henry. 
 "Load up. His mate may be around here, and they 
 say a she-wolverine is ten times worse than a he- 
 one." 
 
 "She'll certainly be bad enough when she learns 
 that we have killed her mate." 
 
 "We may as well give up hunting around here," 
 went on Henry. "Our shots have probably scared 
 away any deer that may be in this vicinity." 
 
 "We can look for small game, Henry. I don't 
 want to go back empty-handed." 
 
 "Listen!" 
 
 The two young hunters were reloading, when 
 Henry uttered the exclamation. 
 
 "What did you hear?" asked Dave. 
 
 "Sounded to me like a wolf, and it was pretty 
 close too." 
 
 "I hope we don't meet any wolves in this forest !" 
 cried Dave. 
 
 Both listened, and soon heard three more wolves. 
 
134 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 They were coming along the trail made by the 
 wolverine and the youths. 
 
 "I see them! And they are coming directly for 
 us!" cried Dave, a minute later, and as he spoke 
 eight or nine wolves burst into view, coming for- 
 ward on a run, their eyes gleaming and their fangs 
 showing viciously. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 WOLVES, AND A SNOWSTORM 
 
 The two young hunters knew from former ex- 
 perience that it would be useless to attempt to shoot 
 down so many wolves, and so they looked around 
 for some other means whereby to escape from the 
 beasts, who were evidently hungry and blood- 
 thirsty. 
 
 "Into one of the trees !" cried Henry, and slung 
 his rifle over his shoulder. His cousin did likewise, 
 and both caught hold of some tree-limbs just as the 
 wolves drew near. One made a snap at them, but 
 they managed to get out of the reach of the animal 
 before any damage was done. 
 
 As was to be expected, the first wolves to appear 
 were the forerunners of a pack, and soon, to the 
 consternation of Dave and Henry, more of the beasts 
 appeared until they could count forty. They 
 snapped and snarled, and several fell upon the carcass 
 of the wolverine and tore it into pieces. 
 
 "That's the way they'd like to tear us into bits," 
 remarked Dave, with a shudder over the sight. 
 
 135 
 
136 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Dave, no two ways about it, we are in a pickle." 
 
 "And likely to stay there for some time to come, 
 Henry." 
 
 "That's the truth of it. Trying to shoot such a 
 pack is utterly impossible." 
 
 "And I doubt if we can drive 'em away either." 
 
 Just to try the effects of a shot, both took careful 
 aim, each at a big wolf. The beasts went down, one 
 killed outright and the other mortally wounded. 
 The rest of the pack retreated for a few minutes, 
 then came forward as before. 
 
 "See, they are eating up the dead one !" said 
 Henry, and it was true. The carcass was hauled 
 and pulled and torn apart, the wolves fighting 
 greedily over the pieces. The wounded wolf 
 crawled off in the snow and later followed the fate of 
 the other. 
 
 After firing the two shots the young hunters re- 
 loaded as before and sat down among the tree- 
 branches to consider the situation. It was about 
 noon, and both were hungry. 
 
 "We are fortunate in having some rations along," 
 remarked Dave. "But it will be dry eating, without 
 a drink of water." 
 
 However, they ate their meal, taking their time, 
 as there seemed nothing else to do. In the mean- 
 time, the wolves sat around the tree in a wide circle, 
 
WOLVES, AND A SNOWSTORM 1 37 
 
 watching them intently. There would be a spell of 
 silence, then one of the number would growl or snap 
 and in a moment the whole pack would be at it. 
 Then another silence would follow. 
 
 "This is certainly growing interesting," observed 
 Dave, as he swallowed the last of his food. "I'd 
 give a sixpence for a drink of water." 
 
 "And two shillings to have the wolves go away," 
 added Henry, with a grin. "Dave, perhaps we are 
 booked to stay here all night." 
 
 "It will be a cold roosting-place. As it is I am 
 pretty cold." 
 
 To keep warm they slapped their arms across their 
 chests, and hammered their heels against the tree- 
 trunk. In doing this Dave suddenly slipped and 
 fell. 
 
 "Look out !" cried his cousin, and made a clutch at 
 him. Both went down, one on one side of a limb 
 and one on the other. Henry had Dave by the arm, 
 and there they hung for a moment, with the wolves 
 below, leaping up and snapping as never before. 
 
 "Don't let go !" shrieked Dave, who had no desire 
 to fall among those snapping jaws waiting to receive 
 him. 
 
 Henry clung fast, although it was no easy matter 
 to sustain his cousin in such an unusual position. 
 His wrist was twisted painfully. Then each caught 
 
138 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 the limb with his free hand, and they both swung up 
 to safety once more. 
 
 "That was a narrow squeak !" gasped Dave. "I 
 thought the wolves had me sure. I hope you didn't 
 get hurt, Henry." 
 
 "Got my wrist scraped a little, that's all," was the 
 reply. "But please don't slip down again. Where's 
 your gun ?" 
 
 Dave felt around in dismay. Then he looked be- 
 low. The strap had broken and the weapon lay in 
 the snow among the wolves. 
 
 "You'll not do any more shooting just yet," went 
 on Henry, grimly. 
 
 "It's too bad!" cried Dave. "The strap wasn't 
 very good, but I thought it would hold for this trip. 
 Look out that yours doesn't drop, Henry." 
 
 "I'll try to keep it on hand." 
 
 Once again there came a period of waiting. So 
 far it had been clear, but now it commenced to cloud 
 over. 
 
 "We are going to have either snow or rain," an- 
 nounced Dave. 
 
 "Well, of the two I hope it is snow," said Henry. 
 "I don't want to get wet through in such cold 
 weather as this. It will give us our death of cold." 
 
 A little while after that it began to snow. At 
 first the flakes were large and drifted down like so 
 
WOLVES, AND A SNOWSTORM 1 39 
 
 many feathers. But soon they grew smaller and 
 came down so thickly that a large portion of the 
 landscape was blotted out. Then a wind sprung up, 
 making the situation of the young hunters anything 
 but comfortable. 
 
 "The wolves are leaving !" cried Henry, presently, 
 as an extra blast of wind sent the snow swirling 
 around. "They don't like this storm. Reckon 
 they are afraid of being snowed in." 
 
 "I don't like the storm myself," returned his 
 cousin. "See how thickly the snow is coming down 
 now." 
 
 Soon the last of the wolves had disappeared and 
 silence reigned in that part of the vast forest. With 
 caution they let themselves down to the ground, and 
 Dave picked up his gun, cleaned it, and put on a new 
 priming. 
 
 "We'll have to watch out for those wolves," he 
 cautioned. 
 
 "If they come for us, we can climb another tree," 
 answered Henry. "But I don't think they will turn 
 back. Their lair may be miles from here, and they 
 will want to get there before they become snow- 
 bound." 
 
 The falling snow had covered the wolverine trail, 
 and it was with difficulty that they could see the 
 bushes they had broken off while journeying along. 
 
140 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 It was growing darker and the snow swirled and 
 blew in every direction, almost blinding them. 
 
 "This will delay father," observed Dave. "The 
 party will have to go into camp and stay there until 
 the storm clears away." 
 
 "We may have to go into camp ourselves, Dave." 
 
 "Perhaps so. This puts me in mind of the time 
 Sam Barringford and I were journeying to Fort 
 Oswego, and got caught in a terrible storm — the 
 time we got a bear." 
 
 "You were after Jean Bevoir then, weren't you?" 
 
 "Yes, we thought he had Nell as a prisoner. My, 
 but that was a howler, Henry!" 
 
 "Well, this is going to be a howler, too ! Listen 
 to the wind rising!" 
 
 There was no need to listen, for they could not 
 have shut out the sound had they tried. The flakes 
 of snow had given way to fine, hard particles resem- 
 bling salt, and these pelted them in the face until they 
 could not see and had to turn around to catch their 
 breath. 
 
 "May as well give it up," said Henry, after strug- 
 gling along for almost a mile. "Let us find some 
 place under the cedars." 
 
 They had reached a spot where the cedars were 
 plentiful, and picked out one with the lower boughs 
 bent down to the ground. Getting under this they 
 
WOLVES, AND A SNOWSTORM 14I 
 
 were sheltered from the biting wind, and had a 
 chance to rest and consider the situation. 
 
 "One thing is certain, I don't want to stay out all 
 night without something to eat and without a fire," 
 said Henry, who loved all the comforts of a hunter's 
 life. "We must find a better shelter than this. 
 We can't start a blaze here without the danger of 
 setting fire to the forest." 
 
 "I'm willing to go anywhere, providing it isn't too 
 far," answered Dave. 
 
 Having rested for half an hour they started on- 
 ward once more. They soon reached a spot that 
 looked familiar to both of them. 
 
 "Hurrah! I know where we are now!" cried 
 Dave. 
 
 "So do I, and I know where we can find a pretty 
 good shelter," added Henry. 
 
 He referred to what had once been an Indian 
 village, long before the French and English had 
 come to that territory. Here, among the ruins, was 
 located an old council-house, of logs and bark, with 
 a sort of fireplace at one end. 
 
 "At the old Indian village?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 They hurried on, for it was now growing night. 
 Both had their guns over their backs, but presently 
 Henry swung his weapon around to the front. 
 
142 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Maybe we'll be able to pick up something for 
 supper and breakfast," he observed. 
 
 It did not take long to reach the deserted village. 
 Nothing was standing but the old council-house, and 
 that was next to being a wreck. As they stepped 
 over the threshold they saw something hop away 
 through an open doorway on the other side. 
 Quickly Henry blazed away. 
 
 "A rabbit, and a fat one too !" he cried, holding up 
 the game. "That is better than nothing." 
 
 They stirred around and soon found a nest of the 
 animals and killed two more. Then they put down 
 their guns and went out to find some firewood. It 
 was cold work, and they were half frozen by the time 
 they had a blaze started. They piled on several big 
 sticks of wood and soon began to warm up. 
 
 "This is not so bad but that it might be worse," 
 declared Dave, while they were preparing one of the 
 rabbits for supper. 
 
 Searching around they came across a small iron 
 pot. It was rusty, but they managed to scour it out, 
 and then melted some snow for drinking water. 
 One rabbit tasted so good that they cooked a second, 
 for the walk and the keen air had made them 
 tremendously hungry. They took their time over 
 the meal, for they had nothing else to do. 
 
 "I think I'll try to close up some of the openings," 
 
WOLVES, AND A SNOWSTORM I43 
 
 remarked Henry, after they had finished picking the 
 bones. "We can do it with cedar branches." 
 
 With their hunting knives they cut a quantity of 
 cedar branches and placed them in the broken-out 
 doors and windows of the old council-house. This 
 kept out most of the wind, and soon the temperature 
 rose so that it was far more comfortable within 
 than before. Then they brought in some more 
 wood for the fire, that the blaze might last through 
 the night. 
 
 "I suppose this was a well-known place at one 
 time," observed Dave, as he gazed around the struc- 
 ture. "What famous addresses the Indian chiefs 
 must have delivered here !" 
 
 "Yes, and what plans they laid to massacre the 
 whites," replied Henry. "If these walls could talk 
 they could tell some cruel stories, I'm thinking." 
 
 "Henry, I don't think the Indians are altogether 
 to blame." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because they haven't been treated just right, 
 that's why. The land used to belong to them." 
 
 "Humph! They never tilled it, did they? They 
 can't expect to let this fine soil lie in idleness for 
 century after century." 
 
 "But they had rights which neither the French 
 nor the English have respected." 
 
144 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Do you stick up for such a wily wretch as Pon- 
 tiac?" 
 
 "No, but I stick up for such a noble reel man as 
 White Buffalo." 
 
 "Oh, well, if they were all like White Buffalo 
 there wouldn't be any trouble." 
 
 They sat by the fire a good hour, talking about 
 the Indians, the departure of James Morris for the 
 trading post, and about the folks at home and other 
 matters. Then they grew sleepy, and lay down to 
 rest, never realizing the double peril so close at 
 hand. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 SAVED BY A WINDSTORM 
 
 The two young hunters had been asleep perhaps 
 ten minutes when a form stole forward from behind 
 a corner post in the old council-house. 
 
 The form was that of a young Seneca warrior, 
 Boka the Fox, a red man known for miles around for 
 his skill in hunting and fishing. No matter who 
 went out with him Boka the Fox usually got the 
 biggest turkey, the biggest deer, and very often the 
 biggest fish. 
 
 Boka the Fox was alone. He had been spying in 
 the vicinity of Fort Pitt, and was now on his way 
 westward to report what he had seen. The storm 
 had overtaken him, and fancy had caused him to 
 seek shelter in the deserted village. He had come 
 up just at the arrival of Dave and Henry and had 
 heard the gunshots when the rabbits were brought 
 down. 
 
 Despite the snowstorm, Boka the Fox waited 
 around patiently for some chance to do the whites an 
 injury. He had only his hunting knife with him — 
 
 145 
 
I46 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 a weapon taken from a murdered frontiersman some 
 months before. His bow had been broken the day 
 before and his tomahawk had been lost during a 
 wild flight to get away from some soldiers who had 
 seen him on the trail and fired several shots after his 
 retreating form. 
 
 Not to remain out in the howling storm — for the 
 wind was growing wilder every moment — Boka the 
 Fox had wormed his way into a small recess close 
 to the rude fireplace of which this council-house 
 boasted. I say boasted, for the majority of such 
 places had only an open place where a fire might be 
 built, the smoke rising directly to the outer air. 
 
 In his warm corner the red warrior waited 
 patiently for Dave and Henry to go to sleep. 
 Several times he was in danger of being discovered, 
 and he kept his hand on the handle of his knife, ready 
 to battle the instant he was seen. He heard every 
 word that was spoken, but understood only a 
 little. 
 
 The wind was now whistling shrilly around the 
 old council-house, causing the dilapidated building to 
 creak and groan and quiver from end to end. With 
 so much noise, Boka the Fox stepped forward boldly 
 to the center of the room. The fire was still bright, 
 and he could distinctly see the faces of the two 
 youths as they slept. 
 
"Boka must kill both before either awakens," murmured 
 the Indian. — Page 147. 
 
SAVED BY A WINDSTORM I47 
 
 "Boka must kill both before either awakens," mur- 
 mured the Indian in his native tongue. "Then he 
 can take their guns and all of their belongings and 
 fly as soon as the storm ceases." 
 
 He dropped the blanket he had been wearing, so 
 that he might be free to act, and draw himself up, 
 knife in hand, — a tall, slim figure, with a face full of 
 shrewdness and treachery. 
 
 As he took a step towards Dave the wind came 
 up once more, shaking the old building worse than 
 ever. Henry turned uneasily in his sleep, and gave 
 a deep sigh. The Indian turned toward the youth, 
 thinking to kill him before he had a chance to rouse 
 up. 
 
 There was now a sudden spell of silence — so un- 
 usual and so impressive that the Indian was com- 
 pelled to stop in his dastardly work and listen. It 
 was as if the wind had ceased utterly. 
 
 Then, with almost the quickness of lightning, 
 came a strange humming sound, accompanied by the 
 cracking of trees and tree-limbs, and the fierce pelt- 
 ing of hard snow as it swept along on the wings of a 
 tornado. The onrush of the elements was directly 
 for the old council-house, and in a twinkling the 
 building was caught up and fairly blown into the 
 air. 
 
 "Henry!" gasped Dave, as he found himself rolled 
 
I48 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 over and over in the snow. "What in the world is 
 this?" 
 
 There was no answer — indeed, no answer could 
 have been heard above that terrible shrieking and 
 humming of the wind. In the path of the tornado 
 the trees were being mowed down from one end of 
 the forest to the other. Branches were flying in all 
 directions, and when Dave tried to rise he found 
 himself powerless to do so. He was rolled over and 
 over again, and at last brought up against a tree- 
 stump, out of breath and completely bewildered. 
 
 Inside of five minutes the tornado was a thing of 
 the past and the wind died down to a moderate 
 breeze. The fire that had been built in the old 
 council-house had been blown in a heap between two 
 old tree-stumps and was still blazing away, thus 
 affording some light. Where the two youths had 
 been sleeping were half a dozen broken and twisted 
 tree-limbs, partly covered with snow. 
 
 It took Dave some little time to recover his 
 breath. He had to feel of himself, to make sure 
 that no limbs were broken. He looked around for 
 Henry, but his cousin was nowhere in sight. 
 
 "Henry!" he called, loudly. "Where are you? 
 Henry !" 
 
 He repeated the cry many times, walking slowly 
 around the wreck of the council-house and among 
 
SAVED BY A WINDSTORM 1 49 
 
 the trees which had been blown down in that vicinity. 
 At last came a faint response, and running in the 
 direction of the sound he found poor Henry wedged 
 under some heavy tree-branches. 
 
 "Tak — take them off!" gasped the prisoner. "I 
 — I can hardly breathe." 
 
 To remove the big limbs was impossible, but after 
 a good deal of maneuvering, Dave managed to raise 
 one branch a little and Henry crawled through the 
 snow from underneath. Then he sat on the branch 
 panting for breath. 
 
 "It's a windstorm," said Dave. "About the worst 
 I ever saw." 
 
 "Whe — where is the house?" 
 
 "Gone — the wind took it up like a kite. Henry, 
 we can be thankful that we weren't killed." 
 
 "You are right. Oh, how my breast hurts !" 
 
 "Any ribs broken, do you think ?" 
 
 "No, I think I — I am scraped more than anything 
 else," answered the injured one. 
 
 As the fire was in a safe place, Dave stirred it up 
 and helped Henry to a spot where he might keep 
 warm. Then Dave dragged some tree-branches up 
 in a semicircle, to keep off what little was left of the 
 wind. 
 
 "We'll have to look for our guns and traps," said 
 Henry. "Have you any idea where they are?" 
 
I50 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "They can't be far off, Henry. But why not wait 
 until morning?" 
 
 "It's not safe. Some wild animal might attack 
 us." 
 
 Taking a firebrand Dave made a torch of it and 
 began a hunt. Soon he came across Henry's rifle 
 and other things. Then he brought out of the snow 
 a hunting knife. 
 
 "Hullo ! Whose hunting knife is this ?" he asked, 
 examining it carefully. "Henry, you didn't have 
 this, did you?" 
 
 "I did not," was the answer. "I never saw it 
 before. Let me see. It's got the initials R. D. C. 
 on it. I don't know anybody by those letters, do 
 you?" 
 
 "Old Dick Capenfeld. He was killed by the 
 Indians several weeks ago." 
 
 "I'd like to know how the knife got here." 
 
 The young hunters looked the blade over, and 
 then both sat down by the fire. Presently Henry 
 feel asleep once more, and after a bit Dave followed 
 his example. 
 
 When they awoke it was dawn, and the storm 
 had cleared away completely. The fire had died 
 down, but it was easily replenished, and then both 
 of the youths began a systematic hunt for the rest 
 of their belongings. Henry declared that he felt 
 
SAVED BY A WINDSTORM I 5 I 
 
 all right, saving for a certain stiffness across 
 the chest, where the tree-limb had held him 
 down. 
 
 Dave was stirring among some heavy tree- 
 branches when he leaped back with a loud cry. 
 
 "An Indian!" 
 
 "An Indian ! Where ?" came from Henry, and 
 he caught up his rifle. 
 
 "Here — between the tree-limbs. I — I reckon he 
 is dead." 
 
 Henry ran to the spot, and both of the young 
 hunters gazed at Boka the Fox. The tornado had 
 caught up the Indian and landed him head-first in 
 the branches of a tree laid low by the mighty wind. 
 In turning over the red warrior had been unable to 
 save himself, and his neck had been broken, killing 
 him instantly. 
 
 "This beats the kingdom !" cried Dave. "Henry, 
 that Indian must have been on hand when the tor- 
 nado occurred!" 
 
 "Like as not he was watching us." 
 
 "And maybe he was going to kill us." 
 
 "The finding of that hunting knife makes it look 
 that way, Dave." 
 
 "Perhaps there are more near by." 
 
 The two young hunters looked around without 
 delay — Henry holding his rifle ready for use, 
 
152 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 should a warrior appear. They were greatly upset 
 and did not quiet down for half an hour. 
 
 "He must have been alone," said Henry, at last. 
 "Where he came from there is no telling. Well, 
 if he was going to kill us, it was a lucky thing 
 that the tornado came along as it did and stopped 
 him." 
 
 They continued their search in the snow and 
 among the fallen trees, and presently uncovered 
 Dave's rifle and the rest of the traps, and also the 
 last of the rabbits. This they spitted over the fire 
 and ate for breakfast. 
 
 "Now we may as well get back to the fort — 
 before another storm overtakes us," said Henry. 
 
 "What about the Indian?" 
 
 "Leave him where he is. I reckon the wolves will 
 take care of him. I am not going to bother myself 
 on his account." 
 
 "I hope the tornado didn't overtake father and his 
 party," went on Dave. "It's a wonder we weren't 
 killed." 
 
 "Yes, we can certainly be thankful, — not only 
 because we escaped from the windstorm, but for es- 
 caping from that Indian." 
 
 The wind had swept the snow into great drifts or 
 ridges, and they knew they would have to make wide 
 detours in order to escape the worst of these piles. 
 
SAVED BY A WINDSTORM 1 53 
 
 They kicked out the fire, picked up their traps and 
 the blanket of the dead Indian, and set out. 
 
 It was a hard, exhausting journey, and they often 
 stopped to rest. On their way they saw in the dis- 
 tance a small deer, stalled in a snowdrift, and Henry 
 could not resist the temptation to fire. The deer 
 leaped into the air, threw up a flurry of snow, and 
 then disappeared from view. 
 
 "There's something to take to the fort !" cried the 
 young hunter. 
 
 "It will be all we can carry," observed Dave. 
 
 "What ! you wouldn't leave a deer behind, would 
 you?" questioned Henry, reproachfully. 
 
 "Oh, no." 
 
 With care they worked their way around to where 
 the deer had disappeared in the snow. To do this 
 they had to cross a hollow, where they sank up to 
 their waists. 
 
 "Look out, or you'll get stuck!" sang out Dave, 
 and just then Henry sank to his armpits. He 
 floundered around a good deal before he emerged 
 from the hollow, blowing like a winded ox. 
 
 The deer had fallen over a small cliff, and they had 
 something of a task raising it up. But at last they 
 had the game secure, and they carried it between 
 them, slung on a long, slender pole. 
 
 "Hurrah! I see the fort!" cried Dave, an hour 
 
154 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 later, as they drew to the top of a long hill. "The 
 worst of the trip is over." 
 
 He was right, and by noon they reached Fort Pitt. 
 They were glad to rest and eat a hearty dinner, after 
 which they told their story. The effects of the 
 windstorm had been felt at the fort, but no great 
 damage had been done. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE JOURNEY TO THE TRADING POST 
 
 Leaving Dave and Henry at Fort Pitt, let us shift 
 the scene further westward and note how James 
 Morris and his party fared on their way towards 
 the trading post on the Ohio River. 
 
 The party felt the full effects of the snowstorm, 
 and had to go into a temporary camp. The wind, 
 however, hardly touched them, and they were left in 
 ignorance of the great damage done in other direc- 
 tions. 
 
 "'Tis lucky we brought our snowshoes with us," 
 said Peaceful Jones. "With such a fall, most of our 
 traveling will have to be with the shoes on." 
 
 They had gone into camp under some overhang- 
 ing rocks, where a big fire had kept them warm. 
 The old trappers had brought down a deer and some 
 rabbits, so they did not suffer for the want of food, 
 having brought along two slabs of bacon, some beans 
 and flour, and likewise a few cooking utensils. 
 
 On the morning after the snowstorm they set off 
 early, and by the middle of the afternoon found 
 
 155 
 
156 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 themselves ten miles further on their journey in the 
 direction of the post. It had been hard work to 
 travel on the snowshoes, over a trail which was all 
 but obliterated, and Pomeroy requested that they 
 rest again. 
 
 "I've been a-loafin' around thet fort so much I 
 ain't got my walkin' legs yit," was the manner in 
 which he expressed himself. "Maybe I'll hev 'em 
 by ter-morrer." 
 
 "I fancy we all need the rest," answered James 
 Morris. "I am stiff myself. We'll get used to the 
 snowshoes in a day or two." 
 
 They searched for another resting-place, and 
 James Morris found a spot he had used for that 
 purpose when he had first gone west — to establish 
 himself on the Kinotah. 
 
 "That seems a long time ago," said the trader, to 
 Tony Jadwin. "And think of all that has happened 
 since ! The war with France, and the capture of 
 Fort Pitt, Niagara, Quebec, Montreal, and a number 
 of other places, and then this war with Pontiac and 
 the tribes under him. Surely, Tony, we can be 
 thankful that we live to tell about it." 
 
 "Yes," answered the trapper addressed. "And 
 think of the fights at the old trading post and then at 
 the new one ! And we ain't done yet, I am sorry to 
 say." 
 
THE JOURNEY TO THE TRADING POST 1 57 
 
 "Sometimes I wonder if it is worth all the trouble 
 and risk," continued James Morris. "I have gained 
 a little, but it has cost me dear." 
 
 "I'd never give in to the Indians or to them 
 Frenchmen, Mr. Morris. Why, if you give 'em a 
 pound they'll want a thousand." 
 
 "I know that." 
 
 "The land in the west belongs to the English now, 
 and a fair share of it is yours. Those Indians and 
 those Frenchmen have got to leave us alone, an' the 
 sooner they learn the lesson the better," concluded 
 Tony Jadwin. 
 
 The new resting-place was where some tall trees 
 grew on the very edge of a cliff. One tree had 
 fallen, and its gigantic roots hung over the cliff, 
 forming a network over which it was easy to place 
 some pine branches. As the cliff was hollowed out 
 just beyond the trees, this left a space about eight 
 feet deep by twenty feet long where they could make 
 themselves comfortable. Against the rocks they 
 built a fire, the smoke escaping through some crev- 
 ices. They cooked themselves a haunch of venison 
 and some beans and biscuits, and took their own time 
 about eating. All went to sleep as soon as it grew 
 dark, knowing that a long, hard tramp lay before 
 them at daybreak. 
 
 The travelers were destined not to be allowed to 
 
158 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 rest undisturbed. James Morris slept several hours 
 when he was awakened by having a cold nose pressed 
 against his face. He opened his eyes and sat up and 
 at the same instant heard a low growl. 
 
 "A bear!" he yelled, as loudly as he could. "A 
 bear! Two of them!" 
 
 The trader was right — two full-grown bears had 
 entered the camp, evidently attracted by the smell of 
 venison and bacon. As James Morris arose the 
 bears retreated to another part of the shelter, one 
 stepping directly upon Peaceful Jones. 
 
 "Git orf o' me, ye sinner!" gasped the frontiers- 
 man, wrathfully. "Git orf, I say!" And then as 
 the bear backed away, he reached for his rifle and 
 tried to take aim. But Mr. Morris was in the way, 
 and he did not dare to pull the trigger. 
 
 By this time the whole camp was in an uproar. 
 Tony Jadwin tried to rise, but just as he did so one 
 of the bears ran against him, pitching him down in 
 such a fashion that one hand went into the smolder- 
 ing fire. 
 
 "Great hamstrings!" roared the trapper, wiping 
 the hot ashes from his hand. "What's this mean? 
 Two b'ars, eh? Shoot 'em, somebody! Shoot 
 'em!" 
 
 The bears were now evidently as much frightened 
 as those who had been asleep, and tumbling against 
 
THE JOURNEY TO THE TRADING POST 1 59 
 
 the rocks and the tree-roots they got out of the 
 shelter and ran off along a stretch which the wind 
 had swept clear of snow. The commotion made 
 some dirt and snow fall on the fire, practically ex- 
 tinguishing it. 
 
 "Stir up that fire, Pomeroy," said James Morris, 
 as soon as something like quietness had been re- 
 stored. The man addressed did so and piled on some 
 light brushwood, so that they might look around 
 them. They found much in disorder, and soon 
 made the discovery that the bears had carried off 
 every pound of the meat. 
 
 "They didn't do it just now," said Tony Jadwin. 
 "They must have made two trips o' it. Likely they 
 didn't get enough the first time. Drat the luck, any- 
 way! We kin shoot some more venison, but we 
 can't git no bacon, an' bacon is what I like best." 
 In those days deer meat was so plentiful among the 
 hunters that many grew tired of eating it, just as 
 many farmers to-day get tired of eating chickens. 
 
 Had it been daylight some of the party would 
 have been in favor of following the bears up and 
 shooting them. But this was voted out of the ques- 
 tion in the darkness, and so they retired once more, 
 leaving one man, however, to remain on guard and 
 attend to the fire. 
 
 The next day the weather remained clear and the 
 
l6o TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 sun made the snow pack down a trifle, so that it be- 
 came easier to walk on snowshoes. The route lay 
 over several hills and then along a frozen water- 
 course where the ice was as smooth as glass. 
 
 "You want to be careful here," observed Pom- 
 eroy. "This ice ain't so hard as it looks. We ain't 
 had much winter, outside o' the snowstorm." 
 
 They followed the stream until they came to a 
 bend, and then started to cross over. Tony Jadwin 
 was in advance, when he heard a shout from Peace- 
 ful Jones. 
 
 "A deer!" 
 
 All looked and saw the deer, but a long distance 
 off. Anxious to get a shot. Peaceful Jones started 
 along the river bank on the icy snow. He had gone 
 only a few steps, when they suddenly saw him 
 throw up his hands and disappear from view. 
 
 "Hello! What does that mean?" exclaimed 
 James Morris. "Was he shot?" 
 
 "Either thet or he went through a hole," answered 
 one of the other men. 
 
 All brought their rifles around, ready for use, and 
 then started toward the spot where the trapper had 
 disappeared so suddenly. They saw a hole in the 
 snow. 
 
 "He is down there !" cried James Morris. "Come, 
 we must get him out." 
 
"I think we had better take turns watching," said Henry. 
 Page 49. 
 
THE JOURNEY TO THE TRADING POST l6l 
 
 This was easier said than done. The hole was 
 ten or twelve feet deep. The men on the surface 
 of the snow joined hands, and thus held James 
 Morris from falling in as the trader bent over the 
 hole. Looking down, he could see Jones below, 
 spluttering wildly. 
 
 "Sa — sa — save me !" were his first words. The 
 man was so chilled that he could do scarcely more 
 than chatter. 
 
 "We will," answered James Morris. 
 
 He directed the last man on the line to pass for- 
 ward a rifle, and he took hold of the barrel of this, 
 while he allowed Peaceful Jones to grasp the stock. 
 Then James Morris began to pull, and Peaceful 
 Jones came up, over the edge of the hole, and was 
 quickly drawn to a place of safety. 
 
 The man was so chilled that the others lost no time 
 in building a big fire, in the meantime covering him 
 with a blanket. Then, while he was getting warm, 
 Pomeroy went fishing with a stick and some lines, 
 and after a lot of trouble succeeded in bringing up 
 Jones's rifle. 
 
 "I was a-lookin' at the deer, an' didn't see 
 the hole," was the explanation the trapper gave 
 of his mishap. "After this I'll look whar I'm 
 steppin'." 
 
 "Ye had better," was Pomeroy's comment. "'Cos 
 
162 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 it might be as thar wouldn't be nobuddy around to 
 help ye out ag'in !" 
 
 The river left behind, they passed on directly to 
 the region where the first trading post had been 
 located. This was still suffering from the effects of 
 the burn-over, although here and there a few trees 
 and bushes had sprouted out during the past sum- 
 mer. 
 
 "It was a fine spot," said James Morris, as he 
 stood and surveyed the site of the old post. "A fine 
 spot. But it is no good now, and will not be for 
 years to come." 
 
 "As good as it was, the site of the new post is 
 better," answered Tony Jadwin. "In fact, I think 
 that the new spot is the finest in this section of the 
 country." 
 
 "And I suppose that is why Jean Bevoir wishes to 
 get possession of it," went on the trader, with a trace 
 of bitterness in his tones. 
 
 "Jean Bevoir knows a good thing when he sees it," 
 said Peaceful Jones. "He's about ez wise ez he is 
 wicked." 
 
 "I think his party must have passed this way," put 
 in Pomeroy, who had been walking around. 
 "Thar's been a camp in yonder trees not long ago — 
 I kin tell it by the fresh-burnt sticks." 
 
 "Perhaps some Indians have been here," said 
 
THE JOURNEY TO THE TRADING POST 163 
 
 James Morris. "Bevoir and his followers must have 
 reached the trading post long ago." 
 
 "Not if they were stopped on the way." 
 
 At this remark a sudden hope sprang into the 
 breast of the trader. 
 
 "It would be a fine thing if he had been stopped 
 and we could get there first!" he cried. "But I am 
 afraid that is hoping for too much. However, let 
 us not linger here, but move forward at once." 
 
 The others were willing, and without delay the 
 journey down to the Ohio was resumed. Every 
 foot of the way was familiar to all of the party, and 
 one or the other took the lead, over trails which their 
 feet had trod in times of war as well as in peace. 
 
 "The Ohio at last !" said James Morris, at noon of 
 the next day. "I am glad to see this broad stream 
 once more." 
 
 They were now within a few miles of the trading 
 post, and all hurried forward with much interest, 
 curious to learn what they should find when they 
 arrived there. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 RUNNING INTO A TRAP 
 
 "There is the post!" 
 
 It was James Morris who said this. He was 
 slightly in advance of the others, and coming around 
 a bend of the Ohio River caught sight of the place 
 which had cost him so much hard work to establish. 
 
 As my old readers know, the trading post proper 
 was a substantial building of heavy logs, containing 
 four rooms, the main one of which was usually 
 devoted to trading with the trappers and Indians. 
 Near by was a storehouse of two rooms, with a 
 stable attached for horses and cattle. 
 
 The site of the trading post was a small bluff 
 fronting the broad Ohio, and not far away was a 
 gurgling brook, with some rough rocks beyond. 
 The buildings and grounds were surrounded by a 
 strong palisade of sharpened logs, containing, at a 
 convenient point, a gate ten feet in width, locked by 
 two heavy crossbars. The palisade contained many 
 loopholes for shooting purposes in case of attack. 
 Around the outside of the palisade the ground had 
 
 164 
 
RUNNING INTO A TRAP l6$ 
 
 been cleared for a short distance, but otherwise, ex- 
 cepting for the river, the unbroken forest stretched 
 for many miles. To-day this same locality is dotted 
 with rich farms and villages, with a railroad running 
 through it, and where the canoes of Indians and 
 white hunters used to ride there now plow steam- 
 boats and tugboats. And yet this was but a hundred 
 and forty-odd years ago! What wonderful strides 
 our country is making, and who can imagine what 
 the next hundred and forty years will bring forth? 
 
 James Morris called a halt, and all gathered 
 around him, wondering what the next move was to 
 be. They looked toward the trading post. The 
 great gate of the palisade was wide open and there 
 appeared to be no sign of life anywhere. 
 
 "Looks deserted, don't it?" remarked Tony Jad- 
 win. He had helped to erect the place and knew 
 every nook and corner as well as did its owner. 
 
 "It certainly does," answered James Morris. 
 "But we must not take too much for granted." 
 
 "'Pears like I kin see tracks in the snow, near the 
 gate," remarked Peaceful Jones. "What do ye 
 think on't, Pomeroy?" 
 
 "Some tracks thar certain, but the wind has swept 
 'em so ye can't tell ef they belong to man or beast." 
 
 "Let us walk through the forest and look at the 
 other side of the place," said James Morris, and this 
 
l66 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 was done. Try their best they could see nobody, 
 and from the branches of a tree Tony Jadwin an- 
 nounced that the door to the main building stood 
 wide open. 
 
 "Then it's empty," said Pomeroy. "Because, if 
 anybuddy war thar, they'd shet it in sech weather as 
 this." 
 
 At last James Morris concluded to venture 
 through the gate, and did so, gun in hand, and fol- 
 lowed by the others. A look around the broad 
 grounds revealed nobody, and with a heart that beat 
 strangely, the trader advanced toward the main 
 building. 
 
 "Ho ! Within there !" he called out, sharply. 
 
 He waited, but there was no answer, nor did any- 
 body appear. 
 
 "Reckon we've got it all to ourselves," said Pom- 
 eroy. "Either Bevoir an' his crowd ain't got here 
 yit, or else they are out on a hunt, or somethin' else." 
 
 "I'll soon make sure," said Tony Jadwin, and 
 entered the main building, and James Morris fol- 
 lowed him. It was rather dark within, and for the 
 moment they could see next to nothing. Jadwin 
 walked to one side of the room, while the trader 
 stepped to the doorway of the next room. In the 
 meanwhile Pomeroy entered also, leaving only 
 Peaceful Jones outside. 
 
RUNNING INTO A TRAP 167 
 
 It was then that the scene changed as if by magic. 
 From several places of concealment Jean Bevoir, 
 Benoit Vascal, and a number of Indians under Moon 
 Eye leaped forth and fell upon the three newcomers. 
 James Morris was sent flat on the floor, face down- 
 ward, so that he could not use his gun, and Tony 
 Jadwin received a blow from a club that stretched 
 him lifeless. Two Indians pounced upon Pomeroy, 
 who uttered a loud cry for assistance. A moment 
 later a tomahawk split Pomeroy's skull in twain, kill- 
 ing him instantly. 
 
 Peaceful Jones ran forward and was just in time 
 to see Pomeroy go down, with the hatchet still stick- 
 ing in his head. He fired at one of the Indians, 
 shooting him through the heart. Then a rifle rang 
 out within the building, and Peaceful Jones felt a 
 bullet graze his shoulder. 
 
 "Come on out o' thet!" he roared. "This is too 
 hot fer us !" 
 
 "Save yourself!" came faintly from James Morris. 
 "We are trapped ! They mean to massacre us !" 
 
 His cries were cut short by two pistol shots. 
 Then followed sounds of several blows, and James 
 Morris appeared at the doorway, his face covered 
 with blood. He took one more step forward, and 
 with a gasp sank down in a heap. 
 
 From the storehouse now poured half a dozen 
 
l68 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Indians, armed with bows and arrows and toma- 
 hawks. Realizing that it would be useless to fight 
 such a number of the enemy, and satisfied in his own 
 mind that all of his companions were either killed or 
 mortally wounded, Peaceful Jones turned and ran 
 for the rear of the main building. Three arrows 
 whizzed beside him, and a bullet from a pistol flew 
 close to his ear. 
 
 "After heem! He must not escape!" came in 
 the voice of Jean Bevoir. "Ve must keel dem all !" 
 
 Reaching the back of the main building, Peaceful 
 Jones did not pause. In the snow lay some brush- 
 wood, and he caught up a branch of this, and, hold- 
 ing it behind him, continued to run. Two more 
 arrows were sent after him and lodged in the tree- 
 branch, thus saving him from further injury. 
 
 As he came close to the corner of the palisade he 
 wondered what he had best do next. The Indians 
 were after him hot-footed and so was one of the 
 Frenchmen. He felt that to make a stand would 
 mean certain death. 
 
 He had thus far gained a spot used the year before 
 for sawing and splitting wood. A big saw-buck 
 was still standing there, and he picked it up with ease 
 and continued to run. Reaching the palisade, he 
 stood the saw-buck up on one end and climbed to the 
 top. 
 
RUNNING INTO A TRAP 169 
 
 "Stop!" roared a voice, in French, and a rifle rang 
 out. The bullet this time struck Peaceful Jones in 
 the left shoulder, inflicting an ugly and painful 
 wound. He gave a grunt, mounted the sharp points 
 of the palisade, and dropped outside. Then, with 
 all the strength that was left to him, he started for 
 the nearest patch of timber, sixty yards distant. As 
 he entered the timber some more arrows flew to- 
 wards him, but went shy of their mark. 
 
 The trapper was now weak from the loss of blood, 
 which was flowing down from his shoulder to his 
 hand. But he staggered on, knowing that he now 
 had no time to stop and bind up his wound. He 
 rushed straight into the forest and staggered onward 
 until he came to a clump of low-branched trees. 
 Then, to "cut the trail," as it was called, he pulled 
 himself up into the trees by his uninjured arm and 
 climbed from one tree to another, and so on, until a 
 hundred feet had been covered. Then he dropped 
 on some rocks, which the wind had swept clear of 
 snow, and went forward as before, gritting his 
 teeth, to keep himself from fainting from loss of 
 blood. 
 
 It was well for Peaceful Jones that night was com- 
 ing on, and in the depths of the forest it was growing 
 dark. Plucky though he was to the last degree, he 
 was but human, and now felt that he might drop 
 
17O TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 from sheer exhaustion at any moment. He looked 
 for some sort of a hiding-place, and reaching a cedar 
 tree growing in a split of the rocks, dove under it. 
 
 For a good quarter of an hour the trapper did 
 little but hold his hand tightly over his wound and 
 pant for breath, leaning against the tree in the mean- 
 while with eyes closed. He could do nothing more 
 to save himself, and was in that condition of mind 
 when capture or escape meant little or nothing to 
 him. 
 
 But as his breath came back to him, and none of 
 the Indians or Frenchmen appeared, a spark of hope 
 came to his breast. He tore off his heavy coat and 
 his hunting shirt and examined the wound from 
 which he had suffered the most. The bullet had 
 passed directly through the flesh and some lint was 
 sticking in the wound. He took out the lint, cleaned 
 the wound with soft snow, and bound it up as best 
 he could with a handkerchief and a bandage he 
 carried for emergencies. Then he drew on his hunt- 
 ing shirt once more and his coat, closed his eyes, 
 and fell back in a sort of stupor. 
 
 It was pitch-dark when Peaceful Jones came to 
 himself once more. At a distance he heard a mur- 
 mur of voices. Some Indians and a Frenchman 
 were holding a conversation. 
 
 "I can see nothing of a trail," said one of the 
 
RUNNING INTO A TRAP 171 
 
 Indians, in his native tongue. "I doubt if he came 
 this way." 
 
 "He must not be allowed to get away," said the 
 Frenchman, also in the Indian tongue. "Dead men 
 are best, since they tell no tales." 
 
 "Are the others all dead?" asked another Indian. 
 
 "Dead or dying." 
 
 "It was lucky that Moon Eye discovered their 
 coming in time," said the first Indian who had 
 spoken. "We set a nice trap for them." 
 
 The Indians and the Frenchman continued to talk, 
 in the meantime moving away from the cedar tree, 
 so that Peaceful Jones made out no more of the 
 conversation. He himself could speak the Indian 
 language and understood every word that had been 
 spoken. 
 
 The news filled his heart with grief. All his com- 
 panions were either dead or dying and the enemy 
 were doing their best to find and slay him. He felt 
 that only by the help of Providence would he be 
 enabled to escape. He was not a very religious man, 
 but he breathed a silent prayer to Heaven that he 
 might be spared, if for no other purpose than to 
 carry the sad news back to Fort Pitt. 
 
 An hour went by, and the Indians and the French- 
 man left the vicinity entirely. But then came some- 
 thing else to disturb and alarm him. 
 
172 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 A small bear stepped into view, sniffing the air 
 suspiciously- His den was among the rocks close to 
 the cedar under which the hunter was resting. He 
 came forward slowly, as if knowing by instinct that 
 all was not right. 
 
 At first Peaceful Jones was alarmed, then a sudden 
 grim smile came to his bronzed features. He drew 
 his long hunting knife and waited for the bear to 
 come within striking distance. 
 
 "Your life or mine — an' it ain't goin' to be me ef 
 I kin help it," he muttered to himself. 
 
 The bear came to the cedar and pushed a branch 
 aside with his nose. Like lightning, Peaceful Jones 
 leaped forward and made a plunge with his hunting 
 knife. Then the blade was withdrawn and slashed 
 rapidly across the animal's throat. There was a 
 grunt, a gasp, and the animal fell down in its tracks, 
 gave a convulsive shudder, and lay dead. 
 
 Weak as he was, the old trapper managed to draw 
 the game under the cedar and kicked some fresh 
 snow over the spot where the blood had flowed. 
 Then he took his hunting knife, cut out a piece of 
 bear meat, and began to suck and gnaw upon it like 
 some wild animal. It was a primitive meal, and 
 might have made another person sick, but it satisfied 
 him and gave him strength, — and strength was what 
 he needed above anything else. 
 
RUNNING INTO A TRAP 1 73 
 
 The morning brought a light snowstorm, for 
 which he was thankful, since it would cover up his 
 tracks. As soon as he felt able to do so, he cut him- 
 self a big chunk of the bear meat, slung it over his 
 shoulder, and set off, in the direction of the Kinotah. 
 He plunged directly into the great forest, afraid to 
 take to any of the trails leading eastward for fear 
 he would run into the enemy once again. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE SHOOTING CONTEST 
 
 To Dave and Henry, left at Fort Pitt, the days 
 passed slowly. Occasionally they went out hunting, 
 with fair success, but, warned by Captain Ecuyer, 
 did not venture far away. They waited patiently 
 for some word from Rodney, and some word from 
 Dave's father, but no news came to them. 
 
 "I hope Rodney got home in safety," said Henry, 
 one day. "I don't see why we don't hear from him." 
 
 "I wish father would send some word," answered 
 Dave. "I am beginning to grow anxious." 
 
 October slipped into November, and winter was 
 now on them in earnest. It snowed a great deal, 
 and Fort Pitt was cut off from communication in all 
 directions. The soldiers scarcely knew what to do 
 with themselves, and the settlers who had gone to 
 the stronghold for protection were also weary of the 
 confinement. 
 
 To pass the time some of the men one day got up 
 a shooting contest, and asked Dave and Henry to 
 join. The youths were willing, and paid the ad- 
 
 174 
 
THE SHOOTING CONTEST 1 75 
 
 mission fee, two shillings. The first prize was a 
 silver mug, the second prize a fancy bullet-mold, and 
 the third a new hunting knife. 
 
 Among the soldiers to participate in the contest 
 were two named Gasway and Pelton. Both were 
 beefy Englishmen, from London, who had come over 
 the year before. Each was given to boasting, and 
 each felt certain of winning either the first or the 
 second prize. 
 
 "What! you boys going to compete!" cried Gas- 
 way, to Dave, disdainfully. "Sure, 'twill be good 
 money thrown away." 
 
 "Perhaps we'll not do so badly," said Dave, net- 
 tled by Gasway's superior manner. 
 
 "The first prize will go to me and the second to 
 my friend Pelton," went on the English soldier. 
 "I take it you chits will be at the end of the list." 
 
 Left to himself, Dave sought out his cousin and 
 told him what Gasway had said. Henry smiled 
 grimly. 
 
 "He had better do his crowing after the shooting, 
 not before, Dave." 
 
 "I wish we could beat him, and beat Pelton, too." 
 
 "Well, we can try." 
 
 The contest was to come off on the following 
 afternoon. The day proved clear, and a goodly 
 number of those stationed at the fort gathered to 
 
176 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 witness the shooting. The target, a large affair of 
 wood, with several rings and a bull's-eye, was nailed 
 to a tree, and a stump marked the spot where each 
 contestant must stand while shooting. Each con- 
 testant was to have three shots, and the highest pos- 
 sible score was eighteen points. 
 
 The first soldier to shoot, a man named Pepperley, 
 made two points with his first shot. Another made 
 three, and another five. Then came Gasway, who 
 made five also, and Pelton, who made six. 
 
 "Now, Dave," said Henry, and Dave stepped to 
 the front, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger. 
 
 "Four!" announced the officer who was keeping 
 the tally. 
 
 Dave was a trifle disappointed, as he had hoped 
 to make at least five. Yet he managed to smile as he 
 turned to Henry. 
 
 "You can do better than that, I know," he said. 
 
 Two other marksmen now came to the front, 
 making four each. Then it was Henry's turn. 
 
 The youth took his time about shooting, and when 
 the smoke cleared away a shout went up : 
 
 "A bull's-eye for Henry Morris !" 
 
 "Good — that counts six for you, Henry!" ex- 
 claimed Dave. 
 
 Soon the men were shooting for the second time. 
 Dave got a bull's-eye and Henry a five, giving them 
 
"A bull's-eye for Henry Morris!" — Page 176. 
 
THE SHOOTING CONTEST 1 77 
 
 10 and 1 1 respectively. Strange to say Gas way and 
 Pel ton also scored 10 and n, so the friends on each 
 side were a tie. The other marksmen got from 8 
 to 10 each. 
 
 Those to make the highest scores were to shoot 
 last, and as a consequence Dave was pitted against a 
 soldier named Brocaw and against Gasway, while 
 Henry was pitted against Pelton. 
 
 Brocaw was the first to shoot and made a four, 
 much to his disgust. 
 
 "You go next," said Gasway to Dave. 
 
 "Toss up for it," said the officer who was judg- 
 ing the contest, and the toss of a penny sent Gasway 
 to the front. He was a trifle nervous and took so 
 long to shoot that some friends jeered at him. 
 
 "Five!" called out the judge, when the shot had 
 been taken. 
 
 "Now, Dave, make a bull's-eye!" cried Henry. 
 
 It must be confessed that Dave was also nervous, 
 although he did his best to conceal it. This time he 
 raised his rifle quickly and blazed away before any- 
 body expected it. 
 
 "A bull's-eye, sure enough !" 
 
 "That gives him two points above Brocaw and one 
 point above Gasway !" 
 
 The toss of the penny now brought Pelton to the 
 front, and he shot with great care, yet all he could 
 
178 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 make was a five, which gave him a total of 16 points, 
 just what Dave had. 
 
 "Now, Henry, a bull's-eye sure," said Dave. 
 
 "More likely he'll make a three," sneered Gasway. 
 He was disgusted because of his own showing. 
 
 Henry was cool, for his nerves seldom bothered 
 him. He took aim with great deliberation, and hit 
 the target exactly in the center. 
 
 "Seventeen points for Henry Morris!" was the 
 cry. 
 
 "He takes the first prize !" 
 
 "He certainly can shoot, even if he is young." 
 
 It was decided that Dave Morris and Ike Pelton 
 should have one more shot each, the one coming 
 nearest to the center of the target taking the second 
 prize and the other taking the third prize. The toss 
 made Pelton shoot first. All of the other shots on 
 the target were chalked over, so that there might 
 be no mistakes in scoring. 
 
 This time Pelton took more care than ever in 
 shooting, and as a consequence put his bullet directly 
 on the inner ring, — something which, though be- 
 tween 5 and 6, would count the higher number. 
 
 "I fancy the youngster can't beat that," said Gas- 
 way. 
 
 "Don't be so sure," answered a soldier who 
 favored Dave. 
 
THE SHOOTING CONTEST IjQ 
 
 Dave's heart thumped loudly in his breast as he 
 stepped up beside the tree-stump. But he kept out- 
 wardly calm and did what he could to steady his 
 arms. He took one good look at the target, raised 
 his rifle, and fired. The smoke cleared away and 
 there was a second of silence. 
 
 "Amiss!" 
 
 "What !" cried Dave and Henry, in a breath. 
 
 "The bullet does not seem to have touched the 
 target," announced the judge. 
 
 "Oh, I must have hit the target!" went on Dave. 
 "Why, I aimed as carefully as before, when I made 
 16 in three shots." 
 
 "Can't help it. The target has not been touched. 
 You can see for yourself." 
 
 Dave ran forward, and so did all of the others. 
 There was Pelton's shot and all of the others', each 
 marked with chalk. 
 
 "I know wot he did!" shouted one old frontiers- 
 man. 
 
 "And so do I !" added Henry, triumphantly. "It's 
 been done before, too." 
 
 "What?" came in a chorus. 
 
 "His bullet is on top of mine, directly in the center 
 of the bull's-eye." 
 
 "Can that be possible?" cried the officer in charge. 
 "We'll soon see." 
 
l8o TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 He got out his penknife and began to dig at the 
 hole in the middle of the target. Soon one bullet 
 came up, and another was revealed beneath it. 
 
 "Dave Morris gets the second prize, and Pelton 
 takes third !" 
 
 "And Gasway and the others get nothing," said 
 one of the soldiers. "Gasway, maybe you won't 
 blow so much after this." 
 
 "Bah ! The shooting didn't amount to much 
 anyway!" growled Gasway, and lost no time in get- 
 ting out of sight. But he never said anything more 
 to Dave or Henry about target shooting, nor did 
 Pelton mention the subject. 
 
 After that Henry was urged to try his hand at 
 long-distance shooting. To please his friends he 
 complied, and made several remarkable shots, which 
 called forth praise from Captain Ecuyer and many 
 others. 
 
 "I know of nobody who can shoot better than 
 you," said the commandant of the fort. 
 
 "I know one man who can — the man who taught 
 me," answered the youth. 
 
 "And who is he?" 
 
 "Sam Barringford. I don't know if he can do 
 any better at a target, but he can best me in shooting 
 at running game or flying birds. He is remarkably 
 quick that way." 
 
THE SHOOTING CONTEST 151 
 
 "But you must be able to hit a bird on the 
 wing." 
 
 "I can generally. Once in a while I miss," an- 
 swered Henry. 
 
 "But not often," said Dave. "He is the best hun- 
 ter in our family, by a good deal," he added, warmly. 
 
 "Well, you can do a little too," said Captain 
 Ecuyer, with a laugh. 
 
 The shooting had taken place in a clearing 
 behind Fort Pitt. The party was about to 
 return to the fort, when a sudden shouting was 
 heard. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Captain Ecuyer, 
 quickly. 
 
 "Somebody is coming down the trail !" 
 
 "A messenger! A messenger!" was the cry. 
 
 "It is Peaceful Jones !" 
 
 The report proved true; it was indeed Peaceful 
 Jones who was coming along the trail leading from 
 the west. He walked slowly, as if very tired or 
 full of pain. 
 
 "Let's go to meet him !" cried Dave, and ran for- 
 ward, followed by Henry and half a dozen others. 
 It did not take them long to reach the trapper, who, 
 as soon as he saw them, stopped short and clutched 
 a tree for support. 
 
 "What is it, Jones?" asked Henry, and then 
 
182 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 started, as did Dave, for they saw the man was very 
 thin, as if he had suffered from a long illness. 
 
 "Thank Heaven I — I am ba — back at last!" 
 gasped Peaceful Jones. "I th — thought I'd never 
 ma — make it!" 
 
 "You are sick — you have been hurt!" burst out 
 Dave, and helped to support him. 
 
 "Yes — got shot — Bevoir's crowd — got away — 
 sick — lost in forest — Indians — old medicine man — - 
 got away again — come here — and now " Peace- 
 ful Jones could not go on. 
 
 "You were shot?" queried Dave; "and by Be- 
 voir's crowd? What of my father?" And the 
 youth's heart seemed to stop beating. 
 
 "Dead — everybody is dead but me, and I — I — 
 oh!" And then Peaceful Jones dropped limply 
 into the arms of Dave and Henry. His eyes closed, 
 and for the time being he knew no more. 
 
 "He has fainted from exhaustion," said an under 
 officer who had come up. "Carry him to the fort, 
 and we will do what we can to revive him. He must 
 have important news to tell." 
 
 "Y T es," said Dave, brokenly. The mist was swim- 
 ming before his eyes. "Oh, Henry, can this be 
 true ? Can father be dead ?" 
 
 "Let us hope for the best," answered his cousin. 
 He, too, could hardly speak. 
 
THE SHOOTING CONTEST 183 
 
 Then some soldiers raised Peaceful Jones to their 
 shoulders and marched off to the fort with him. 
 Dave and Henry followed in their rear, each with a 
 heart that sank lower and lower at every step. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 ANOTHER LONG JOURNEY 
 
 For several hours Peaceful Jones lay in a stupor 
 of pain and exhaustion. He was given the best 
 medical attention the fort afforded, and at last 
 dropped into a deep sleep, from which he did not 
 awaken until the next day. He was then still weak, 
 but able to tell his story in detail. 
 
 Much of it we already know. After leaving the 
 vicinity of the cedar with his bear meat over his 
 shoulder he had wandered around in the woods and 
 gotten lost. Then he had been snowed in for over 
 a week, and at the end of that period had been taken 
 down with a fever, and had come out of it to find 
 himself in an Indian camp and under the care of a 
 medicine man for whom he had once done a favor. 
 The medicine man told him that some other Indians 
 wished to kill him, and at the first opportunity the 
 trapper had fled from the Indian village and started 
 again for Fort Pitt. He had fallen over some rocks 
 into a hollow while on the last three miles of his 
 
 184 
 
ANOTHER LONG JOURNEY 185 
 
 journey and was so weak that he could hardly stand 
 when discovered by his friends. 
 
 "But are you certain the others were all killed — 
 that my father was killed?" asked Dave. 
 
 "He must be dead, Dave — although I didn't see 
 him go down. I was outside of the tradin' post. 
 But I heard a Frenchman and an Indian speak about 
 it. They were more than anxious to kill me too." 
 
 "Oh, I cannot believe that father is dead !" burst 
 out the youth, and had to turn away to hide his 
 tears. 
 
 Henry did what he could to comfort his cousin, 
 but was himself much downcast. That evening the 
 pair talked the matter over for several hours, but 
 the discussion did not appear to help the situation. 
 
 "I wish we could get Colonel Bouquet or Captain 
 Ecuyer to march against Jean Bevoir," said Dave. 
 "That Frenchman and his associates ought to be 
 shot down or hanged." 
 
 "I don't think either the colonel or the captain 
 will want to go out during the winter," answered 
 Henry, which was a correct conclusion. The season 
 was proving so severe that the idea of sending a 
 body of soldiers on a trail that was then but little 
 known was out of the question, in the opinion of 
 both the colonel and the commandant of the fort. 
 Both said nothing could be done until spring. 
 
186 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I don't believe they will ever send the soldiers 
 out there," said Dave to Henry, with much bitter- 
 ness in his tone. "They think they have their hands 
 full taking care of matters as far west as this 
 fort." 
 
 "Well, we can't exactly blame them, Dave. They 
 have had some hard times here, during the past few 
 years." 
 
 "But do you want to stay here and let Bevoir and 
 his crowd escape punishment?" 
 
 "I certainly do not. But what can we do? It 
 would be foolhardy for us to dream of going out 
 there alone." 
 
 "We might go home and organize a party from 
 there. I think your father would help us." 
 
 "That is a roundabout way of getting at it," an- 
 swered Henry, thoughtfully. "But it could be 
 done." 
 
 "I can't bear to think of staying here and doing 
 nothing," resumed Dave. "Why, every day would 
 seem like a month ! I must know the truth, and I 
 must do something to bring Jean Bevoir and those 
 other rascals to justice." 
 
 With Dave, to think was to act, and by the next 
 day he had made up his mind fully. He would 
 return to Will's Creek, tell his Uncle Joe and the 
 others all, and get them to aid him in organizing an 
 
ANOTHER LONG JOURNEY 1 87 
 
 expedition to move against Jean Bevoir and his evil 
 associates. 
 
 The commandant of the fort was much surprised 
 at the youth's determination and secretly admired his 
 pluck. Yet he shrugged his shoulders over the wis- 
 dom of the plan. 
 
 "'Tis a long journey to the east and 'twill be a 
 longer journey to the west," he said. "However, 
 have your own way, and I will aid you as much as 
 I can." 
 
 It was arranged that two frontiersmen named 
 Lawson and Devine should accompany Dave and 
 Henry on their journey eastward. The four were 
 to go on foot, taking along snowshoes, and each was 
 to carry a knapsack well filled with rations. They 
 were to move along as quickly as possible, only 
 stopping to shoot game when it was absolutely neces- 
 sary. 
 
 Lawson and Devine were fairly well known to the 
 youths. Each had been over the trail a number of 
 times, and each was stout and strong and well able to 
 resist the hardships of the trip. All went over their 
 outfits with care, and did not carry anything more 
 than seemed absolutely necessary. 
 
 The start was made from Fort Pitt on a bright 
 clear day in the middle of December. A few of the 
 soldiers went out to see them off, and to the first 
 
188 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 bend in the trail. Then they turned back, and the 
 party of four was left to confront whatever lay 
 before it. 
 
 "I do not think we shall meet any Indians," said 
 Henry. "They do not fancy moving around in such 
 nipping weather as this." 
 
 "Keep your eyes open, is what I say," answered 
 Lawson, who was striding along in advance. "An 
 Injun ain't going to announce his coming with bells 
 and a horn." 
 
 For the first few miles of the journey but little 
 was spoken, the frontiersmen being of a silent turn 
 of mind and Dave and Henry being busy with their 
 thoughts. They were following the old Braddock 
 road, thinking they might make better progress on 
 this through the heavy snows than on the General 
 Forbes route. 
 
 "I am afraid, if we push ourselves too much the 
 first day, we'll be rather stiff the second," remarked 
 Henry, as they stopped for a minute on a rise of 
 ground to get their breath. 
 
 "Oh, I want to make as many miles as I possibly 
 can," answered Dave impatiently. 
 
 "I agree with Henry," said Devine. "We'll have 
 to take it a bit easier. We'll gain by it in the end, 
 mark my words." 
 
 That night they encamped in a snug spot among 
 
ANOTHER LONG JOURNEY 1 89 
 
 the rocks. Plenty of firewood was handy, and they 
 built up a roaring blaze. On the way Henry had 
 seen a bunch of rabbits and had not resisted the 
 temptation to take a shot. He had secured three, 
 and these were cooked to a turn and eaten, after 
 which they turned in without delay, each taking his 
 turn at standing guard and keeping up the fire. 
 
 The next day was largely a repetition of the first, 
 and the third day was on the same order, although 
 Lawson saw a deer and shot at it, breaking its leg. 
 Dave gave the game a finishing bullet, and they took 
 the meat to their next camping spot. There the 
 deer was cut up, and each was given a good-sized 
 piece to carry along. 
 
 "That ought to last us several days," said Law- 
 son. "So we won't have to waste time or powder 
 on more stuff for the larder." 
 
 The next day, about noon, came an alarm. 
 Turning a bend of the trail they came in sight of 
 fully a score of Indians, all on snowshoes and jour- 
 neying in the direction of Fort Pitt. 
 
 "Out of sight!" warned Lawson, and leaped be- 
 hind some bushes, followed by his companions. 
 
 "I think they saw us first," said Henry. "And if 
 so, it will do us small good to hide." 
 
 He had hardly spoken when a shrill whistle filled 
 the air, followed by a cry that was well known to 
 
IQO TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Dave and Henry. At once both boys ran out into 
 the road. 
 
 "White Buffalo !" cried Dave, and moved onward 
 to greet the aged chief. 
 
 "Where goes my young friend?" questioned 
 White Buffalo. 
 
 "I am going home," answered Dave, and then 
 told of what had happened at the trading post. 
 White Buffalo was much concerned. 
 
 "'Tis sad news indeed," said he. "And comes at 
 a time when White Buffalo's heart was filled with 
 gladness." 
 
 "What has happened to make you glad?" asked 
 Henry. 
 
 "My tribe is at peace once more. Henceforth all 
 of our warriors will be friendly to the English. 
 And they have made me the chief of all my 
 people." 
 
 "I am glad of that, for your sake !" cried Dave. 
 "And you deserve this, White Buffalo, for you are 
 the very best Indian I know." 
 
 "White Buffalo wishes he could aid his friend 
 Dave," said the Indian. "But now he must journey 
 to the home of the Delawares, to prepare for the 
 great ceremonial. But when he is at liberty he will 
 follow Dave, and bring with him some of his best 
 braves," 
 
ANOTHER LONG JOURNEY I9I 
 
 "I'll be glad of that, White Buffalo." 
 
 "If Bevoir and his curs have slain Dave's father 
 and his friends they must suffer for it," went on the 
 aged chief. "And the trading post belongs to Dave 
 and his people," he added, firmly. "Neither the 
 French nor the red men can have it." 
 
 A talk lasting an hour followed, and White Buf- 
 falo said again that sooner or later he would aid 
 Dave. How he kept his word we shall see in a later 
 chapter. 
 
 The Indians went on their way, and once again 
 Dave and the others turned their faces eastward. 
 Nothing more happened to alarm them, and thus 
 they went on for two days more. 
 
 "We'll soon be there," said Dave. "We ought to 
 strike one of the settlements in a day or two." They 
 had certainly pushed ahead with rapidity, as their 
 strained and tired legs testified. 
 
 That night they encamped among some trees, and 
 in the morning found everything covered with snow. 
 The snow was still coming down steadily. 
 
 "We are not going to do so well to-day," said 
 Henry. "We must take care, or we'll get off the 
 trail." 
 
 "Trust me to keep to the trail," said Lawson. "I 
 know the ground too well to get lost." 
 
 It was indeed hard to go on, and by noon they 
 
I92 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 were glad enough to stop for a long rest. The wind 
 was biting cold and the temperature was going 
 down rapidly. 
 
 "Unless I miss my guess we're going to have an 
 awful night," remarked Devine. "The best thing 
 we can do is to find some good shelter before it gets 
 too dark." 
 
 They pushed on from two o'clock to four. By 
 that time the leaden sky was growing dark, and they 
 looked around for the best shelter obtainable. At 
 last they chose a spot where there were some rocks 
 and thickly set trees. 
 
 "This isn't as good as it might be, but it's the 
 best around here, I reckon," said Lawson. 
 
 They scraped away the snow and built a fire, and 
 then heaped up some brushwood as a shelter from 
 the wind. But it kept growing colder and colder, 
 until they were glad enough to huddle close to the 
 blaze with their coats buttoned closely around 
 them. 
 
 "This is going to be a banner night," said Henry, 
 and his words proved correct, so far as the cold was 
 concerned. The temperature dropped steadily until 
 two o'clock in the morning, when Dave felt as if he 
 was "breathing icicles" as he expressed it. It was 
 so cold that nobody could sleep, and they spent the 
 time in hugging the fire and in driking hot coffee. 
 
ANOTHER LONG JOURNEY 193 
 
 The two men had a bottle of liquor, of which they 
 consumed not a little. The liquor was offered to the 
 two youths, but each declined. 
 
 "I think we are better off without it," said Dave, 
 and Henry said the same. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A NEW MOVE 
 
 All were glad to see the sun rise in the morning. 
 The storm had cleared away, the wind had fallen, 
 and gradually the temperature rose once more. 
 
 "That was a night to remember," said Henry. 
 "I don't want to be out in anything colder." 
 
 "Nor I," answered his cousin. "Had it not been 
 for the roaring fire and the hot coffee we might have 
 been frozen to death." 
 
 "I'd rather have my liquor than the coffee," said 
 Devine. 
 
 "I don't agree with you," said Dave. "Liquor 
 may heat you up for awhile, but it will make you 
 colder afterwards." 
 
 They were glad enough to break camp and walk 
 
 just for the sake of getting warm. But they were 
 
 all more or less sleepy, and in the middle of the day 
 
 each dozed off after dinner. That night they found 
 
 a well-sheltered spot, and got a rest that did them 
 
 a world of good. The weather was still cold, but 
 
 not as freezing as it had been. 
 
 194 
 
A NEW MOVE I95 
 
 It was not until two days later that they reached 
 the first of the settlements, and after that they slept 
 each night in either a log cabin or some other shelter. 
 The folks they met were glad to do what they could 
 for them, although this was but little, as the Indian 
 war had left them all comparatively poor. 
 
 "I've got to start just where I began twelve years 
 ago," said one old settler. "The Injuns didn't leave 
 me a thing but this old cow-shed. We've got to 
 build a new cabin, and buy some stock, and do a 
 mountain o' work to get the place into shape again." 
 And his position was that of hundreds of others. 
 Many had left the frontier entirely, not car- 
 ing to make a living where there was so much 
 danger. 
 
 Another slight snowstorm was encountered, but 
 the party kept on steadily, and soon came within 
 sight of Will's Creek. Then, one clear afternoon, 
 both Dave and Henry set up a loud shout : 
 
 "Rodney!" 
 
 "Hello !" was the answer, and Rodney, who was 
 out hunting, turned to them in great amazement. 
 "Dave and Henry ! How in the world did you get 
 here?" 
 
 "Walked," answered Henry. "How are all the 
 folks at home ?" 
 
 "Everybody is doing very well. But this is cer- 
 
196 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 tainly a surprise. Come along to the house. The 
 folks will be wild to see you, mother especially," and 
 Rodney gave Henry a meaning glance. 
 
 They soon reached the log cabin, and all at the 
 place rushed out to give them a warm greeting. 
 Mrs. Morris kissed her son several times and then 
 kissed Dave, and little Nell also came in for her 
 share of caresses. 
 
 "I certainly did not expect you at this season," 
 said Joseph Morris. "Perhaps you have brought 
 some sort of a message?" and he looked inquiringly 
 at his son and his nephew. 
 
 "It's about father," said Dave. He tried to go 
 on, but his voice choked up and he motioned for 
 Henry to speak. 
 
 Henry told the tale of the disaster at the trading 
 post, just as it had been related by Peaceful Jones. 
 Mr. Morris and the others listened with keen in- 
 terest. Mrs. Morris burst into tears and Nell did 
 likewise. 
 
 "Dave, I am so sorry for you !" cried his aunt, as 
 she hugged the youth to her breast. 
 
 "And so am I !" burst out Nell. "Oh, that wicked, 
 wicked Jean Bevoir !" 
 
 "I do not wonder that you wished to bring the 
 news home," said Joseph Morris. "It is a fearful 
 state of affairs. The fight must have been a losing 
 
A NEW MOVE 197 
 
 one from the start. Peaceful Jones can be thankful 
 that he escaped." 
 
 "I wanted to go to the trading post — to get some- 
 body from the fort to go," said Dave, brokenly. 
 "But no one in command would take the responsi- 
 bility." 
 
 "It is because of the rumors that are afloat," an- 
 swered his uncle. "Some say Pontiac is going to do 
 his best to capture Fort Pitt and every place west of 
 Fort Detroit." 
 
 The whole evening was spent in discussing the 
 situation, Dave and Henry going over matters just 
 as they had at the fort. It was a sober home-com- 
 ing, and none of the older folks thought of going to 
 bed until late. Lawson and Devine were told to 
 make themselves at home. 
 
 "Sam Barringford has gone to Fort Cumberland 
 on business," said Joseph Morris, in reply to an in- 
 quiry from Henry. "He will be back to-morrow or 
 the day after." 
 
 The next day matters were talked over once more, 
 and Dave told his uncle that nothing would satisfy 
 him but to make the effort to reach the trading post 
 and learn the truth concerning his parent. 
 
 "Well, I do not blame you, Dave," answered his 
 uncle. "But to get out there from here will be no 
 easy matter, and to go alone or with only a handful 
 
198 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 of men would be folly. By this time Jean Bevoit 
 has probably put the post in a good state of defense, 
 and, since Jones escaped, he must be on constant 
 guard." 
 
 "I have a little plan to suggest, Uncle Joe. Why 
 cannot we travel almost to the post and then go into 
 quarters somewhere and send one or two men out in 
 quiet? The men might go to the post, pretend to 
 be friendly with Bevoir, and state that Peaceful 
 Jones is dead, having been found so in the woods. 
 Bevoir may then expose his plans and relax his 
 vigilance, and we can watch our chances, rush in, 
 and take possession." 
 
 This plan appealed strongly to Henry, and even 
 Mr. Morris nodded as if he approved. Still, there 
 were many things to consider, the planter told his 
 nephew, and he wanted a few days to deliberate. 
 That night he talked it over in private with his wife. 
 
 "Dave wants to find out the truth about his father, 
 Lucy," said the planter. "I do not blame him, and I 
 want to find out the truth myself, and see that justice 
 is done. If he goes out to the trading post I feel it 
 will be my duty to go with him." 
 
 "But, Joseph, I do not wish to stay here alone !" 
 cried Mrs. Morris. "Remember, I have not only 
 Nell but the twins to take care of !" 
 
 "Henry will want to go with Dave, since they are 
 
A NEW MOVE I99 
 
 like brothers," continued Joseph Morris. "But 
 Rodney can remain here, and so can some of the 
 neighbors, if you wish it." 
 
 "And would you go out there alone with the 
 boys?" 
 
 "No ! no ! by no means ! I should want to organ- 
 ize a regular expedition, and have the men sworn 
 into regular army service at the fort. Then, when 
 the time came, we could deal with Bevoir and his 
 men in true military style." 
 
 "You must have been doing a deal of thinking 
 about this, Joseph?" 
 
 "And why not? James was my only living 
 brother, and he was very dear to me." 
 
 "And he was dear to me too, and I think of Dave 
 as of a son. But I hate to see you leave, just when 
 we thought we might settle down again as of old." 
 
 "Poor Dave will never have any peace of mind 
 until he knows the exact truth." 
 
 "True ! My heart aches for him. Well, Joseph, 
 do as you think best. But, for my sake, do not be 
 rash !" And then Mrs. Morris kissed her husband 
 affectionately. 
 
 The next day Sam Barringford came back from 
 Fort Cumberland. He too was surprised to see the 
 new arrivals and greatly shocked over the news 
 they had brought. 
 
200 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "The skunk ! The dirty skunk !" cried the fron- 
 tiersman, referring to Jean Bevoir. "Oh, just wait 
 till I git my paws on him, thet's all !" And his big 
 frame shook with emotion. He was willing to start 
 for the post at any time and under any conditions. 
 
 Barringford had brought in news that interested 
 the Morrises as much, almost, as it did himself. 
 At Fort Cumberland he had met a French-English- 
 man, who had just arrived from Detroit. This 
 gentleman knew something about Maurice Hamil- 
 ton, the father of the twins, and said that Mr. 
 Hamilton was not in England but in this country, 
 although exactly where he could not tell. He had 
 started for London by way of New York, but had 
 then changed his mind and gone to Philadelphia. 
 
 "As soon as I heard thet, I sent a letter to Phila- 
 delphia," said Sam Barringford. "If he's thar he'll 
 most likely git it and write back, or come on." 
 
 "I hope he does come on," said Mrs. Morris. "I 
 should like to see what the father of Tom and Artie 
 looks like." 
 
 "I don't want Tom and Artie to go away," pouted 
 Nell. "I love them and I want them to stay here." 
 
 "Well, they are not going away just yet," said 
 Rodney, to quiet his sister. 
 
 During the winter a great many trappers and 
 frontiersmen remained close to the forts and settle- 
 
A NEW MOVE 201 
 
 ments, so it was comparatively easy for Joseph 
 Morris and Dave to organize the expedition that 
 was to start for the trading post on the Ohio. The 
 company was organized upon military lines, with 
 Joseph Morris as captain, and Dave and Henry as 
 first and second lieutenants. It was composed of 
 eighteen men, all well versed in shooting and in 
 scouting. As an old army sharpshooter, Sam Bar- 
 ringford was placed in charge of the advance guard. 
 The company took along a pack-train of twelve 
 horses, each animal carrying only such articles as 
 were deemed necessary for the trip. The men were 
 told why the expedition had been formed, and each 
 promised to stand by Mr. Morris to the end. 
 
 While the preparations were being made, the 
 holidays came and went, but only Nell and the twins 
 received any gifts, the minds of the older folks being 
 filled with other matters. 
 
 "I couldn't celebrate Christmas if I tried," said 
 Dave to Henry. "In fact, I couldn't celebrate any- 
 thing. All I want to do is to find out the truth about 
 father." 
 
 "And bring Jean Bevoir, Benoit Vascal, and those 
 rascally Indians to justice," added Henry, who 
 always looked at the practical side of affairs. 
 
 It had been arranged that Asa Dobson and his 
 wife should remain at the Morris homestead for the 
 
202 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 time being, and also an old colored man known as 
 Pompey Sugg. Pompey was a fine shot, and said 
 he would keep a constant guard against Indians. 
 
 "Dar ain't no Injuns gwine ter git de best ob dis 
 chicken," said the colored man. "If da come nosin' 
 around hyer Pomp will gib 'em a dose ob buckshot, 
 ki hi !" And he laughed as if shooting Indians was 
 the best joke in the world. He was known to be a 
 faithful fellow, and Joseph Morris placed great 
 reliance on him. 
 
 The expedition was gotten together at Fort Cum- 
 berland, but the actual start was from the Morris 
 homestead. Here, many men and women gathered 
 to see the party off, and numerous were the hand- 
 shakes and well-wishes. Dave received a warm em- 
 brace from his aunt. 
 
 "Keep up your courage," she whispered into his 
 ear. "Remember, Dave, I shall always be a mother 
 *o you, and your Uncle Joseph will be a father." 
 
 "Yes, I know, Aunt Lucy, and you are very kind," 
 he answered. He would have said more, but the 
 words stuck in his throat. 
 
 "Take good care o' the twins!" called out Sam 
 Barringford. And then he gave each a tight hug, 
 for he did not know but that their father would be 
 along to take them away before his return. 
 
 "Good-bye, Lucy," said Joseph Morris, to his 
 
A NEW MOVE 203 
 
 wife, as he gave her a last embrace. "Remember, I 
 shall be back again as soon as possible. Do not 
 worry while I am away." 
 
 "How can I help but worry?" she answered, 
 through her tears. "The West is such a wild 
 country, and the Indians and those wicked French- 
 men are so cruel ! If you give them the chance, 
 they will kill you, and all of the others, too, just as 
 they did brother James and his party !" 
 
 "We shall try to be careful." 
 
 Everything was now in readiness for the start, and 
 at the command from Joseph Morris the men fell 
 into place and set off, the pack-horses with their 
 drivers occupying the middle of the little train. The 
 boundless West and the mighty forest lay before 
 them. Would they succeed or fail in their mission ? 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 A FIGHT AMONG WILD BEASTS 
 
 "There is no use in talking, this is certainly slow 
 traveling. If it wasn't for the pack-horses we could 
 get along twice as fast." 
 
 It was Henry who spoke, and he addressed his 
 father. The pair were trudging along the snow- 
 clad trail, with Dave and Sam Barringford slightly 
 in advance. It was a mild, clear day in January, 
 with the sun kissing every mound of white and caus- 
 ing it to glitter as if with diamonds. 
 
 The little expedition had been on the march four 
 days, and all evidence of civilization had been left 
 behind. They were taking what Sam Barringford 
 and two of the other frontiersmen considered a 
 "short cut" on the route to Fort Pitt. Whether or 
 not they would stop at the fort when they arrived 
 in that vicinity was still an open question. On the 
 one hand, they did not wish to lose the time to do so, 
 and on the other, they wanted to make certain that 
 no news from the West had come to the stronghold 
 during their absence. 
 
 204 
 
A FIGHT AMONG WILD BEASTS 205 
 
 So far they had seen no trace of the Indians — in- 
 deed, they had met no strangers of any kind. The 
 loneliness of the wilderness winter was on all sides 
 of them. Sometimes they journeyed for hours 
 through the untracked snow without a single sound 
 disturbing them. At times this oppressiveness was 
 hard on Dave and caused him to grow so "blue" that 
 he hardly knew what to do. Henry tried to cheer 
 him up, but with little success. 
 
 The frontiersmen were all of the silent kind — 
 their calling had rendered them so — and conversa- 
 tion dragged, enlivened only now and then by the 
 talk of the men who urged along the horses. The 
 steeds did their best, but the footing was uncertain, 
 and more than once they went down into pitfalls 
 partly covered with snow and had to be hauled out 
 by main strength. 
 
 "The Injuns have certainly left this neighbor- 
 hood," observed Sam Barringford, after another 
 spell of silence. "Not a sign on 'em anywhere." 
 
 "I am glad of that," answered Joseph Morris. "I 
 want to meet nobody until we arrive at Fort Pitt or 
 the trading post." 
 
 "When I war to Fort Cumberland I heard a re- 
 port about Pontiac," went on the old frontiersman. 
 "They said he war gohr west — to stir up the red- 
 skins along the Mississippi and lower Ohio, to make 
 
206 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 another attack on the English. It war said the 
 French trappers an' traders would help him." 
 
 "Such a thing is possible," answered Joseph Mor- 
 ris. "Of one thing I am certain : Pontiac will not 
 rest until he has either won a victory or been killed." 
 
 It was true that Pontiac was again active, this time 
 close to the banks of the Illinois River. Here he 
 essayed to unite the western tribes against the Eng- 
 lish, — a work that availed him little. 
 
 The Indian uprisings at Fort Pitt, Detroit, and 
 other points had created a terrible feeling against 
 the red men in all portions of the Colonies, but this 
 hatred was most bitter in Pennsylvania, especially 
 in Paxton township, where a large body of settlers 
 of Irish and Scotch blood organized themselves into 
 a command popularly known as the Paxton Boys. 
 This command hunted down the Indians on all sides, 
 and even slaughtered a harmless tribe, living under 
 the protection of some Moravian missionaries. 
 
 "Down with all redskins!" was their cry, and 
 they moved upon Lancaster, where some Indians had 
 taken refuge in the workhouse. The doors were 
 battered down and all of the Indians slain, and then 
 the Paxton Boys marched down to Philadelphia, to 
 capture some of the enemy who had fled to that city. 
 To hold the maddened frontiersmen in check, Benja- 
 min Franklin aidecf in forming a body of militia, 
 
A FIGHT AMONG WILD BEASTS 20"J 
 
 and these compelled the Paxton Boys to leave with- 
 out further bloodshed. The killing of the friendly- 
 Indians was looked upon by the law-abiding citizens 
 as an outrage and the feeling against the Paxton 
 Boys was very bitter. On their side, the Paxton 
 Boys contended that the Indians had all proved 
 treacherous more or less and that "the only good 
 Indian was the dead Indian," — a saying that soon 
 became a household word among a certain class of 
 the communities. 
 
 In many cases, after the meeting at Johnson Hall, 
 the Indians were compelled to give up their captives, 
 and this brought on numerous affecting scenes. 
 Some women and children had been separated from 
 their people for several years, and had made warm 
 'ties among the Indians. A number had even mar- 
 ried red men and had children, and these did not 
 want to separate from their husbands. Some little 
 children had completely forgotten their real parents, 
 and when taken from the Indians cried loudly, much 
 to the distress of their mothers and fathers. 
 
 "Look ! look !" cried one poor woman. "My own 
 child, my Bessie, does not know me !" 
 
 "And look you!" said one man. "My Johanna 
 has married an Indian and they have two children ! 
 I would rather she were dead!" And the settler 
 turned and would have nothing more to do with his 
 
208 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 own fiesh and blood. Tradition says of this man 
 that in years after the Indian husband of his daugh- 
 ter saved him from being massacred during an up- 
 rising, and he was taken to safety by a grandson 
 whom he had disowned. 
 
 One day after another went by, and still the ex- 
 pedition under Joseph Morris wended its way west- 
 ward through the wilderness. So far the weather 
 had remained "fine, but at the end of a week it began 
 to thaw and then there set in a misty rain, disagree- 
 able in the extreme. The trail was sloppy, and if 
 a person slipped down he was bound to get wet 
 through and through. 
 
 "This is fine weather in which to catch cold," 
 grumbled Henry. The only thing he objected to 
 when being out was rain. 
 
 During the rain and mist, which lasted for two 
 whole days, they made but slow progress. Each 
 night they went into camp early, and spent several 
 hours in getting dry and making themselves half 
 comfortable. 
 
 On the morning of the day when it cleared off, 
 Henry and Dave were in advance, in company with 
 Sam Barringford. They were looking for game, 
 and hoped to stir up some rabbits, if not something 
 larger. 
 
 "I see some partridges !" cried Henry, presently, 
 
A FIGHT AMONG WILD BEASTS 209 
 
 and was about to take aim, when a sudden loud 
 snapping and snarling broke upon the air, coming 
 from the forest on their left. 
 
 "Wild animals!" cried Dave. "Don't you think 
 so, Sam?" 
 
 "I do," was the short answer. "Come on an' see 
 wot they be." 
 
 The old frontiersman led the way, and soon the 
 party of three came upon a scene that thrilled them 
 with interest. 
 
 In a little glade in the forest lay a dead deer, the 
 blood still pouring from a big bite in the throat. 
 Close at hand were a small panther and a full-grown 
 wildcat, tightly locked together, and biting and snap- 
 ping in the most vicious manner possible. At one 
 moment the wildcat would be on top, then the 
 panther, and then they would roll over and over, the 
 snow and fur flying in all directions. The blood 
 was flowing from a gash in the panther's side and the 
 wildcat's left ear was slitted into shreds. 
 
 "Here is a fight surely!" whispered Barringford. 
 "They mean business, they do !" 
 
 "What shall we do?" whispered Dave. The sight 
 thrilled him to the core. 
 
 "Let 'em have it out, lad — ain't no ust to interfere 
 in sech a muss as thet." 
 
 The two animals were certainly "having it out." 
 
2IO TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Over and over they went and the fur continued to 
 fly. The wildcat now had the panther by the neck, 
 while the latter was twisted half around and was 
 clawing frantically, trying to reach its enemy's 
 vitals. 
 
 "Looks as if the wildcat would get the best of it," 
 observed Henry. But at that moment the larger 
 beast shook the hold of the other, and swinging 
 around caught the wildcat in the stomach with its 
 claws. Then the wildcat closed in with another 
 snarl, catching the panther in the lower jaw. It was 
 a death-like grip that could not be shaken, and the 
 animals fell over on their sides. The fur and snow 
 continued to fly, but both animals soon grew weaker. 
 There was a last struggle, a gasp from the wildcat, 
 and then that animal stretched out dead. The hold 
 on the panther's jaw relaxed and slowly the panther 
 staggered up. It went but a few steps, then fell 
 down, gave a grunt or two, and began to kick feebly. 
 
 "Both on 'em done fer!" said Sam Barringford. 
 "It war certainly a great fight." 
 
 "The painter ain't dead yet!" cried Henry. 
 "Look out !" 
 
 They turned and saw that the panther was trying 
 to get up. It had discovered the intruders and 
 wanted to fight. It gave a feeble leap, but failed to 
 reach them. 
 
A FIGHT AMONG WILD BEASTS 211 
 
 "I'll fix thet painter," murmured Barringford, and 
 drew his hunting knife. 
 
 "Don't touch him — let him go," pleaded Dave. 
 "He made such a good fight against the wildcat." 
 The panther had turned towards the bushes. Now it 
 slunk out of sight, so weak that it could scarcely 
 drag one foot after another. Before they left the 
 spot they saw the animal breathe its last. 
 
 They examined the deer and found it had suffered 
 nothing but the gaping wound in the throat, made 
 evidently by the wildcat. 
 
 "This is a prize," said Henry. "It saves us the 
 trouble of shooting one." 
 
 "I suppose the wildcat brought the deer down and 
 the painter wanted to steal it," said Dave. "It's a 
 pretty good-sized deer for a wildcat to tackle." 
 
 "I reckon as how the wildcat war half starved an' 
 got desprit," spoke up the old frontiersman. "He 
 must have jumped down on the deer from some tree 
 and hung on till the deer war dead." 
 
 The others had by this time come up, and they 
 looked at the deer with interest. The game was 
 slung over the back of one of the horses and the on- 
 ward march resumed. That night all enjoyed the 
 fresh venison. 
 
 On the following day they came to a fair-sized 
 river, and there encamped for their noonday repast. 
 
212 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Taking an axe, Henry cut a round hole in the ice 
 and brought forth his fishing lines. 
 
 "Going to try fishing, eh?" said Dave. "All 
 right, I'll do what I can to help." 
 
 They soon had their lines ready, and baiting up, 
 allowed them to sink through the hole. The fish 
 were sluggish, and for a long time they got no bite. 
 But then came a lazy tug, and hauling in, Henry 
 brought up a fat fish that weighed all of two pounds. 
 
 "Good for you, Henry!" cried his cousin. "You 
 always were lucky at this sort of thing." 
 
 "Not always," answered Henry, grimly. "I have 
 fished through the ice more than once and caught 
 next to nothing." 
 
 "I'll never forget how I once brought up a snake 
 and then fell into the water," went on Dave, recall- 
 ing an incident already related in detail in this series. 
 
 "No more snakes for me. I hate Gracious ! 
 
 Look at that ! A snake as sure as you're born !" 
 
 Dave's line and hook came up. On the end was 
 something dark and slimy. Henry started back and 
 then gave a laugh. 
 
 "Only an old tree-root, Dave !" he cried, merrily. 
 "Don't holler before you are hurt." 
 
 "I was thinking of that other snake," answered 
 his cousin, somewhat sheepishly. He dropped in 
 his hook again. "Hope I get a bite this time." 
 
A FIGHT AMONG WILD BEASTS 213 
 
 His wish was gratified. Fishing proved so good 
 that the youths persuaded Mr. Morris to let them 
 continue for awhile, and in less than an hour they 
 had a full mess for supper. The men enjoyed the 
 change greatly, and told Henry and Dave they could 
 go fishing at every river the expedition crossed. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE RESCUE OF THE STRANGER 
 
 A few days later brought the expedition to Fort 
 Pitt. Captain Ecuyer was surprised to see Dave 
 and Henry back so soon, and praised them for the 
 rapid time they had made. But he shook his head 
 when he listened to the further plans of the 
 party. 
 
 "I believe you are taking a great risk," said he. 
 "I have been sending out scouts within the last week, 
 and their reports are far from satisfactory. They 
 have seen Indians at a distance, and there is not the 
 slightest doubt but that this stronghold is being 
 watched closely." 
 
 "It is queer then that we were not attacked in 
 coming here," answered Joseph Morris. "We kept 
 a careful watch, but saw no enemy." 
 
 "Perhaps your guard saved you," said the com- 
 mandant of the fort. "But, remember, it will be 
 different when you go westward from here. The 
 
 214 
 
THE RESCUE OF THE STRANGER 21 5 
 
 Indians are surely gathering in the West, and what 
 they intend to do, Heaven alone knows. Were I 
 you I should at least wait until spring before ventur- 
 ing further." 
 
 Dave would not listen to this, and Henry sided 
 with his impatient cousin, knowing well how anxious 
 Dave was to learn the truth concerning his father. 
 Joseph Morris realized the situation, and it must be 
 admitted that he, too, was anxious, since his brother 
 had been very dear to him. A consultation was held, 
 and it was resolved that the expedition should rest 
 at Fort Pitt until over Sunday — four days — and 
 then push forward as before. 
 
 The coming of the expedition to Fort Pitt brought 
 a smile to the face of Peaceful Jones, who was slowly 
 recovering from the privation to which he had been 
 exposed. 
 
 "It's an outright shame I can't go with ye !" said 
 the old trapper, with a profound sigh. "Wouldn't 
 like no better fun nor to lick Jean Bevoir an' his 
 crowd good !" 
 
 "Don't worry about thet, Peaceful," answered 
 Sam Barringford. "Only give us the chanct an' 
 we'll lick Bevoir an' his crowd good an' proper, be- 
 lieve me !" 
 
 "Thet feller ain't fit to be on this airth, Sam — he's 
 wuss nor a snake in the grass !" 
 
2l6 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I agree with ye, Peaceful, an' when I git through 
 with him he'll be wuss off nor any snake ye ever 
 heard tell on," concluded the old frontiersman. 
 
 From Fort Pitt the expedition took to the trail 
 James Morris had followed in journeying to his 
 trading post. The January thaw was a thing of 
 the past, and once again cold weather, with several 
 heavy falls of snow, reigned supreme. The trail 
 was in spots all but impassable, and on more than one 
 occasion they had to literally dig the horses out of 
 the drifts into which they wandered. Twice they 
 had to go into camp for two days at a time — to rest 
 up and wait for the skies to clear. It was a weari- 
 some and courage-testing journey, as even stout- 
 limbed Sam Barringford testified. 
 
 "It's pure grit an' nuthin else is goin' to carry us 
 through," said he. "Fer this travelin' ain't fit fer a 
 dog." 
 
 "There is one comfort, — it is keeping the Indians 
 away from us," answered Joseph Morris. "They 
 won't venture very far from their villages in this 
 sort of weather." 
 
 But Joseph Morris was mistaken. All unknown 
 to the whites, the red men were watching their move- 
 ments closely. Even though the expedition had left 
 Fort Pitt under cover of darkness the Indians had 
 discovered them on the western trail early in the 
 
THE RESCUE OF THE STRANGER 217 
 
 morning, and now speedy runners were carrying the 
 news to various villages for fifty miles around. 
 
 Soon a counter expedition, under Eagle Nose, — a 
 well-known Maumee River warrior, — was sent out, 
 to do battle with the coming white men. The 
 Indians in this detachment numbered about thirty 
 warriors, all young and eager to fight. They ad- 
 vanced over the snow on snowshoes, and as soon as 
 they came up to the trail of Joseph Morris's expedi- 
 tion went into hiding. 
 
 "Let us wait until the hated English sleep," said 
 Eagle Nose. "Then we can kill them all and take 
 their goods and horses back to our lodges with us." 
 It may be mentioned here that it was Eagle Nose 
 and his men who had, the year before, fallen on an 
 English detachment near Venango and murdered all 
 the soldiers, mutilating some of the bodies most 
 horribly. For this Eagle Nose became afterwards 
 known as the Red Butcher, — an appellation that 
 clung to him to the day of his death. 
 
 On the afternoon that the Indians came upon the 
 trail of the whites, Sam Barringford set out on a 
 hunt, taking Dave and Henry with him. A halt had 
 been made, to rest up before climbing through a 
 hollow all but filled with snow. The old frontiers- 
 man and the two youths took themselves into the 
 woods where the snow was not so deep, and there 
 
2l8 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 presently came upon the tracks of some big animal 
 which Barringford declared must be an elk. 
 
 "Let us get him by all means !" cried Henry, en- 
 thusiastically. 
 
 The others were willing enough, and followed the 
 tracks of the elk a distance of quarter of a mile. 
 Here they came to something of a buffalo trail, and 
 were surprised to behold the prints of many feet and 
 of snowshoes. 
 
 "Sam, what does this mean?" demanded Dave, 
 quickly. 
 
 The old frontiersmen did not answer at once, but 
 examined the prints with care. Then he brought 
 his teeth together with a snap — a sure sign that he 
 had made an important discovery. 
 
 "Injuns!" he said, laconically. "Injuns!" 
 
 "Indians!" 
 
 "Aye, lad — twenty or more on 'em, too, — an' 
 headed up along close to the trail we made this 
 morning." 
 
 "They must be following us," broke in Henry. 
 
 "It looks like it." 
 
 "Do you think they mean to attack us, Sam?" 
 questioned Dave. 
 
 "They will ef they git the chanct, Dave. It ain't 
 in human nature fer 'em not to — thet is, if they be 
 enemies." 
 
THE RESCUE OF THE STRANGER 2 I 9 
 
 "They might be friends." 
 
 "Wall, I wouldn't gamble on thet, out here." 
 
 "What had we best do ?" 
 
 "You an' Henry can go back and tell Mr. Morris 
 about it. I'll go on an' do a little scout work." 
 
 So it was decided, and in a very few minutes Dave 
 and Henry were on their way to the spot where the 
 expedition had encamped. Sam Barringford fol- 
 lowed the trail of the Indians, moving along with 
 the secrecy that years of experience had given him. 
 
 "We must lose no time in getting back to camp," 
 said Henry, as he and his cousin hurried along. 
 "Every moment may be precious." 
 
 "Right you are, Henry. Oh, I hope we escape !" 
 
 "Captain Ecuyer must have been right — we have 
 been watched." 
 
 Their hurried entrance into camp created some 
 consternation, and the story they had to tell made 
 every one uneasy. A council of war was held, and 
 the camp was moved to another spot, where the fron- 
 tiersmen might make a better stand, in case of an 
 attack. 
 
 Two anxious hours went by, and all looked for the 
 return of Sam Barringford, but he did not come. 
 Then it began to grow dark, and guards were posted 
 all around the camp, to give the alarm at the first 
 appearance of any Indians. 
 
220 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Dave was on guard duty, close to some rocks 
 which the wind had swept clear of snow, when he 
 saw a figure stealing across an open glade a short 
 distance away. Hardly had the figure appeared 
 when two Indians came into view, each with a bow 
 and arrows. Both red men aimed at the other 
 figure and sent an arrow on its way. The figure 
 threw up its arms and pitched headlong in the snow, 
 beside a clump of bushes. 
 
 "It must be Sam Barringford !" cried the youth, to 
 himself. "Sam — and he has been shot !" 
 
 It was an awful thought, and for the moment 
 Dave did not know what to do. Then, as the Indians 
 came closer, he took aim at one with his rifle and 
 blazed away. The Indian staggered and fell, and 
 then dragged himself back from the direction he 
 had come, seriously wounded. The second Indian 
 ran away and was quickly lost to view in the tall 
 timber. 
 
 Dave was busy reloading, when his uncle rushed 
 up, followed by two frontiersmen, all with their 
 rifles in readiness to resist an attack. 
 
 "What was it, Dave?" questioned his uncle. 
 And when told, he added: "Was it Sam?" 
 
 "I think so. He dropped There he is 
 
 now!" 
 
 As the vouth uttered the words the man who had 
 
THE RESCUE OF THE STRANGER 221 
 
 fallen picked himself up in a dazed way. He walked 
 a few paces in one direction and then turned and 
 walked in another. Clearly he did not know what 
 he was doing. 
 
 "He has been struck and is hurt," said Joseph 
 Morris. "Hello, come this way!" he called out. 
 "Come this way!" 
 
 The man at first paid no attention, but presently he 
 came towards them, reeling and staggering from 
 weakness. One arrow was sticking through his 
 arm, and the second had grazed the back of his 
 head. 
 
 "Save me!" he moaned. "Don't let the — them 
 ki— kill me!" 
 
 "We'll do what we can for you," answered Joseph 
 Morris, and ran to take the man by the arm. He 
 was an utter stranger, tall and slim, with curly 
 black hair and dark eyes. His clothing had once 
 been of the best, but was now much soiled and in 
 rags. 
 
 "The Indians — they are all coming!" gasped the 
 man, when he felt able to speak once more. "They 
 have plotted to fall upon a pack-train bound for th — 
 the we — west. I was their prisoner and thought 
 
 to — to get to the pack-train and warn them of " 
 
 He tried to go on, but could not, and sank a leaden 
 weight in Joseph Morris's arms. 
 
222 TRAIL AND TRADING TOST 
 
 "Poor fellow, he is almost clone for," said 
 one of the frontiersmen. "I don't think he will 
 live." 
 
 "Let us carry him into camp," answered Joseph 
 Morris. "He may not be so badly hurt as you 
 think." 
 
 The two frontiersmen who had come up with Mr. 
 Morris picked the senseless form up and hurried to 
 the camp with it, where they did what they could for 
 the sufferer. In the meantime Joseph Morris did a 
 little scouting around, but could see nothing more of 
 the Indians. 
 
 "The alarm has frightened them off for the time 
 being," said Mr. Morris. "They may be too 
 cowardly to attack us while we are wide-awake and 
 on the watch." 
 
 Fortunately for the whites, the night proved to be 
 an exceptionally clear one, with the stars glittering 
 in the heavens like so many diamonds. It was quiet, 
 saving for the far-away howls of some wolves and 
 the occasional bark of a fox or hoot of an owl. But 
 the frontiersmen kept on guard, not knowing what 
 each succeeding minute might bring forth. 
 
 The man who had been brought in still lay un- 
 conscious and breathing heavily. He was a hand- 
 some individual, all of forty years of age, and 
 evidently of good breeding. His face was pale, as if 
 
THE RESCUE OF THE STRANGER 223 
 
 he had suffered much during his captivity among the 
 Indians. 
 
 "I wish he was well enough to tell his tale," said 
 Henry. "He might relate something to our ad- 
 vantage." 
 
 As the hours slipped by all the Morrises became 
 anxious over the prolonged absence of Sam Bar- 
 ringford. At the most they had not expected the old 
 frontiersman to remain away later than midnight. 
 
 "Perhaps something has happened to him," said 
 Henry. "Those Indians are mighty slick." 
 
 "Oh, don't say that !" cried Dave. "Sam knew 
 exactly what he was doing, and he ought to be able 
 to take care of himself." 
 
 "He may have walked into some trap. You must 
 remember, Dave, that some of the redskins out here 
 are slyer than those in the East. They are regular 
 foxes on the warpath." 
 
 Slowly the night wore away, until a glow in the 
 east announced the coming of another day. The 
 man who had been brought in was now conscious, 
 but so weak he could scarcely speak. He wanted to 
 tell them something, but could not, and sank back 
 again utterly exhausted. 
 
 "Take it easy," said Joseph Morris, kindly. "We 
 will do what we can for you." And at this, the man 
 tried to smile, but it was a dismal failure. 
 
224 TRAIL AND TRADING TOST 
 
 "Tell me one thing," said Dave, who had come up 
 a moment before. "Did you meet another white 
 man . in the woods — a frontiersman, one of our 
 men ?" 
 
 At this the man shook his head. "Nobody — 
 on — only Indians !" he gasped. 
 
 "Then something has certainly happened to Sam," 
 said Dave, and gave a sigh that came from the very 
 bottom of his young heart. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 SNOWBOUND ON THE TRAIL 
 
 Another council of war was held, and two of the 
 frontiersmen went scouting around once more. Not 
 a sign was to be seen of the Indians, and at last 
 Joseph Morris concluded to advance as before, but 
 with everybody on the alert. 
 
 "If Sam comes back to this point he will know 
 that we have gone on and can follow us up," said 
 the planter. 
 
 The sick man had to be carried on a stretcher, and 
 the men took turns at the task. As soon as break- 
 fast was had, the expedition moved, three frontiers- 
 men well to the front, on the watch for the first sign 
 of the enemy. 
 
 Thus a mile had been covered, and they were ap- 
 proaching a spot where their route lay between a 
 cliff and a hill, when an interruption came from the 
 rear. The expedition halted, and a minute later 
 Sam Barringford came up on a run, and well-nigh 
 exhausted. 
 
 "I war afraid ye'd move afore I got back," panted 
 225 
 
226 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 the old frontiersman. "Ye hadn't ought to have 
 done it. You be a-walkin' right into a hornets' 
 nest." 
 
 "Where have you been ?" questioned Dave. 
 
 "Been follerin' them Injuns. They are a bad 
 crowd under Eagle Nose, an' they mean to wipe us 
 out, if they kin do it. They held a grand pow-wow 
 last night, and they have moved forward to the cliff 
 and the hill thet's ahead. When we go through be- 
 low they reckoned to shoot us down with bullets an' 
 arrows, an' roll some big rocks down on us. I 
 waited to learn jest what they war up to an' thet 
 kept me from gittin' back to camp afore." 
 
 Sam Barringford, after that, related his night's 
 adventures in detail. At no time had the Indians 
 seen him or suspected his presence, and he had been 
 so close that he had even stolen a gun belonging to 
 one of them, a weapon of ancient French make, 
 which he now had with him. 
 
 Having no desire to run into the "hornets' nest" 
 which the old frontiersman had described, Joseph 
 Morris determined to move onward by another 
 route. This suited Barringford, but he was of a 
 mind to attack the Indians because of the plot they 
 had concocted. 
 
 "We must teach 'em a lesson," he said. "If we 
 don't, it won't be safe travelin' for us at any time." 
 
SNOWBOUND ON THE TRAIL 227 
 
 This was considered sound advice by many 
 present, and in the end it was decided that six men 
 should climb the hill ahead, coming out above the 
 Indians if possible. The rest of the expedition, in 
 the meantime, was to move onward around the cliff, 
 making a wide detour, to avoid all possible contact 
 with the enemy. 
 
 "I want to go with Sam," said Henry to his 
 father, and was at last permitted to accompany the 
 old frontiersman. Dave had to remain with the 
 others, to help take care of the horses and the sick 
 man. 
 
 Sam Barringford knew exactly where he was 
 going, having traveled the ground several times in 
 the past. He was a natural-born woodsman, and 
 never forgot a locality once he had visited it. To 
 him trees and rocks were the same as signboards to 
 a dweller in the city. The only time he got lost was 
 when a territory was entirely new to him. 
 
 The way was by no means an easy one and, when 
 the top of the hill was reached, the tramp through 
 the snow had taken the wind out of more than one 
 of the detachment. The men and Henry rested for 
 a few minutes, and then, cautioned by Barringford, 
 moved slowly and cautiously over the hilltop in the 
 direction of the trail far below. 
 
 ''Halt!" whispered Sam Barringford, presently. 
 
228 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I see an Injun !" And he pointed out the red war- 
 rior two hundred feet or more below them. 
 
 The Indian was watching the trail below, and soon 
 he was joined by ten or a dozen others. The In- 
 dians were totally unconscious of the fact that some 
 white men were looking down upon them, and their 
 eyes were fixed steadfastly upon the trail below, 
 watching for the first appearance of the Morris 
 expedition. 
 
 "What a trap!" murmured Henry. "Had we 
 been caught in it, nothing could have saved us." 
 
 "Right you are, Henry," said another of the party. 
 "Sam deserves a good deal of credit for saving us." 
 
 To give the others of the expedition time to get 
 as far as possible from the scene of action, it was 
 decided to wait awhile before beginning an attack 
 on the Indians. The latter waited patiently for over 
 an hour, when they began to show some uneasiness, 
 thinking their plot had miscarried. 
 
 "Now we'll show 'em a trick or two," said Sam 
 Barringford, and gave the order to advance. 
 
 The Indians were taken completely by surprise, 
 and at the first fire of the English three fell, one dead 
 and the others mortally wounded. One other was 
 struck in the thigh and rolled down the hill on to 
 the trail below. 
 
 "Give it to 'em aeain!" roared Sam Barringford. 
 
SNOWBOUND ON THE TRAIL 229 
 
 "Give it to 'em, the sons o' Satan !" And he fired a 
 second time, while some of the others did the same. 
 Another Indian went down, and then the rest fled, 
 in several directions. The whites went after them, 
 and in the end fully half of the band under Eagle 
 Nose were exterminated. Eagle Nose himself was 
 struck in the left forearm, and withdrew with the 
 rest of his warriors, vowing bitter vengeance. 
 
 Of the whites, strange to state, not one was in- 
 jured, although the red men fired arrows and shots 
 at them many times. One arrow went through the 
 hunting shirt of one of the frontiersmen, and a 
 bullet clipped the cap of another, and that was all. 
 The Indians fled to the northward, and that was the 
 last seen of them for a long while to come. Some 
 were very bitter against Eagle Nose for leading 
 them into a trap, as they expressed it, and there was 
 some talk of deposing the chief, but nothing came 
 of this. 
 
 "Sam, you saved us from utter annihilation," said 
 Joseph Morris, when the two parts of the expedition 
 had been once more united. "I thank you from the 
 bottom of my heart," and he gave the old frontiers- 
 man's hand a tight squeeze. 
 
 "I wish I had been in that fight," said Dave to 
 Henry. "It must have been exciting." 
 
 "It was, but not as much so as some of the fights 
 
230 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 we had during the war," answered his cousin. "We 
 had the Indians on the run from the very start." 
 
 No time was now lost in moving forward, it being 
 Joseph Morris's wish to leave the Indians as far 
 behind as possible. They traveled until late at 
 night, when they reached a safe shelter among the 
 rocks and trees. It was now cloudy once more, and 
 soon after they went into camp it began to snow. 
 
 "We are in for a heavy fall," said Dave, and he 
 was right. The snow continued all night and all of 
 the next day, and still there was no let-up to the 
 storm. They remained in the temporary camp, 
 watching the fall anxiously. 
 
 "Dave, I really believe we are going to be snowed 
 in !" cried Henry, as he walked outside, to get a good 
 look at the sky. "It doesn't seem to brighten up a 
 bit!" 
 
 "Just what I am thinking," answered his cousin. 
 "It is certainly coming down as thickly as ever." 
 
 All were now watching the snowfall, and they 
 went to bed with anxious hearts. Dave woke up 
 just at dawn. The snow had stopped, but there was 
 more overhead, as he could easily see. 
 
 "If only this storm had kept off a few days 
 longer," sighed Joseph Morris. Three days of fair 
 traveling would have brought the expedition to the 
 vicinity of the trading post. 
 
SNOWBOUND ON THE TRAIL 23 1 
 
 Breakfast was had, and all were wondering if 
 they could make any headway in such a depth of 
 snow when the flakes began to come down again. 
 The whole landscape was blotted out in a sea of 
 whirling flakes. 
 
 "That settles it; we remain here," grumbled Dave. 
 The nearer he drew to the trading post the more 
 anxious he became to learn the whole truth of the 
 situation there. 
 
 The men of the expedition made themselves as 
 comfortable as possible, and not to be caught with- 
 out provisions, some went out on a short hunt. 
 They managed to bring down a few birds, but that 
 was all — not worth the powder and shot, as Bar- 
 ringford declared. 
 
 Dave was greatly interested in the sick man, who 
 dozed away the greater portion of the time. Once 
 or twice the youth tried to engage the man in con- 
 versation, but the effort was a failure. 
 
 "I'll have to wait till he feels more like himself," 
 said Dave to Henry. "One thing is certain, he is 
 not used to a life in the open or used to roughing it 
 in any way." 
 
 "It is queer how he came among the Indians, 
 Dave. He will most likely have quite a story to tell 
 — if he is ever able to tell it." 
 
 "Oh, I think he will recover, don't you?" 
 
232 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "Yes, physically, but " And Henry shrugged 
 
 his shoulders. 
 
 "You think it will affect him here?" And Dave 
 tapped his forehead. 
 
 "Perhaps. Don't you remember Dick Barsbee? 
 He went crazy from the Indian tortures he endured." 
 
 "Yes, I remember that." Dave shook his head. 
 "I hope the man comes around all right. I must 
 say there is something about him that interests me a 
 great deal." 
 
 "Does his face look familiar to you?" 
 
 "It certainly does, — but I can't trace the likeness 
 to save myself." 
 
 "It's the same way with me, and Sam Barringford 
 says the same. Now what can it mean ?" 
 
 "We may find out when we learn who the man is." 
 
 The snow continued all of that day and far into 
 the night. Then the wind arose, sweeping great 
 drifts of white across the landscape. The expedi- 
 tion was under the shelter of a cliff and some trees, 
 and was snowed in beyond a doubt. 
 
 "Snowbound!" cried Sam Barringford, grimly. 
 "Here we be an' here we are likely to stay fer some 
 time to come." 
 
 "We are certainly shut in pretty well," returned 
 Joseph Morris. "At the best, we'll have to dig our 
 way out." 
 
SNOWBOUND ON THE TRAIL 233 
 
 "The hosses could never git through on the trail," 
 put in one of the frontiersmen. "It would be cruelty 
 to try it. Why, the snow must be ten an' twelve 
 feet deep in some o' the hollows." 
 
 "And we'd lose our way," said another. "Might 
 as well stay where we are and be comfortable until 
 it clears a bit." He was troubled with soreness of 
 the feet, and found traveling very hard. 
 
 "We can't stay here very long," said Joseph 
 Morris. "We have lost so much time our pro- 
 visions are running low." 
 
 The matter was discussed for an hour, and they 
 decided to remain in the camp and make themselves 
 as comfortable as possible. The snow was banked 
 up for shelter, and pine boughs cut for couches, and a 
 roaring fire was kept going all the while. 
 
 "It's a pity we must stay here," sighed Dave. "I 
 think if we could reach the post in such weather as 
 this we would take Jean Bevoir and his crowd com- 
 pletely by surprise." 
 
 "I think so myself," replied Henry. "But we 
 must be patient, and take matters as they come." 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 CRUSHING NEWS 
 
 The expedition had to remain in camp for the 
 best part of a week, and during that time provisions 
 ran exceedingly low. To stock the larder several of 
 the men, and also Dave and Henry, went out in the 
 near-by woods and shot whatever came into sight. 
 The two youths were fortunate in bringing down 
 several wild turkeys of good size and also uncovered 
 a sleeping bear that they killed with ease. This 
 meat came in when the stock of provisions was at its 
 lowest, and proved highly acceptable. 
 
 At last the trail seemed to be fit to use once more, 
 and Joseph Morris ordered the advance to be made. 
 It was hard walking, either on foot or on snowshoes, 
 and many times the poor horses refused to go an- 
 other step and had to rest for an hour at a time. 
 Six miles were all they could cover the first day after 
 starting, and the youths felt as tired as if they had 
 walked five times that distance. Moving the sick 
 stranger was a harder task than ever, but nobody 
 thought of leaving him behind. 
 
 234 
 
CRUSHING NEWS 235 
 
 The second day, however, brought an improve- 
 ment. They gained a small creek flowing into the 
 Kinotah and followed this to the larger stream. 
 Walking on the ice was easier than in the snow. 
 Occasionally one or another would slip down, but 
 nobody complained. 
 
 "We are at the old post !" cried Dave, as the burnt 
 district came into view. They stopped for dinner 
 on the spot, and then took their way down the 
 Kinotah to the Ohio. 
 
 The weather was now moderating rapidly, so that 
 during the middle of the day the sun was positively 
 warm. Much of the snow turned to slush and 
 water, freezing a little at night and thawing more 
 than ever during the day. The surface of the river 
 became wet, and Joseph Morris cautioned all against 
 stepping on ice that might be rotten. 
 
 "If this weather keeps on it won't be long before 
 there is a spring freshet," remarked Sam Barring- 
 ford. "Queer how quickly things change in nature." 
 
 "That big snowfall about wound up the winter," 
 answered Henry, and he was right, as it afterwards 
 proved. 
 
 It was Joseph Morris's plan to halt when about a 
 mile from the trading post and then go forward with 
 Sam Barringford and one or two others and recon- 
 noiter the situation. As the expedition neared the 
 
236 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 post all kept on the alert for the possible appearance 
 of Bevoir or any of his crowd. 
 
 "For all we know Moon Eye may not be in the 
 post at all, but somewhere on the outside, on guard," 
 said Dave, who accompanied his uncle and Barring- 
 ford when reconnoitering. 
 
 Mr. Morris, Barringford, and Dave advanced 
 with extreme caution. It was another warm day, 
 with the sun shining brightly and the snow melting 
 rapidly on all sides. They kept among the bushes 
 and trees until they came to a point where they could 
 see a corner of the stockade plainly. 
 
 "Do you see anybody around?" asked Dave. He 
 was so agitated that he could not speak. Oh, if 
 only he knew the whole truth about his father ! 
 
 Sam Barringford shook his head and so did 
 Joseph Morris. Not a soul could be seen, and 
 slowly the three made their way to a point opposite 
 the stockade gate. 
 
 "The gate is shut," announced Dave. "I suppose 
 it is barred, too." 
 
 "More n likely," answered Sam Barringford. He 
 was looking at the loopholes with a critical eye. 
 "They are on guard," he announced, a minute later. 
 
 "How do you know that?" questioned Joseph 
 Morris. 
 
 "Saw a feller squinting through a loophole jest 
 
CRUSHING NEWS 237 
 
 now. Thar's another!" went on the old frontiers- 
 man. 
 
 "I see an Indian!" said Dave, and pointed along 
 the stockade, where a crack in the posts had given 
 him a glimpse of some feathers. "They are surely 
 on the watch." 
 
 "Then they must have learned of our coming!" 
 murmured the planter, and was much discouraged. 
 
 A thorough survey of the situation convinced 
 them that the party at the post was indeed on guard. 
 The alarm had been given by a runner of Eagle 
 Nose's tribe, who had brought the word for Moon 
 Eye's benefit, the latter chief being related to him by 
 marriage. Jean Bevoir had been greatly surprised, 
 but had at once issued orders both to the Frenchmen 
 and the Indians to keep a close guard. 
 
 "Ve shall fight zem," he said, boldly. "Fight zem 
 to ze end! I vill show zem zat za cannot stand 
 against Jean Bevoir !" 
 
 The Frenchman had procured a good stock of 
 rifles and ammunition, and everybody in the post 
 was, consequently, well armed. More than this, the 
 palisade had been strengthened at various points, 
 making the trading post a veritable fortress. 
 
 The runner had not told Bevoir or Moon Eye how 
 many men there were with Joseph Morris, but said 
 there must be at least a dozen. In the post were 
 
238 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 now assembled ten Frenchmen, several of whom had 
 been soldiers in the army during the war for the 
 possession of Canada, and fourteen Indians under 
 Moon Eye. There were also three Indian women 
 and five Indian children — all that were left of the 
 tribe since the downfall of Pontiac's conspiracy. 
 
 What to do next was a problem hard for Joseph 
 Morris to solve. The more he surveyed the situa- 
 tion the more he became convinced that to attack the 
 post openly would prove highly disastrous. 
 
 "They have the best of the situation," said he to 
 Dave and the others. "They could pick us off 
 through the loopholes at will. Perhaps I had better 
 parley with them." 
 
 "Ye can't parley with Bevoir," answered Sam 
 Barringford, in disgust. 
 
 "And why not?" 
 
 "Because ye can't believe a word the Frencher 
 says. Thet man would rather lie nor eat." 
 
 "But perhaps I can convince him that he cannot 
 hold the post," went on the planter. 
 
 "Well, ye kin do as ye please, Mr. Morris, but I 
 don't agree to it. Ye don't know the varmint as I 
 do, an' as Mr. James Morris did, — an' as Dave an' 
 Henry do. We have got to git the best o' them, 
 either in the open or by trickery. He won't listen 
 to reason until he's licked good an' proper." 
 
CRUSHING NEWS 239 
 
 "I think Sam is right," said Dave, as his uncle 
 looked at him. "J ean Bevoir is not to be trusted — 
 father and I found that out a number of times, to our 
 sorrow. He may promise all sorts of things, — but 
 he won't keep his word unless it suits him to 
 do so." 
 
 Nevertheless, rather than risk a fight at the be- 
 ginning, Joseph Morris resolved to have a talk with 
 the French trader, and for that purpose sent a fron- 
 tiersman named Hope to the post. Hope carried a 
 white handkerchief tied to a stick, and was allowed 
 to come to within a few paces of the stockade gate, 
 when he was halted. 
 
 "I want to talk to Jean Bevoir," said the frontiers- 
 man. 
 
 "Vat you vant?" demanded the Frenchman, from 
 within, and without showing himself. 
 
 "Is that you, Jean Bevoir?" 
 
 "Yees." 
 
 "Joseph Morris is here with a large party, and he 
 demands that you throw the gate of this post open." 
 
 "Ha ! Vat for, tell me zat ? So he can come in 
 and murder us, not so?" 
 
 "If you will not open the gate and let him march 
 in he will come in by force." 
 
 "Let heem try it ! Let heem try it !" cried Jean 
 Bevoir, in a rage. "Zis is my post — I vill defend 
 
240 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 my property. Now I vant you to go avay — an' stay 
 avay !" he added, sharply. 
 
 "Will you talk to Mr. Morris?" 
 
 "Vy I do zat? Haf I not told you vat to do? 
 Go avay!" 
 
 "He has something of great importance to say to 
 you. Perhaps he will make terms," continued Hope, 
 wishing to bring the two men together, so that he 
 might not have too much responsibility on his own 
 shoulders. 
 
 Jean Bevoir demurred and was evidently seconded 
 by some other Frenchmen within the post, but at last 
 he consented to talk to Joseph Morris, provided the 
 planter would come to the gate unattended. 
 Secretly the French trader was anxious to know 
 just what the English had in mind to do. 
 
 Hope went back and delivered his message. At 
 once Dave, Henry, and Barringford set up another 
 protest. 
 
 "There is sure to be treachery, father!" cried 
 Henry. "Why, they may even shoot you down in 
 cold blood. You do not know the temper of these 
 black-hearted rascals." 
 
 "I do not think they will dare to go as far as 
 that," answered Joseph Morris. He was brave- 
 hearted to the core. "If they do kill me attack them 
 and show no mercy," he added. 
 
CRUSHING NEWS 241 
 
 The conference between Jean Bevoir and the 
 planter took place an hour later. Joseph Morris, 
 waving a white handkerchief, approached the front 
 of the trading post boldly. He saw himself covered 
 by several rifle barrels, but did not falter. As he 
 came to a halt there was a slight noise, as a short 
 ladder was thrown into place, and then the head of 
 Jean Bevoir appeared over the stockade gate. 
 
 "Hullo! Jean Bevoir has shown himself!" cried 
 Dave, who was at a distance. "I must say, I didn't 
 think he would do it." 
 
 "He wants us to believe that he is not afraid," 
 answered Henry. "Probably he has been fortifying 
 his courage with a few drinks of rum." And in this 
 guess Henry hit the nail on the head. 
 
 "Jean Bevoir," began James Morris. "Do you 
 realize that you have committed a great wrong?" 
 
 "I haf done no wrong," returned the Frenchman, 
 stubbornly. "This post ees mine; I shall keep 
 heem." 
 
 "You killed my brother." 
 
 "It ees not so, — I did not touch heem." 
 
 "But he is dead, is not that true?" demanded the 
 planter, with a sudden hope swaying in his heart. 
 
 "Yees, he ees dead. But I did it not, no. An 
 Indian shot heem down — who, I know not. He vas 
 badly wounded, an' I, yes, I hees enemy, took care of 
 
242 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 heem, oui, until he died. Zen I gif heem a good 
 burial. Vat can I do more? He not do so much 
 for Jean Bevoir, no! no!" 
 
 "You caused his death — the attack on him and 
 his companions was your work, — it is useless to deny 
 it. And this post is not yours. Since my brother 
 is dead it belongs to his son, David Morris, — and 
 he shall have it, be the cost what it may. Jean 
 Bevoir, you must surrender, or take the conse- 
 quences." 
 
 At this plain speech the Frenchman grew slightly 
 pale. But he quickly recovered. 
 
 "Ha ! Take care how you threaten Jean Bevoir !" 
 he exclaimed. "Ve are veil armed here an' ve can 
 shoot! Haf I not told you zat zis post ees mine? 
 I haf ze papers, wid ze signature of James Morris, 
 oui! Ze law ees as good for me as for you, an' I 
 snap my fmgair at you !" Jean Bevoir suited the 
 action to the word. "Go avay, an' nevair come here 
 again!" 
 
 "You have my brother's signature ? Impossible ! 
 It must be a forgery ! He would never deal in that 
 way with such as you." 
 
 "Eet ees true, an' I warn you avay. Come back 
 again at your peril !" answered Jean Bevoir, and then 
 disappeared from view. 
 
 This was a signal that the conference was at an 
 
CRUSHING NEWS 243 
 
 end. Turning swiftly, Joseph Morris walked back 
 into the forest. Barringford and the others ex- 
 pected a shot or two, but nothing of the kind came. 
 
 ''What did he say?" asked Henry, rushing up. 
 
 "He will give in to nothing," answered the 
 planter, with a sigh. 
 
 "And father — what of father?" questioned Dave. 
 He could hardly utter the words. 
 
 James Morris stepped to his side and caught Dave 
 by both arms. 
 
 "It's too bad, my boy," he said, tenderly. 
 
 "Then he is— is " 
 
 "Yes, lad — he was badly wounded, so Jean Bevoir 
 says, and died some time later." 
 
 Dave staggered and sank down on a fallen tree. 
 Never had he felt so miserable before. For days 
 and weeks he had been hoping against hope — and 
 now it had all been in vain. His father was gone, 
 and he was left alone in the world. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 BY WAY OF THE TUNNEL 
 
 "There is one consolation : if we cannot get into 
 the post they cannot very well get out. If the worst 
 comes to the worst maybe we can starve them into 
 submission." 
 
 Henry uttered the words after a long council of 
 war between his father and the other men of the 
 expedition. All had withdrawn to the shelter of the 
 forest, and were keeping a close watch on the trading 
 post. 
 
 Dave took but little interest in what was said. 
 He was thinking of the loss of his father. It was a 
 terrible blow, and he did not see how he would ever 
 get over it. 
 
 "Your plan is all right, Henry, but it would take 
 too long," said Sam Barringford. "More'n likely 
 Bevoir an' his crowd have a good stock o' rations on 
 hand an' kin hold out all winter. They have shelter 
 while we have none. I've got another plan, al- 
 though it's mighty risky. Don't ye remember thet 
 tunnel from the yard out into this forest? If the 
 
 244 
 
BY WAY OF THE TUNNEL 245 
 
 rascals ain't discovered thet we might use it in the 
 dark an' git into the post thet way." 
 
 "Yes! yes!" cried Henry, brightening. "The 
 tunnel Tony Jadwin and I used. It came out in a 
 hollow tree only a short distance from here. I am 
 sure I can find the tree easily enough." 
 
 "It is more than likely they have found the tun- 
 nel," answered Joseph Morris. "And if so, they 
 will watch it, or block it up." 
 
 "I'm a-goin' to take a look," said the old frontiers- 
 man. 
 
 While the majority of the men continued to watch 
 the trading post, to guard against a possible attack 
 by those inside, the planter, Barringford, Henry, and 
 Dave walked to the hollow tree. How this was used 
 before has already been told in another volume of 
 this series. 
 
 It was an easy matter for Sam Barringford to let 
 himself down into the hollow tree. He had to clear 
 away a little snow, but found the tunnel practically 
 empty. It was only a small affair, dug for bitter 
 emergency, and ran directly from the hollow tree 
 under the palisade, and came out near a corner of the 
 storehouse. It had several turns, around rocks and 
 roots of trees long since cut down, and it took some 
 time for the old frontiersman to worm his way along 
 until he reached the vicinity of its termination. 
 
246 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 To light his way, Barringford had brought along 
 a small torch, and now he stuck this behind him, in 
 the wall of the tunnel. In front of him was a large 
 flat stone, covering the end of the passageway. 
 
 He placed his ear to the stone and listened. Not 
 a sound broke the stillness beyond, and gently but 
 firmly he pushed on one end of the stone. It was 
 frozen fast, but at last came away, letting down a 
 small shower of snow. 
 
 "Covered with snow, eh?" he murmured to him- 
 self. "So much the better. They ain't found it, an' 
 more'n likely they don't know a thing about it." 
 
 With extreme caution he continued to push upon 
 the stone, until he had raised up one end a foot or 
 more. Beyond, he now discovered a drift of snow, 
 covered with an icy crust. All he had to do was to 
 clear away the snow, break the crust, and step out 
 into the open, less than ten feet away from the door 
 to the storehouse and stable. 
 
 Not deeming it wise to go further in the daylight, 
 Barringford allowed the stone to drop into place 
 once more, and wormed his way back to the hollow 
 tree. The others were anxiously awaiting his re- 
 turn. 
 
 "What did you find ?" asked Henry. 
 
 "We can git in that way, if we want to," answered 
 the old frontiersman, and related the particulars. 
 
BY WAY OF THE TUNNEL 247 
 
 Dave was for entering the post at once, but Joseph 
 Morris shook his head, and Barringford did the 
 same. 
 
 "We had better wait until nightfall," said the 
 planter, "and in the meantime perhaps we can throw 
 Jean Bevoir off his guard." 
 
 "Let us pretend to go away," said Henry. "Have 
 a talk with him, and say you will come back with a 
 company of regulars from Fort Pitt." 
 
 This was considered a good suggestion, and a lit- 
 tle later Joseph Morris walked again into the open, 
 waving his white handkerchief. At first nobody 
 paid attention to him. Then Bevoir showed himself 
 once more. 
 
 "Jean Bevoir, we have talked matters over," began 
 the planter. "We want you to consider well before 
 you decide. Will you give up the post, or do you 
 want us to return to Fort Pitt and bring a company 
 of soldiers here to fight you?" 
 
 "I vill not give up ze post, no !" shouted the 
 French trader. 
 
 "Then you want us to bring the soldiers from 
 Fort Pitt?" 
 
 "You cannot do zat," was the reply, but a look of 
 anxiety crossed the bronzed features of the French 
 rascal. 
 
 "I think I can do it. Captain Ecuyer is my 
 
248 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 friend, and was the friend of my brother. He will 
 aid us all he can." 
 
 "Ze post ees mine, haf I not said so before? Ze 
 capitaine must respect Jean Bevoir's rights. Ven he 
 comes here I show heem ze papairs. He must re- 
 spect ze document, oui" 
 
 "You have no right to this place, and I know it," 
 answered Joseph Morris, doggedly. "Then you will 
 not give up?" 
 
 "No, nevair!" 
 
 "Then, when we bring the soldiers, the conse- 
 quence be on your own head," said the trader, and 
 walked away to join his friends. He was just enter- 
 ing the forest when a rifle shot rang out and the 
 'bullet whistled close to his ear. 
 
 "The skunks!" roared Sam Barringford. "Didn't 
 I tell ye they wasn't to be trusted?" 
 
 "I think I have fooled them," said the planter. 
 The shot had somewhat disturbed him, but he did 
 not show it. "Now, let us pretend to break camp 
 and march away." 
 
 This was done with great skillfulness, at a point 
 where those in the post could see what was going on. 
 Everything was packed on the horses and they 
 moved off, up the Ohio. They continued to journey 
 onward until darkness and a bend in the river hid 
 them from the view of their enemy. 
 
BY WAY OF THE TUNNEL 249 
 
 "Now to get back, and get ready for the attack," 
 said Joseph Morris, and he had Barringford lead the 
 way, by a route deep in the forest, where it would 
 be impossible for anybody at the post to catch sight 
 of them. 
 
 The marching away of the expedition was viewed 
 with interest by Jean Bevoir, Moon Eye, and their 
 followers. At first they imagined it might be a ruse, 
 but then concluded that Joseph Morris really in- 
 tended to go to Fort Pitt for assistance. 
 
 "What he said about Captain Ecuyer is true," said 
 Benoit Vascal to Jean Bevoir, in their own tongue. 
 "The Morrises were warm friends of the fort com- 
 mandant. He will surely do all he can for them." 
 
 "The soldiers will aid their own," said Moon Eye. 
 "Did not these whites get aid when Moon Eye 
 was fighting them? If they reach Fort Pitt and 
 obtain assistance it may go hard with all of us." 
 
 "It is a long journey," said Jean Bevoir. 
 
 "Yes, but spring is at hand," answered Moon Eye. 
 "Soon the trail will be open, and then the journey 
 will not be difficult. The soldiers will be glad of a 
 march, after being housed up so long." 
 
 "And what do you advise?" asked the French 
 trader. 
 
 "Let us follow them on the sly and shoot them 
 down. They will not dream of our leaving the post. 
 
250 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 We can fall upon them when they are asleep and kill 
 them to a man." 
 
 "Yes ! yes ! let us do that !" said a warrior who was 
 eager for bloodshed. "Remember the saying, 'the 
 dead bear brings no news to her cubs.' ' 
 
 A general council of war was held, and the upshot 
 of the matter was that it was decided to leave the 
 post under the care of two of the Frenchmen and 
 two Indians. All of the others, including Moon 
 Eye, Jean Bevoir, and Benoit Vascal, prepared to 
 follow up the Morris expedition as soon as it seemed 
 safe to do so. 
 
 Unconscious of what was in the minds of their 
 enemy, our friends made a long detour through the 
 mighty forest and arrived in the vicinity of the post 
 once more shortly after midnight. They found 
 everything remarkably quiet and not a single light 
 of any kind was showing. 
 
 Barringford lost no time in entering the tunnel, 
 followed by Dave and Henry. The others came 
 after, each taking his gun and hunting knife with 
 him. 
 
 "Be cautious," warned Joseph Morris. "Do not 
 risk a shot needlessly." 
 
 When the old frontiersman reached the flat stone 
 he shoved it up as before. All was still quiet and 
 dark, and scraping away some of the snow he broke 
 
BY WAY OF THE TUNNEL 25 I 
 
 the icy covering and peered forth. He could see the 
 storehouse and stable and above was the clear sky, 
 with the stars twinkling far overhead. 
 
 "Nobuddy in sight," he whispered, after a careful 
 survey of the surroundings. 
 
 He stepped out of the tunnel and like a ghost 
 vanished into a dark angle of the storehouse build- 
 ing. Dave and Henry followed him, and then came 
 Joseph Morris and some others. 
 
 The hearts of all beat rapidly, for they felt that 
 they were taking their lives in their hands. A dis- 
 covery might mean death for many and perhaps all 
 of them. 
 
 "Ha! I see a man!" whispered Barringford, and 
 pointed out a Frenchman, stationed, gun in hand, 
 near the stockade gate. 
 
 "And there is an Indian," put in Dave, pointing 
 to another portion of the post defense. 
 
 Try their best they could see no others on guard. 
 The Frenchman and the Indian walked up and down 
 slowly, stopping every few minutes to peer through 
 one loophole or another. 
 
 "The others must be asleep," whispered Joseph 
 Morris. "If so we may be able to surprise them 
 completely." 
 
 In a few minutes all of the party were out of the 
 tunnel. Several looked into the stable and store 
 
252 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 house, to find both empty, saving for stores, pelts, 
 and horses. 
 
 "Let us move to the main building," whispered 
 Joseph Morris. "At the first sign of an outbreak, 
 fire on them and show them no quarter." 
 
 ''They need expect no quarter from me, Jean Be- 
 voir especially," answered Dave, grimly. 
 
 The entrance to the main building was gained, and 
 still they caught sight of nobody but the two guards 
 near the stockade. Softly the door was pushed 
 open and Sam Barringford entered, followed by 
 Joseph Morris and Dave and Henry. 
 
 A bright fire burnt in the big open chimney, cast- 
 ing a ruddy glare around the room. In front of the 
 fire, on the floor, lay an Indian, snoring lustily. 
 On a couch in a corner rested a Frenchman, also 
 asleep. 
 
 Without awaking the sleepers, Dave and Henry 
 glided into the sleeping room of the post. Here it 
 was dark, and they had to go slow, for fear of 
 arousing somebody. They felt their way from 
 bunk to bunk, listening intently and putting forth 
 cautious hands. Then they tiptoed their way back 
 to the main room. 
 
 "The bunks are empty !" whispered Dave, and 
 Henry nodded. 
 
 "All of them?" queried Joseph Morris. 
 
BY WAY OF THE TUNNEL 253 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "They must be outside — maybe they are going to 
 trap us after all," came softly from Sam Barring- 
 ford. "We had better " 
 
 He stopped short and raised his long rifle. The 
 sleeping Frenchman had roused up and was staring 
 at the intruders. He rubbed his eyes in bewilder- 
 ment. 
 
 "What want you here?" he stammered, in French. 
 
 "Silence!" came sternly from the old frontiers- 
 man. "Silence, ef ye don't want to be kilt!" 
 
 The Frenchman understood little of English, but 
 he understood enough, and he calmly submitted to 
 being bound with a rope that was handy. In the 
 midst of the work the Indian awoke, gave a swift 
 look around, and started for the doorway, uttering a 
 war-cry as he did so. 
 
 "Stop!" cried Joseph Morris, and fired his rifle at 
 the red warrior. His aim was true, and the Indian 
 went down, wounded in the back. Then came a 
 shout from outside in French, followed by a war- 
 whoop. 
 
 "We must fight for it now !" cried Henry. 
 
 "I am ready!" answered Dave. "Come on ! The 
 quicker we get at them the better!" 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 HOLDING THE TRADING POST 
 
 All ran out of the main building, looking in 
 every direction for the enemy. They expected to 
 be confronted by at least a dozen Frenchmen and 
 Indians, and when these did not appear James Morris 
 and his followers were much perplexed. 
 
 The Indian at the stockade fired on them, and so 
 did the Frenchman at the gate. Our friends fired in 
 return, and the Frenchman went down with two 
 bullets in his breast. The Indian was slightly 
 wounded, and as he saw the others pouring from the 
 main building, he turned back to the stockade, ran 
 to one of the corners, climbed up and over, and dis- 
 appeared from view. 
 
 "He is running away!" cried Dave. "Something 
 is wrong here! Where can Jean Bevoir be?" 
 
 Nobody attempted to answer that question, just 
 then. The party scattered throughout the grounds 
 and the buildings, looking in all directions for the 
 enemy. But nobody was found outside of those 
 already seen. 
 
 254 
 
HOLDING THE TRADING POST 255 
 
 "They have disappeared," said Joseph Morris. 
 "Can it be possible that they have gone out to follow 
 us up?" 
 
 "That's it!" shouted Henry. "They didn't want 
 us to go to Fort Pitt for aid." 
 
 "Henry must have hit the truth," said Sam Bar- 
 ringford. "It's a lucky thing fer us. We have 
 gained the post with no loss at all." 
 
 "But it remains to be seen if we can hold it," an- 
 swered Joseph Morris, quickly. 
 
 "Don't forget that Indian who got away," added 
 Dave. "He will carry the news to the others as 
 soon as he can, and they will be about our ears in no 
 time." 
 
 "We must prepare to defend this place," said his 
 uncle. "I will call the men together, and we can 
 go over our plans. Dave, you know more of this 
 post than I do. How had we best distribute the 
 men?" 
 
 Dave told of what had been done in the past, and 
 soon the men were put on guard, two at the gate, 
 one at each corner of the stockade, and the others 
 at a point in the center of the grounds, from which 
 they could run to any spot where they were needed. 
 Each man was armed with two rifles, and some of 
 them had a pistol besides, — old Spanish weapons 
 and extra long. 
 
256 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "We must not forget that our horses are still in 
 the forest and likewise that sick man," said Joseph 
 Morris. "If possible, we ought to bring them in." 
 
 "If you say so, I'll go after them," answered his 
 son. "I am not afraid to do it." 
 
 At first the planter demurred, but finally consented 
 to let Henry go, accompanied by Sam Barringford. 
 They did not wish their pack-train to fall into the 
 hands of Bevoir and Moon Eye, for that would give 
 the enemy a great advantage. Besides, they felt it 
 their duty to care for the stranger who had sought 
 their aid. 
 
 "You must return with all possible speed," said 
 Joseph Morris, when Henry and Barringford were 
 departing. "If you hurry you will likely get back 
 before Jean Bevoir starts to return to this post." 
 
 The two departed by climbing the stockade at one 
 of the corners, and lost not a moment in getting into 
 the shelter of the timber. Here they looked around 
 carefully, but could not find a single trace of their 
 enemy or of the Indian who had vanished. 
 
 The Indian who had been wounded in the short 
 fight at the post refused to speak when questioned. 
 Dave recognized him as one of Moon Eye's followers 
 whom he had met before. When the red warrior 
 saw the youth he merely scowled and turned his face 
 away. A little later he lapsed into unconsciousness. 
 
HOLDING THE TRADING POST 257 
 
 and nobody paid further attention to him, thinking 
 he was about to breathe his last. 
 
 The Frenchman who had been captured was a man 
 Henry and Barringford had met several times. He 
 was a lawless and brutal fellow, given to heavy 
 drinking, and he took his capture with an air of 
 bravo and told them to do their worst if they chose. 
 
 "What has become of Jean Bevoir?" asked Mr. 
 Morris of the man. 
 
 "Jean, he ees ze big fool," was the answer. "He 
 go to catch you — you come here an' tak post. By 
 gar ! dat ees big fool t'ing !" 
 
 "Tell me about my father," said Dave. "How 
 was he wounded and how did he die?" 
 
 "Vat I know 'bout dat? I no keel heem! I no 
 see heem 't all. Jean, he fix dat, I tell you!" And 
 the Frenchman winked suggestively. 
 
 "I suppose you mean that Bevoir killed my 
 father," went on Dave, bitterly. 
 
 "I no say dat, no. You ask Jean — he tell truth — 
 I haf noddings to do wid dat, no!" And then the 
 Frenchman would say no more on the subject, nor 
 would he say what had become of the others who 
 had accompanied James Morris. Evidently he did 
 not wish to render himself liable in any manner if it 
 could be avoided. 
 
 Slowly the night wore away and morning dawned, 
 
258 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 bright and clear. To the chagrin of those at the 
 post neither Henry nor Barringford showed himself, 
 nor did they see anything of the sick man or the 
 horses. 
 
 "I hope they have not gotten into trouble," said 
 Joseph Morris. "Yet, if all went well, they should 
 have been here long before this." 
 
 It was about nine o'clock in the morning when 
 they heard several shots at a distance. They 
 watched eagerly, and presently saw Sam Barring- 
 ford, on horseback, riding with might and main for 
 the post. 
 
 "Sam is coming !" cried Dave, running to the 
 gate. "Put down the bars and let him in !" 
 
 The bars were loosened and the big gate opened, 
 and a minute later the old frontiersman swept 
 through the opening. He was so exhausted he 
 almost dropped from his steed. 
 
 'Ts Henry here?" were his first words. 
 
 "No," answered several. 
 
 At this announcement the face of the frontiersman 
 fell. He glanced back toward the forest. 
 
 "It's too bad, but we can't do nuthing now. Bar 
 the gate ag'in, afore they git in on ye !" 
 
 His directions were followed, and soon after this 
 the party under Jean Bevoir and Moon Eye swept 
 into view. They were in a great rage, and doubly 
 
The old frontiersman swept through the opening-. — Page 258. 
 
HOLDING THE TRADING POST 259 
 
 so when they saw how they had been tricked out of 
 the possession of the trading post. 
 
 "Surrendair!" cried Jean Bevoir, as he came 
 closer. "Zat ees my property, an' I call upon you to 
 surrendair !" 
 
 "Keep your distance, or we will fire upon you!" 
 answered Joseph Morris, and to check the advance he 
 had one of his men fire over the enemy's head. At 
 this the advancing party lost no time in secreting 
 itself behind the neighboring trees. 
 
 "Keep a strict watch and sound the alarm at the 
 first outbreak," said the planter, and then walked to 
 where Dave was assisting Sam Barringford from 
 his steed. 
 
 The frontiersman's story was soon told. He and 
 Henry had gone straight to where the pack-train and 
 the sick man had been left, to find the man gone and 
 also one of the horses. They were looking around 
 for the individual and the steed when five Indians 
 pounced upon them and made them prisoners. The 
 Indians took them into the forest and also led the 
 horses away. From their talk they were evidently a 
 portion of Moon Eye's tribe that was journeying to 
 the post to join their chief. What had become of the 
 sick man none of them appeared to know. 
 
 "We watched our chances," continued Sam Bar- 
 ringford, "and jest when we thought as how we 
 
200 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 could do it, Henry an' I made a break fer liberty. 
 We got on two o' the bosses an' rode as if the Old 
 Nick war after us. The Injuns fired at us, but their 
 aim was no good so far ez I was consarned. In the 
 woods Henry an' I got separated. I thought he 
 rode straight fer here, but I must have been mistook 
 on that p'int. I was coming along full bent when I 
 spotted Jean Bevoir and Moon Eye and thet crowd. 
 Then I knowed I must ride fer all I was wuth, an' 
 I did it." 
 
 "Then Henry must be somewhere in the forest," 
 said Dave. 
 
 "Yes, but if he's alive or dead I don't know," 
 answered Sam Barringford, soberly. 
 
 "I must find out about this," said Joseph Morris. 
 "And I must do it at once." 
 
 "You cannot go out now, Uncle Joe," said Dave, 
 hastily. "They would shoot you on the spot !" 
 
 "No, ye can't go now," added Barringford. 
 
 A short time passed, and then came a hail from 
 without. Looking they saw Jean Bevoir waving a 
 bit of dirty white cloth. 
 
 "He wants another pow-wow," said a frontiers- 
 man at the gate. 
 
 "If I were you I'd not show myself," said Dave, 
 to his uncle, but Joseph Morris mounted the short 
 ladder nevertheless. 
 
HOLDING THE TRADING POST 261 
 
 ''What do you want now?" demanded the 
 planter. 
 
 "I vish to make terms," began Jean Bevoir, and 
 then went over his old story of his rights regarding 
 the post. 
 
 "Jean Bevoir, I do not wish to listen to you," 
 answered the planter. "This post belongs to David 
 Morris, and that is the end of it. The best you can 
 do is to take yourself off and be quick about it. All 
 of this land now belongs to the English, and you 
 Frenchmen have no rights here at all. If you want 
 to establish a post you must do it in French territory. 
 The war with your country and with the Indians is 
 at an end, and you must act according to the treaty 
 of peace. You are accountable for the death of my 
 brother, and that is bad enough, without making 
 matters worse. Go away, and never let me see your 
 face again." 
 
 "I vill go — but I shall come back !" shouted Jean 
 Bevoir, in a rage, and shaking his fist at Joseph 
 Morris he retreated once more behind the trees. 
 
 "Did he say anything about Henry?" asked 
 Dave. 
 
 "No. I will ask him," answered his uncle, and 
 started to call to Jean Bevoir, when Barringford 
 stopped him. 
 
 "Don't ye do it/' said the old frontiersman. 
 
262 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 ''Maybe they don't know Henry is still out, an' if so, 
 it won't be wise to let 'em know." 
 
 "That is true," answered the planter, thought- 
 fully. "I will say nothing. But pray Heaven 
 that my boy is safe !" 
 
 After that the best part of the day passed slowly. 
 The only excitement occurred when the French 
 prisoner broke his bonds and tried to escape. He 
 was overtaken by one of the frontiersmen and a 
 desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued, in which the 
 frontiersman was stabbed in the shoulder. But then 
 the Frenchman received a pistol bullet in his ab- 
 domen and fell flat. He was picked up and taken 
 to the main building of the post, where he received 
 such medical attention as the limited means of the 
 garrison afforded. This did small good, however, 
 and he died at sunrise on the following day. Before 
 he died he tried to tell Dave something about James 
 Morris, but couldn't speak clearly. 
 
 "What do you want to say?" asked Dave. "Tell 
 me if you can." 
 
 "Your f adder, he ees — he ees " said the 
 
 wounded man, and that was as far as he could get. 
 He gasped for breath, tried to sit up, — and a minute 
 later all was over. 
 
 "He must have known something," said Dave, to 
 his uncle. "What was it?" 
 
HOLDING THE TRADING POST 263 
 
 , The planter shook his head. "Do not ask me, 
 Dave," he said, gently. "It is too bad! First your 
 father, and now it may be Henry!" And he turned 
 away to hide the tears that sprang into his eyes. 
 
 Dave could not content himself, and wandered 
 idly from one part of the trading post to another. 
 His father was continually in his mind. He missed 
 his parent as he had never done before. 
 
 Suddenly as he walked along one of the men came 
 running towards him. 
 
 "I say, Dave, have you seen that redskin that was 
 wounded in the fight?" he called out. "The one 
 your uncle shot?" 
 
 "No, I haven't seen him." 
 
 "He is gone — we can't find him anywhere. We 
 all thought he was dying, but it looks now as if he 
 had gotten away," went on the man. 
 
 He turned into the stable and then into a small 
 compartment of the storehouse, where the powder 
 for the post was usually kept. A moment later he 
 came rushing into the open yelling wildly. 
 
 "The Injun's in there !" he gasped. "He has got 
 a torch and is going to set off all the powder and 
 blow us sky-high!" 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 IN WHICH A BATTERING RAM IS USED 
 
 The announcement that the frontiersman made 
 rilled Dave and the others who heard it with horror. 
 For the moment the youth could not believe the evi- 
 dence of his senses. 
 
 "Going to blow us up?" he queried. 
 
 "Yes — look for yourself, if you don't believe it!" 
 And the man ran further away than ever. 
 
 "What does he say?" asked Joseph Morris, who 
 had just come up. 
 
 "He says the Indian you wounded is in the store- 
 house and is going to set fire to the casks of powder 
 stored there." 
 
 "In there ?" returned the planter. 
 
 "Let us stop him — if we can," went on Dave, and 
 rushed forward, without considering the great risk 
 he was assuming by such action. 
 
 He ran into the storehouse, and his uncle came at 
 his heels. Sure enough, the wounded Indian was 
 there, firebrand in hand. He was waving it over a 
 powder keg that was broken open and muttering a 
 
 264 
 
IN WHICH A BATTERING RAM IS USED 265 
 
 weird chant. He knew that he was mortally 
 wounded, and if he had to die he wanted his hated 
 enemies to die with him. 
 
 Dave and his uncle gazed on the scene as if bound 
 by a spell. A single spark from that torch dropped 
 into the powder would mean death and destruction 
 to nearly everybody and everything in the post. The 
 Indian was calm and continued to chant. 
 
 Presently, with a start, Dave broke the spell that 
 bound him. He made one swift leap, caught the 
 torch from behind and sent it whizzing away 
 through the open doorway. Some sparks dropped 
 to the floor and as they fell his foot covered 
 them. 
 
 The Indian, taken completely off his guard, turned 
 in consternation. The youth sprang upon him and 
 bore him to the floor. Then Joseph Morris leaped 
 in, and together they dragged the miscreant out of 
 the building. 
 
 A crowd of half a dozen had collected. They saw 
 the torch and saw the red man pushed and dragged 
 into the open. They waited for an explosion, but 
 it did not come. Then all began to breathe 
 easier. 
 
 "Dave, you saved us all !" It was Joseph Morris 
 who spoke. The great beads of perspiration were 
 standing out on his forehead. 
 
266 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 "I — I am glad if I did," answered the youth. 
 Now the danger was past, he found himself trem- 
 bling like a leaf. 
 
 "Kill that Injun!" was the cry. "Kill him! He 
 ain't fit to live!" 
 
 Swiftly the crowd turned on the red man. The 
 Indian had sunk on the ground in a heap. His 
 wound had broken afresh and he was gasping 
 heavily. Barringford ran to him, hunting knife in 
 hand. Then the old frontiersman shook his head 
 and motioned the others back. 
 
 "He's dying, men," he said. "Let him alone." 
 
 "Are ye sure o' thet, Sam?" asked one 
 man. 
 
 "Dead sartin." And Barringford's words proved 
 true, for the Indian expired soon after. 
 
 The alarm had put everybody in the post on his 
 mettle, and a strict hunt was made, to see if anybody 
 else was in hiding around the place. Nobody 
 was found, and gradually the garrison settled 
 down. 
 
 "It is maddening to think that Henry is missing," 
 said Joseph Morris, shortly after the noon hour. 
 "I would give a great deal to know what has become 
 of him." 
 
 "And I'd like to know what Jean Bevoir intends 
 to do next," returned his nephew. 
 
IN WHICH A BATTERING RAM IS USED 267 
 
 "He and his followers may wait until to-night and 
 then attack us." 
 
 Slowly the rest of the day wore away, and 
 during that time all in the post made themselves as 
 comfortable as possible. An examination of the 
 stores showed that the Frenchmen and Indians had 
 provided themselves with plenty of food, so the 
 present garrison would not suffer in that respect. 
 
 "So far as rations are concerned, we can hold this 
 place for a month," said Joseph Morris. "And as 
 the river is so near, they cannot very well close off 
 our water supply." 
 
 "Jean Bevoir won't wait to starve us out," said 
 Barringford. "He'll attack us, or do somethin' else, 
 mark my words." 
 
 An early supper was had, and then the men on 
 guard began a closer vigilance than ever. Every 
 tree and bush and every rock without was closely 
 watched. The tunnel had been shut up in such a 
 way that it could not be used for the time being. 
 
 So far there had been little wind, but now a strong 
 breeze came up. Hardly had it started than a 
 shower of fire arrows came sailing over the stockade, 
 to land in many directions. 
 
 "They are going to try to set fire to the build- 
 ings !" cried Dave. 
 
 "Put out the arrows !" cried Joseph Morris, and 
 
268 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 ran for some wet bags. With the bags the majority 
 of the fire arrows were quickly extinguished. Two 
 lodged on the roof of the main building, and Dave 
 climbed up to put them out. 
 
 "Be careful, — don't expose yourself!" exclaimed 
 his uncle. 
 
 The instant Dave made a whack with his wet bag 
 at the fire arrow several other arrows flew in the 
 direction, one striking his hunting shirt. The flame 
 on it burnt fiercely and set fire to the youth's gar- 
 ments. 
 
 ''Look out, you're burning!" cried one man. 
 
 "Roll down in the snow!" came from Sam Bar- 
 ringford. 
 
 This was good advice, and Dave lost no time in 
 following it. Down he came in a pile of snow and 
 rolled over and over, and the small blaze was im- 
 mediately extinguished. 
 
 One of the arrows shot last had got a good hold 
 between the logs of the roof and was burning at a 
 lively rate. 
 
 "We ought to have some water," said Joseph 
 Morris. 
 
 "Snow will do," answered the old frontiersman, 
 and taking up a good-sized chunk, he hurled it at 
 the arrow. His aim was good and the fire was 
 blotted out. Then others took up handfuls of snow, 
 
IN WHICH A BATTERING RAM IS USED 269 
 
 and as soon as the burning arrows appeared, covered 
 them completely; so that that new danger was 
 quickly past. 
 
 The Indians under Moon Eye had hoped much 
 from their burning arrows and were deeply 
 chagrined to see them put out so easily. They sent 
 out half a hundred or less and then ceased opera- 
 tions. 
 
 "The snow has aided them," grunted the chief 
 in disgust. "We must try some other plan." 
 
 "Why not get a battering ram and ram down the 
 gate?" asked Benoit Vascal of Jean Bevoir, in 
 French. 
 
 The Frenchman suggested this to Moon Eye. 
 The Indian leader was willing, provided the French- 
 men would use the ram, leaving the Indians to enter 
 the post after the gate was down. 
 
 During the early part of the evening, another band 
 of red men and several Frenchmen had come up, 
 friendly to Moon Eye and to Bevoir. They joined 
 forces with those besieging the post, making those 
 without much stronger than before. Jean Bevoir 
 promised the Indians and his countrymen all sorts of 
 things if they would aid in capturing the post and 
 in killing all the whites found defending it. 
 
 The plan to batter down the gate was carefully 
 made. A fair-sized tree was cut down and trimmed 
 
270 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 off, leaving just enough of the branches to make 
 good handles. This battering ram was brought up 
 in the forest in a direct line with the stockade gate. 
 At the front was placed a shield of loose branches 
 and bark. 
 
 It the meantime, it was decided that six Indians 
 should go to the rear of the post and make a demon- 
 stration there, shouting loudly and firing their guns 
 and arrows, — doing this to draw the attention of the 
 post defenders to that point. When the alarm was 
 at its height, the battering ram was to be used with 
 all force and as swiftly as possible. The moment 
 the gate was down, Indians and Frenchmen were to 
 rush into the post grounds and slaughter all who 
 opposed them. 
 
 Having eaten his supper after the others, Sam 
 Barringford walked around the entire stockade, 
 questioning all who were on guard. Nobody had 
 seen either a Frenchman or an Indian, although con- 
 stantly on the alert. 
 
 "Tell ye wot I heard though," said one frontiers- 
 man to Barringford. "I heard 'em choppin' down a 
 tree over yonder." 
 
 "Sure it war a tree, Collins?" asked the old fron- 
 tiersman, with interest. 
 
 "I am." 
 
 "Humph!" 
 
IN WHICH A BATTERING RAM IS USED 27 1 
 
 Sam Barringford said no more, but went straight 
 to Joseph Morris. 
 
 "We want to watch thet gate harder nor ever," 
 he announced. 
 
 "Why, Sam?" 
 
 "They have been cuttin' down a tree." 
 
 "Ha ! Do you think they wish to use it for a 
 battering ram?" 
 
 "Don't know wot else they'd want it fer. Any- 
 way, it won't hurt to watch the gate extry well." 
 
 "I'll have it done," answered the planter, and was 
 as good as his word. 
 
 Another hour went by and still the silence around 
 the trading post continued. A few of the men were 
 sleepy, but they were ordered to keep awake. 
 
 "Our sleeping will be done in the daytime after 
 this — until the alarm is at an end," said Joseph 
 Morris. 
 
 Suddenly there burst upon the night air a chorus 
 of wild yells, coming from a point at the rear of 
 the stockade. The six Indians sent to that place 
 appeared, but took care to keep out of range of the 
 frontiersmen's rifles. 
 
 "They are coming — over the back stockade !" was 
 the cry. 
 
 "Don't run that way yet!" roared Sam Barring- 
 ford. "Watch the gate ! Watch the gate !" 
 
272 TRAIL AND TRADING l'OST 
 
 Some of the men paused in bewilderment. Look- 
 ing to the front, they could see nobody. From the 
 rear a shot rang out, followed by several others, and 
 then came a shower of arrows. 
 
 "Pretend to go back — and then turn and watch the 
 gate," ordered Joseph Morris. 
 
 The men obeyed. But Dave remained at the gate, 
 his eye glued to a near loophole. Only the stars 
 were shining, so he had to watch closely in order to 
 see anything at all. 
 
 The demonstration at the rear of the post went on, 
 and now the Indians became a little bolder, running 
 to within fifty yards of the palisade. As a conse- 
 quence one received a bullet wound in his arm, and 
 then all slipped behind the trees. 
 
 "Here they come !" yelled Dave, suddenly. "Here 
 they come ! Sam, quick ! They have a battering 
 ram !" 
 
 "Jest as I supposed !" returned the old frontiers- 
 man. "Give it to 'em, Dave!" 
 
 Crack ! went the rifle of the youth and one of the 
 Frenchmen carrying the ram staggered for a mo- 
 ment, grazed in the side. Then the crowd came for- 
 ward, swiftly and silently. Barringford took aim 
 and fired, and another Frenchman dropped back, 
 seriously wounded. But the others did not pause. 
 
 Crash ! The battering ram struck the grate with 
 
IN WHICH A BATTERING RAM IS USED 273 
 
 great force, causing it to quiver from top to bottom. 
 But the posts and the oaken bars held, and those out- 
 side had to run back with the tree-trunk. 
 
 "Fire on 'em! Fire on 'em!" yelled Barringford, 
 and he and Dave let drive a second time, and two 
 other defenders followed suit. The men with the 
 battering ram came up, but just as they were within 
 three yards of the gate one of the leaders staggered 
 and fell, shot through the knee. This confused the 
 others, and the second blow on the gate was, conse- 
 quently, a feeble one. 
 
 "Again! Again!" shrieked Jean Bevoir. "Up 
 with the log!" he added, in French. "Remember 
 the reward, if you get into the post! Now then, 
 all together !" 
 
 Once more those outside raised the battering ram 
 and ran back with it. They paused for a moment, 
 to gather their strength. Then they hurled them- 
 selves forward, and the ram hit the gate with a crash 
 that was deafening, causing the splinters to fly in 
 all directions. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 FROM ENEMIES TO FRIENDS 
 
 It is now necessary to go back a little, to learn 
 how poor Henry fared, after he and Sam Barring- 
 ford escaped from the Indians who had made them 
 prisoners. 
 
 Henry was on a good horse, but in leaping over 
 some rocks the steed went down into a hollow, strik- 
 ing its head heavily. The youth was thrown off, 
 and he and his steed were both stunned. 
 
 When Henry recovered he was again in the 
 clutches of the red men. Three of them surrounded 
 him and threatened to take his life on the spot if he 
 did not submit, and they soon after bound his hands 
 behind him with rawhides. The horse was found 
 to be still fit for use, and Henry was bound on the 
 animal's back. Then the party of Indians journeyed 
 off to parts unknown. 
 
 Henry had suffered before, but now his red cap- 
 tors treated him worse than ever. They were a low 
 grade of warriors, in reality outcasts, and hardly 
 knew what to do with their white prisoner. They 
 
 274 
 
FROM ENEMIES TO FRIENDS 275 
 
 moved on for several miles, and then went into camp 
 near the bank of the Ohio. Here they took Henry 
 from the horse and fastened him to a tree. They 
 had some food for themselves, but did not offer their 
 captive a mouthful. They did, however, give him a 
 drink, for which he was thankful. 
 
 Henry wondered if Barringford had escaped or 
 been shot down. He saw no new scalp among the 
 red men, which gave him a slight hope. 
 
 "If he got away maybe he will bring somebody to 
 rescue me," thought the youth, but hour after hour 
 went by, and nobody came near the camp. 
 
 Fortunately for Henry, the weather was exceed- 
 ingly mild, so that he suffered little from the cold. 
 He tried several times to question the Indians, but 
 they understood little English and were not inclined 
 to answer the questions he put. One slapped him in 
 the face and another put a handful of soft snow 
 down his back. Then they went away, to talk among 
 themselves, leaving him alone. 
 
 He tried with might and main to either slip or 
 break the bonds which bound him, but with no suc- 
 cess. He looked around for some other means of 
 getting away, but nothing presented itself. 
 
 Soon after consulting among themselves, some of 
 the Indians went away, leaving only one red man on 
 guard. This fellow, a warrior with a visage hor- 
 
276 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 ribly pitted from smallpox, and a squint in one eye, 
 wrapped himself in his blanket and sat down on a 
 log, his bow and arrows across his knees. 
 
 A half-hour slipped by and the Indian dropped 
 into a doze. Henry watched him with interest, 
 and a little later saw that the warrior was fast 
 asleep. 
 
 "Now, if only I could break these bonds and get 
 away!" sighed the youth to himself. 
 
 Once again he went at the rawhide, but all he 
 could do was to cut his wrists. At last he gave up 
 in despair. 
 
 The other Indians came back soon after this, 
 bringing some additional warriors with them. One 
 could speak English, and he questioned Henry 
 closely about himself and about those at the trading 
 post. 
 
 "Let me go and I will reward you well," said 
 Henry, after he saw that the red men had no inten- 
 tion of giving him his liberty. 
 
 Instead of agreeing to this, the Indian asked the 
 youth about Jean Bevoir and Moon Eye. Then 
 Henry was left once again to himself, while two 
 Indians went off on a run, — to interview the French 
 trader, as it afterwards proved. 
 
 The upshot of the matter was that Henry was 
 taken to the camp Jean Bevoir and Moon Eye had 
 
FROM ENEMIES TO FRIENDS 277 
 
 made in the forest. Bevoir hailed the coming of the 
 young prisoner with keen delight. 
 
 "Ha ! so ve haf at least von of dem !" said he, 
 rubbing his hands together. "How you like to be 
 prisonair, hey?" 
 
 "Not at all," answered Henry, bluntly. "Now 
 you have me, what do you intend to do, Jean Be- 
 voir?" 
 
 "You shall soon see, oui!" I haf not forgot ze 
 past, no! no! I tak care of you, by gar!" And 
 Jean Bevoir shook his fist in poor Henry's face. 
 
 "You will gain nothing by mistreating me," went 
 on the youth, as steadily as he could. "Sooner or 
 later the law will get hold of you. The best thing 
 you can do is to let me go." 
 
 "I not let you go. Ve shall fight zem at ze post. 
 Ve vin sure — but if ve lose, hey? I haf you, hey? 
 Vat can za do to Jean Bevoir if you be a prisonair, 
 hey? If za keel me den my men keel you! Now 
 you understand, oui?" 
 
 Henry did understand, and it made his heart sink 
 lower than ever. By holding him a prisoner the 
 Frenchman expected to keep himself from harm. 
 If he was captured he would warn his captors not to 
 harm him, otherwise Henry must suffer. 
 
 The preparations for attacking the post were now 
 going forward, and a little later Henry was removed 
 
278 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 in the care of two Indians to a station still further 
 up the Ohio. Here some of the red men had 
 something of a village, and here, to his astonishment, 
 the youth found many of the horses of the pack-train 
 and also the sick man who had so mysteriously dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 The sick man lay in a wigwam on some blankets. 
 Strange to relate, his recent adventures had not made 
 him any weaker than he had formerly been; in fact, 
 they appeared to have helped him. 
 
 "I, too, tried to get away, on one of the horses," 
 he said. "But some Indians followed me up, and 
 captured me. They brought me to this place, and 
 an old Indian medicine man gave me some medicine 
 which has helped me wonderfully." 
 
 The man then wanted to know something about 
 Henry, and the youth told him as much as he deemed 
 necessary. The two were in the midst of the con- 
 versation when two Indians came in and hustled 
 Henry out of the wigwam and to another part of the 
 village. 
 
 "White people talk too much," said one of the 
 Indians, thereby giving the youth to understand 
 that they did not wish the pair to consult together. 
 
 From what little Henry had learned he was now 
 certain that a strong attack was to be made on the 
 trading post. As a consequence he wanted to get 
 
FROM ENEMIES TO FRIENDS 2/9 
 
 free more than ever, that he might warn his 
 friends. 
 
 His bonds were not the same as those which had 
 kept him a prisoner before, and by working dili- 
 gently over them, he managed at last to get one hand 
 free. The other quickly followed, and then he freed 
 his feet. 
 
 He was alone in the wigwam, the Indians in the 
 village having gathered to hold a pow-wow, the 
 question being how much they should do to aid 
 Moon Eye and Jean Bevoir. The Indians had no 
 desire to become hurt in a battle, yet they were 
 anxious to obtain some of the many gifts which Be- 
 voir had promised them in case of a victory over the 
 English. 
 
 With great caution Henry looked out of the wig- 
 wam and surveyed the situation. The camp was 
 close to the river bank and was backed up by the 
 virgin forest, which, at this point, was rough and 
 uncertain. It would be an easy matter to hide in 
 the forest, but the question arose, what should he do 
 when he got there ? 
 
 "Well, anything is better than being a prisoner," 
 he mused. "I'll take what I can lay my hands on 
 and get out." 
 
 He looked about him and managed to secure an 
 old hunting knife and likewise a pretty fair bow and 
 
280 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 several arrows. It was growing dark, and at the 
 risk of being seen he stole to a place where the 
 Indians had stored some blankets and some pro- 
 visions. He supplied himself with what he wanted, 
 and then, like a ghost, glided into the mighty forest. 
 
 "Now for the trading post," he muttered to him- 
 self. "By hook or crook, I must get there, and pray 
 Heaven I get there before it is too late !" 
 
 He knew that in order to reach the post he would 
 have to keep close to the river. He imagined the 
 trading post was about three miles away, although 
 he was by no means sure. 
 
 Traveling through the forest in the dark proved 
 to be a harder task than Henry had anticipated. 
 He went plunging along until several falls knocked 
 the wind completely out of him and barked his shins 
 mightily. At last he had to give it up and turned 
 to the river, resolved to travel on the ice, even 
 though the danger might be greater. 
 
 Coming down to the open he gazed around, and 
 seeing nobody, stepped on the ice. It appeared to 
 be firm, and he started on a swift trot, straight for 
 the trading post. 
 
 Crack! Henry had not been on the ice over a 
 minute when this ominous sound greeted him. He 
 had come to where the surface was more than slushy. 
 The ice bent beneath him. 
 
FROM ENEMIES TO FRIENDS 28 1 
 
 "This won't do!" he cried, and tried to turn 
 toward the shore once more. But the movement 
 came too late; down went the ice and Henry with it, 
 and the next instant he was over his head in the 
 chilling water. 
 
 Had Henry not been so robust and such a good 
 swimmer he would have perished on the spot. As 
 it was, the coldness of the water almost paralyzed 
 him, and when he went down he could do little but 
 gasp and splutter and reach out blindly. Then, 
 when he came up, his head hit the under surface of 
 the ice, and down he went as before. 
 
 The sturdy youth now realized that he had a life 
 or death struggle before him. No one was at hand 
 to give him aid, and if he was to be saved he must 
 do it himself. As he came up once more he clutched 
 at the under surface of the ice and felt around until 
 he found something of an opening. Then, with 
 might and main, he pulled himself up, until his head 
 and shoulders were out of the water. It was high 
 time, for he could no longer hold his breath. 
 
 The ice was all around him, but so rotten that it 
 threatened at every instant to break away and let 
 him down again. He was less than ten yards from 
 the bank of the river, but try his best he could make 
 no headway toward safety. 
 
 As Henry was wondering how long he could stand 
 
252 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 the cold and keep from losing his grip something 
 along the shore attracted his attention. He gave a 
 closer look and saw three Indians stealing along. 
 That they were enemies he had not the slightest 
 doubt, yet he hailed their appearance with a certain 
 sense of joy. They could save him, even though 
 they might make him their prisoner once more. 
 
 "Help !" he called, as loudly as he could. "Help !" 
 
 The Indians were at first startled by the call, and 
 in a trice fled behind some trees and out of sight. 
 But then they saw the youth's head and noted his 
 plight and came forth and ran to the edge of the 
 river bank. 
 
 "Help me !" went on Henry. "Do not let me 
 drown !" 
 
 "We help," grunted one of the Indians, and threw 
 out a lasso he chanced to be carrying. It fell within 
 Henry's reach, and he quickly grasped it. Then the 
 three red men hauled him to a place of safety. 
 
 "My friend Henry!" cried one of the red men, 
 in amazement. 
 
 "White Buffalo !" gasped the youth. "Can it be 
 possible? How came you here?" 
 
 "White Buffalo is journeying to the trading post. 
 He heard that harm had befallen his old friends," 
 answered the old chief of the Delawares. "Is his 
 friend Henry alone?" 
 
FROM ENEMIES TO FRIENDS 283 
 
 "Yes. I was out with Sam Barringford, and we 
 were captured by some unfriendly Indians," re- 
 turned Henry, and related his story in detail, to 
 which White Buffalo listened with close attention. 
 Then the chief asked about Joseph Morris, Dave, 
 and also about Jean Bevoir and Moon Eye. 
 
 "Bevoir and Moon Eye are snakes, not fit to live," 
 said White Buffalo. "A runner brought me the 
 news of what was being done. If they have slain 
 my friend James Morris both of them shall die. 
 White Buffalo swears it by the Great Spirit." 
 
 "Have you only these two warriors with you?" 
 
 "No, close at hand White Buffalo has two score 
 men — the flower of his warriors. Our tribe is 
 united and in the future all will fight only for the 
 English. We shall aid in driving the French and 
 the bad Indians from the land." 
 
 "Good for you!" cried Henry. The news made 
 his heart give a bound. "If you intend to help 
 us, the quicker you get to the trading post the 
 better." 
 
 "It shall be as my brother Henry wills," answered 
 the chief. "But Henry cannot travel while he is 
 wet and cold. Here, let him take White Buffalo's 
 blanket," and the chief passed it over. 
 
 "Thank you, the blanket and walking will keep me 
 warm. Let us get your men together without de- 
 
284 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 lay and start for the post. For all I know the attack 
 may have already begun !" 
 
 They left the vicinity of the Ohio and plunged 
 straight into the forest. While hurrying along 
 White Buffalo explained that he had been out scout- 
 ing, to note how matters were going. In their 
 march westward they had encountered several wan- 
 dering Indians who had told them of some of the 
 doings of Jean Bevoir and Moon Eye. 
 
 "I cannot believe that my friend and brother, 
 James Morris, is dead," said the old chief sadly. 
 "It is hard upon my young friend Dave." 
 
 "That it is," answered Henry. "I am afraid Dave 
 won't care for the post any more, even if it is saved." 
 
 As soon as they came to the Indians' stopping- 
 place White Buffalo delivered a brief address to his 
 braves. They were perfectly willing to do what- 
 ever he wanted of them; and in a few minutes the 
 whole party set off for the trading post. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 FOR LIFE OR DEATH 
 
 "The gate is giving way!" cried one of the fron- 
 tiersmen, when the battering ram had struck it once 
 more with tremendous force. 
 
 "This way, everybody !" called out Joseph Morris. 
 "We must fight for it now !" 
 
 Half a dozen were already stationed at convenient 
 loopholes and were pouring in a constant fire on the 
 Frenchmen. Several went down, but the others kept 
 at the work. Jean Bevoir had furnished them with 
 all they wished of strong liquor, and many were 
 reckless to the last degree. 
 
 On the edge of the forest Moon Eye waited with 
 the majority of the savage warriors under him. He 
 saw the gate quiver and splinter, and then, as there 
 came another onslaught, ordered his braves to ad- 
 vance. On they came, yelling like demons, and 
 sending a flight of arrows over the stockade. 
 
 Sam Barringford was in his element, and from a 
 loophole nearest to the gate he continued to shoot 
 at the Frenchmen. But some of the attackers had 
 
 285 
 
286 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 stuck slabs of wood into their girdles in front, and 
 these slabs acted as shields. 
 
 "They are coming again !" cried Dave. He stood 
 with his eye to a loophole, his gun smoking from a 
 recent discharge. "They are bound to get in." 
 
 "Look at the Indians!'' shrieked one of the fron- 
 tiersmen. "They have been reinforced ! There 
 must be half a hundred of them !" 
 
 "If they come in, perhaps we had better retreat 
 to the main building," suggested Joseph Morris. 
 "We cannot stand up against more than twice our 
 own number." 
 
 The Indians who had been making the demon- 
 stration in the rear of the trading post, now came 
 around to the front. At the same time the French- 
 men prepared for a last attack on the gate. On they 
 came with a force that nothing could resist. Crash ! 
 came the battering ram and snap ! crash ! went the 
 gate, the oaken bars splitting and breaking and send- 
 ing a shower of splinters over those behind. Then 
 the gate went down in the snow and mud. 
 
 "'Tis down ! 'Tis down !" Frenchmen and In- 
 dians gave a cheer and a yell. Those who had been 
 handling the battering ram stepped to one side, and 
 on swept the warriors under Moon Eye, straight for 
 the opening that had been created in the stockade. 
 
 "Hold 'em back!" yelled Sam Barringford, step- 
 
FOR LIFE OR DEATH 287 
 
 ping to the center of the gateway. "Give it to 'em 
 hot! Don't let a skunk o' 'em git in!" And he 
 blazed away at one of the leading Indians. The 
 warrior pitched headlong and the man behind went 
 down on top of him. 
 
 Dave, his uncle, and many of the others, also fired, 
 and four of the red warriors were either killed or 
 mortally wounded. There was a brief pause, and 
 then Moon Eye urged his braves to go on. 
 
 "Yes! yes!" yelled Jean Bevoir. "At zem! At 
 zem ! Keel zem all ! A big, big reward shall be 
 yours if ve capture ze post !" 
 
 "Go to the front — do some fighting yourself!" 
 growled Benoit Vascal. He had received an ugly 
 wound in the forearm. 
 
 "I am not afraid," answered Jean Bevoir, reck- 
 lessly. He too had been drinking freely. And for- 
 ward he rushed, and some of his countrymen with 
 him, following up the Indians to the gateway of the 
 stockade. 
 
 The battle was now on in all its fury. Two of the 
 frontiersmen had been shot down and Sam Barring- 
 ford had been struck in the thigh. Dave was on the 
 point of using the pistol he carried when a warrior 
 hit him in the side with an arrow. 
 
 "Dave !" cried Joseph Morris, in alarm, but could 
 say no more, for he found himself confronted also, 
 
288 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 and had to fight his best to save his life. He was 
 struck by a bullet in the shoulder, but the wound was 
 of small consequence. 
 
 The noise was now terrific, the Indians yelling 
 like demons and the guns and pistols being dis- 
 charged freely. Some of the contestants were at it 
 hand-to-hand, with hunting knives, tomahawks, and 
 clubs. Slowly but surely the English were driven 
 back from the gateway, and Indians and French 
 began to crowd into the trading-post enclosure. 
 
 "We can't keep this up ! They are too many for 
 us !" gasped one of the frontiersmen. The blood 
 was pouring from a cut in his cheek. "It's three or 
 four to one!" 
 
 "It's for life or death!" came from another. 
 "Don't give in! The Indians will show no mercy! 
 We must fight to a finish !" 
 
 All realized the truth of the speaker's remarks. 
 The Indians would surely kill them all or else make 
 them prisoners first and torture them to death after- 
 wards. It would be better to die fighting than to 
 allow themselves to be captured. 
 
 In the midst of the noise and excitement a yell 
 was heard from the forest, and then followed several 
 scattering shots. No one paid attention to these 
 for the minute, but soon came a yell that caused the 
 Indians under Moon Eye to listen in consternation. 
 
FOR LIFE OR DEATH 289 
 
 It was the war-cry of the Delawares, and it told that 
 they were about to enter the fray. 
 
 "What's that?" came from Joseph Morris. 
 
 "I know what it is !" yelled Dave. His heart gave 
 a bound. "That is White Buffalo's war-whoop !" 
 
 "White Buffalo is comin' !" came from Sam Bar- 
 ringford. He gave an answering cry at the top of 
 his lungs. "I only hope he has a good followin' ! 
 We need 'em !" 
 
 The band under White Buffalo was coming for- 
 ward on a run, firing rapidly. With the aged chief 
 was Henry, who had cast aside the blanket, for- 
 getting in his excitement that he was soaked from 
 his involuntary bath in the river. 
 
 "Give it to 'em !" shouted Henry, firing a gun that 
 had been given to him. "Shoot 'em down ! They 
 deserve it ! And don't let any of the Frenchmen get 
 away !" 
 
 The Delawares came up directly behind Moon 
 Eye's band, and their first volley of shots and arrows 
 laid four of the enemy low. Then they fired once 
 more and closed in with hunting knives and hatchets, 
 doing fearful execution. In the midst of the 
 slaughter was White Buffalo, his teeth set, his eyes 
 flashing, and his whole demeanor the personification 
 of courage and daring. Of all the whites he had 
 ever known, the Morrises were his dearest friends, 
 
29O TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 and he was more than ready to lay down his life for 
 them. 
 
 The coming of White Buffalo with his band gave 
 fresh courage to Joseph Morris and those under him, 
 and they renewed with vigor the fight they were 
 making in the trading-post yard. In the meantime 
 the Indians under Moon Eye and the Frenchmen 
 scarcely knew what to do. 
 
 "The Delawares have come to give us battle !" 
 cried one of Moon Eye's under chiefs. 
 
 "They are strong and fresh !" added another, who 
 was sorely wounded in the leg. 
 
 "We are hemmed in!" came from one of the 
 Frenchmen. "Reinforcements for the post have 
 arrived !" 
 
 Loud yells and more shots drowned out the words 
 spoken after that. The din became louder than ever 
 and the smoke rolled upward from every direction. 
 Flenry was in a fierce hand-to-hand fight with one 
 of the Indians when Benoit Vascal limped past. 
 
 "Ha! It ees you!" shrieked the Frenchman, and 
 made a lunge at Henry with his hunting knife. But 
 at that moment White Buffalo threw his tomahawk 
 at Vascal. The rascal received a glancing blow 
 that stretched him senseless. Then over his body 
 rushed some Indians, and he was, for the time 
 being, forgotten. 
 
FOR LIFE OR DEATH 29 1 
 
 The coming of the Delawares was disconcerting 
 to Jean Bevoir. It came at a moment when he had 
 felt certain victory would soon rest with himself and 
 Moon Eye. He and his followers were practically 
 caught, some inside of the gateway and some outside, 
 and knew not how to turn. A galling fire was 
 poured into them by the newcomers, and fully a 
 dozen Indians and Frenchmen went down never to 
 rise again. Bevoir was hit in the shoulder and 
 later received a knife stab in the side. 
 
 For fully ten minutes the battle continued, but 
 then, as he saw his warriors being slaughtered, Moon 
 Eye lost heart, and sounded the retreat. The 
 Indians under him got out of the gateway as best 
 they could and scattered to the right and left, some 
 running along the river and others taking to the 
 shelter of the forest. 
 
 "After them !" said White Buffalo, to his braves, 
 in his native tongue. "Let not one of them escape. 
 They are vile creatures, not fit to live, enemies of us 
 all!" And away went his braves after the others, 
 following Moon Eye's men for over a mile and kill- 
 ing fully half of them. Moon Eye himself was 
 struck by a bullet in the back and fell, and a few 
 minutes later White Buffalo finished the rascal with 
 his tomahawk. 
 
 As soon as they saw that their Indian allies were 
 
292 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 retreating, the Frenchmen also tried to retire. All 
 told they now numbered five, including Jean Bevoir. 
 They sneaked along the stockade until they came 
 to a point nearest to the mighty forest and then 
 made a break for the trees. Those at the post 
 fired several shots after them, but these did no 
 harm. 
 
 "Where is Jean Bevoir?" asked Joseph Morris, as 
 the battle came to an end. 
 
 "He got away," answered Barringford, who was 
 panting from his exertions. "Drat the luck ! He'll 
 come back, I reckon, to make more trouble for us 
 some other time." 
 
 "Dave, you are wounded," said his uncle. 
 
 "It doesn't matter," answered the youth, bravely. 
 "Oh, how glad I am that White Buffalo came up! 
 We should have lost had it not been for him and his 
 warriors." 
 
 "He has gone after what's left of the other red- 
 skins," said one of the frontiersmen. "I hope he 
 kills them all !" 
 
 Joseph Morris and Dave were overjoyed to see 
 Henry back again and gave the youth a warm greet- 
 ing. Torches were lit, and a list made of the dead 
 and wounded, and the latter were made as comfort- 
 able as possible. 
 
 "I vote to go after Jean Bevoir," said Dave. "I 
 
FOR LIFE OR DEATH 293 
 
 must catch that man and make him tell me all he 
 knows about father.'' 
 
 "An' I am with ye, lad," said Barringford. "It 
 ain't right to let thet hound git away. He has caused 
 all o' us trouble enough." 
 
 "We cannot go away and leave the post alone," 
 said Joseph Morris. "Bevoir might come back in 
 the meantime and take possession." 
 
 "We can fool him," said Dave. "Let us raise the 
 gate and fasten it in some manner and then leave a 
 few men on guard. He won't know but what all of 
 us are inside." 
 
 This was considered a good plan, and leaving the 
 dead where they had fallen, those able to work 
 quickly set the broken gate into place and propped 
 it fast with some heavy logs. Then seven of the 
 party, including the planter, Barringford, Dave, and 
 Henry, left the post and took to the forest in 
 the direction Jean Bevoir and his followers had 
 gone. 
 
 "Be careful," warned Sam Barringford. "We 
 don't want to run into a trap. Remember, Jean Be- 
 voir is foxy, an' always was." 
 
 The night was still fairly clear, and they followed 
 the trail through the wet snow with ease. Evi- 
 dently the Frenchman had not imagined that he 
 would be pursued, and so had not taken any pre- 
 
294 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 cautions to hide his tracks. The trail led straight 
 forward for nearly a mile, then curved in the direc- 
 tion of the river. 
 
 "I believe he is bound for that Indian village I 
 was at," said Henry, who had, during the brief rest 
 at the post, donned some dry clothing. "Perhaps he 
 hopes to get aid there. Well, he will be disap- 
 pointed, I think, although I am not sure." 
 
 As they drew closer to the village they advanced 
 with increased caution, and each member of the party 
 looked to make sure that his weapons were in proper 
 order. All were tired out, and each was more or 
 less wounded, but none thought of giving up the 
 task they had undertaken. 
 
 Dave was particularly eager to meet Bevoir and, 
 if possible, make the rascally French trader a 
 prisoner. He felt that Bevoir was the only one to 
 give him all the particulars of his father's death and 
 burial, and he felt that if the Frenchman got away 
 now he might remain away forever. 
 
 At last they saw a distant gleam of light through 
 the forest and knew that the Indian camp was not far 
 off. They moved ahead slower than ever. 
 
 "I see somebody moving around !" cried Dave, in 
 a low voice. "I think it is an Indian." 
 
 "I see two Indians," said Sam Barringford. "But 
 they are old men and unarmed." 
 
FOR LIFE OR DEATH 295 
 
 They drew closer still, until only a fringe of 
 bushes hid the dark camp from view. The campfire 
 had burned low, and they could see that the most 
 of the wigwams had been taken down. Evidently 
 what was left of the tribe were getting ready to 
 leave that vicinity. 
 
 Presently they heard sounds from the opposite 
 side of the camp, and two Indians and three French- 
 men appeared, leading a number of horses. 
 
 "There is Jean Bevoir now," whispered Henry. 
 
 "Yes, and those horses are our own," answered 
 his father. 
 
 The horses were stopped at the doorway of one of 
 the wigwams and an Indian went in, to appear a 
 moment later leading the sick man whom Henry had 
 seen but a few hours before. 
 
 "Where are you going to take me?" asked the 
 man, feebly. 
 
 "You vill know zat in ze morning," answered Jean 
 Bevoir. "You shall ride a horse." 
 
 Then Bevoir entered another wigwam. Soon 
 he came forth, dragging another man by the 
 arm. 
 
 "Don't!" gasped the man, feebly. "Don't! I— 
 I cannot stand it ! Have a little mercy, Bevoir, I — I 
 beg of you !" And the man fell in a heap. 
 
 "Git up !" roared Jean Bevoir, savagely. "You 
 
296 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 shall come with me. Dead or alive, I shall take you 
 avay !" 
 
 "See! see!" shrieked Dave, forgetting himself 
 completely. "See, it is my father! Jean Bevoir, 
 let him alone, or I'll shoot you on the spot !" 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 DAYS OF PEACE CONCLUSION 
 
 It was indeed James Morris who lay on the 
 ground at Jean Bevoir's feet. 
 
 The trader had not been killed, only seriously 
 wounded, and for days had lain between life and 
 death, in the care of an old Indian medicine man. 
 Many a time the French trader had thought to slay 
 him, but had hesitated, thinking he might some day 
 make use of his prisoner. 
 
 James Morris was still so weak that he could do 
 nothing for himself, yet Jean Bevoir wanted him to 
 mount a horse and ride away, to a cave up the river, 
 where, in years gone by, the French trader and his 
 trappers had had a regular rendezvous. 
 
 It made Dave's blood boil to see his father so 
 abused, and forgetful of everything else, he ran for- 
 ward, leveling his rifle at Bevoir's head as he did so. 
 
 "Dave ! My son Dave !" cried James Morris, 
 and there was a ring of relief and joy in his tones. 
 
 "Father!" was all the son answered. He still 
 297 
 
298 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 kept his eyes on the French trader, who shrank back- 
 in consternation. 
 
 "Come on, all of you !" cried Joseph Morris, who 
 now saw that further secrecy would be useless. 
 "Surrender, you villains, or we'll shoot you down 
 like dogs !" 
 
 "Thet's the talk!" came from Barringford, and 
 as he saw one of the Indians raise a gun he shot the 
 warrior through the heart. 
 
 The next instant the entire camp was in alarm. 
 Thinking a large body of English had arrived, the 
 few Indians present took to their heels and disap- 
 peared into the forest as if by magic. The French- 
 men tried to follow, fighting as they did so. Jean 
 Bevoir aimed a pistol at Dave and fired, the bullet 
 striking the youth in the side. As he staggered and 
 fell Henry fired at the French trader, and so did two 
 others, and Bevoir threw up his arms and pitched 
 headlong into the smoldering campfire, scattering 
 the embers in all directions. 
 
 Inside of five minutes the battle was at an end and 
 the English were in complete possession of the camp 
 and had also gained possession of their horses and a 
 large portion of their stores. What was left of the 
 French and Indians disappeared, and that was the 
 last seen of them. 
 
 Dave's wound was but slight, and his first 
 
Bevoir pitched headlong- into the smoldering- campfire. 
 Page 298. 
 
DAYS OF PEACE — CONCLUSION 299 
 
 thoughts were of his father. The two embraced 
 over and over again, the tears of joy standing in the 
 eyes of each. Joseph Morris, Henry, and Barring- 
 ford were likewise more than happy to learn that the 
 trader was really alive. 
 
 "I am the only one living to tell the tale," said 
 James Morris. "The others were killed or mortally 
 wounded." 
 
 "Not all," answered Dave. "Peaceful Jones es- 
 caped and told us the news, and that is what brought 
 us here so quickly." 
 
 "You have had a great fight. I could hear some 
 of the shooting," continued the trader. 
 
 "Yes, and we might have had the worst of it, 
 only White Buffalo came to our aid." 
 
 "And where is he now?" 
 
 "Gone in pursuit of Moon Eye and his followers." 
 
 After that James Morris told his story in detail, 
 to which Dave and the others listened with much 
 interest. 
 
 "At first I was kept at the post," said he. "Jean 
 Bevoir pretended to be kind and considerate, but I 
 soon found out his object. He had drawn up some 
 documents stating that I surrendered to him all my 
 rights and interests in the trading post and he 
 wanted me to sign them. When I refused he got 
 angry and wanted to kill me. But some of the men 
 
300 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 interfered and then I was brought to this place. 
 Then, of a sudden, I was treated better again. 
 From the Indians I learned that Bevoir had an idea 
 that if he got cornered later on he would use me in 
 some way for his benefit — as a hostage, or something 
 like that." 
 
 "Just what he wanted to do with me, when I was a 
 prisoner,'' said Henry. "It is queer that I didn't see 
 you when I was here," he added. 
 
 "They must have kept us apart purposely, Henry." 
 James Morris drew a long breath. "How good it 
 feel to be together once more. I declare, it seems 
 to brace me up wonderfully !" And his face showed 
 his relief. 
 
 Somebody had dragged Jean Bevoir's body from 
 the fire just after the man fell. The trader was not 
 yet dead, and lay groaning and writhing in a fearful 
 manner. Nothing could be done for him, and he 
 died at sunrise. It was the last of a misspent life, 
 full of golden opportunities which the rascal had 
 trampled under foot. His body was laid in a hollow 
 and some flat stones placed over it, to keep off the 
 wild animals. His pockets were searched and 
 the fraudulent documents confiscated by Joseph 
 Morris. 
 
 "We must get back to the post as soon as we can," 
 said Barringford. after the excitement was over. 
 
DAYS OF PEACE— CONCLUSION 301 
 
 "Remember, we don't know how matters are a-goin' 
 there." 
 
 "I have heard no shots," answered Henry. "And 
 that is a good sign." 
 
 "I do not see how anything can be wrong there," 
 said Dave. "We have wound up the Bevoir crowd 
 and you can trust White Buffalo to take care of 
 Moon Eye's tribe." 
 
 Nevertheless, the start for the trading post was 
 made as soon as matters could be gotten into shape 
 for the journey. The two sick men were carried on 
 stretchers made of blankets tied to long poles, and 
 all took turns at the task. Dave did not mind the 
 load at all, and in the joy at finding his parent forgot 
 all about his own injuries, which, fortunately, proved 
 slight. 
 
 The strange man who was sick wanted to know 
 what it all meant, and smiled when told. Then he 
 heaved a sudden sigh. 
 
 "I, too, have had many troubles," he said. 
 "Many, many troubles. I wish that I could get 
 some help." 
 
 "We will aid you all we can," said Henry, kindly. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know. But my head — it is not clear. 
 My brain whirls when I try to think. The past is 
 such a blank !" 
 
 "You were hit on the head, that's the trouble," 
 
302 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 went on the youth. "But I think you will get over 
 it soon." 
 
 "Perhaps — some days I know I feel better. But 
 then my head whirls again and I am in the dark! 
 Oh, it is awful !" And the sick man sighed as 
 before. 
 
 "Can't you remember where you came from at 
 all?" 
 
 "I remember the sea — the great boundless ocean, 
 and a great storm. I was alone then — all alone. 
 And I remember before that, — a beautiful garden 
 and kind friends and relatives, and the babies, the 
 beautiful babies! And then I remember — I remem- 
 ber " The man paused. "It is cloudy again — 
 
 dark — I can remember nothing, nothing!" And he 
 lay back and closed his eyes. 
 
 "Maybe as how he'll never be jest right ag'in," 
 whispered Sam Barringford. "It's terribul, no two 
 ways on't! I wish I could do somethin' fer 
 him." 
 
 "It will take time," said Joseph Morris. "It is 
 useless to worry him now, it will only make matters 
 worse." And so they let the strange man rest in 
 peace. They had previously searched his pockets, 
 but had found nothing by which he could be identi- 
 fied. 
 
 The journey to the trading post accomplished, 
 
DAYS OF PEACE— CONCLUSION 303 
 
 they found matters quiet there. No more of the 
 enemy had appeared, and nothing had been seen of 
 White Buffalo and his followers. The old Delaware 
 chief came in about noon, bringing the news that 
 Moon Eye's tribe had been completely shattered. 
 
 "They will never trouble my white friends again," 
 said White Buffalo. "Those who are left alive 
 have learned a lesson which they will never 
 forget." 
 
 The old Indian chief was more than glad to learn 
 that James Morris was living, and shook hands 
 warmly. 
 
 "You have done me and mine a great service, 
 White Buffalo," said the trader, gratefully. "We 
 shall not forget it." 
 
 "White Buffalo knows his real friends," answered 
 the aged chief, calmly. "He is glad to serve them." 
 Then he and his warriors went off to get something 
 to eat, for they had had nothing since the day be- 
 fore. They were treated to the best the post af- 
 forded. 
 
 Among those found living after the battle at the 
 post was Benoit Vascal. He had been sorely 
 wounded and trampled upon in the melee, and it 
 was evident he could not long survive his hurts. He 
 was placed on a rude couch and there he remained, 
 since he could swallow neither food nor water. He 
 
304 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 groaned continually and bitterly bewailed the fate 
 that had brought him to the place. 
 
 When the strange sick man was brought in he was 
 placed on a cot not far from where Benoit Vascal 
 was resting. For some time the two did not notice 
 each other. Then, of a sudden, the Frenchman 
 glanced at the other and uttered a shriek of amaze- 
 ment and terror. 
 
 "Tis he ! 'Tis he ! 'Tis the judgment !" he 
 screamed in French. "Take him away! I cannot 
 bear to face him!" 
 
 At the sound of Vascal's voice the strange sick 
 man turned over and gave him a wandering look. 
 Then he also started up and gave a cry. 
 
 "You! you!" he screamed. "You! I know you, 
 Benoit Vascal ! What have you done with my chil- 
 dren!" He staggered from his couch, fell forward, 
 and caught the Frenchman by the arm. "Tell me! 
 My children, what of them?" 
 
 "What's the matter here?" demanded Sam Bar- 
 ringford, who chanced to be close by. 
 
 "This man !" panted the strange sick man. "He — 
 he stole my children ! He is the rascal I have been 
 hunting for — he and another, a Paul Camont. They 
 took my twin boys ! Ah, I remember it all now ! 
 Where are my children ? Don't dare to say you 
 killed them !" 
 
DAYS OF PEACE — CONCLUSION 305 
 
 "Your children — twins/' gasped the old frontiers- 
 man. "Can it be possible thet you air Mr. Maurice 
 Hamilton ?" 
 
 "Yes ! yes ! that is my name ! How strange I could 
 not think of it before. Maurice Hamilton, yes, of 
 London." 
 
 "Well, by the eternal!" came faintly from Bar- 
 ringford. He looked at the sick man sharply. "It 
 must be so — ye look alike, same eyes, same nose, an' 
 all. This staggers me !" 
 
 "Let me go!" came faintly from Benoit Vascal. 
 "He has ze children — I haf zem not, no! Let me 
 go!" for the other man now held him by the throat. 
 
 The cries and loud talking had attracted a crowd, 
 and all pushed forward to learn the cause of the dis- 
 turbance. 
 
 "It's the greatest thing ye ever heard tell on," said 
 Sam Barringford. "This man is Maurice Hamil- 
 ton, and the father o' the twins." 
 
 "Can it be possible !" exclaimed Dave. 
 
 "But where — where are my children?" asked 
 Maurice Hamilton. 
 
 "They are safe — leas'wise they war, the last I 
 heard o' 'em," answered Barringford. "But this 
 gits me! I never dreamed o' sech a thing." 
 
 "Nor did I," added Joseph Morris. 
 
 After that there remained nothing to do but to tell 
 
306 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Maurice Hamilton all about his little ones, how Bar- 
 ringford had found them, and how they had been 
 cared for ever since by the Morrises. The sick man 
 could not take it all in, but he understood enough 
 and the tears of joy streamed down his wan 
 face. 
 
 "How I long to see them — my darling boys !" he 
 murmured. 
 
 "And you shall see them," said Joseph Morris. 
 "But first you must get well." 
 
 "And what of — of that rascal who robbed 
 me?" 
 
 "He is dying — let him rest," was the planter's soft 
 answer. And then, for the time being, Maurice 
 Hamilton was silent. From that hour on he mended 
 rapidly, both mentally and physically, until, two 
 months later, he was as well as ever. Benoit Vascal 
 died two days later, and was buried in a common 
 grave, along with the other Frenchmen who had 
 fallen in the battle for the possession of the trading 
 post. 
 
 Maurice Hamilton's story was a long one, and I 
 have no space to relate it here. He was a fairly 
 well-to-do man who, after the death of his beautiful 
 wife and his father and mother, had come to 
 America to seek his fortune. Upon arriving here 
 his twins had been stolen from him by Benoit Vascal, 
 
DAYS OF PEACE — CONCLUSION 307 
 
 aided by Paul Camont. He had in vain tried to 
 follow the rascals up, although he had received 
 several letters offering to compromise the matter for 
 a certain amount. He said that his wife, when a 
 girl, had received an offer of marriage from Vascal 
 and had refused him, and this had made the French- 
 man so bitter. The two gold lockets the twins 
 possessed contained the portraits of Mr. Hamilton's 
 father and mother. 
 
 "This clears up that mystery," said Dave to 
 Henry. "I must say I am glad of it — on Mr. Hamil- 
 ton's account." 
 
 "Yes, and also on account of the twins," answered 
 his cousin. "But Sam will hate to have them go, 
 and mother and Nell will hate it, too." 
 
 "Well, such things can't be helped." 
 
 Now that the fighting was over, all hands found a 
 great many things to do in and around the trading 
 post. A new gate was put into place, stronger even 
 than the other, and the stockade generally was also 
 strengthened. The stable was enlarged, so that the 
 numerous horses might have proper quarters, and 
 another room was built to the main building. In 
 the meantime some of the trappers and Indians went 
 out on the hunt and brought in plenty of meat and 
 not a few skins of value. 
 
 With the coming of spring came a fresh alarm, 
 
308 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 and it was not deemed wise to send an expedition 
 eastward. Pontiac was trying his best to combine 
 the Indians in another conspiracy. But his plans 
 failed, and in the end the noted Indian chief fell, 
 brained by a tomahawk in the hands of another 
 Indian. So perished one of the most gifted and at 
 the same time one of the most warlike Indian chiefs 
 this country ever saw. 
 
 At last the way seemed clear for a start for Will's 
 Creek, and an expedition set out, by way of Fort 
 Pitt. Among those to go along were Joseph Morris, 
 Sam Barringford, Mr. Hamilton, and Henry. Mr. 
 Hamilton was feeling in the best of health once more, 
 and he and the old frontiersman had become warm 
 friends. The gentleman wanted to reward Barring- 
 ford for what he had done, but the latter would not 
 listen to it. 
 
 "Let me see them twins now an' then," said the 
 old frontiersman. "Thet will be reward enough fer 
 me." And so it was arranged. 
 
 It was a great day when the party reached the 
 Morris homestead. Maurice Hamilton hugged his 
 children tightly to his breast and kissed them re- 
 peatedly, and Mrs. Morris was so affected that she 
 wept. 
 
 "They are good boys," she said. "I'll hate 
 awfully to have them go away." 
 
DAYS OF PEACE — CONCLUSION 309 
 
 "Then supposing I leave them here for the pres- 
 ent?" answered Maurice Hamilton. "I have no 
 home of my own." 
 
 "Yes ! yes ! Do leave them, please !" cried Nell ; 
 and so it was arranged, much to the satisfaction of 
 all concerned. 
 
 Here let me add a few words and then bring to a 
 close this story 6f "Trail and Trading Post," and 
 likewise this "Colonial Series." 
 
 During the ensuing summer matters fared very 
 well both at the Morris homestead and at the trading 
 post. The twins grew up healthy and strong, and 
 looked upon Sam Barringford as their uncle, which 
 pleased the old frontiersman mightily. Mr. Hamil- 
 ton came and went, for he had property on the St. 
 Lawrence and near Philadelphia to look after. He 
 was glad to have his children in such excellent care. 
 
 "I hope them little chaps never see sech fightin 
 as we've seen," said Barringford to Henry one day, 
 as he was dancing both on his knees. 
 
 "I don't think they will," answered Henry. But 
 he was mistaken. The twins did see some spirited 
 fighting — during the Revolutionary War — the par- 
 ticulars of which I may relate some other time. 
 They were such sturdy, manly chaps that nobody 
 could help but like them. 
 
3IO TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 During the summer the trading post was attacked 
 just once, by a band of Indians, under an old chief 
 who in years gone by had been one of the Morrises' 
 worst foes. The warriors were defeated without a 
 loss among the whites, while the Indians lost several 
 men, including the chief. After that the red men 
 remained away from that territory for many years 
 to come. 
 
 As soon as peace was firmly established, other 
 traders flocked to the Ohio, followed by regular set- 
 tlers. Many of the posts were valuable, but none 
 more so than that belonging to the Morrises. More 
 than this, James Morris and Dave dealt fairly by all 
 who wished to do business with them, be they whites 
 or Indians, and as a consequence they soon 
 established a reputation that was known far 
 and wide. The very best skins and furs were 
 offered to them, and they began to make money 
 rapidly. 
 
 "How things have changed since first we came out 
 here," said Dave one day. "And what a number of 
 events have happened since then !" 
 
 "Let us be thankful that all has ended well," re- 
 plied his father. "Many have suffered deeply, while 
 we have escaped." 
 
 "I am thankful," said Dave, reverently. "Very 
 thankful indeed!" 
 
DAYS OF PEACE — CONCLUSION 3 I I 
 
 White Buffalo, who stood near, nodded his head 
 slowly. 
 
 "The Great Spirit has watched over us all," said 
 he. "Blessed be the Great Spirit, both of the white 
 man and of the Indians." 
 
 THE END 
 
THE LAKEPORT SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 VOLUME ONE 
 
 THE GUN CLUB BOYS OF LAKEPORT 
 
 Or The Island Camp 
 
 321 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 A BRIGHT, breezy, outdoor story, telling how several lads organized 
 a gun club and went camping in the winter time. They had with 
 them a trusty old hunter who revealed to them many of the secrets of 
 Nature as found in the woods. A volume any boy who loves a gun 
 will appreciate. 
 
 This story of camping- and hunting will appeal to every American boy. — 
 Register, JVezv Haven, Conn. 
 
 VOLUME^ TWO 
 
 THE BASEBALL BOYS OF LAKEPORT 
 
 Or The Winning Run 
 
 315 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 WITH the coming of summer the boys turned their attention to 
 baseball and organized a club, and played many thrilling games. 
 The rivalry was of the keenest, and the particulars are given of a plot 
 to injure the Lakeport nine and make them lose the _nost important 
 game of all. 
 
 Will appeal to every healthy American boy. — American, Baltimore, Md. 
 
 VOLUME THREE 
 
 THE BOAT CLUB BOYS OF LAKEPORT 
 
 Or The Water Champions 
 
 300 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 ' I 'HIS time the scene is shifted to the lake. The boys ail know how 
 * to row and sail a boat, and they organize a club and have fun 
 galore. During a squall on the lake something of great value is lost 
 overboard. The abduction of a little girl adds to the interest of the 
 volume. Every lad who loves the water will read this volume with 
 pleasure. 
 
 This author knows how to please red-blooded lads. — Times-Union, Albany, 
 
 n.t. 
 
Mr. Stratemeyer's popularity will be increased by " Dave 
 Porter." — Times, Hartford, Conn. 
 
 DAVE PORTER SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 VOLUME ONE 
 
 DA VE PORTER A T OAK HALL 
 
 Or the Schooldays of an American *Boy 
 
 312 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 'NTEVER was there a brighter, more manly, thoroughly up-to-date boy 
 than Dave Porter, and all boys who read about him, and girls too, 
 for the matter of that, will be sure to love him from the start. How, as 
 a green country boy, he went to Oak Hall, how he was hazed, and how 
 he had to fight his way through is told with a naturalness that is true 
 to life. 
 The story is told with great fidelity to real life. — Eagle, Brooklyn, JV. Y. 
 
 VOLUME TWO 
 
 DAVE PORTER IN THE SOUTH SEAS 
 
 Or The Strange Cruise of the Stormy Petrel 
 
 286 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 l~\AVE is the same bright, wide-awake youth he was at school, and his 
 
 adventures on shipboard and among the unexplored islands of the 
 
 South Seas will render him dearer to the hearts of the boys than ever. Dave 
 
 is trying to solve the mystery of his parentage, and several of his school 
 
 chums are with him during his wanderings, some sharing his perils. A 
 
 great tidal wave sends the ship into a strange harbor and there follows a 
 
 mutiny which places a number on board in great peril. 
 
 Mr. Stratemeyer's heroes are full of fun, and the activity that goes with youth, 
 strength and high spirits. They are all saie — they work hard and play fairly. 
 — Star, Washington , D. C. 
 
 Mr. Stratemeyer has seldom introduced a more popular hero than Dave Porter. 
 He is a typical boy, manly, brave, always ready for a good time if it can be obtained 
 in an honorable way. — Wisconsin, AIilvjaukee % Wis. 
 
DAVE PORTER SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEHEYER 
 
 VOLUME THREE 
 
 DAVE PORTER'S RETURN TO SCHOOL 
 Or Winning the Medal of Honor 
 
 304 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 IN this volume the scene is shifted back to Oak Hall, and once again 
 Dave becomes the centre of as interesting a group of schoolboys as it is 
 psssible to imagine. There is a strong plot, with plenty of fun, and not 
 a few rivalries on the athletic field, and the whole volume has a swing 
 and a dash that are irresistible. 
 
 A good wholesome story, full of fun and go. — Christian Work, JV. Y. 
 Each story that comes from Edward Stratemeyer's pen is eagerly read. — Boston 
 Herald. 
 
 VOLUME FOUR 
 
 DAVE PORTER IN THE FAR NORTH 
 
 Or The Pluck of an American Schoolboy 
 
 285 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 TN this book Dave is still at his well-liked boarding-school, Oak Hall, 
 *■ with his lively but manly comrades, who rejoice with him that he not 
 only has discovered his parentage, but has a father and sister living, though 
 unaware of his existence. Dave cannot rest until he finds those of his 
 own family, and having secured leave of absence from school and accom- 
 panied by his chum, the son of a United States Senator, he goes to 
 England only to find that his father has left on an expedition to the upper 
 part of Norway. The boys follow in a most exciting pursuit which is 
 replete with adventure. 
 
 The success of the "Dave Porter Series" is already surpassing Mr. Stratemeyer's 
 previous triumphs. — American, Nashville, Tenn. 
 
 Dave Porter is a typical American schoolboy, a scholar, an athlete and a good 
 fellow.— Herald, Rochester, N. Y. 
 
SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 VOLUME ONE 
 
 ON TO PEKIN 
 
 Or Old Glory in China 
 
 Cloth 330 pages Illustrated by A. B. Shute $1.25 
 
 THE hero, Gilbert Pennington, goes from the Philippines with the 
 Ninth Regiment to take part in the rescue of the beleaguered Brit- 
 ish Embassy at Pekin by the international forces. Mr. Stratemeyer has 
 risen to the occasion by giving, in addition to one of his very best stories, 
 a store of information concerning China and the Chinese, conveyed in a 
 natural and entertaining manner. 
 
 The demands of boy readers are peculiar, and the author who can sat- 
 isfy them, not once or twice, but aniformly, must possess rare ability in 
 an extremely difficult field. Such an author is Edward Stratemeyer. — » 
 Sunday News, Newark, N. J. 
 
 VOLUME TWO 
 
 UNDER THE MIKADO S FLAG 
 
 Or Young Soldiers of Fortune 
 
 370 pages Cloth Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 ' T "[NDER the Mikado's Flag" relates the adventures of two young 
 V_^ Americans in Korea and Manchuria during the outbreak of the 
 great war between Russia and Japan, one of the leading characters being 
 Gilbert Pennington, the hero of "On to Pekin," and the other, Ben 
 Russell, who with his brothers, Larry and Walter, is so well known to the 
 thousands of readers of the famous "Old Glory Series." It closes with 
 the great Battle of Liao-Yang, and is as valuable for the information 
 conveyed as it is interesting as a story. 
 
 Mr. Stratemeyer is undoubtedly improving very greatly on the average 
 book for boys. — Star, St. Louis, Mo. 
 
 He knows how to attract and hold boy readers. — Evening Standard, 
 New Bedford) Mass. 
 
SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 VOLUME THREE 
 
 AT THE FALL OF TORT ARTHUR 
 
 Or A Young American in the Japanese Navy 
 
 300 pages Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 'T^HIS story relates, primarily, the adventures of Larry Russell, 
 who is on board his old ship, the Columbia, which is carry- 
 ing a cargo for the Japanese government. The young sailor joins 
 the Japanese navy, and under Admiral Togo assists at the bombard- 
 ment of Port Arthur. Life in the Japanese navy is described in 
 detail, and also life in Port Arthur during the siege and bombard- 
 ment, which has few parallels in history. 
 
 "At the Fall of Port Arthur" is very well told. — Chronicle, San Francisco. 
 A rattling good story for boys. — Republican, Denver, CoU 
 
 VOLUME FOUR 
 
 UNDER TOGO FOR JAPAN 
 
 Or Three Young Americans on Land and Sea 
 
 310 pages Illustrated by A. B. Shute 12mo Cloth $1.25 
 
 ' I "HE "Soldiers of Fortune Series" is a continuation of the famous 
 " Old Glory Series," and enjoys equal popularity. The prin- 
 cipal characters are Ben and Larry Russell, Gilbert Pennington, 
 and the fine old gunner, Luke Striker, all of whom are well known 
 to thousands of readers. The climax of the book naturally deals 
 with the Battle of the Sea of Japan and Admiral Togo's wonderful 
 victory, in which Larry and Luke Striker bear an honorable part. 
 The fortunes of Ben and Gilbert Pennington on land also furnish 
 much that is of interest. 
 
 The youth who finds a good story of war adventure on the sea to his liking wiii 
 gain his heart's desire in " Under To£o for Japan." — Philadelphia Press. 
 
 Young readers will find the volume entertaining from first to last. — Nevjs, Said- 
 more, Md. 
 
 Will undoubtedly prove a favorite with the boys. — Advertiser, Newark, N.J, 
 
 No more popular book for boys could be imagined just at tJiis Uukj,— 
 Christian Endeavor World. 
 
PAN-AMERICAN SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 VOLUME ONE 
 
 LOST ON THE ORINOCO 
 
 Or American Boys in Venezuela 
 
 12mo Cloth Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 THIS volume tells of five American youths, who, with their tutor, sail 
 from New York to La Guayra, touching at Curacao on the way. 
 They visit Caracas, go westward to the Gulf of Maracaibo and lake of 
 the same name, and at last find themselves in the region of the mighty 
 Orinoco, and of course they have some exciting experiences, one of which 
 gives name to the book. 
 
 Its pictures of South American life and scenery are novel and instructive.— 
 The Literary World, Boston. 
 
 The scenes described are of the sort to charm the hearts of adventurous boys.— 
 The Outlook, N. T. 
 
 VOLUME TWO 
 
 THE YOUNG VOLCANO EXPLORERS 
 
 Or American Boys in the West Indies 
 
 12mo Cloth Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 THE boys, with their tutor, sail from Vesezuela to the West Indies, 
 stopping at Jamaica, Cuba, Hayti, and Porto Rico. They have 
 numerous adventures on the way, and then set out for St. Pierre, Mar- 
 tinique, where they encounter the effects of the eruption of Mt. Pelee, 
 and two of the boys are left on a raft to shift for themselves Life in the 
 West Indies is well portrayed. 
 
 VOLUME THREE 
 
 YOUNG EXPLORERS OF THE ISTHMUS 
 Or American Boys in Central America 
 
 306 pages Cloth Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 DELATES adventures in a tour covering Nicaragua, Costa Rica, 
 1 *■ and the Isthmus of Panama. The party travel the various canal 
 routes, and have a number of highly interesting experiences. The vol- 
 ume contains a vast amount of timely information, and will be read witt 
 interest by young men as well as boys. 
 
PAN-AMERICAN SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 VOLUME FOUR 
 
 YOUNG EXPLORERS OF THE AMAZON 
 Or American Boys in Brazil 
 
 300 pages 12mo Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 AN absorbing tale of sight-seeing and adventures in 
 Brazil. The five boys and their tutor travel the 
 whole seacoast from Rio de Janeiro to Para, and then 
 move up the Amazon into the rubber country and beyond. 
 The volume is filled with pen-pictures of life as it exists 
 in Brazil to-day, and will be heartily enjoyed by all young 
 people. 
 
 The Pan-American Series by Edward Stratemeyer has been declared by 
 the boys of this country to be the most up-to-date of all reading for the 
 young. Filled with action and good fellowship. — Waverley Magazine. 
 
 VOLUME FIVE 
 
 TREASURE SEEKERS OF THE ANDES 
 
 Or American Boys in Peru 
 
 310 pages Illustrated by Charles Nuttall Price $1.25 
 
 THIS volume takes the young explorers from the head 
 of the Amazon River to the coast of Peru and then 
 into the mighty snow-topped mountains. One of the boys 
 obtains possession of a secret regarding a Spanish treasure 
 and, with a companion, goes in quest of the same, and both 
 get lost in a series of caves. The volume is up-to-date and 
 will please both young and old. 
 
 Mr. Stratemeyer has acquired the art of weaving a good deal of solid 
 information with his web of startling adventure. — San Francisco Bulletin. 
 
COLONIAL SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 FIRST VOLUME 
 
 WITH WASHINGTON IN THE WEST 
 
 Or a Soldier Boy s Battles in the Wilderness 
 
 Illustrated by A. B. Shute 302 pages $1.25 
 
 MR. STRATEMEYER has woven into an excellent story something 
 *■ *• of Washington's youthful experience as a surveyor, leading on 
 to the always thrilling Braddock's defeat. The hero, David Morris, 
 is several years younger than Washington, with whom he becomes 
 intimately associated. Pictures of pioneer life are given ; scenes with 
 friendly Indians ; and old-time games. 
 
 SECOND VOLUME 
 
 MARCHING ON NIAGARA 
 
 Or The Soldier 'Boys of the Old Frontier 
 
 Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 'THE story relates the doings of two young soldiers who join the 
 *■ Colonial forces in a march on Fort Niagara, during the time of 
 the war with France, when the whole territory between the Blue 
 Ridge and the Great Lakes was in a state of unrest. Many side lights 
 are thrown into the colonial homes, and much useful information is 
 given of the pioneers who helped to make our country what it is to-day. 
 
 David Morris is a fine fellow, and about him is woven a fine "Injun" story that 
 is sure to delight the boys. — Universalist Leader, Boston. 
 
 THIRD VOLUME 
 
 cAT THE FALL OF MONTREAL 
 
 Or a Soldier 'Boy's Final Victory 
 
 Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 THIS volume relates the adventures of Dave Morris and his cousin 
 Henry during the two last campaigns against the French for the 
 possession of Canada and the territory below the great lakes. The scal- 
 ing of the heights of Quebec under General Wolfe, and the memorable 
 battle on the Plains of Abraham, are given in detail. There are many 
 stirring scenes of battle, and there are also adventures while fishing and 
 hunting, and with the Indians. 
 
 The chief charm of Mr. Stratemevtr's stories lies in the fact that an enormous 
 quantity of valuable information, collected from the most reliable sources, is 
 deftly woven into the narrative without taking away from the interest.— 
 Philadelphia Inquirer. 
 
COLONIAL SERIES 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEHEYER 
 
 FOURTH VOLUME 
 
 ON THE TRAIL OF PONTIAC 
 
 Or Pioneer Boys of the Ohio 
 
 Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 HTHIS volume tells of times in our country immediately after the war 
 ■*■ with France for the possession of Canada. A fight with the Indians 
 and the French in a snowstorm is especially realistic, and the entire book 
 carries with it the atmosphere of colonial times. 
 
 Boys are attracted to stories bv Edward Stratemeyer, and they will enjoy "On 
 the Trail of Pontiac.*'— Plain Dialer, Cleveland, O. 
 
 VOLUME FTVE 
 
 THE FORT IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 Or The Soldier Boys of the Indian Trails 
 
 306 pages Illustrated by A. B. Shute Price $1.25 
 
 ""THIS story is one of the best tales of Colonial days penned by this 
 *■ favorite author for young people. A central figure is the noted 
 Indian warrior, Pontiac, and the particulars are given of the rise and fall 
 of that awful conspiracy against the whites, which will newer be forgotten, 
 and vivid pen pictures are given of fights in and around the forts and at a 
 trading-post on the Ohio. 
 
 VOLUME SIX 
 
 TRAIL AND TRADING POST 
 
 Or The Young Hunters of the Ohio 
 
 320 pages Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 A FINE closing volume to this deservingly popular series. Here we 
 again meet the Morris boys, and many other friends. The plot 
 centres about the possession of a certain trading-post on the Ohio River at 
 a time just previous to the Revolution, and there are some encounters 
 with the unfriendly Indians and with some Frenchmen who wished to 
 claim the post as their own. 
 
 There are few authors whose books have so wide and so thoroughly satisfactory 
 » reading as those by Mr. Stratemeyer. — Courier, Boston. 
 
GOOD BOOKS FOR BOYS 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 TWO YOUNG LUMBERMEN 
 
 Or From Maine to Oregon for Fortune 
 
 320 pages Cloth Illustrated Price $1.25 
 
 A SPLENDID story, the scene shifting from Maine to 
 Michigan and the Great Lakes, and then to the Col- 
 umbia and the Great Northwest. The heroes are two sturdy 
 youths who have been brought up among the lumbermen 
 of their native State, and who strike out in an honest en- 
 deavor to better their condition. An ideal volume for every 
 wide-awake American who wishes to know what our great 
 lumber industry is to-day. 
 
 Mr. Stratemeyer's books are not only entertaining but instructive. — Daily 
 Press, Portland, Me. 
 
 Profitable reading for its information concerning a great American indus- 
 try. — Outlook, New York. 
 
 The book is an excellent one for youngsters. — Republican, Springfield, 
 Mass. 
 
 A rattling good story. — Herald, Baltimore, Md. 
 
 Mr. Stratemeyer is able to give an air of reality to his work which com' 
 mends it. — Chicago News. 
 
 BETWEEN BOER AND BRITON 
 
 Or Two Boys' Adventures in South Africa, 
 
 Illustrated by A. Burnham Shute 354 pages Price $1.25 
 
 RELATES the experiences of two boys, cousins to 
 each other, one American and the other English, 
 whose fathers are engaged in the Transvaal, one in farming 
 and the other in mining operations. While the two boys 
 are off on a hunting trip after big game the war between 
 the Boers and Britons suddenly breaks out, and while en- 
 deavoring to rejoin their parents the boys find themselves 
 placed between hostile armies. 
 
 A stirring story of the South African War. — ■ The Journal, Indianapolis, 
 Ind. 
 
 Mr. Stratemeyer certainly gets right next to the boys' heart in his excel' 
 lent stories of adventure. — News, Providence, P. I. 
 
 The author is one of the most accomplished writers for the young.— 
 San Prancisco Chronicle, 
 
Both Sides of the Great Civil War 
 
 DEFENDING HIS FLAG 
 
 Or A Boy in Blue and a Boy in Gray 
 
 By Edward Stratemeyer 
 
 431 pages Eight fu!I=page illustrations by Griswold Tyng 
 Beautifully bound in colors and gold Price $1.50 
 
 This tale relates the adventures of two boys, or rather 
 young men, during the first campaign of our great 
 Civil War. One enlists in the infantry of the North, while 
 the other throws in his fortunes with the cavalry of the 
 South. Of the story Mr. Stratemeyer himself says s 
 
 "In writing this work I have had but one object in view, and that was 
 to give a faithful picture of a part of the Civil War as seen from both sides 
 of that never-to-be-forgotten conflict. During the war, and for years after- 
 ward, grown folk and young people were treated to innumerable books on 
 the subject, all written from either the Northern or the Southern point of 
 view, thoroughly biased, and calculated to do more harm than good. . 
 I think the time has come when the truth, and the whole truth at that, can 
 be told, and when it will do positive good. Since the Spanish-American 
 War, when some of the gallant Southern officers and men made such records 
 for themselves under Old Glory, the old lines have been practically wiped 
 out. The reconstructed South is as firm a part of our nation as was the 
 old South during the first half of the last century, and it has a perfect right 
 to honor the memories of those who, while wearing the gray and march- 
 ing under the stars and bars, fought so gallantly for what they considered 
 was right and true." 
 
 The mantle of Henty, as a writer of books of history and travel for boys, seems to 
 have fallen on Mr. Stratemeyer. — Z ion's Herald, Boston. 
 
 Everybody knows that Edward Stratemeyer is the most widely read of all living 
 American writers for boys. — Dispatch, Pittsburg, Pa, 
 
American Bays' Biographical Series 
 
 By EDWARD STRATEMEYER 
 
 VOLUME ONE 
 
 AMERICAN BOYS 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM McKJNLEY 
 
 3C0 pages Illustrated by A. B. Shute and from Photo- 
 graphs $1.25 
 
 HERE is told the whole story of McKinley's boyhood days, his life 
 at school and at college, his work as a school teacher, his glorious 
 career in the army, his struggles to obtain a footing as a lawyer, 
 his efforts as a Congressman and a Governor, and lastly his prosperous 
 career as our President, all told in a style particularly adapted to beys and 
 young men. The book is full of interesting anecdotes, all taken from 
 life, showing fully the sincere, honest, painstaking efforts of a life cut all 
 too short. The volume will prove an inspiration to all boys and young 
 men, and should be in every library. 
 
 For nearly a year Mr. Stratemeyer has been gathering material and 
 giving careful study to the life of the young William, his childhood, his 
 boyhood, and all his inspiring and romantic history. The story was near- 
 ing its end when the awful finale came and tragedy ended the drama of 
 President McKinley's life. — New York Journal. 
 
 VOLUME TWO 
 
 AMERICAN BOYS' LIFE OF 
 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 
 300 pages l2mo Illustrated from Photographs $1.25 
 
 THIS excellent work for young 
 people covers the whole life of 
 our strenuous executive, as school- 
 boy, college student, traveler, author, 
 hunter and ranchman, as assembly- 
 man, as civil service commissioner, 
 as Assistant Secretary of the Navy. 
 as a daring rough rider, as Governor 
 of New York, and lastly as President. 
 Full of stories taken from real life 
 and told in a manner to interest both 
 young and old. 
 
 We unreservedly recommend Mr. Strate- 
 They are wholesome, accurate as to historical 
 
 roeyw't books for boys. 
 
 i?<etai!fc. and alwavs interesting. — Boston Times