"Right ye be, lad; right ye be," said the woodsman, quieting himself. "But I swan I'm that glad to see ye so young an' bloomin', both, that it jes does me old eyes good. Where ye bound fer, anyhow?" The speaker was tall and rugged, his age probably fifty years. A grizzled beard clustered round his face and his unkempt hair hung almost to his shoulders. On his head was a ragged coon-skin cap. All his dress was made of skin or furs, in the crudest frontier fashion. He was not a disagreeable appearing person, nevertheless, for his eyes twinkled merrily as a boy's. Each in his own way, Ree and John noted these facts. "I might say that we are going till we stop and that we came from where we started," said John in answer to the stranger's inquiry. "What a peart kitten ye be!" smiled the man, looking at him quizzically. "To be honest with you, we are going to the Ohio country," said Ree Kingdom, satisfied that the stranger wished to be friendly. "Ye've got spunk, I swan!" the fellow exclaimed. "Don't let me be keepin' ye though; drive along, we kin swap talk as we're movin'." "How far do you call it to old Fort Pitt?" asked Ree. "Well, it ain't so fer as a bird kin fly, an' its ferder than ye want to walk in a day. If ye have good luck ye'll come on to Braddock's road afore supper time, an' if ye don't have good luck, there's no tellin' when ye'll get thar. It want such a great ways from here that Braddock had _his_ bad luck. If he _hadn't_ had it--if he'd done as George Washington wanted him to, he'd 'a' got along like grease on a hot skillet, same as you youngsters." "Hear that John? We will make Fort Pitt in a day or two," cried Ree. "Yaas, it was forty odd years ago that Braddock had his bad luck when he bumped into a lot of Injuns in ambush. I was jest a chunk of a boy then, but I've hearn tell on it, many's the time, by my old gran'sire who learned me how to shoot. I was a reg'lar wonder with a gun when I was your age, kittens. I've picked up some since then though! See the knot-hole in that beech way over yonder? Waal, I'm going to put a bullet in the middle of it." Taking aim, the stranger fired. "Ye'll find the bullet squar' in the center," he said, in a boastful way. "Shucks!" exclaimed John, who was often too outspoken for his own good. He raised his rifle and fired. "There's another bullet right beside your own, mister," he said. "Well I swan! So there is!" called out the woodsman in great surprise. "But I'll bet a coon-skin my tother kitten can't do the like." Like a flash Ree's rifle flew to his shoulder and he seemed to take no aim whatever; yet the bullet flew true. But just an instant after he fired the crack of another rifle sounded behind him. A leaden ball shrieked close to his head and a lock of his hair fell fluttering to the ground. CHAPTER VII. On Into the Wilderness.