It was indeed a perilous enterprise; one from which the boldest spirit might recoil. The first garrison which could be reached was on the Ohio river, about one hundred and twenty miles below the point where Pittsburg now stands. Here the French were erecting a strong fortress, to which the Indians resorted for trade. There was an intervening wilderness, from the settlements in Virginia, to be traversed, of pathless forests, gloomy morasses, craggy mountains, and almost impenetrable thickets, of nearly six hundred miles. Bands of savages, on the war-path or engaged in the hunt, were ever ranging these wilds. Many were exasperated by wrongs which they themselves had received, or of which they had heard, inflicted by the white men. The Indians, in all these north-western regions, had welcomed the French as brothers; and truly fraternal relationship existed between them. And they had nearly all learned to hate the English, who have never succeeded in winning the love of any people. In such a journey, one must depend entirely, for subsistence, upon the game which could be taken. There was danger of being crippled by a strain or a broken bone, and of thus perishing, beyond the reach of all aid. There was no little danger from the tomahawk of the savage. It was also probable that the French officers would not allow the commissioner, whom they would regard as a spy, to return to the English colonies with information so valuable to their foes. Principles of justice and mercy have never had much control in military affairs. It would be very easy for the French so to arrange matters, that a band of savages should massacre and plunder the party of the commissioner, in the depths of the forest, under such circumstances that it would necessarily be regarded as merely a savage outrage. There was no one to be found willing to expose himself to such hardships, and his life to such risks. At length George Washington, who was then but twenty years and six months old, came forward and volunteered his services. It was universally regarded, by the community, as an act of great heroism. Governor Dinwiddie, a blunt and sturdy Scotchman, eagerly accepted his proffered services. As he grasped the hand of the youthful Washington, he exclaimed: “Truly you are a brave lad. And if you play your cards well, you shall have no cause to repent of your bargain.” The sobriety and dignity of character of Washington were such, that no one thought of accusing him of boyish fool-hardiness. And he had such experience in the deprivations and perils of the wilderness, that it could not be questioned that he fully understood the nature of the enterprise in which he had engaged.