"That is certainly fine. Boys, I reckon you are proud of the haul."
"We are," answered Dave promptly, and Henry nodded. "Have you seen anything
of Hector Bergerac?" he continued.
"Yes, he is here now. He has told me his story, and told me all about Jean
Bevoir, Jacques Valette, and that redskin they call Flat Nose. Hector
Bergerac wants to cut the whole crowd, and I am going to help him to do
it."
The weather had threatened a change, and inside of a week after Dave and
his companions returned to the trading-post there was a heavy frost, and,
two days later, a touch of ice.
"I think winter is coming now," said James Morris. "And if anybody is going
to start for home he'll have to do it soon."
"I shouldn't mind taking the trip," answered Dave. "It seems an age since I
saw Uncle Joe and the others."
The matter was talked over for several days, and it was finally agreed that
Dave should go eastward this time, in company with Barringford and White
Buffalo and his braves. Henry would remain with his uncle, and so would the
others at the trading-post. Only a few horses were to be taken along, and
in the spring Dave and Barringford were to purchase ten additional steeds,
and bring along a well-guarded pack-train containing goods to the value of
eight hundred pounds. The trading-post was now doing well, and it looked as
if, sooner or later, the Morrises would make a small fortune out of it.
The departure was made in a keen, frosty air, which was as clear as it was
invigorating. Henry and Dave's father accompanied those who were going as
far as the burn-over on the Kinotah, and then watched them out of sight
around a bend of the trail.
"It looks a bit familiar to me now," said Dave to Barringford, as they rode
along under the big trees.
"I suppose in a few years more there will be a regular road here, just as
there now is from Fort Pitt eastward."
"Like as not, lad, onless the redskins upset everything again."
"They have been very quiet lately."
"Yes, Dave, but thet may be the calm afore a storm, as sailor men call it.
I don't believe in trustin' a quiet Injun."
"White Buffalo is good enough when he is quiet," answered the youth, with a
merry glance at the chief mentioned, who was riding a short distance to the
rear.
"True, but a few good Injuns don't make a basketful," answered Barringford,
using a form of speech he had heard once when down East.
The weather proved fine until Fort Pitt was gained. Here the party put up
for two days, the commandant of the stronghold being glad to meet those who
might bring news.
"All is quiet here," said the officer. "There was something of a plan to
attack us during the summer, but it fell through, why I don't exactly know.
I think the Indians are waiting for the French to help them."
"Will they do that?" asked Dave.
"I don't think so. The French are having their hands full in the old
country."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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