He sped away accordingly, re-crossing the little river where the party of Le Caille had encountered the Indian spy, and pressing forward upon the route which he had been before pursuing. Day and night he travelled with little intermission, in the endeavor to put as great a space as possible between his band and their enemies. But the toil had become too severe for his people. They began to falter, and were finally compelled to halt for a rest of two or more days, in a snug and pleasant valley, such as they could easily defend. Here they suffered several disasters. One of his men, drying some gunpowder before the fire, it exploded, and he was so dreadfully burnt that he survived but a day, and expired in great agony. Another, who went out after game, never returned. He probably fell a victim to his own imprudence, or sunk under the arrows of some prowling savage. The camp was broken up in haste and apprehension, and the march resumed. Their force was now reduced to thirteen men, and these were destined to still further reduction. The cold had become excessive. The feet of the Frenchmen grew sore from constant exercise; and at length, despairing of the long progress still before them before they could reach the sea, Alphonse D'Erlach yielded to the growing desire of his people to ascend the mountains and seek a nearer spot of refuge, or at least of temporary repose. He began to give ear more earnestly to the story of the great city of the mountains; or, he seemed to do so. At all events,--such was the suggestion--'we can shelter ourselves for the winter in some close valley of the hills; here we can build log dwellings, and supply ourselves with game as hunters.' The Frenchmen had acquired sufficient experience of Indian habits to resort to their modes of meeting the exigencies of the season. They knew what were the roots which might be bruised, macerated, and made into bread; and they had been fed on acorns more than once by the Floridian savages. They began the painful ascent, accordingly, which carried them up the heights of Apalachia, that mighty chain of towers which divide the continent from north to south. They had probably reached the region which now forms the upper country of Georgia and South Carolina.