Miles Parker showed plainly how well such a plan suited him, while the two wounded lads strove unsuccessfully to hide the sorrow which they felt at not being able to accompany us. Oscar Stephenson even went so far as to claim that it could do him no harm to march in our company; but Mistress Morley very quickly put an end to his hopes by saying, emphatically, that he should not be allowed even so much as to stand on his feet until his wound gave better promise of healing. Well, we did whatsoever we might around about the cave, and then, as Stephen Morley had said, those whom we would leave behind us were provided for in the way of necessities for at least three weeks. The entrance to this dwelling in the mountainside had been, as I have already said, nearly closed by boulders, and there was enough of fuel inside to make as much of a fire as they would dare build, for it was not wise that too large an amount of smoke be allowed to escape, lest it attract attention from a distance. The water-supply was unfailing; the deer meat would be all the better for seasoning awhile, and in event of our being absent longer than we then counted on, that which was not eaten could readily be smoked. We left behind us two muskets, with a goodly amount of ammunition, and, although two of our party would march forth unarmed, save as to their knives, we counted on being able to supply them with weapons before many days had passed. Then came the time for us to set off, and I feared that the leave-taking would be painful; but it was Mistress Morley who spared us, by saying, as she held the two children up for her husband to kiss: “It shall only be a God love you, Stephen, and not a good-by.” Then Giles March cried out cheerfully to the wounded: “Take care of yourselves, lads, and get into condition as soon as possible. One or the other of us will be back every few days to know how you are progressing, and in a short time you will join us, for it is in my mind that the Minute Boys of the Wyoming Valley are far from being wiped out of existence.” Then we set our faces toward the river, marching rapidly in order to take advantage of the daylight which yet remained, and making no effort to hold converse one with another, for, although it was our desire to thus go out in the hope of being able to succor those who were in need, our hearts were heavy, as indeed they well might be. We travelled light, carrying only so much of provisions as would allay the pangs of hunger during twenty-four hours, and therefore moved with reasonable rapidity, covering the five miles of distance before the sun had been out of sight an hour. Daniel Hinchman went to where he had hidden the canoe, believing as did I that we would cross that same night, and two trips would be necessary, since the light craft could carry no more than four; but, before she was launched, Stephen Morley said: