In these days of fast trains, trolley cars, and automobiles it is difficult to imagine what such a journey as this before the colonists meant. Instead of covering thirty to sixty miles an hour they were content to cover ten to twenty miles between sunrise and sunset. The road lay over the hills and through the mountains, with mighty forests on all sides, where the ring of the woodsman’s axe had scarcely been heard. Great rivers were to be crossed, and if the bridge was down or out of repair they had to find another place to cross or else stop to mend the structure. Where the road lay along a mountain side the rain would sometimes cover it with mud and stones to a depth of a foot or more, making the advance extra laborious. Here and there the wind had blown a tree down over their path, and then they would have to either work their way around it, or else cut through or over it. In some spots the tree-branches were so low the horses could scarcely get under them, and here all the travelers would have to advance on foot, and see to it that none of the packs were lost. Once a pack caught on a sharp bough and tore open, scattering the contents in all directions. “Won’t catch me coming out here again,” grumbled Asa Dobson. “Folks out Baltimore way said I could make my fortune in them western countries, but I don’t see it. Them Injuns nearly killed me and my wife twict, and they stole my hoss, and I’m going to stay in the east after this, and work for my old master, the Earl of Chester. The Injuns can have them western countries for all o’ me!” “Don’t you want to be your own master and own your own plantation?” asked Rodney. “No, not if I’ve got to fight Injuns to keep it,” answered Dobson. He was used to life around the larger towns, and the loneliness of the wilderness struck him with a peculiar terror. However the journey had its bright spots. The men in advance always secured plenty of game—deer, rabbits, squirrels, wild turkeys, and partridges—and the children often stopped to pick the wild flowers which still bloomed along the roadside. At nightfall they would go into camp beside some brook or spring of pure mountain water, and there would gather around a generous campfire, to eat the main meal of the day and make themselves at home. During the evening hours Sam Barringford would tell the children wonderful stories of hunting, or of his army adventures while out with Dave and Henry,—tales which they listened to with much interest. “Tom is going to be a soldier when he grows up,” said one of the little boys. “Artie is going to be a soldier too, and have a beautiful uniform,” put in the other promptly. They spoke thus in childish fashion, little dreaming of the days to come when they would both shoulder their muskets in the War for Independence. So far they had met nobody on the road. When Sunday came they spent the day in a much-needed rest. Nell repeated to Rodney some Bible verses and tried to teach them to the twins.