“We are certainly shut in pretty well,” returned Joseph Morris. “At the best, we’ll have to dig our way out.” “The hosses could never git through on the trail,” put in one of the frontiersmen. “It would be cruelty to try it. Why, the snow must be ten an’ twelve feet deep in some o’ the hollows.” “And we’d lose our way,” said another. “Might as well stay where we are and be comfortable until it clears a bit.” He was troubled with soreness of the feet, and found traveling very hard. “We can’t stay here very long,” said Joseph Morris. “We have lost so much time our provisions are running low.” The matter was discussed for an hour, and they decided to remain in the camp and make themselves as comfortable as possible. The snow was banked up for shelter, and pine boughs cut for couches, and a roaring fire was kept going all the while. “It’s a pity we must stay here,” sighed Dave. “I think if we could reach the post in such weather as this we would take Jean Bevoir and his crowd completely by surprise.” “I think so myself,” replied Henry. “But we must be patient, and take matters as they come.” CHAPTER XXV CRUSHING NEWS The expedition had to remain in camp for the best part of a week, and during that time provisions ran exceedingly low. To stock the larder several of the men, and also Dave and Henry, went out in the near-by woods and shot whatever came into sight. The two youths were fortunate in bringing down several wild turkeys of good size and also uncovered a sleeping bear that they killed with ease. This meat came in when the stock of provisions was at its lowest, and proved highly acceptable. At last the trail seemed to be fit to use once more, and Joseph Morris ordered the advance to be made. It was hard walking, either on foot or on snowshoes, and many times the poor horses refused to go another step and had to rest for an hour at a time. Six miles were all they could cover the first day after starting, and the youths felt as tired as if they had walked five times that distance. Moving the sick stranger was a harder task than ever, but nobody thought of leaving him behind. The second day, however, brought an improvement. They gained a small creek flowing into the Kinotah and followed this to the larger stream. Walking on the ice was easier than in the snow. Occasionally one or another would slip down, but nobody complained. “We are at the old post!” cried Dave, as the burnt district came into view. They stopped for dinner on the spot, and then took their way down the Kinotah to the Ohio. The weather was now moderating rapidly, so that during the middle of the day the sun was positively warm. Much of the snow turned to slush and water, freezing a little at night and thawing more than ever during the day. The surface of the river became wet, and Joseph Morris cautioned all against stepping on ice that might be rotten.