It was a considerably shorter route than the other, but the trail was, in
certain spots, more difficult.

At first James Morris, had thought to use the upper and shorter route, but
he was fairly well acquainted with the other, and at last decided to stick
to that which he knew rather than experiment with the unknown.

"I know we can get through on General Braddock's road," he said. "It may
take a few days longer, but time is of no immense value to us."

"You are quite sure the Indians on that road are at peace with us?" asked
his brother's wife timidly, "I do not wish Henry to get into more fighting.
He saw quite enough of that during the war."

"White Buffalo assures me that, for the present, the war hatchet has been
buried everywhere, Lucy. To be sure, there is no telling when it will be
dug up again. But I reckon we can take care of ourselves should trouble
come."

The starting of the expedition proved quite an event at Will's Creek, and
many neighbors living within a radius of two and three miles came to see
them off. Among the number was Paul Thompson, who said he would do what he
could for those left behind during the absence of James Morris, Dave, and
Henry.

It was a perfect day, with a warm breeze blowing up from the Potomac River.
Not a cloud ruffled the sky, and the spring birds filled the air with their
melody.

"Puts me in mind of the time I went out to the trading-post with you," said