Dave to Sam Barringford, as the two rode along side by side, "Don't you
remember what a time we had getting through, and how I fell into the river
and was afraid of being captured by the Indians?"

"Yes, lad, I remember it well," answered the old frontiersman. "But the
trail ain't half as bad as it was then--Braddock's pioneers smoothed down
the rough places putty well,--not but what some of the brushwood has grown
up ag'in."

"Shall we stop again at the Indian village of Nancoke?"

"The village ain't thar no more, Dave; fire in the forest swept it away
last year, so I heard tell some time ago. But I reckon we'll stop at some
redskin village afore we git to the Kinotah."

The end of the first day's traveling found the party miles beyond the last
plantation on the road. They stopped in the midst of a little clearing
where there had once been a house, but this the Indians had burnt years
before and the tall brushwood covered the half-burnt logs and choked up the
neighboring spring.

"The trail is poor," observed James Morris. "Much poorer than I expected.
We shall have our own troubles getting through."

"It is not as good as when Barringford and I marched under General
Braddock," answered Dave. "Then the pioneer corps cut down every tree and
bush that was in our way."

"And lost so much time our army was defeated," put in the old frontiersman
grimly. "Braddock meant well, but he didn't know how to fight Indians."