fated not to thrive. We must push on to some other territory."

Dismounting, they started to poke among the ruins, thinking they might
possibly turn up something of value. While they were at this task
Barringford and the others appeared.

"Well, I vum!" cried the old frontiersman. "Ef this ain't jess too
naturally bad fer anything! Didn't expect it like this, did ye? An' sech a
handsome spot as it was, too!"

"White Buffalo's heart is sad," said the Indian chief. "He feels sore for
his brother James. The great forest has fallen, and many will be the
summers ere it rises again."

"You are right, White Buffalo," answered the trader. "And even when it does
rise, it will not be as grand as it was before."

The party could not go into camp on the burn-over, so Sanderson took charge
of the pack-train and led it along the river, where the waters flowed
toward the broad Ohio. In the meantime, the Morrises and Sam Barringford
dug over the ashes where the trading-post had stood.

Little of value was found, outside of a rusty pistol, two rusty hunting
knives, a bullet mold, a string of wampum, and a few earthen dishes, and an
hour later the searchers left the spot.

"It is too bad," said James Morris. "I loved the place dearly. But it may
be we shall find another further on that is just as good."

"Let us hope it will be better," said Dave, trying to look on the cheerful