CHAPTER XVII

THE JOURNEY TO THE TRADING POST

Leaving Dave and Henry at Fort Pitt, let us shift the scene further westward and note how James Morris and his party fared on their way towards the trading post on the Ohio River.

The party felt the full effects of the snowstorm, and had to go into a temporary camp. The wind, however, hardly touched them, and they were left in ignorance of the great damage done in other directions.

“’Tis lucky we brought our snowshoes with us,” said Peaceful Jones. “With such a fall, most of our traveling will have to be with the shoes on.”

They had gone into camp under some overhanging rocks, where a big fire had kept them warm. The old trappers had brought down a deer and some rabbits, so they did not suffer for the want of food, having brought along two slabs of bacon, some beans and flour, and likewise a few cooking utensils.

On the morning after the snowstorm they set off early, and by the middle of the afternoon found themselves ten miles further on their journey in the direction of the post. It had been hard work to travel on the snowshoes, over a trail which was all but obliterated, and Pomeroy requested that they rest again.

“I’ve been a-loafin’ around thet fort so much I ain’t got my walkin’ legs yit,” was the manner in which he expressed himself. “Maybe I’ll hev ’em by ter-morrer.”

“I fancy we all need the rest,” answered James Morris. “I am stiff myself. We’ll get used to the snowshoes in a day or two.”

They searched for another resting-place, and James Morris found a spot he had used for that purpose when he had first gone west—to establish himself on the Kinotah.

“That seems a long time ago,” said the trader, to Tony Jadwin. “And think of all that has happened since! The war with France, and the capture of Fort Pitt, Niagara, Quebec, Montreal, and a number of other places, and then this war with Pontiac and the tribes under him. Surely, Tony, we can be thankful that we live to tell about it.”

“Yes,” answered the trapper addressed. “And think of the fights at the old trading post and then at the new one! And we ain’t done yet, I am sorry to say.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it is worth all the trouble and risk”, continued James Morris. “I have gained a little, but it has cost me dear.”

“I’d never give in to the Indians or to them Frenchmen, Mr. Morris. Why, if you give ’em a pound they’ll want a thousand.”

“I know that.”

“The land in the west belongs to the English now, and a fair share of it is yours. Those Indians and those Frenchmen have got to leave us alone, an’ the sooner they learn the lesson the better,” concluded Tony Jadwin.

The new resting-place was where some tall trees grew on the very edge of a cliff. One tree had fallen, and its gigantic roots hung over the cliff, forming a network over which it was easy to place some pine branches. As the cliff was hollowed out just beyond the trees, this left a space about eight feet deep by twenty feet long where they could make themselves comfortable. Against the rocks they built a fire, the smoke escaping through some crevices. They cooked themselves a haunch of venison and some beans and biscuits, and took their own time about eating. All went to sleep as soon as it grew dark, knowing that a long, hard tramp lay before them at daybreak.

The travelers were destined not to be allowed to rest undisturbed. James Morris slept several hours when he was awakened by having a cold nose pressed against his face. He opened his eyes and sat up and at the same instant heard a low growl.

“A bear!” he yelled, as loudly as he could. “A bear! Two of them!”

The trader was right—two full-grown bears had entered the camp, evidently attracted by the smell of venison and bacon. As James Morris arose the bears retreated to another part of the shelter, one stepping directly upon Peaceful Jones.

“Git orf o’ me, ye sinner!” gasped the frontiersman, wrathfully. “Git orf, I say!” And then as the bear backed away, he reached for his rifle and tried to take aim. But Mr. Morris was in the way, and he did not dare to pull the trigger.

By this time the whole camp was in an uproar. Tony Jadwin tried to rise, but just as he did so one of the bears ran against him, pitching him down in such a fashion that one hand went into the smoldering fire.

“Great hamstrings!” roared the trapper, wiping the hot ashes from his hand. “What’s this mean? Two b’ars, eh? Shoot ’em, somebody! Shoot em!”

The bears were now evidently as much frightened as those who had been asleep, and tumbling against the rocks and the tree-roots they got out of the shelter and ran off along a stretch which the wind had swept clear of snow. The commotion made some dirt and snow fall on the fire, practically extinguishing it.

“Stir up that fire, Pomeroy,” said James Morris, as soon as something like quietness had been restored. The man addressed did so and piled on some light brushwood, so that they might look around them. They found much in disorder, and soon made the discovery that the bears had carried off every pound of the meat.

“They didn’t do it just now,” said Tony Jadwin. “They must have made two trips o’ it. Likely they didn’t get enough the first time. Drat the luck, anyway! We kin shoot some more venison, but we can’t git no bacon, an’ bacon is what I like best.” In those days deer meat was so plentiful among the hunters that many grew tired of eating it, just as many farmers to-day get tired of eating chickens.

Had it been daylight some of the party would have been in favor of following the bears up and shooting them. But this was voted out of the question in the darkness, and so they retired once more, leaving one man, however, to remain on guard and attend to the fire.

The next day the weather remained clear and the sun made the snow pack down a trifle, so that it became easier to walk on snowshoes. The route lay over several hills and then along a frozen watercourse where the ice was as smooth as glass.

“You want to be careful here”, observed Pomeroy. “This ice ain’t so hard as it looks. We ain’t had much winter, outside o’ the snowstorm.”

They followed the stream until they came to a bend, and then started to cross over. Tony Jadwin was in advance, when he heard a shout from Peaceful Jones.

“A deer!”

All looked and saw the deer, but a long distance off. Anxious to get a shot, Peaceful Jones started along the river bank on the icy snow. He had gone only a few steps, when they suddenly saw him throw up his hands and disappear from view.

“Hello! What does that mean?” exclaimed James Morris. “Was he shot?”

“Either thet or he went through a hole,” answered one of the other men.

All brought their rifles around, ready for use, and then started toward the spot where the trapper had disappeared so suddenly. They saw a hole in the snow.

“He is down there!” cried James Morris. “Come, we must get him out.”

This was easier said than done. The hole was ten or twelve feet deep. The men on the surface of the snow joined hands, and thus held James Morris from falling in as the trader bent over the hole. Looking down, he could see Jones below, spluttering wildly.

“Sa—sa—save me!” were his first words. The man was so chilled that he could do scarcely more than chatter.

“We will,” answered James Morris.

He directed the last man on the line to pass forward a rifle, and he took hold of the barrel of this, while he allowed Peaceful Jones to grasp the stock. Then James Morris began to pull, and Peaceful Jones came up, over the edge of the hole, and was quickly drawn to a place of safety.

The man was so chilled that the others lost no time in building a big fire, in the meantime covering him with a blanket. Then, while he was getting warm, Pomeroy went fishing with a stick and some lines, and after a lot of trouble succeeded in bringing up Jones’s rifle.

“I was a-lookin’ at the deer, an’ didn’t see the hole,” was the explanation the trapper gave of his mishap. “After this I’ll look whar I’m steppin’.”

“Ye had better,” was Pomeroy’s comment. “’Cos it might be as thar wouldn’t be nobuddy around to help ye out ag’in!”

The river left behind, they passed on directly to the region where the first trading post had been located. This was still suffering from the effects of the burn-over, although here and there a few trees and bushes had sprouted out during the past summer.

“It was a fine spot,” said James Morris, as he stood and surveyed the site of the old post. “A fine spot. But it is no good now, and will not be for years to come.”

“As good as it was, the site of the new post is better,” answered Tony Jadwin. “In fact, I think that the new spot is the finest in this section of the country.”

“And I suppose that is why Jean Bevoir wishes to get possession of it,” went on the trader, with a trace of bitterness in his tones.

“Jean Bevoir knows a good thing when he sees it,” said Peaceful Jones. “He’s about ez wise ez he is wicked.”

“I think his party must have passed this way,” put in Pomeroy, who had been walking around. “Thar’s been a camp in yonder trees not long ago—I kin tell it by the fresh-burnt sticks.”

“Perhaps some Indians have been here,” said James Morris. “Bevoir and his followers must have reached the trading post long ago.”

“Not if they were stopped on the way.”

At this remark a sudden hope sprang into the breast of the trader.

“It would be a fine thing if he had been stopped and we could get there first!” he cried. “But I am afraid that is hoping for too much. However, let us not linger here, but move forward at once.”

The others were willing, and without delay the journey down to the Ohio was resumed. Every foot of the way was familiar to all of the party, and one or the other took the lead, over trails which their feet had trod in times of war as well as in peace.

“The Ohio at last!” said James Morris, at noon of the next day. “I am glad to see this broad stream once more.”

They were now within a few miles of the trading post, and all hurried forward with much interest, curious to learn what they should find when they arrived there.