The two traders were confined in a hut just outside of the camp. They were chained to a stake, so escape was next to impossible. They scowled darkly at Dave and Barringford.
“A fool’s errand,” said Dave, after a glance at the men. Neither of the prisoners was Jean Bevoir.
“That’s true,” returned Barringford. “But it may be they can tell you something about Bevoir, Dave.”
“If they can speak English,” returned the young soldier.
It was speedily learned that neither of the traders could speak English. Then an interpreter was called in; but the Frenchmen refused to say whether they knew Bevoir or not.
“Never saw such stubborn men,” said the interpreter. “They won’t tell a thing. We’ve tried to starve ’em into speaking; but it’s no use.”
The commander of the post was glad to listen to what little news Dave and Barringford had to tell, and treated them to the best dinner the post afforded.
It was ten o’clock of the following morning when Dave and the old hunter started to return to Fort Oswego. The day was a gloomy one, with a promise of more snow.
“We don’t want to lose any time,” said Barringford. “If we do, we may git snow-bound.”
Some hunters from the post went with them a distance of a mile, but after that the pair were allowed to shift for themselves. They took the trail by which they had come, although they were told they could save a mile or two by going a different way.