“But the Indians?”
“The Injuns don’t stir much in the winter. An’ if we have our muskets an’ a pistol or two I reckon we kin hold our own ag’in ’em.”
The upshot of this conversation was that both Dave and the old hunter went to lay the case before their commander the next morning. The general listened patiently to what they had to say.
“To me such an undertaking is foolhardy at this season of the year,” said the general. “But if you feel that you really want to go, you have my permission, and I will give you each a paper to that effect. But if you lose your lives in the attempt your friends must not blame me.”
Dave and Barringford set off the very next day, in company with two of the messengers, named Grassbrook and Heppy. Both of the messengers were old hunters who knew the trails well, and it was said that Heppy had a trace of Indian blood in him.
The party was two days on its way when they came to the Indian village of Kanankee, presided over by an old chief named Leaping Elk. The Indians were friendly, and the travelers were glad enough to remain with them over night.
In the morning an agreeable surprise awaited Dave. During the night six warriors of the Delawares had come in, under the command of White Buffalo.
“White Buffalo!” cried the young soldier. “Where did you come from?”
“From the southward,” answered White Buffalo. “And where goes White Buffalo’s young friend David?”
“To Quebec—if we can get that far.”