This was all the Frenchman could tell, and Dave thanked him. With a downcast heart the youth walked away with Barringford.
"Sam, I wish I was with father!" he cried, presently. "I'd give all I'm worth to be with him this minute!"
"It gits me how thet Jean Bevoir should turn up," returned the old frontiersman.
"I think we ought to start for home, or for Fort Pitt, at once," went on Dave.
"Easier said nor done, lad. You remember what a time we had gittin' here. We don't want to fall into the hands o' them redskins. They are red-hot fer slaughter jest now."
"Yes, I know, but——"
"I can understand your anxiety, Dave. But jest at present, we'd better stay here."
The days went by, and for the time being the Indians outside of the fort did little or nothing. Unknown to Major Gladwyn they were on the lookout for the convoy which they knew was expected from Fort Schlosser, just above the Falls of Niagara. Later on this convoy fell into the red men's hands, adding greatly to the privations at Fort Detroit. The Indians also went down to Fort Sandusky, which was quickly burned to the ground. Then followed attacks on Presque Isle, Venango, and other points, so that by June only three important forts, Niagara, Detroit, and Pitt, held out against the enemy. At some of the smaller forts the slaughter was so terrible and complete that not a soul lived to tell of the tragedy.
Satisfied at last that Benoit Vascal would not return to Detroit for the present, Dave and Barringford made up their minds to return to Fort Cumberland at the first opportunity. Reports were now coming in thickly that the uprising was general, and one messenger brought the news (which afterwards proved to be false), that the Indians were attacking some of the towns close to the seacoast.
"We must get back," insisted Dave. "For all we know, we may be needed the worst way."