The pair talked it over for two days and then told Major Gladwyn of their plans. They found that a trapper named Flabig was also going to leave, and it was arranged that the three should go together. A dark night was chosen for the departure, and the three were provided with a stout canoe and such provisions as the commandant of the fort could spare.
"We're taking our lives in our hands, Dave," came from the old frontiersman, when they set out. "We may never reach another civilized settlement again."
After that but little was said. The hunter, Flabig, knew the Detroit River and Lake Erie well, and they trusted the navigation of their little craft to him. Fortunately, although it was dark, some of the stars were shining, by which they guided their course.
For once fortune favored them, and by the following morning they had left Fort Detroit far behind, and were on the broad expanse of Lake Erie. Not a vessel of any kind was in sight, for which they were thankful.
"We've given the Injuns the slip this time," said Barringford. "I must say, now it's over, I didn't calkerlate we'd git away."
They kept on down the lake all of that day and for the greater part of the night. Then, growing alarmed at the sight of several canoes in the dim distance, they turned into shore, and went into camp until the next night, when the journey was resumed.
Summer was now at hand, and at one place where they stopped they found a profusion of wild strawberries. They also saw not a little game, and, at the risk of being discovered, brought down as much as they desired with their rifles.
"This is indeed a wilderness," observed Dave, gazing about them. "I don't believe there's an Indian within twenty miles of us."
"Don't be too sure," answered Barringford. "They don't say, 'How dy'e do!' an' tip their caps when they spot ye."
One day followed another and still the three kept on their journey. The lake was now left behind, and they started on almost a straight trail to the southward.