"Sam, there has been more fighting around here."
It was Dave who spoke, and as he did so, he pointed to the blackened ruins of a cabin which had been located three miles from Fort Cumberland. The ruins were still smoking.
"It's a general uprising, sure enough, Dave," returned the old frontiersman. "I only hope we find all o' the folks we left behind safe an' sound."
They had been pursuing a side trail, but now they reached the main road, and as they did so, they heard a clatter of horses' hoofs and a moment later a woman and two children, followed by a man, came into sight.
"Hello, Mr. Dumphreys!" cried Dave. "Where are you bound?"
"Oh, Morris, is it you?" was the reply, from the man. "Bound for Fort Cumberland. Have you seen anything of Polly, our young colored slave?"
"Polly? No."
"Then the Indians must have carried her off."
"Had a fight up to your house?" inquired Barringford.
"Yes. But we got away in the darkness last night and hid in the thickets until this morning. Polly said she would join us, but we couldn't see her anywhere. I can tell you, these are terrible times."