"I have not, sir. The messengers cannot get through, for the Indians are watching every trail. You will undoubtedly find hundreds of them within only a few miles of here."
"We must get to Fort Pitt even so," was Colonel Bouquet's brief rejoinder.
Yet the commander realized that the dangerous part of his mission was now before him, and a rest of three days was given to the soldiers, during which time some additional supplies were gathered in. From Fort Bedford, nothing but the unbroken wilderness lay before the army, and the road, because of the heavy growth of brush and branches, was in spots almost impassable. What had become of the party that had pushed by side trails to Fort Ligonier was not known.
The weather proved unusually warm and a dry spell covered the road with thick dust. Slowly and painfully the army toiled along, over hills and through hollows, often having to cut away the brush and branches to let the wagons pass. A strict watch was kept for the enemy, and the supply were jealously guarded by the regulars, while the rangers "beat up the brush," so that nothing like an ambuscade might surprise them.
"This is rough walking, truly," observed Rodney, as he marched forward with the perspiration running down his face.
"How does your leg feel?" questioned Dave. "I hope this doesn't prove too much for you."
"Oh, I reckon I can pull through," said the former cripple, bravely.
On went the army as gallantly as before, but with added caution. The silence of the wilderness was profound, and not a single Indian showed himself. Yet they were watching the English soldiers with jealous eyes, as later events proved.
There was a series of hills to cross, and in one spot the road was so bad the army had to wait until it was repaired, so that the wagons might get through. They marched until nightfall, and then gathered in a small circle, with guards on all sides, that they might not be surprised.
"Colonel Bouquet has learned his lesson well," said Dave. "He doesn't intend to be caught as General Braddock was."