At last the army came in sight of Fort Ligonier, which was located a hundred and fifty miles from Carlisle. Only a few Indians were seen besieging the stronghold and they ran away as soon as the army came up.
"The others have arrived here in safety," was the cry which went up, and it proved true. A small fight had taken place, but nobody had been hurt.
"I am thankful you have come," said the commandant of Fort Ligonier to Colonel Bouquet. "We are in great danger, and the danger is increasing every day."
"Any news from Fort Pitt?"
"Not the slightest, sir. One messenger tried to get through last week but was shot down. The Indians have been hemming us in closely for a month."
Satisfied now beyond all doubt that Fort Pitt had either fallen or was in sore straits, Colonel Bouquet resolved to push forward more vigorously than ever.
"Every hour counts," he said to his under officers. "I shall leave my wagons here, and also the oxen, and take only some pack horses along."
The advance from Fort Ligonier was begun on the fourth of August. A few sharpshooters, including Sam Barringford, went ahead, and then followed the regular troops and the rangers, having in their midst about three hundred and fifty pack horses and thirty-odd cattle—the latter for fresh meat for the soldiers.
"We are coming to a dangerous part of the road now," remarked Dave, as they marched along. "Just ahead of us is a deep hollow, with a little stream at the bottom. If the Indians catch us there we'll be like rats in a trap."
Dave was right. The stream he mentioned was Turtle Creek, and as Colonel Bouquet had been warned by the officers at Fort Ligonier of the danger of the locality, he resolved to go ahead cautiously and, if necessary, cross the creek during the night, when the red men would not have such a good opportunity to fire on his army.