“Look out, or you’ll get stuck!” sang out Dave, and just then Henry sank to his armpits. He floundered around a good deal before he emerged from the hollow, blowing like a winded ox.
The deer had fallen over a small cliff, and they had something of a task raising it up. But at last they had the game secure, and they carried it between them, slung on a long, slender pole.
“Hurrah! I see the fort!” cried Dave, an hour later, as they drew to the top of a long hill. “The worst of the trip is over.”
He was right, and by noon they reached Fort Pitt. They were glad to rest and eat a hearty dinner, after which they told their story. The effects of the windstorm had been felt at the fort, but no great damage had been done.
CHAPTER XVII
THE JOURNEY TO THE TRADING POST
Leaving Dave and Henry at Fort Pitt, let us shift the scene further westward and note how James Morris and his party fared on their way towards the trading post on the Ohio River.
The party felt the full effects of the snowstorm, and had to go into a temporary camp. The wind, however, hardly touched them, and they were left in ignorance of the great damage done in other directions.
“’Tis lucky we brought our snowshoes with us,” said Peaceful Jones. “With such a fall, most of our traveling will have to be with the shoes on.”
They had gone into camp under some overhanging rocks, where a big fire had kept them warm. The old trappers had brought down a deer and some rabbits, so they did not suffer for the want of food, having brought along two slabs of bacon, some beans and flour, and likewise a few cooking utensils.
On the morning after the snowstorm they set off early, and by the middle of the afternoon found themselves ten miles further on their journey in the direction of the post. It had been hard work to travel on the snowshoes, over a trail which was all but obliterated, and Pomeroy requested that they rest again.