“A fine spot for a fort,” said Washington to James Morris, as the pair stood on the bank of the rivers, just at the fork. “The ground is high and firm and there is an abundance of timber with which to build. I shall recommend it.” This he did, but the French came in and erected Fort Duquesne. To-day, as stated before, the city of Pittsburgh, with its great iron and steel works, stands upon the spot. Thus has the wilderness, in less than a hundred and fifty years, been subdued.
At last the party, after stopping to interview Shingiss and other Indian sachems, arrived at Logtown, and two days later a grand conference was held with the sachems who had come in upon invitation. This was a most impressive sight, even to James Morris, who had seen “pow-wows,” as he termed them, before. Each Indian chief was dressed in his best and brightest robe and feathers, and all squatted around the camp-fire and the whites squatted with them. Before there was any talking the pipe of peace was lit and passed from one to another until it had gone around the circle and been returned to the oldest of the sachems. Then Washington arose and delivered his message, sent to them, as he said, by their white brother, the Governor of Virginia. At the conclusion he presented his “speech belt,” a string of wampums, always necessary when holding an important conference with the red men.
Washington’s manner of presenting his cause pleased the Indians and after due deliberation they stated that they had always considered the English their brothers and that they would return the “speech belts” given to them by the French. They further stated that Captain Joncaire had called the Indians together at Venango, nearly sixty miles away, by the trails. They would send three representatives with Washington, and they trusted that all would go well with their white brother on the trip.
On the way from Winchester, Washington’s party had been joined by John Frazier, already mentioned in these pages. Frazier was an English trader who had had a gunsmith shop in Venango, but had been driven from the town by the French. He now warned the young commander of the expedition to be on his guard.
“The French are not to be trusted,” he said. “Unless you are careful they will steal your papers from you and then call you a trader and make you a prisoner.”
“I shall be careful, never fear,” answered Washington.
Anxious to see the outcome of this appeal to the French, which might mean so much to him and his trading-post, James Morris accompanied the expedition to Venango. It was now bitterly cold and snows were frequent and at one spot they were snow-bound for nearly a day, and one of the backwoodsmen had his toes frostbitten. But at last, on the 4th of December, they reached the town, which was little more than a French and Indian settlement.
“The rascals, look at that!” exclaimed John Frazier, and pointed to the house in which he had had his shop. The French officers had made it their own and from the roof was hoisted the flag of France.
It was not long before Washington presented himself to Captain Joncaire, who proved to be as oily and smooth-tongued as Sam Barringford had described him. Yet Joncaire was a lover of good liquor and company and did his best to make them feel at home, in the meantime trying to “draw them out,” at every possible opportunity. Yet Washington soon gauged the fellow perfectly, and hearing that the French commander was at the next fort, tried to get away at once. But Joncaire would not listen and had the Indians brought in and treated, and kept this up so liberally that the poor red men at last forgot all they had come for and said nothing about returning the French “speech belts.”
“It’s a shame to let the French rascal get them in his clutches,” said James Morris.