“I think we’ll get some fighting before long,” said Dave to Henry, as the two marched away with Washington, through the woods and over the hills leading to Tanacharisson’s lodge. “By all reports the French must be close at hand.”
“Well, a fight would warm us up,” returned Henry. “I must say I am chilled to the backbone.”
It was small wonder that Henry was chilled, for it was night and raining heavily. Under the giant trees it was pitch dark and the party, moving in Indian file, had to feel the way from one step to the next. Every soldier was on guard, rifle in hand, and it must be admitted that the hearts of both Dave and Henry thumped wildly. For all they knew to the contrary they might be walking into the worst kind of an ambush. Washington remained calm, although constantly on the alert.
The march reached an end at daybreak, when they came within sight of the Indian camp. The half-king received Washington with much ceremony and promised his immediate aid.
“I will put Spotted Face and Rainbow upon the trail of the French,” said Tanacharisson. “They are more keen than dogs of the hunt. They will soon let us know the truth.”
He was as good as his word, and while the spies were gone the Indians treated the English with the best they possessed. All the half-king’s warriors were tall, straight, powerful fellows, with coarse black hair and eyes that were crafty and sharp. They were accustomed to firearms and could handle a rifle as well as their English allies.
When the two spies returned they reported that the French had gone into camp in a hollow not far away, a place surrounded by rough rocks and dense trees, and had put up a few cabins to protect them from the rain.
“If they put up the cabins they must mean to stay awhile,” said Washington.
“They cannot suspect you are at hand,” replied the half-king, “or they would not stop to put up such shelters.”
“Will you aid me in surprising them?” questioned the young commander.