“You arrived just in time,” said Joseph Morris, after bringing in the traps and caring for the horse. “This fall of snow is going to be a heavy one,” and so it proved. By noon of the next day the ground was covered to the depth of two feet, and none of the family ventured further than the stable and cow-shed. In those days heavy falls of snow in that vicinity were quite common while to-day they are rare,—why, nobody has ever been able to explain.
It was a happy family group that gathered around the wide fire-place that evening and listened to all Dave had to tell of his adventures while helping Washington. The bearskin was brought in and much admired by all, and Mrs. Morris was greatly pleased when Dave said he would give it to her for a rug or a coverlet, just as she preferred.
“It’s very kind of you, Dave,” she said, as she kissed him for the gift. “I shall prize it highly, for it will make the best coverlet I possess.” And in later years, when Washington became so well known, and the President of the United States, this bearskin was much thought of as an heirloom by all the Morris family, who would tell how the young surveyor and their Dave had brought down the animal by four well-directed shots.
From his uncle and the others Dave learned that White Buffalo had long since departed with the train of pack horses for the trading-post on the Kinotah.
“He must be there by this time,” said Joseph Morris.
“Did he say when he would be back?” questioned Dave.
“He said probably not until next spring. You see, the Indians had a fight among themselves, and some of White Buffalo’s relatives are missing, and he wishes to learn what has become of them. If the enemy slew them, White Buffalo said he and his tribe would probably go on the warpath.”
“If they do go on the warpath, I hope they don’t fight around here,” put in Henry Morris.
“No, the fighting will be further to the west,” answered Mr. Morris.
“You mean on the Kinotah, where father is?” asked Dave, quickly.