The month of February was the most severe of the whole winter, and again they were snowed in and could not get out for a week. But after that it thawed rapidly and the only danger was that the river and the brook would overflow their banks and sweep the trading-post away. The overflow did come, ten days later, but the only damage done was to the stockade, and this was easily repaired.
During the cold weather some of the men around the post had cleared a patch of ground lying up the creek, and as soon as weather permitted, James Morris set Dave to work to plant the spot with garden vegetables and corn. Some of the tree stumps were burned out, but others were left standing, and plowing, consequently, was not easy. But Dave stuck to his task like a man, and soon the patch was growing nicely.
Thus the spring and summer passed and Dave was always kept busy, if not at one thing then at another. But he loved the forest, and his rifle, and went out with Barringford or Putty at every opportunity. The constant use of the firearm made him an expert marksman, and in a trial at skill one afternoon between everybody at the place, he came off fourth best, which was certainly more than good when it is remembered that he had so many older shots against him.
Late in the summer one of the trappers announced his intention of leaving the neighborhood and paying a visit to Georgetown, where he had a sister and an aged mother living. At this time James Morris was anxious to see his brother about making improvements at the post and investing additional capital in the trading business. He accordingly consulted with Dave and Barringford, and the upshot of the talk was that he concluded to go eastward with the trapper, leaving Dave and the old hunter in charge during his absence.
For the eastward expedition James Morris called in several of the Indians belonging to White Buffalo’s tribe, the chief himself being off on a grand hunt, and when he started he took with him eight horses loaded down with pelts of all sorts, which were worth a good many hundreds of dollars.
“Don’t try to do anything out of the ordinary while I am gone,” he said, on parting with Dave and Barringford. “Treat the friendly Indians well and beware of any Indians or trappers Bevoir sends up. If the French try to dictate to you, tell them they must wait until I return.”
For the first few days after his parent was gone, the trading-post seemed lonely to Dave. He felt a responsibility which was new to him, and he often consulted with Barringford. “We mustn’t make any false moves,” he said. “If the Indians or the French are up to any tricks they’ll surely try them on while father is absent.”
“Wall, Dave, don’t git alarmed,” answered the old hunter. “I know the crowd putty well, and I allow they know me and they know I won’t stand any nonsense. Jest be careful, and we’ll pull through in fine feather.”
For a week nothing out of the ordinary happened. Barringford went out hunting every day, but Dave remained around the post and always kept one or more of the men with him. He did some trading, and when the Indians visited him treated them kindly.
One day a Shunrum warrior came in to dispose of several skins, and after the deal was over, and Dave had made him a present of some trinkets in addition, the warrior called him aside.