When on the evening of the fourth day from the Forks the Hunter trotted afoot down to the mouth of Will’s Creek he was very tired and the belt about his stomach was very small; for he had slept little and his meat and parched corn were gone. He had stopped only to rest, and not to hunt. But that which he now saw gladdened his eyes.
Around the Ohio Company’s log storehouse in the clearing along the Potomac where Will’s Creek entered there were a large number of tents, and many men were moving about. It looked as though he had met Washington.
He panted in among the tents. The soldiers and other men, most of them poorly dressed and doing nothing, stared at him or laughed as if they thought him only an Indian boy coming to beg. And then he espied somebody he knew.
It was the fat Captain Vanbraam, of Dutch Land, who had been left behind on the trail from Venango last winter.
“Ho,” cried Robert. “Vanbraam! See me.”
“What iss?” answered Jacob Vanbraam. “Oh! Eh? Yah! It is our Injun boy again. Where you come from now? You want me?”
“I want Washington. Where is Washington?”
“Yes; Washington, of coorse. He is not to be boddered. Eh? What? You tired? Hungry? Somebody chase you?”
“I bring words,” said Robert. “From Tanacharison. Where is Washington?”
“Oho!” quoth Jacob Vanbraam. “Den come along. I take you.”