“Why didn’t you work through the season?”
“Because I had received a letter from the smith saying that the half-breed would trap with me, and I knew I could trust that Indian.
“I gave forty-five dollars of my money to that woman for safe keeping (it was an awful risk, but I did it). I borrowed a mule and a pack-saddle of Mr. Nevins and put on him seventy-five steel traps, powder, lead and blankets, a few tools to make dead-falls (wooden traps) and other fixings, took old Frank, put a saddle and pillion on him and some light things, tied the mule’s bridle to Frank’s tail, put Bertie on the pillion, and started. The Indian had agreed to meet me at Turkey Foot.”
“What is Turkey Foot?”
“Don’t you remember that just after you left Somerset you crossed a creek with high banks?”
“Yes.”
“Not far from that the Yo. (Youghiogheny) splits into three forks. That is the middle one, and the place where they divide is called Turkey Foot, because it looks so much like one.
“You know what that boy is; keen as a brier and smart as steel. Wasn’t he tickled when he found he was going and where he was going; he hugged me, kissed me, and hardly knew which end he stood on.”
“That explains something that has puzzled me. When I got near the crossing I found an Indian path, and Frank was so determined to follow it that I had to strike him several times before he would give it up. I could not imagine what it meant, for I thought I knew he had never been there before.”
“When we reached Turkey Foot the Indian had been there a week, and had laid in a lot of provisions; he had the carcass of a deer hung up and had smoked and dried the best parts of several more, and had killed and dried a lot of wild pigeons.”