There was one young member of the surveyors' party who apparently had not been long in the new world. He explained to Peleg, to whom he was drawn because they were nearly of the same age, that he had come to America to make a fortune. "I am the youngest son of Earl Russell. In England the younger boys do not have many opportunities, because all the property is left to the oldest son, so I have come to America, and hope to secure for myself some great tracts of land over here. They may not be valuable to-day or in the near future, but some time, as surely as the sun rises, they will be of great worth. You must come with me," he continued, "early to-morrow morning to Fontainebleau."
"Where?" demanded Peleg.
"Fontainebleau."
"Where is that, and what is it?" demanded the young scout.
"It is a name we have given to a spring about a mile from here on the opposite side of the river. Five or six of us go there every morning and drink the waters. We have an idea that they are better than the waters of the real Fontainebleau."
"Where is that?"
The young Englishman laughed as he said: "'Tis plain that you have never travelled in France."
"I never did," acknowledged Peleg. "I have travelled in the woods, though, and before we get back to the settlement some of you may be glad that Daniel Boone and I have had that experience."
The young Englishman again laughed, but made no reply.