“You are sure they made for the mountains?”
“Dey gwine to slam right ag’in’ ’em, den ride ober dem,” she declared.
So after all my warnings the Dales were foolhardy enough to ride into danger. Ericus Dale would not only stake his own life but even his daughter’s on his faith in red men. I recalled Cornstalk’s pretended friendship for the whites at Carr’s Creek and on Jackson’s River and the price the settlers paid for their trustfulness.
“When did they ride?”
“Two days ergo. Bright ’n’ early in de mornin’.”
I ran to my horse and mounted. As I yanked his head about the servant called after me:
“De missy have dem mogasums wif her.”
The first stage of my journey was to Dunlap’s Creek, although there was no certainty that the Dales and Ward were taking that route. I had small doubt, however, but that Dale was bound for the home of his cousin on Howard’s Creek. Unless he knew of some secret trace over the mountains he would follow the open trail.
He would be more likely to go boldly and openly, I reasoned, because of his belief there was nothing for him to fear. His daughter’s convenience would be better suited by the main traveled trails. As I hurried to the west I paused at every habitation and inquired for the travelers. Always the same reply; two men and a woman had been observed.
When I finally reached the Greenwood cabin at Dunlap’s Creek I learned I had gained a day because of Patricia’s need for rest. She was an odd bundle of contradictions. She felt superior to frontier women, and how they would have smiled at the thought of recuperating after the easy travel from Salem to the creek! Many of the women on the Greenbriar had walked the entire distance over the mountains so that the pack-animals might be used in carrying the jealously guarded and pitiably few household-goods.