Several days later they saw smoke ashore, and discovered a party of hunters in camp. They were a hardy lot, ready to fight Indians as cheerfully as they were willing to shoot deer or buffalo.
The flatboat was anchored as close to the shore as seemed wise, and Mr. Armstrong invited the others to come out and visit; but they said they had no boat. One of them Pat immediately recognized.
“Sure that looks like me ould frind, Jo Davies,” he remarked; and the man hearing what he said, called back:
“Just who it is, Pat O’Mara, and glad to see you again.”
Thereupon Pat became wild to take the boat and go ashore after the hunter who had more than once been in his company when on the trail, or a trapping expedition.
Of course, by this time Pat’s lame ankle had mended so that he could walk about as well as ever, though for perhaps a whole year he would have to favor the left foot a little, when he could.
He brought the four men out with him, and they spent a couple of hours aboard, asking for the latest news from the distant sea-coast.
In this far away country news travelled very slowly; yet evidently these pioneers understood the conditions existing between the Crown and the rebellious colonies; for their first question was whether there had been an open break as yet.
The moon had come and gone, so that there was no longer a chance to float down the river after nightfall, since it would be too dangerous in the darkness. Accordingly they determined to spend the night where they were, supper being cooked ashore, after the boat had been urged in by means of the stout poles.