Captain Vanbraam commanded the first company. In one of the baggage-wagons sat a familiar figure. It was Billy—not left behind this time, but taken as George's body-servant.
On the 20th Will's Creek was reached. A small party of men under Captain Trench had been sent forward by the Governor to the Ohio River, with orders to build a fort at what is now Pittsburg, and there await Colonel Washington. But while the Virginia troops were marching through the forest, before sighting the creek, an officer on a horse was seen approaching. He rode up to George, and, saluting, said:
"I am Ensign Ward, sir, of Captain Trench's company."
"From the fort at the meeting of the Alleghany and Monongahela?" asked George.
"Ah, sir," cried the young officer, with tears in his eyes, "the fort is no longer ours. A French force, consisting of nearly a thousand men, appeared while we were at work on it, and opened fire on us. We were but forty-one, and we were forced to hoist the white flag without firing a shot."
This was indeed dreadful news. It showed that the French were fully alive to the situation, if not beforehand, with the English. Even a small detachment of the French force could cut off and destroy this little band of four companies. George's mind was hard at work while young Ward gave the details of the surrender. His only comment was:
"We must push on to a point I have marked on the Monongahela, and there build the fort, instead of at the junction of the rivers."
After passing Will's Creek they were in the heart of the wilderness. The transportation of the guns, ammunition, and baggage was so difficult, owing to the wildness of the country, that they were fourteen days in making fourteen miles. But the men, animated by their commander, toiled uncomplainingly at work most distasteful to soldiers—cutting down trees, making bridges, and dragging the guns over rocks when wheels could not turn. Even Billy worked for the first time in his life. One night, after three weeks of this labor, an Indian stalked up to the camp and demanded to see the commander. George happened to be passing on his nightly round of inspection, and in a moment recognized his old friend Tanacharison. "Welcome!" cried the chief in the Indian tongue, and calling George by his Indian name of "Young White Warrior."
"Welcome to you," answered George, more than pleased to see his ally.
"This is no time for much talk," said the Indian. "Fifty French soldiers with Captain Jumonville are concealed in a glen six miles away. They are spies for the main body—for the French have three men to your one—and if they find you here you will be cut to pieces. But if you can catch the French spies, the main body will not know where you are; and," he added, with a crafty smile, "if they should meet Tanacharison, he will send them a hundred miles in the wrong direction."