He said that he would forward the letter to the French governor; but as
for the Ohio Country, he had been ordered to hold it, and he meant to do
so.

Of course Washington could do nothing further. But it was plain to him
that the news ought to be carried back to Virginia without delay.

It was now mid-winter. As no horse could travel through the trackless
woods at this time of year, he must make his way on foot.

So, with only the woodsman, Gist, he shouldered his rifle and knapsack,
and bravely started home.

It was a terrible journey. The ground was covered with snow; the rivers
were frozen; there was not even a path through the forest. If Gist had
not been so fine a woodsman they would hardly have seen Virginia again.

Once an Indian shot at Washington from behind a tree. Once the brave
young man fell into a river, among floating ice, and would have been
drowned but for Gist.

At last they reached the house of a trader on the Monongahela River.
There they were kindly welcomed, and urged to stay until the weather
should grow milder.

But Washington would not delay.

Sixteen days after that, he was back in Virginia, telling the governor
all about his adventures, and giving his opinion about the best way to