long one, and we were but scantily armed and without provisions. The
hunter's rifle must be our sole dependence for food, and in the summer
heat we would be forced to kill daily. On the other hand, with horses, a
bag of corn apiece, firearms and ammunition, we should be in some more
hopeful case; and, notwithstanding the delay in starting, could make far
better speed.

For all the good it did I might have spared my pains and saved my
breath. Jennifer broke me in the midst, crying out that I was even now
killing the precious minutes; and so our ill-starred venture had its
launching in the frenzied haste that seldom makes for speed. One small
concession I wrung out of his impatience--this with the help of Yeates
and the Catawba. We went back to the breakfast camp, rekindled the fire,
and cooked what we could keep and carry of the venison.

In spite of this delay it was yet early in the forenoon of that
memorable Sunday, the twentieth of August, when we set our faces
southward and took up the line of march to the ford of the ambushment.
By now the sky was wholly overcast, and the wind was blowing fresher in
the tree-tops; but though as yet the storm held off, the air was the
cooler for the threatened rain and this was truly a blessing, since the
old hunter put us keen upon our mettle to keep pace with him.

We marched in Indian file, Ephraim Yeates in the lead, Uncanoola at his
heels, and the two of us heavier-footed ones bringing up the rear.
Knowing the wooded wilderness by length and breadth, the old man held on
through thick and thin, straight as an arrow to the mark; and so we had
never a sight of the road again till we came out upon it suddenly at the
ford of violence.