his baggage, and a quantity of provisions, but secretly tried to persuade Tanacharisson not to return with him. But in this he failed. Tanacharisson went back with Washington in the canoes, which were rowed down French Creek. The horses followed by land. And that was the last they saw of the old Chevalier de St. Pierre.

II.

The boating expedition down French Creek was a difficult affair. It was full of floating ice, and several times the canoes were nearly staved to pieces. Now and then the men were obliged to jump into the water and drag them over shallows; and once they found that a bend in the river was so full of broken ice that they were compelled to take the canoes on their backs, and carry them a quarter of a mile before they could find open water again. At last they reached Venango, where they parted with Tanacharisson and the rest of the Indians, and Washington determined to push on, on foot, for Virginia.

He was induced to do this by the terrible condition of the roads. They were now almost impassable. The water and snow in them had frozen, and at every step the horses broke through and stumbled, and more than once fell beneath their riders. It was plain, therefore, to Washington that he would never reach Virginia if he depended upon the horses to carry him there; so he and his friend Gist strapped knapsacks on their backs to carry their provisions and papers, took their rifles, buttoned up their overcoats, and pushed into the woods, leaving the rest of the men, with the horses, to come on in the best manner they could.

The long and dangerous march of Washington and his single companion then began. The obstacles before them were enough to dishearten them. It was the depth of

winter, and the weather was freezing. They were in the heart of the wilderness, which was covered with snow, and could only guess at their way; and, what was worse than all, they were surrounded by hostile Indians, the friends of the French. Perhaps in all Washington's long life he was exposed to no peril greater than on this occasion. It seemed very doubtful indeed whether he and Gist would ever return alive to Virginia.

But they pushed forward fearlessly, and Providence watched over them. They ate, when they were hungry, some of the provisions carried in their knapsacks, and at night slept by a fire in the woods. All day long the steady tramp continued through the desolate woods, and at last they reached a place bearing the gloomy name of Murdering Town, where they came upon a band of Indians. As soon as he saw these Indians, Gist, who was an old woodsman, began to suspect them. He did not like their looks, and their side glances excited his suspi-. cion. He therefore strongly advised Washington not to stop, but to push on; and as one of the Indians offered himself as a guide, his offer was accepted, and he accompanied them.

It soon became evident that Gist was right in his suspicions. The first thing the Indian guide did was to offer to carry Washington's gun. This he was far too wise to consent to, and refused, which made the Indian sulky. He had evidently hoped to induce Washington to give up his gun, and his next attempt was to get the two men in his power. Night was coming, and they looked about for a place to build a camp-fire; but the Indian advised them against this. There were some Ottawa Indians in the woods, he said, who would certainly come upon them and murder them; but his own cabin was near, and if they would go with him they would be safe.

This was very suspicious, and they resolved to be on their guard. The good-sense of this was soon seen. They refused the Indian's offer, and went on looking for water, near which they meant to encamp. The Indian guide was walking ten or twenty yards in front of them, when, just as they came to an open space where the glare of the snow lit up the darkness, the Indian turned and levelled his gun at Washington and fired. The bullet did not strike him, and the Indian darted behind a tree. But Washington rushed upon him and seized him before he could escape.

Gist came up at once, and was eager to put the guide to death. But for some reason Washington would not consent to this. He took the Indian's gun away from him, and soon afterward they reached a small stream, where they made the guide build them a fire to camp by for the night. Gist was now very uneasy. He knew the Indians much better than Washington did, and told him that if he would not put the guide to death they must get away from him. This was agreed to, and the Indian was told he could go to his cabin, if he chose, for the night. As to themselves, they would camp in the woods, and join him there in the morning, which they could easily do by following his tracks in the snow.

The guide was glad to get away, and was soon out of sight. Gist followed him cautiously, listening to his footsteps breaking the dry twigs in the woods. As soon as he was sure that the Indian was gone, he came back to Washington and told him that if he valued his life he had better get away from this spot, as he was certain that the guide meant to bring other Indians to murder them; so they again set forward through the woods.

When they had gone about half a mile they kindled another fire, but did not lie down to sleep. The fire was only to deceive the Indians. Instead of going to sleep,

Washington and Gist set out again, and travelled all that night and the next day without stopping. They knew that their lives depended on getting away quickly from that dangerous country. And at last they reached the banks of the Alleghany, a little above the present city of Pittsburg.

III.

They had expected to cross to the eastern bank of the Alleghany on the ice, but this they now found was impossible. Instead of presenting a level floor of ice from bank to bank, the river was only frozen about fifty yards from each shore, and the channel in the middle was open and full of drifting ice. It came down in large masses, and there was no possibility of crossing; so the two travellers lay down for the night, to consider what they would do in the morning.

There seemed no hope of crossing except by means of a raft, that is, by binding logs together in some manner, and floating over upon them. This they resolved to attempt. As soon as daylight came they began the work. Gist probably had a hatchet with him, as woodmen generally carried one, and trees were cut down and tied together with grape-vines. This rough raft was then dragged to the edge of the ice, and the two men got upon it and pushed it into the water. This was done by means of long poles, which they had cut for the purpose; and soon the raft was driving on into the midst of the broken ice.

Their situation soon became dangerous. The current was strong, and in spite of all they could do to force the raft across, the ice swept it down, and they could not reach the shore. Every exertion was made to steady it, and in attempting to do so Washington met with a very dangerous accident. He was leaning on his long pole, resting on the bottom of the river, which was about ten

feet deep, when the ice crashed against it, and he was thrown into the water. Few things are more perilous than this. The water was freezing cold, and he no doubt had on his heavy overcoat, and this clogged his movements and threatened to sink him with its weight. And here let me stop a moment to give you some advice which may save your life some day. Never ford a deep stream

on horseback or otherwise with an overcoat on. First take it off, with your arms, if you carry any; then you may swim out if an accident happens. If you do not, you will probably be drowned.

Fortunately Washington succeeded in getting back on the raft, in which Gist no doubt assisted him. They were then swept along, and gave up all attempts to reach the