did not take them long to skin both beasts and then the best of the deer meat was cut out by Barringford and rolled up in one of the pelts.
After this the march forward was again resumed.
That night they slept in the open, near a generous camp-fire, without being disturbed, and by sunrise were again on their way. They reached Cherry Run—a collection of half a dozen cabins—a little after noon, and here exchanged the skins and some of the meat for other things of more importance to them.
"There is a Dutch hunter here, who is going to join General Johnson," said the pioneer who gave them other things for their skins. "His name is Hans Schnitzer. Perhaps he'd like to go along with you—if you want him."
"What, old Dutch Hans, the beaver hunter!" exclaimed Barringford. "Why certainly I'd like him along. Thar's more fun in him nor in a barrel o' wasps. Whar is he?"
"He vos right here," came a voice from behind Barringford, and a short, stout individual stepped forward. His hair was red and his shock of a beard bore the same color. Above two sunburnt cheeks peeped two small eyes of blue, ever on a twinkle. He was dressed in the typical suit of the frontiers-
