“At least thou must refresh thyself before starting,” said the Governor’s wife cordially, and she set about getting dinner at once.

While his father went with the Governor to make arrangements for the journey, Daniel and his cousins took charge of Zeb.  With Mistress Bradford’s permission they built a fire on the shore and cooked dinner there for themselves and the black boy, who was more of a show to them than a whole circus with six clowns would be to us.  As he watched the boys lay the sticks and start the blaze, Zeb’s eyes rolled more wildly than ever.  No doubt he thought that he himself was to be roasted over the coals, and when at last he saw William lay a big fish on the fire instead, his relief was so great that for the first time he showed a row of gleaming teeth in a hopeful grin.  Daniel brought him a huge piece of it when the fish was cooked, and from that moment Zeb regarded him as his friend.

It was early afternoon before all the preparations were completed and the little caravan was ready to start on its perilous journey.  There were two horses, and John Howland, who knew the trail well and was wise in woodcraft, was to go with them as far as Marshfield, where he knew of a horse that was for sale.  Half the town gathered to see them off.  John Howland mounted first, and Daniel was placed on the pillion behind him.  Then Zeb was made to get up behind the Goodman, and off they started, followed by a volley of farewells and messages from the group of Plymouth friends left behind.

For a little distance they followed the shore-line, then, plunging into the woods, they were soon lost to view.  The road was a mere blazed trail through dense forests, and it was necessary to keep a sharp lookout lest they lose their way and also because no traveler was for a moment safe from possible attack by Indians.  Hour after hour they plodded patiently along, sometimes dismounting and walking for a mile or so to stretch their legs and rest the horses.  There was little chance for talk, because the path was too narrow for them to go side by side.  The day was warm, and if it had not been for slapping the mosquitoes which buzzed about them in swarms, Daniel would have fallen asleep sitting in the saddle.  In the late afternoon, as they came out upon an open moor, Daniel was roused by hearing a suppressed exclamation from John Howland and felt him reach for the pistol which hung from his belt.  His horse pricked up his ears and whinnied, and the horse on which the Goodman and Zeb were riding answered with a loud neigh.  Daniel peered over John Howland’s broad shoulder just in time to see a large deer disappearing into a thicket of young birches some distance ahead of them.

“Oh!” cried Daniel, pounding on John Howland’s ribs in his excitement, “let ’s get him!”

“Not so fast, not so fast,” said John in a low voice, pinning with his elbow the hand that was battering his side.  “Let be!  Thou hast seen but half.  There was an Indian on the track of that deer.  Should we step in and take his quarry, he might be minded to empty his gun into us instead!  I saw him standing nigh the spot where the trail enters the wood again yonder, and when he saw us he slipped like a shadow into the underbrush.”