"They are alive, well and
hungry, not a mile from here. There is one man whom they would
be very glad to see, and his name is Cornelius Heemskerk, who is
roaming in our woods without a permit."
The round, ruddy face of the Dutchman glowed. It was obvious
that he felt as much delight in seeing Henry as Henry felt in
seeing him.
"My heart swells," he said. "I feared that you might have been
killed or scalped, or, at the best, have gone back to that far
land of Kentucky."
"We have wintered well," said Henry, "in a place of which I shall
not tell you now, and we are here to see the campaign through."
"I come, too, for the same purpose," said Heemskerk. "We shall be
together. It is goot." "Meanwhile," said Henry, "our camp
fire is lighted. Jim Hart, whom you have known of old, is
cooking strips of meat over the coals, and, although it is a mile
away, the odor of them is very pleasant in my nostrils. I wish
to go back there, and it will be all the more delightful to me,
and to those who wait, if I can bring with me such a welcome
guest."
"Lead on, mynheer," said Cornelius Heemskerk sententiously.
He received an equally emphatic welcome from the others, and then
they ate and talked.
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