With Washington in the west;

“Oh, how stiff I feel!”

It was Dave who uttered the exclamation, as he arose on the morning following. The storm had cleared away, and the sun was coming up brightly over the mountain top. The birds were singing gaily as if they knew no care. Here and there the raindrops glistened like so many diamonds.

Dave had slept longer than either of the others and he found breakfast, including a hot pot of coffee, awaiting him. His uncle told him he had better drink all of the coffee to warm up, and this he did. The air was bracing and he was glad enough to sit with his back close to the fire, to dry out the remaining moisture in his clothing.

“It’s too bad you missed the redskins,” said Crosby, when he had heard their story. “It ain’t likely you’ll see ’em again, now.”

“I shall keep my eyes open,” answered Dave. “And I shan’t forget how Fanny looks, I’ll promise you that.”

Breakfast was soon over, and then came the task of re-dividing the loads brought along. At the start neither Dave’s steed nor that ridden by Mr. Morris had carried aught but its rider, now every horse had to carry a little more than formerly and one had to take Dave in addition.

“I’ll walk when we come to an extra hard bit of the trail,” said the youth. “I don’t like to crowd a horse too much.”

Soon the party was on its way toward the Shenandoah. The storm had left the sky a clear blue and the sun came out with an unexpected warmth which was just then highly welcome to the Morrises, although Crosby grumbled a little at the heat.

Because of the loads, the progress was slow, and in the middle of the forenoon they halted by the side of a mountain stream, and while the others rested Crosby went fishing and hooked several trout which promised a fine meal for dinner. Then on they went once more, and did not rest again until the bank of the swiftly flowing Shenandoah was gained.

Dinner was at its height when Joseph Morris, chancing to look down the river, saw a man approach with a tripod over his shoulder.

“Here comes Mr. Washington,” he said. “I suppose he is still surveying around here.”

Soon the young surveyor was within hailing distance and Mr. Morris called out a cheery good-day. Washington returned the salutation, and coming closer recognized Crosby as a man he had met in Annapolis half a dozen times.

“Thank you, but I have had my dinner,” he said, in answer to their invitation to share in the repast. However, he sat down on a nearby rock to talk.

“And how goes the surveying?” asked Joseph Morris.

“Very well, up to yesterday,” was the reply.

“Why, the storm did not come up until night,” put in Aaron Crosby.

“It wasn’t the storm hindered me. I have lost my assistant and cannot get along very well alone.”

“Lost your assistant?” queried Joseph Morris. “What happened to him? He wasn’t hurt, was he?”

“No. Early in the morning a negro came to tell him that his father was sick and not expected to live, and that he must come home at once. Under the circumstances there was nothing to do but to let him go, even though he had engaged with me for six weeks longer. This has left me alone and I must confess I hardly know how to manage.”

“It’s too bad,” said Mr. Morris. “Cannot you find another assistant somewhere around here?”

“I do not know of anybody. I was up at Denton’s and over to Moran’s but neither of those settlers could help me out. I was almost certain I could get Moran’s son, but he has gone off on a hunt, and there is no telling when he will be back.”

“Why not give me a chance, Mr. Washington?” cried Dave, impulsively. “I would like to help you very much.”

At this enthusiastic outburst the surveyor smiled. “I was thinking you might offer yourself the moment I saw you,” he said. “You see, I haven’t forgotten what you said the other day, when I was showing you my instruments.”

“I will work with you if my uncle will let me stay,” went on Dave, readily. “In fact I would like nothing better. I’ve thought of it half a dozen times since I’ve been to Annapolis.”

“As I said before, it is no easy task, David, and one must be careful or run the risk of imperiling one’s life.”

“I would be careful. Uncle Joe knows I am a good climber—isn’t that so, Uncle Joe?”

“Yes, Dave can climb well enough,” answered the uncle. He hesitated a moment. “This is news to me and I scarcely know what to say, Mr. Washington. Do you think the lad could do the work you wish of him?”

“I think so—after I have given him a few lessons. To be sure I should prefer an experienced hand, but he looks as if he might learn quickly.”

“I’ll do my best,” put in Dave, and then he added: “What does the work pay? Or perhaps you’d like to find out what I am worth first.”

“I gave my other helper six shillings a day and his board, and also a horse when the animal was needed,” answered Washington. “I will give you the same if you do the work properly.”

“I’ll take you up—if Uncle Joe will let me,” answered Dave, quickly. It was the first chance he had ever had of earning money away from home.

“You wish the lad for six weeks,” questioned Joseph Morris.

“Yes, if he proves willing and obliging, and he looks as if he would.”

“Then I don’t know but that you might try it, Dave. That will give our horses one less to carry, and you could stay at Denton’s until you fell in with some other folks coming out our way, if you didn’t want to come on alone.”

“I wouldn’t be afraid to come on alone, if I had a horse and my rifle.”

“It would be better to wait, for the snow might waylay you,” put in Aaron Crosby.

The matter was discussed for over an hour and Joseph Morris asked many questions concerning what Dave would be called on to do. “You see, his father is out west and I have him in my care,” he explained. “I want nothing to happen to him while he and his father are separated.”

The surveyor’s camp was close by, along with his horse, and he said he had two other steeds at Denton’s, two miles away, where he had left some of his traps. At Denton’s he had some extra clothing and said he would lend Dave a greatcoat, should the weather get much colder. So it was arranged that the youth should become Washington’s assistant, starting that very afternoon.

“Take good care of yourself,” were Joseph Morris’ words on parting. “And remember, we’ll look for you back at the end of the six weeks,” and so nephew and uncle parted, and soon Mr. Morris and Aaron Crosby were out of sight on the trail leading north-westward.

Dave found that the surveyor’s outfit was not a large one. There were several wooden affairs called crosses, having fine grooves at the top running at right angles to each other, several measuring chains, a bundle of stakes and tall, thin poles painted white at the top, and a good field glass, with measure and angle. There was also a portfolio of drawing paper, with some drawings and with a mass of measuring tables in the back, and compasses and pencils.

“Not so very many things,” was the lad’s comment.

“And yet we could measure our way around the world with them if we wished,” returned the surveyor. And then, while they took up the traps and moved, with the horse, towards the cabin owned by Christopher Denton he explained how ordinary land surveying was very simple in theory if not in practice.

“The whole basis of ground surveying is the triangle,” said Washington. “No matter what the shape of the property to be surveyed is it must first be divided up into triangles, or a triangle must be built up over it.”

“But why a triangle?” asked Dave.

“Because a triangle is both safe and easy to measure. You will understand this when we get to work.”

“But how can you survey over a big hill or a mountain?”

Washington smiled. “What do you do if you want to get to the other side of the mountain?”

“Climb over it or go around?”

“And that is what the surveyor must do—measure over it, or measure around it. Where the land is very uneven the best of surveyors sometimes have to make a guess at allowances—but that is rare. Of course in such a wild territory as this to split hairs would be impossible, yet I try to be as accurate as circumstances permit.”

“Yes, I would want to be accurate, if I was a surveyor,” answered Dave.

As they pushed along the Shenandoah, Washington pointed out several parcels of land which he had surveyed in days gone by. “It will not be many years before this land will all be settled,” he said. “Towns will spring up where there are now nothing but forests.”

Christopher Denton’s cabin was reached in the course of an hour, and here Dave was provided with an extra coat and a good horse. Washington wished to survey a tract of land six miles up the stream, and they took with them all the camping outfit, for they did not expect to return to Denton’s for several days or a week.

“How is it, can you prepare a meal?” asked the surveyor. “I did not think to ask before.”

“I’ve prepared many a one for my uncle and my cousins,” answered Dave. “I don’t know how my cooking will suit you.”

“I doubt if you can do worse than my other assistant,” laughed Washington. “He burnt more than half of what was placed over the fire.”

“I can do better than that I am sure.”

“Then we ought to get along.”

Soon they were again on the road, but now both on horseback. The surveyor knew the territory well and set such a brisk pace that Dave had to push hard to keep up to him.

“You are a splendid rider,” the boy ventured. “I never saw anybody keep his saddle so well.”

The praise appeared to please Washington. “Yes, I always loved riding,” he made answer. “I used to climb in the saddle when I was five years old. Once we had a fiery colt at home that nobody could manage. I got on his back and rode him.”

“You did!”

“Yes, but it was a costly ride, for the colt got scared and plunged so madly that he burst a blood vessel, and right after the ride he died. After that I let the other colts alone,” concluded Washington.