Harper's Round Table, September 8, 1896

Some weeks were spent at Greenway Court, and George slipped back into the same life he had led for so long in the autumn. Instead, however, of reading in the evenings, Lord Fairfax and himself spent the time in studying rude maps of the region to be explored, and talking over the labors of the coming summer. The Earl told George that William Fairfax had heard of the proposed expedition, and was so anxious to go as George's assistant that his father was disposed to gratify him if it could be arranged.

"But I shall not communicate with him until I have talked with you, George," said the Earl; "for William, although a hardy youngster, and with some knowledge of surveying, is still but a lad, and there might be serious business in hand. However, this season's surveys are not to be far from here, so that if you care for his company I see no reason why he should not go."

"I should be very glad to have him," replied George, blushing a little. "I did a very unhandsome thing to William Fairfax while we were at Mount Vernon at Christmas, and he was so manful about it that I think more of him than ever, and I believe he would be an excellent helper."

"An unhandsome thing?" repeated the Earl, in a tone of inquiry.

"Knocked him sprawling, sir, in my brother's house. My brother was very much offended with me, and I was ashamed of myself."

"But you are good friends now?"

"Better than ever, sir, for William behaved as well as I behaved ill, and if he is willing to come with me I shall be glad to have him."

"I shall send an express, then, to Belvoir, and William will be here in a few days. And now I have something else to propose to you. My man Lance is very anxious to see the new country, although he has not directly asked my permission to go; but the poor fellow has served me so faithfully that I feel like indulging him. Only a lettered man, my dear George, can stand with cheerfulness this solitude month after month and year after year as I do, and although Lance is a man of great natural intelligence, he never read a book through in his life, so that his time is often heavy on his hands. I think a few months of mountaineering would be a godsend to him in his lonely life up here, and I make no doubt at all that you would be glad to have him with you."

"Glad, sir! I would be more glad than I can say. But what is to become of you without Lance?"

"I can get on tolerably well without him for a time," replied the Earl, smiling. And the unspoken thought in his mind was, "And I shall feel sure that there is a watchful and responsible person in company with the two youngsters I shall send out."

"And Billy, of course, will go with me," said George, meditatively. "Why, my lord, it will be a pleasure-jaunt."

"Get all the happiness you can out of it, George; I have no fear that you will neglect your work."

Within two weeks from that day William Fairfax had arrived and the party was ready to start. It was then the 1st of April, and not much field-work could be done until May. But Lord Fairfax found it impossible to hold in his young protégés. As for Lance, he was the most eager of the lot to get away. Cut off from association with his own class, nothing but his devotion to Lord Fairfax made the isolated life at Greenway Court endurable to him; and this prospect of variety in his routine, where, to a certain degree, he could resume his campaigning habits, was a fascinating change to him.

The Earl, with a smile and a sigh at the loss of George and William's cheerful company and Lance's faithful attendance, saw them set forth at sunrise on an April morning. George, mounted on the new half-bred horse that Lord Fairfax had given him, rode side by side with William Fairfax, who was equally well mounted. He carried the most precious of his surveying instruments, and two little books, closely printed, which the Earl had given him the night before. One was a miniature copy of Shakespeare's plays, and the other a small volume of Addison's works.

Behind them, on one of the stout cobs commonly used by the outriders on Lord Fairfax's journey to lower Virginia, rode Lance.

The old soldier was beaming with delight. He neither knew nor cared anything about surveying, but he was off for what he called a campaign, in company with two youths full of life and fire, and it made him feel like a colt. He had charge of the commissary, and a led-horse was loaded with the tent, the blankets, and such provisions as they could carry, although they expected their guns and fishing-rods to supply their appetites. Behind them all rode Billy on an old cart-horse. Billy was very miserable. He had no taste for campaigning, and preferred the fare of a well-stocked kitchen to such as one could get out of woods and streams. George had been so disgusted with Billy's want of enterprise and devotion to the kitchen rations that he had sternly threatened to leave the boy behind, at which Billy had howled vociferously, and had got George's promise not to leave him. Nevertheless, a domestic life suited Billy much better than an adventurous one.

What a merry party they were when they set off! Lord Fairfax stood on the porch watching them as long as they were in sight, and when, on reaching a little knoll, both boys turned and waved their hats at him, he felt a very lonely old man, and went sadly into the quiet house.

The party travelled on over fairly good mountain roads all that day, and at night made their first camp. They were within striking distance of a good tavern, but it was not in boy nature to seek comfort and civilization when camping out was possible.

George realized the treasure he had in Lance when, in an inconceivably short time, the tent was set up and supper was being prepared. The horses were taken care of by George and William, who got from a lonely settler's clearing a feed of corn for them. Meanwhile, with a kettle, a pan, and a gridiron, Lance had prepared a supper fit for a king, so the hungry boys declared. Billy had actually been made to go to work, and to move when he was spoken to. The first thing he was told to do by Lance was to make a fire. Billy was about to take his time to consider the proposition, when Lance, who was used to military obedience, instantly drew a ramrod from one of the guns, and gave Billy a smart thwack across his knuckles with it. Billy swelled with wrath. Lance he esteemed to be a "po' white," and, as such, by no means authorized to make him stir.

"Look a-heah, man," said Billy, loftily, "you 'ain' got no business a-hittin' Marse George's nigger."

"I haven't, eh?" was Lance's rejoinder, giving Billy another whack, "Do you make that fire, you rapscallion, or you get no supper. And make it quick, d'ye hear? Oh, I wish I had had you in the Low Countries, under my old drill-sergeant! You would have got what Paddy gave the drum!"

Billy, thus admonished, concluded it would be better to mind, and although he felt sure that "Marse George" would give him his supper, yet he was not at present in high favor with that young gentleman, and did not want to take any risks in the matter. However, he did not really exert himself, until Lance said, severely: "I have a great mind to ask Mr. Washington to send you back to Greenway Court. It is not too far."

At that Billy suddenly became very industrious. Now George, on the other side of the tent currying his horse, heard the whole affair, and when they were called to supper he threw out a hint that his servitor might be sent back, which threat then and forever after acted on Billy like a galvanic battery.

George and William thought, as they sat by the fire in the woods eating their rude but palatable supper, that they were the luckiest creatures in the world. They were exhilarated rather than fatigued by their day's work. A roaring fire cast a red glare among the rocks and trees, and warmed the keen cold air of the spring night in the mountains. Within their tent were piles of cedar boughs for beds, and blankets to cover them.

William Fairfax had never heard any of Lance's interesting stories, although George had told him of them. When supper was over, and the boys had an hour before turning in, George induced Lance to tell of some of his adventures in the wars of the Spanish Succession. They were deeply interesting, for Lance was a daring character, and had seen many strange vicissitudes. Billy and Rattler, who were not very much interested in the proceedings, dropped asleep early, and George, throwing a blanket over Billy, let him lie and snore before the fire until it was time to take to the tent. After a while Lance said:

"It was the Duke of Marlborough's way to have all the lights out early; and I think, Mr. Washington, if we want to make an early start, we had better turn in now."

George and William, nothing loath, betook themselves to their beds of boughs within the tent. Lance preferred to lie just in the doorway, the flap being left up for air. The boys noticed that he very carefully took off his shoes and washed his feet in a pail of ice-cold water brought from a spring near by.

"Why do you do that, Lance?" asked George, who thought it rather severe treatment.

"Because that's the way to keep your feet in order, sir, and to keep from taking cold in a campaign; and I recommend you and Mr. Fairfax to try it for a regular thing," answered Lance.

Within two days they reached the point where they must leave their horses and really begin their work. They struck now into a wilderness, full of the most sublime scenery, and with a purity of air and a wild beauty of its own that would appeal to the most sluggish imagination. George had found William Fairfax to be a first-rate camping companion, and he proved to be an equally good assistant in surveying. George was not only an accurate but a very rapid surveyor, and William was equal to every demand made upon him. Although they carried their guns along when at work, they shot but little game, leaving that to Lance, and the trapping of birds and small animals to Billy, who was always willing to forage for his dinner. They met a few Indians occasionally. Many of the Indians had never seen surveying instruments, and thought them to be something miraculous.

Lance was a genius in the way of making a camp comfortable. Although all of his experiences had been under entirely different circumstances, in an old and settled country with a flat surface, he was practical enough to transmute his knowledge to suit other conditions. He made no pretence of assisting in the field-work, but when George and William would come back to camp in the evenings, after a long day's tramp on the mountains, Lance would always be ready with a good supper, a bed of pine or cedar branches, and an endless store of tales of life in other days and other places. In the absence of books, except the two volumes given George by Lord Fairfax, these story-tellings became a great resource to the two young fellows, and were established as a regular thing. Although Lance had been only a private soldier, and was not an educated man, he had natural military talents, and when they would talk about possibilities of war with the French upon the frontier, which was then looked upon as inevitable, Lance clearly foresaw what actually happened years afterwards. The military instinct was always active in George, and it developed marvellously. For recreation he and Lance devised many campaigns against the French and Indians, and proved, on paper at least, how easy it would be to capture every French fort and block-house from the Alleghanies to the Great Lakes. George had a provincial's enthusiastic confidence in regular troops, and was amazed to find Lance insisting that their usefulness in a campaign in the wilderness was doubtful.