Page 8 of Betty Zane


  CHAPTER VII.

  The chilling rains of November and December's flurry of snow hadpassed and mid-winter with its icy blasts had set in. The BlackForest had changed autumn's gay crimson and yellow to the somber hueof winter and now looked indescribably dreary. An ice gorge hadformed in the bend of the river at the head of the island and frombank to bank logs, driftwood, broken ice and giant floes were packedand jammed so tightly as to resist the action of the mighty current.This natural bridge would remain solid until spring had loosened thefrozen grip of old winter. The hills surrounding Fort Henry werewhite with snow. The huge drifts were on a level with Col. Zane'sfence and in some places the top rail had disappeared. The pinetrees in the yard were weighted down and drooped helplessly withtheir white burden.

  On this frosty January morning the only signs of life round thesettlement were a man and a dog walking up Wheeling hill. The mancarried a rifle, an axe, and several steel traps. His snow-shoessank into the drifts as he labored up the steep hill. All at once hestopped. The big black dog had put his nose high in the air and hadsniffed at the cold wind.

  "Well, Tige, old fellow, what is it?" said Jonathan Zane, for thiswas he.

  The dog answered with a low whine. Jonathan looked up and down thecreek valley and along the hillside, but he saw no living thing.Snow, snow everywhere, its white monotony relieved here and there bya black tree trunk. Tige sniffed again and then growled. Turning hisear to the breeze Jonathan heard faint yelps from far over thehilltop. He dropped his axe and the traps and ran the remainingshort distance up the hill. When he reached the summit the clearbaying of hunting wolves was borne to his ears.

  The hill sloped gradually on the other side, ending in a white,unbroken plain which extended to the edge of the laurel thicket aquarter of a mile distant. Jonathan could not see the wolves, but heheard distinctly their peculiar, broken howls. They were in pursuitof something, whether quadruped or man he could not decide. Anothermoment and he was no longer in doubt, for a deer dashed out of thethicket. Jonathan saw that it was a buck and that he was well nighexhausted; his head swung low from side to side; he sank slowly tohis knees, and showed every indication of distress.

  The next instant the baying of the wolves, which had ceased for amoment, sounded close at hand. The buck staggered to his feet; heturned this way and that. When he saw the man and the dog he startedtoward them without a moment's hesitation.

  At a warning word from Jonathan the dog sank on the snow. Jonathanstepped behind a tree, which, however, was not large enough toscreen his body. He thought the buck would pass close by him and hedetermined to shoot at the most favorable moment.

  The buck, however, showed no intention of passing by; in his abjectterror he saw in the man and the dog foes less terrible than thosewhich were yelping on his trail. He came on in a lame uneven trot,making straight for the tree. When he reached the tree he crouched,or rather fell, on the ground within a yard of Jonathan and his dog.He quivered and twitched; his nostrils flared; at every pant dropsof blood flecked the snow; his great dark eyes had a strained andawful look, almost human in its agony.

  Another yelp from the thicket and Jonathan looked up in time to seefive timber wolves, gaunt, hungry looking beasts, burst from thebushes. With their noses close to the snow they followed the trail.When they came to the spot where the deer had fallen a chorus ofangry, thirsty howls filled the air.

  "Well, if this doesn't beat me! I thought I knew a little aboutdeer," said Jonathan. "Tige, we will save this buck from those graydevils if it costs a leg. Steady now, old fellow, wait."

  When the wolves were within fifty yards of the tree and comingswiftly Jonathan threw his rifle forward and yelled with all thepower of his strong lungs:

  "Hi! Hi! Hi! Take 'em, Tige!"

  In trying to stop quickly on the slippery snowcrust the wolves fellall over themselves. One dropped dead and another fell wounded atthe report of Jonathan's rifle. The others turned tail and lopedswiftly off into the thicket. Tige made short work of the woundedone.

  "Old White Tail, if you were the last buck in the valley, I wouldnot harm you," said Jonathan, looking at the panting deer. "You needhave no farther fear of that pack of cowards."

  So saying Jonathan called to Tige and wended his way down the hilltoward the settlement.

  An hour afterward he was sitting in Col. Zane's comfortable cabin,where all was warmth and cheerfulness. Blazing hickory logs roaredand crackled in the stone fireplace.

  "Hello, Jack, where did you come from?" said Col. Zane, who had justcome in. "Haven't seen you since we were snowed up. Come over to seeabout the horses? If I were you I would not undertake that trip toFort Pitt until the weather breaks. You could go in the sled, ofcourse, but if you care anything for my advice you will stay home.This weather will hold on for some time. Let Lord Dunmore wait."

  "I guess we are in for some stiff weather."

  "Haven't a doubt of it. I told Bessie last fall we might expect ahard winter. Everything indicated it. Look at the thick corn-husks.The hulls of the nuts from the shell-bark here in the yard werelarger and tougher than I ever saw them. Last October Tige killed araccoon that had the wooliest kind of a fur. I could have given youa dozen signs of a hard winter. We shall still have a month or sixweeks of it. In a week will be ground-hog day and you had betterwait and decide after that."

  "I tell you, Eb, I get tired chopping wood and hanging round thehouse."

  "Aha! another moody spell," said Col. Zane, glancing kindly at hisbrother. "Jack, if you were married you would outgrow those'blue-devils.' I used to have them. It runs in the family to bemoody. I have known our father to take his gun and go into the woodsand stay there until he had fought out the spell. I have done thatmyself, but once I married Bessie I have had no return of the oldfeeling. Get married, Jack, and then you will settle down and work.You will not have time to roam around alone in the woods."

  "I prefer the spells, as you call them, any day," answered Jonathan,with a short laugh. "A man with my disposition has no right to getmarried. This weather is trying, for it keeps me indoors. I cannothunt because we do not need the meat. And even if I did want to huntI should not have to go out of sight of the fort. There were threedeer in front of the barn this morning. They were nearly starved.They ran off a little at sight of me, but in a few moments came backfor the hay I pitched out of the loft. This afternoon Tige and Isaved a big buck from a pack of wolves. The buck came right up tome. I could have touched him. This storm is sending the deer downfrom the hills."

  "You are right. It is too bad. Severe weather like this will killmore deer than an army could. Have you been doing anything with yourtraps?"

  "Yes, I have thirty traps out."

  "If you are going, tell Sam to fetch down another load of fodderbefore he unhitches."

  "Eb, I have no patience with your brothers," said Col. Zane's wifeto him after he had closed the door. "They are all alike; foreverwanting to be on the go. If it isn't Indians it is something else.The very idea of going up the river in this weather. If Jonathandoesn't care for himself he should think of the horses."

  "My dear, I was just as wild and discontented as Jack before I metyou," remarked Col. Zane. "You may not think so, but a home andpretty little woman will do wonders for any man. My brothers havenothing to keep them steady."

  "Perhaps. I do not believe that Jonathan ever will get married.Silas may; he certainly has been keeping company long enough withMary Bennet. You are the only Zane who has conquered thatadventurous spirit and the desire to be always roaming the woods insearch of something to kill. Your old boy, Noah, is growing up likeall the Zanes. He fights with all the children in the settlement. Icannot break him of it. He is not a bully, for I have never knownhim to do anything mean or cruel. It is just sheer love offighting."

  "Ha! Ha! I fear you will not break him of that," answered Col. Zane."It is a good joke to say he gets it all from the Zanes. How aboutthe McCollochs? What have you to say of your father and the Majorand John McColloch? They ar
e not anything if not the fighting kind.It's the best trait the youngster could have, out here on theborder. He'll need it all. Don't worry about him. Where is Betty?"

  "I told her to take the children out for a sled ride. Betty needsexercise. She stays indoors too much, and of late she looks pale."

  "What! Betty not looking well! She was never ill in her life. I havenoticed no change in her."

  "No, I daresay you have not. You men can't see anything. But I can,and I tell you, Betty is very different from the girl she used tobe. Most of the time she sits and gazes out of her window. She usedto be so bright, and when she was not romping with the children shebusied herself with her needle. Yesterday as I entered her room shehurriedly picked up a book, and, I think, intentionally hid her facebehind it. I saw she had been crying."

  "Come to think of it, I believe I have missed Betty," said Col.Zane, gravely. "She seems more quiet. Is she unhappy? When did youfirst see this change?"

  "I think it a little while after Mr. Clarke left here last fall."

  "Clarke! What has he to do with Betty? What are you driving at?"exclaimed the Colonel, stopping in front of his wife. His faced hadpaled slightly. "I had forgotten Clarke. Bess, you can't mean--"

  "Now, Eb, do not get that look on your face. You always frightenme," answered his wife, as she quietly placed her hand on his arm."I do not mean anything much, certainly nothing against Mr. Clarke.He was a true gentleman. I really liked him."

  "So did I," interrupted the Colonel.

  "I believe Betty cared for Mr. Clarke. She was always different withhim. He has gone away and has forgotten her. That is strange to us,because we cannot imagine any one indifferent to our beautifulBetty. Nevertheless, no matter how attractive a woman may be mensometimes love and ride away. I hear the children coming now. Do notlet Betty see that we have been talking about her. She is as quickas a steel trap."

  A peal of childish laughter came from without. The door opened andBetty ran in, followed by the sturdy, rosy-checked youngsters. Allthree were white with snow.

  "We have had great fun," said Betty. "We went over the bank once andtumbled off the sled into the snow. Then we had a snow-ballingcontest, and the boys compelled me to strike my colors and fly forthe house."

  Col. Zane looked closely at his sister. Her cheeks were flowing withhealth; her eyes were sparkling with pleasure. Failing to observeany indication of the change in Betty which his wife had spoken, heconcluded that women were better qualified to judge their own sexthan were men. He had to confess to himself that the only change hecould see in his sister was that she grew prettier every day of herlife.

  "Oh, papa. I hit Sam right in the head with a big snow-ball, and Imade Betty run into the house, and I slid down to all by myself. Samwas afraid," said Noah to his father.

  "Noah, if Sammy saw the danger in sliding down the hill he wasbraver than you. Now both of you run to Annie and have these wetthings taken off."

  "I must go get on dry clothes myself," said Betty. "I am nearlyfrozen. It is growing colder. I saw Jack come in. Is he going toFort Pitt?"

  "No. He has decided to wait until good weather. I met Mr. Millerover at the garrison this afternoon and he wants you to go on thesled-ride to-night. There is to be a dance down at Watkins' place.All the young people are going. It is a long ride, but I guess itwill be perfectly safe. Silas and Wetzel are going. Dress yourselfwarmly and go with them. You have never seen old Grandma Watkins."

  "I shall be pleased to go," said Betty.

  Betty's room was very cozy, considering that it was in a pioneer'scabin. It had two windows, the larger of which opened on the sidetoward the river. The walls had been smoothly plastered and coveredwith white birch-bark. They were adorned with a few pictures andIndian ornaments. A bright homespun carpet covered the floor. Asmall bookcase stood in the corner. The other furniture consisted oftwo chairs, a small table, a bureau with a mirror, and a largewardrobe. It was in this last that Betty kept the gowns which shehad brought from Philadelphia, and which were the wonder of all thegirls in the village.

  "I wonder why Eb looked so closely at me," mused Betty, as sheslipped on her little moccasins. "Usually he is not anxious to haveme go so far from the fort; and now he seemed to think I would enjoythis dance to-night. I wonder what Bessie has been telling him."

  Betty threw some wood on the smouldering fire in the little stonegrate and sat down to think. Like every one who has a humiliatingsecret, Betty was eternally suspicious and feared the very wallswould guess it. Swift as light came the thought that her brother andhis wife had suspected her secret and had been talking about her,perhaps pitying her. With this thought came the fear that if she hadbetrayed herself to the Colonel's wife she might have done so toothers. The consciousness that this might well be true and that evennow the girls might be talking and laughing at her caused herexceeding shame and bitterness.

  Many weeks had passed since that last night that Betty and AlfredClarke had been together.

  In due time Col. Zane's men returned and Betty learned from Jonathanthat Alfred had left them at Ft. Pitt, saying he was going south tohis old home. At first she had expected some word from Alfred, aletter, or if not that, surely an apology for his conduct on thatlast evening they had been together. But Jonathan brought her noword, and after hoping against hope and wearing away the long dayslooking for a letter that never came, she ceased to hope and plungedinto despair.

  The last few months had changed her life; changed it as onlyconstant thinking, and suffering that must be hidden from the world,can change the life of a young girl. She had been so intent on herown thoughts, so deep in her dreams that she had taken no heed ofother people. She did not know that those who loved her were alwaysthinking of her welfare and would naturally see even a slight changein her. With a sudden shock of surprise and pain she realized thatto-day for the first time in a month she had played with the boys.Sammy had asked her why she did not laugh any more. Now sheunderstood the mad antics of Tige that morning; Madcap's whinney ofdelight; the chattering of the squirrels, and Caesar's pranks in thesnow. She had neglected her pets. She had neglected her work, herfriends, the boys' lessons; and her brother. For what? What wouldher girl friends say? That she was pining for a lover who hadforgotten her. They would say that and it would be true. She didthink of him constantly.

  With bitter pain she recalled the first days of the acquaintancewhich now seemed so long past; how much she had disliked Alfred; howangry she had been with him and how contemptuously she had spurnedhis first proffer of friendship; how, little by little, her pridehad been subdued; then the struggle with her heart. And, at last,after he had gone, came the realization that the moments spent withhim had been the sweetest of her life. She thought of him as sheused to see him stand before her; so good to look at; so strong andmasterful, and yet so gentle.

  "Oh, I cannot bear it," whispered Betty with a half sob, giving upto a rush of tender feeling. "I love him. I love him, and I cannotforget him. Oh, I am so ashamed."

  Betty bowed her head on her knees. Her slight form quivered a whileand then grew still. When a half hour later she raised her head herface was pale and cold. It bore the look of a girl who had suddenlybecome a woman; a woman who saw the battle of life before her andwho was ready to fight. Stern resolve gleamed from her flashingeyes; there was no faltering in those set lips.

  Betty was a Zane and the Zanes came of a fighting race. Their bloodhad ever been hot and passionate; the blood of men quick to love andquick to hate. It had flowed in the veins of daring, reckless menwho had fought and died for their country; men who had won theirsweethearts with the sword; men who had had unconquerable spirits.It was this fighting instinct that now rose in Betty; it gave herstrength and pride to defend her secret; the resolve to fightagainst the longing in her heart.

  "I will forget him! I will tear him out of my heart!" she exclaimedpassionately. "He never deserved my love. He did not care. I was alittle fool to let him amuse himself with me. He went away andforgot. I hate him."
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  At length Betty subdued her excitement, and when she went down tosupper a few minutes later she tried to maintain a cheerfulcomposure of manner and to chat with her old-time vivacity.

  "Bessie, I am sure you have exaggerated things," remarked Col. Zaneafter Betty had gone upstairs to dress for the dance. "Perhaps it isonly that Betty grows a little tired of this howling wilderness.Small wonder if she does. You know she has always been used tocomfort and many young people, places to go and all that. This isher first winter on the frontier. She'll come round all right."

  "Have it your way, Ebenezer," answered his wife with a look ofamused contempt on her face. "I am sure I hope you are right. By theway, what do you think of this Ralfe Miller? He has been much withBetty of late."

  "I do not know the fellow, Bessie. He seems agreeable. He is agood-looking young man. Why do you ask?"

  "The Major told me that Miller had a bad name at Pitt, and that hehad been a friend of Simon Girty before Girty became a renegade."

  "Humph! I'll have to speak to Sam. As for knowing Girty, there isnothing terrible in that. All the women seem to think that Simon isthe very prince of devils. I have known all the Girtys for years.Simon was not a bad fellow before he went over to the Indians. It ishis brother James who has committed most of those deeds which havemade the name of Girty so infamous."

  "I don't like Miller," continued Mrs. Zane in a hesitating way. "Imust admit that I have no sensible reason for my dislike. He ispleasant and agreeable, yes, but behind it there is a certainintensity. That man has something on his mind."

  "If he is in love with Betty, as you seem to think, he has enough onhis mind. I'll vouch for that," said Col. Zane. "Betty is inclinedto be a coquette. If she liked Clarke pretty well, it may be alesson to her."

  "I wish she were married and settled down. It may have been no greatharm for Betty to have had many admirers while in Philadelphia, butout here on the border it will never do. These men will not have it.There will be trouble come of Betty's coquettishness."

  "Why, Bessie, she is only a child. What would you have her do? Marrythe first man who asked her?"

  "The clod-hoppers are coming," said Mrs. Zane as the jingling ofsleigh bells broke the stillness.

  Col. Zane sprang up and opened the door. A broad stream of lightflashed from the room and lighted up the road. Three powerful teamsstood before the door. They were hitched to sleds, or clod-hoppers,which were nothing more than wagon-beds fastened on wooden runners.A chorus of merry shouts greeted Col. Zane as he appeared in thedoorway.

  "All right! all right! Here she is," he cried, as Betty ran down thesteps.

  The Colonel bundled her in a buffalo robe in a corner of theforemost sled. At her feet he placed a buckskin bag containing a hotstone Mrs. Zane thoughtfully had provided.

  "All ready here. Let them go," called the Colonel. "You will haveclear weather. Coming back look well to the traces and keep a watchfor the wolves."

  The long whips cracked, the bells jingled, the impatient horsesplunged forward and away they went over the glistening snow. Thenight was clear and cold; countless stars blinked in the black vaultoverhead; the pale moon cast its wintry light down on a white andfrozen world. As the runners glided swiftly and smoothly onwardshowers of dry snow like fine powder flew from under the horses'hoofs and soon whitened the black-robed figures in the sleds. Theway led down the hill past the Fort, over the creek bridge and alongthe road that skirted the Black Forest. The ride was long; it led upand down hills, and through a lengthy stretch of gloomy forest.Sometimes the drivers walked the horses up a steep climb and againraced them along a level bottom. Making a turn in the road they sawa bright light in the distance which marked their destination. Infive minutes the horses dashed into a wide clearing. An immense logfire burned in front of a two-story structure. Streams of lightpoured from the small windows; the squeaking of fiddles, theshuffling of many feet, and gay laughter came through the open door.

  The steaming horses were unhitched, covered carefully with robes andled into sheltered places, while the merry party disappeared intothe house.

  The occasion was the celebration of the birthday of old Dan Watkins'daughter. Dan was one of the oldest settlers along the river; infact, he had located his farm several years after Col. Zane hadfounded the settlement. He was noted for his open-handed dealing andkindness of heart. He had loaned many a head of cattle which hadnever been returned, and many a sack of flour had left his millunpaid for in grain. He was a good shot, he would lay a tree on theground as quickly as any man who ever swung an axe, and he coulddrink more whiskey than any man in the valley.

  Dan stood at the door with a smile of welcome upon his ruggedfeatures and a handshake and a pleasant word for everyone. Hisdaughter Susan greeted the men with a little curtsy and kissed thegirls upon the cheek. Susan was not pretty, though she was strongand healthy; her laughing blue eyes assured a sunny disposition, andshe numbered her suitors by the score.

  The young people lost no time. Soon the floor was covered with theirwhirling forms.

  In one corner of the room sat a little dried-up old woman with whitehair and bright dark eyes. This was Grandma Watkins. She was veryold, so old that no one knew her age, but she was still vigorousenough to do her day's work with more pleasure than many a youngerwoman. Just now she was talking to Wetzel, who leaned upon hisinseparable rifle and listened to her chatter. The hunter liked theold lady and would often stop at her cabin while on his way to thesettlement and leave at her door a fat turkey or a haunch ofvenison.

  "Lew Wetzel, I am ashamed of you." Grandmother Watkins was saying."Put that gun in the corner and get out there and dance. Enjoyyourself. You are only a boy yet."

  "I'd better look on, mother," answered the hunter.

  "Pshaw! You can hop and skip around like any of then and laugh tooif you want. I hope that pretty sister of Eb Zane has caught yourfancy."

  "She is not for the like of me," he said gently "I haven't thegifts."

  "Don't talk about gifts. Not to an old woman who has lived threetimes and more your age," she said impatiently. "It is not gifts awoman wants out here in the West. If she does 'twill do her no good.She needs a strong arm to build cabins, a quick eye with a rifle,and a fearless heart. What border-women want are houses andchildren. They must bring up men, men to drive the redskins back,men to till the soil, or else what is the good of our sufferinghere."

  "You are right," said Wetzel thoughtfully. "But I'd hate to see aflower like Betty Zane in a rude hunter's cabin."

  "I have known the Zanes for forty year' and I never saw one yet thatwas afraid of work. And you might win her if you would give uprunning mad after Indians. I'll allow no woman would put up withthat. You have killed many Indians. You ought to be satisfied."

  "Fightin' redskins is somethin' I can't help," said the hunter,slowly shaking his head. "If I got married the fever would come onand I'd leave home. No, I'm no good for a woman. Fightin' is all I'mgood for."

  "Why not fight for her, then? Don't let one of these boys walk offwith her. Look at her. She likes fun and admiration. I believe youdo care for her. Why not try to win her?"

  "Who is that tall man with her?" continued the old lady as Wetzeldid not answer. "There, they have gone into the other room. Who ishe?"

  "His name is Miller."

  "Lewis, I don't like him. I have been watching him all evening. I'ma contrary old woman, I know, but I have seen a good many men in mytime, and his face is not honest. He is in love with her. Does shecare for him?"

  "No, Betty doesn't care for Miller. She's just full of life andfun."

  "You may be mistaken. All the Zanes are fire and brimstone and thisgirl is a Zane clear through. Go and fetch her to me, Lewis. I'lltell you if there's a chance for you."

  "Dear mother, perhaps there's a wife in Heaven for me. There's noneon earth," said the hunter, a sad smile flitting over his calm face.

  Ralfe Miller, whose actions had occasioned the remarks of the oldlady, would have been conspicu
ous in any assembly of men. There wassomething in his dark face that compelled interest and yet left theobserver in doubt. His square chin, deep-set eyes and firm mouthdenoted a strong and indomitable will. He looked a man whom it wouldbe dangerous to cross.

  Little was known of Miller's history. He hailed from Ft. Pitt, wherehe had a reputation as a good soldier, but a man of morose andquarrelsome disposition. It was whispered that he drank, and that hehad been friendly with the renegades McKee, Elliott, and Girty. Hehad passed the fall and winter at Ft. Henry, serving on garrisonduty. Since he had made the acquaintance of Betty he had shown herall the attention possible.

  On this night a close observer would have seen that Miller waslaboring under some strong feeling. A half-subdued fire gleamed fromhis dark eyes. A peculiar nervous twitching of his nostrils betrayeda poorly suppressed excitement.

  All evening he followed Betty like a shadow. Her kindness may haveencouraged him. She danced often with him and showed a certainpreference for his society. Alice and Lydia were puzzled by Betty'smanner. As they were intimate friends they believed they knewsomething of her likes and dislikes. Had not Betty told them she didnot care for Mr. Miller? What was the meaning of the arch glancesshe bestowed upon him, if she did not care for him? To be sure, itwas nothing wonderful for Betty to smile,--she was always prodigalof her smiles--but she had never been known to encourage any man.The truth was that Betty had put her new resolution into effect; tobe as merry and charming as any fancy-free maiden could possibly be,and the farthest removed from a young lady pining for an absent andindifferent sweetheart. To her sorrow Betty played her part toowell.

  Except to Wetzel, whose keen eyes little escaped, there was nosignificance in Miller's hilarity one moment and suddenthoughtfulness the next. And if there had been, it would haveexcited no comment. Most of the young men had sampled some of oldDan's best rye and their flushed faces and unusual spirits did notresult altogether from the exercise of the dance.

  After one of the reels Miller led Betty, with whom he had beendancing, into one of the side rooms. Round the dimly lighted roomwere benches upon which were seated some of the dancers. Betty wasuneasy in mind and now wished that she had remained at home. Theyhad exchanged several commonplace remarks when the music struck upand Betty rose quickly to her feet.

  "See, the others have gone. Let us return," she said.

  "Wait," said Miller hurriedly. "Do not go just yet. I wish to speakto you. I have asked you many times if you will marry me. Now I askyou again."

  "Mr. Miller, I thanked you and begged you not to cause us both painby again referring to that subject," answered Betty with dignity."If you will persist in bringing it up we cannot be friends anylonger."

  "Wait, please wait. I have told you that I will not take 'No' for ananswer. I love you with all my heart and soul and I cannot give youup."

  His voice was low and hoarse and thrilled with a strong man'spassion. Betty looked up into his face and tears of compassionfilled her eyes. Her heart softened to this man, and her consciencegave her a little twinge of remorse. Could she not have averted allthis? No doubt she had been much to blame, and this thought made hervoice very low and sweet as she answered him.

  "I like you as a friend, Mr. Miller, but we can never be more thanfriends. I am very sorry for you, and angry with myself that I didnot try to help you instead of making it worse. Please do not speakof this again. Come, let us join the others."

  They were quite alone in the room. As Betty finished speaking andstarted for the door Miller intercepted her. She recoiled in alarmfrom his white face.

  "No, you don't go yet. I won't give you up so easily. No woman canplay fast and loose with me! Do you understand? What have you meantall this winter? You encouraged me. You know you did," he criedpassionately.

  "I thought you were a gentleman. I have really taken the trouble todefend you against persons who evidently were not misled as to yourreal nature. I will not listen to you," said Betty coldly. Sheturned away from him, all her softened feeling changed to scorn.

  "You shall listen to me," he whispered as he grasped her wrist andpulled her backward. All the man's brutal passion had been aroused.The fierce border blood boiled within his heart. Unmasked he showedhimself in his true colors a frontier desperado. His eyes gleameddark and lurid beneath his bent brows and a short, desperate laughpassed his lips.

  "I will make you love me, my proud beauty. I shall have you yet, oneway or another."

  "Let me go. How dare you touch me!" cried Betty, the hot bloodcoloring her face. She struck him a stinging blow with her free handand struggled with all her might to free herself; but she waspowerless in his iron grasp. Closer he drew her.

  "If it costs me my life I will kiss you for that blow," he mutteredhoarsely.

  "Oh, you coward! you ruffian! Release me or I will scream."

  She had opened her lips to call for help when she saw a dark figurecross the threshold. She recognized the tall form of Wetzel. Thehunter stood still in the doorway for a second and then with theswiftness of light he sprang forward. The single straightening ofhis arm sent Miller backward over a bench to the floor with acrashing sound. Miller rose with some difficulty and stood with onehand to his head.

  "Lew, don't draw your knife," cried Betty as she saw Wetzel's handgo inside his hunting shirt. She had thrown herself in front of himas Miller got to his feet. With both little hands she clung to thebrawny arm of the hunter, but she could not stay it. Wetzel's handslipped to his belt.

  "For God's sake, Lew, do not kill him," implored Betty, gazinghorror-stricken at the glittering eyes of the hunter. "You havepunished him enough. He only tried to kiss me. I was partly toblame. Put your knife away. Do not shed blood. For my sake, Lew, formy sake!"

  When Betty found that she could not hold Wetzel's arm she threw herarms round his neck and clung to him with all her young strength. Nodoubt her action averted a tragedy. If Miller had been inclined todraw a weapon then he might have had a good opportunity to use it.He had the reputation of being quick with his knife, and many of hispast fights testified that he was not a coward. But he made noeffort to attack Wetzel. It was certain that he measured with hiseye the distance to the door. Wetzel was not like other men.Irrespective of his wonderful strength and agility there wassomething about the Indian hunter that terrified all men. Millershrank before those eyes. He knew that never in all his life ofadventure had he been as near death as at that moment. There wasnothing between him and eternity but the delicate arms of this frailgirl. At a slight wave of the hunter's hand towards the door heturned and passed out.

  "Oh, how dreadful!" cried Betty, dropping upon a bench with a sob ofrelief. "I am glad you came when you did even though you frightenedme more than he did. Promise me that you will not do Miller anyfurther harm. If you had fought it would all have been on myaccount; one or both of you might have been killed. Don't look at meso. I do not care for him. I never did. Now that I know him Idespise him. He lost his senses and tried to kiss me. I could havekilled him myself."

  Wetzel did not answer. Betty had been holding his hand in both herown while she spoke impulsively.

  "I understand how difficult it is for you to overlook an insult tome," she continued earnestly. "But I ask it of you. You are my bestfriend, almost my brother, and I promise you that if he ever speaksa word to me again that is not what it should be I will tell you."

  "I reckon I'll let him go, considerin' how set on it you are."

  "But remember, Lew, that he is revengeful and you must be on thelookout," said Betty gravely as she recalled the malignant gleam inMiller's eyes.

  "He's dangerous only like a moccasin snake that hides in the grass."

  "Am I all right? Do I look mussed or--or excited--or anything?"asked Betty.

  Lewis smiled as she turned round for his benefit. Her hair was alittle awry and the lace at her neck disarranged. The natural bloomhad not quite returned to her cheeks. With a look in his eyes thatwould have mystified Betty for many a day had she but see
n it he ranhis gaze over the dainty figure. Then reassuring her that she lookedas well as ever, he led her into the dance-room.

  "So this is Betty Zane. Dear child, kiss me," said GrandmotherWatkins when Wetzel had brought Betty up to her. "Now, let me get agood look at you. Well, well, you are a true Zane. Black hair andeyes; all fire and pride. Child, I knew your father and mother longbefore you were born. Your father was a fine man but a proud one.And how do you like the frontier? Are you enjoying yourself?"

  "Oh, yes, indeed," said Betty, smiling brightly at the old lady.

  "Well, dearie, have a good time while you can. Life is hard in apioneer's cabin. You will not always have the Colonel to look afteryou. They tell me you have been to some grand school inPhiladelphia. Learning is very well, but it will not help you in thecabin of one of these rough men."

  "There is a great need of education in all the pioneers' homes. Ihave persuaded brother Eb to have a schoolteacher at the Fort nextspring."

  "First teach the boys to plow and the girls to make Johnny cake. Howmuch you favor your brother Isaac. He used to come and see me often.So must you in summertime. Poor lad, I suppose he is dead by thistime. I have seen so many brave and good lads go. There now, I didnot mean to make you sad," and the old lady patted Betty's hand andsighed.

  "He often spoke of you and said that I must come with him to seeyou. Now he is gone," said Betty.

  "Yes, he is gone, Betty, but you must not be sad while you are soyoung. Wait until you are old like I am. How long have you known LewWetzel?"

  "All my life. He used to carry me in his arm, when I was a baby. Ofcourse I do not remember that, but as far back as I can go in memoryI can see Lew. Oh, the many times he has saved me from disaster! Butwhy do you ask?"

  "I think Lew Wetzel cares more for you than for all the world. He isas silent as an Indian, but I am an old woman and I can read men'shearts. If he could be made to give up his wandering life he wouldbe the best man on the border."

  "Oh, indeed I think you are wrong. Lew does not care for me in thatway," said Betty, surprised and troubled by the old lady'svehemence.

  A loud blast from a hunting-horn directed the attention of all tothe platform at the upper end of the hall, where Dan Watkins stood.The fiddlers ceased playing, the dancers stopped, and all lookedexpectantly. The scene was simple strong, and earnest. The light inthe eyes of these maidens shone like the light from the pine coneson the walls. It beamed soft and warm. These fearless sons of thewilderness, these sturdy sons of progress, standing there claspingthe hands of their partners and with faces glowing with happiness,forgetful of all save the enjoyment of the moment, were ready to goout on the morrow and battle unto the death for the homes and thelives of their loved ones.

  "Friends," said Dan when the hum of voices had ceased "I neverthought as how I'd have to get up here and make a speech to-night orI might have taken to the woods. Howsomever, mother and Susan saysas it's gettin' late it's about time we had some supper. Somewherein the big cake is hid a gold ring. If one of the girls gets it shecan keep it as a gift from Susan, and should one of the boys find ithe may make a present to his best girl. And in the bargain he getsto kiss Susan. She made some objection about this and said that partof the game didn't go, but I reckon the lucky young man will decidethat for hisself. And now to the festal board."

  Ample justice was done to the turkey, the venison, and the bearmeat. Grandmother Watkins' delicious apple and pumpkin pies forwhich she was renowned, disappeared as by magic. Likewise the cakesand the sweet cider and the apple butter vanished.

  When the big cake had been cut and divided among the guests, Wetzeldiscovered the gold ring within his share. He presented the ring toBetty, and gave his privilege of kissing Susan to George Reynolds,with the remark: "George, I calkilate Susan would like it better ifyou do the kissin' part." Now it was known to all that George hadlong been an ardent admirer of Susan's, and it was suspected thatshe was not indifferent to him. Nevertheless, she protested that itwas not fair. George acted like a man who had the opportunity of hislife. Amid uproarious laughter he ran Susan all over the room, andwhen he caught her he pulled her hands away from her blushing faceand bestowed a right hearty kiss on her cheek. To everyone'ssurprise and to Wetzel's discomfiture, Susan walked up to him andsaying that as he had taken such an easy way out of it she intendedto punish him by kissing him. And so she did. Poor Lewis' facelooked the picture of dismay. Probably he had never been kissedbefore in his life.

  Happy hours speed away on the wings of the wind. The feasting over,the good-byes were spoken, the girls were wrapped in the warm robes,for it was now intensely cold, and soon the horses, eager to starton the long homeward journey, were pulling hard on their bits. Onthe party's return trip there was an absence of the hilarity whichhad prevailed on their coming. The bells were taken off before thesleds left the blockhouse, and the traces and the harness examinedand tightened with the caution of men who were apprehensive ofdanger and who would take no chances.

  In winter time the foes most feared by the settlers were the timberwolves. Thousands of these savage beasts infested the wild forestregions which bounded the lonely roads, and their wonderful power ofscent and swift and tireless pursuit made a long night ride a thingto be dreaded. While the horses moved swiftly danger from wolves wasnot imminent; but carelessness or some mishap to a trace or a wheelhad been the cause of more than one tragedy.

  Therefore it was not remarkable that the drivers of our partybreathed a sigh of relief when the top of the last steep hill hadbeen reached. The girls were quiet, and tired out and cold theypressed close to one another; the men were silent and watchful.

  When they were half way home and had just reached the outskirts ofthe Black Forest the keen ear of Wetzel caught the cry of a wolf. Itcame from the south and sounded so faint that Wetzel believed atfirst that he had been mistaken. A few moments passed in which thehunter turned his ear to the south. He had about made up his mindthat he had only imagined he had heard something when theunmistakable yelp of a wolf came down on the wind. Then another,this time clear and distinct, caused the driver to turn and whisperto Wetzel. The hunter spoke in a low tone and the driver whipped uphis horses. From out the depths of the dark woods along which theywere riding came a long and mournful howl. It was a wolf answeringthe call of his mate. This time the horses heard it, for they threwback their ears and increased their speed. The girls heard it, forthey shrank closer to the men.

  There is that which is frightful in the cry of a wolf. When one issafe in camp before a roaring fire the short, sharp bark of a wolfis startling, and the long howl will make one shudder. It is solonely and dismal. It makes no difference whether it be given whilethe wolf is sitting on his haunches near some cabin waiting for theremains of the settler's dinner, or while he is in full chase afterhis prey--the cry is equally wild, savage and bloodcurdling.

  Betty had never heard it and though she was brave, when the howlfrom the forest had its answer in another howl from the creekthicket, she slipped her little mittened hand under Wetzel's arm andlooked up at him with frightened eyes.

  In half an hour the full chorus of yelps, barks and howls swelledhideously on the air, and the ever increasing pack of wolves couldbe seen scarcely a hundred yards behind the sleds. The patter oftheir swiftly flying feet on the snow could be distinctly heard. Theslender, dark forms came nearer and nearer every moment. Presentlythe wolves had approached close enough for the occupants of thesleds to see their shining eyes looking like little balls of greenfire. A gaunt beast bolder than the others, and evidently the leaderof the pack, bounded forward until he was only a few yards from thelast sled. At every jump he opened his great jaws and uttered aquick bark as if to embolden his followers.

  Almost simultaneously with the red flame that burst from Wetzel'srifle came a sharp yelp of agony from the leader. He rolled over andover. Instantly followed a horrible mingling of snarls and barks,and snapping of jaws as the band fought over the body of theirluckless comrade.

&nbs
p; This short delay gave the advantage to the horses. When the wolvesagain appeared they were a long way behind. The distance to the fortwas now short and the horses were urged to their utmost. The wolveskept up the chase until they reached the creek bridge and the mill.Then they slowed up: the howling became desultory, and finally thedark forms disappeared in the thickets.