"Good morning, Colonel Zane," said Helen cheerily, coming into the
yard where the colonel was at work. "Did Will come over this way?"
"I reckon you'll find him if you find Betty," replied Colonel Zane
dryly.
"Come to think of it, that's true," Helen said, laughing. "I've a
suspicion Will ran off from me this morning."
"He and Betty have gone nutting."
"I declare it's mean of Will," Helen said petulantly. "I have been
wanting to go so much, and both he and Betty promised to take me."
"Say, Helen, let me tell you something," said the colonel, resting on
his spade and looking at her quizzically. "I told them we hadn't had
enough frost yet to ripen hickory-nuts and chestnuts. But they went
anyhow. Will did remember to say if you came along, to tell you he'd
bring the colored leaves you wanted."
"How extremely kind of him. I've a mind to follow them."
"Now see here, Helen, it might be a right good idea for you not to,"
returned the colonel, with a twinkle and a meaning in his eye.
"Oh, I understand. How singularly dull I've been."
"It's this way. We're mighty glad to have a fine young fellow like
Will come along and interest Betty. Lord knows we had a time with her
after Alfred died. She's just beginning to brighten up now, and,
Helen, the point is that young people on the border must get married.
No, my dear, you needn't laugh, you'll have to find a husband same as
the other girls. It's not here as it was back east, where a lass might
have her fling, so to speak, and take her time choosing. An unmarried
girl on the border is a positive menace. I saw, not many years ago,
two first-rate youngsters, wild with border fire and spirit, fight and
kill each other over a lass who wouldn't choose. Like as not, if she
had done so, the three would have been good friends, for out here
we're like one big family. Remember this, Helen, and as far as Betty
and Will are concerned you will be wise to follow our example: Leave
them to themselves. Nothing else will so quickly strike fire between a
boy and a girl."
"Betty and Will! I'm sure I'd love to see them care for each other."
Then with big, bright eyes bent gravely on him she continued, "May I
ask, Colonel Zane, who you have picked out for me?"
"There, now you've said it, and that's the problem. I've looked over
every marriageable young man in the settlement, except Jack. Of
course you couldn't care for him, a borderman, a fighter and all that;
but I can't find a fellow I think quite up to you."
"Colonel Zane, is not a borderman such as Jonathan worthy a woman's
regard?" Helen asked a little wistfully.
"Bless your heart, lass, yes!" replied Colonel Zane heartily. "People
out here are not as they are back east. An educated man, polished and
all that, but incapable of hard labor, or shrinking from dirt and
sweat on his hands, or even blood, would not help us in the winning of
the West. Plain as Jonathan is, and with his lack of schooling, he is
greatly superior to the majority of young men on the frontier. But,
unlettered or not, he is as fine a man as ever stepped in moccasins,
or any other kind of foot gear."
"Then why did you say--that--what you did?"
"Well, it's this way," replied Colonel Zane, stealing a glance at her
pensive, downcast face. "Girls all like to be wooed. Almost every one
I ever knew wanted the young man of her choice to outstrip all her
other admirers, and then, for a spell, nearly die of love for her,
after which she'd give in. Now, Jack, being a borderman, a man with no
occupation except scouting, will never look at a girl, let alone make
up to her. I imagine, my dear, it'd take some mighty tall courting to
fetch home Helen Sheppard a bride. On the other hand, if some pretty
and spirited lass, like, say for instance, Helen Sheppard, would come
along and just make Jack forget Indians and fighting, she'd get the
finest husband in the world. True, he's wild; but only in the woods. A
simpler, kinder, cleaner man cannot be found."
"I believe that, Colonel Zane; but where is the girl who would
interest him?" Helen asked with spirit. "These bordermen are
unapproachable. Imagine a girl interesting that great, cold, stern
Wetzel! All her flatteries, her wiles, the little coquetries that
might attract ordinary men, would not be noticed by him, or
Jonathan either."
"I grant it'd not be easy, but woman was made to subjugate man, and
always, everlastingly, until the end of life here on this beautiful
earth, she will do it."
"Do you think Jonathan and Wetzel will catch Brandt?" asked Helen,
changing the subject abruptly.
"I'd stake my all that this year's autumn leaves will fall on Brandt's
grave."
Colonel Zane's calm, matter-of-fact coldness made Helen shiver.
"Why, the leaves have already begun to fall. Papa told me Brandt had
gone to join the most powerful outlaw band on the border. How can
these two men, alone, cope with savages, as I've heard they do, and
break up such an outlaw band as Legget's?"
"That's a question I've heard Daniel Boone ask about Wetzel, and
Boone, though not a borderman in all the name implies, was a great
Indian fighter. I've heard old frontiersmen, grown grizzled on the
frontier, use the same words. I've been twenty years with that man,
yet I can't answer it. Jonathan, of course, is only a shadow of him;
Wetzel is the type of these men who have held the frontier for us. He
was the first borderman, and no doubt he'll be the last."
"What have Jonathan and Wetzel that other men do not possess?"
"In them is united a marvelously developed woodcraft, with wonderful
physical powers. Imagine a man having a sense, almost an animal
instinct, for what is going on in the woods. Take for instance the
fleetness of foot. That is one of the greatest factors. It is
absolutely necessary to run, to get away when to hold ground would be
death. Whether at home or in the woods, the bordermen retreat every
day. You wouldn't think they practiced anything of the kind, would
you? Well, a man can't be great in anything without keeping at it.
Jonathan says he exercises to keep his feet light. Wetzel would just
as soon run as walk. Think of the magnificent condition of these men.
When a dash of speed is called for, when to be fleet of foot is to
elude vengeance-seeking Indians, they must travel as swiftly as the
deer. The Zanes were all sprinters. I could do something of the kind;
Betty was fast on her feet, as that old fort will testify until the
logs rot; Isaac was fleet, too, and Jonathan can get over the ground
like a scared buck. But, even so, Wetzel can beat him."
"Goodness me, Helen!" exclaimed the colonel's buxom wife, from the
window, "don't you ever get tired hearing Eb talk of Wetzel, and Jack,
and Indians? Come in with me. I venture to say my gossip will do you
more good than his stories."
Therefore Helen went in to chat with Mrs. Zane, for she was always
glad to listen to the colonel's wife, who was so bright and pleasant,
so helpful and kindly in her womanly way. In the course of their
conversation, which drifted from weaving linsey, Mrs. Zane's
occupation at the tune, to the costly silks and satins of remembered
days, and then to matters of more present interest, Helen spoke of
Colonel Zane's hint about Will and Betty.
"Isn't Eb a terror? He's the worst matchmatcher you ever saw,"
declared the colonel's good spouse.
"There's no harm in that."
"No, indeed; it's a good thing, but he makes me laugh, and Betty, he
sets her furious."
"The colonel said he had designs on me."
"Of course he has, dear old Eb! How he'd love to see you happily
married. His heart is as big as that mountain yonder. He has given
this settlement his whole life."
"I believe you. He has such interest, such zeal for everybody. Only
the other day he was speaking to me of Mr. Mordaunt, telling how sorry
he was for the Englishman, and how much he'd like to help him. It does
seem a pity a man of Mordaunt's blood and attainments should sink to
utter worthlessness."
"Yes,'tis a pity for any man, blood or no, and the world's full of
such wrecks. I always liked that man's looks. I never had a word with
him, of course; but I've seen him often, and something about him
appealed to me. I don't believe it was just his handsome face; still I
know women are susceptible that way."
"I, too, liked him once as a friend," said Helen feelingly. "Well, I'm
glad he's gone."
"Gone?"
"Yes, he left Fort Henry yesterday. He came to say good-bye to me,
and, except for his pale face and trembling hands, was much as he used
to be in Virginia. Said he was going home to England, and wanted to
tell me he was sorry--for--for all he'd done to make papa and me
suffer. Drink had broken him, he said, and surely he looked a broken
man. I shook hands with him, and then slipped upstairs and cried."
"Poor fellow!" sighed Mrs. Zane.
"Papa said he left Fort Pitt with one of Metzar's men as a guide."
"Then he didn't take the 'little cuss,' as Eb calls his man Case?"
"No, if I remember rightly papa said Case wouldn't go."
"I wish he had. He's no addition to our village."
Voices outside attracted their attention. Mrs. Zane glanced from the
window and said: "There come Betty and Will."
Helen went on the porch to see her cousin and Betty entering the
yard, and Colonel Zane once again leaning on his spade.
"Gather any hickory-nuts from birch or any other kind of trees?" asked
the colonel grimly.
"No," replied Will cheerily, "the shells haven't opened yet."
"Too bad the frost is so backward," said Colonel Zane with a laugh.
"But I can't see that it makes any difference."
"Where are my leaves?" asked Helen, with a smile and a nod to Betty.
"What leaves?" inquired that young woman, plainly mystified.
"Why, the autumn leaves Will promised to gather with me, then changed
his mind, and said he'd bring them."
"I forgot," Will replied a little awkwardly.
Colonel Zane coughed, and then, catching Betty's glance, which had
begun to flash, he plied his spade vigorously.
Betty's face had colored warmly at her brother's first question; it
toned down slightly when she understood that he was not going to tease
her as usual, and suddenly, as she looked over his head, it paled
white as snow.
"Eb, look down the lane!" she cried.
Two tall men were approaching with labored tread, one half-supporting
his companion.
"Wetzel! Jack! and Jack's hurt!" cried Betty.
"My dear, be calm," said Colonel Zane, in that quiet tone he always
used during moments of excitement. He turned toward the bordermen, and
helped Wetzel lead Jonathan up the walk into the yard.
From Wetzel's clothing water ran, his long hair was disheveled, his
aspect frightful. Jonathan's face was white and drawn. His buckskin
hunting coat was covered with blood, and the hand which he held
tightly against his left breast showed dark red stains.
Helen shuddered. Almost fainting, she leaned against the porch, too
horrified to cry out, with contracting heart and a chill stealing
through her veins.
"Jack! Jack!" cried Betty, in agonized appeal.
"Betty, it's nothin'," said Wetzel.
"Now, Betts, don't be scared of a little blood," Jonathan said with a
faint smile flitting across his haggard face.
"Bring water, shears an' some linsey cloth," added Wetzel, as Mrs.
Zane came running out.
"Come inside," cried the colonel's wife, as she disappeared again
immediately.
"No," replied the borderman, removing his coat, and, with the
assistance of his brother, he unlaced his hunting shirt, pulling it
down from a wounded shoulder. A great gory hole gaped just beneath his
left collar-bone.
Although stricken with fear, when Helen saw the bronzed, massive
shoulder, the long, powerful arm with its cords of muscles playing
under the brown skin, she felt a thrill of admiration.
"Just missed the lung," said Mrs. Zane. "Eb, no bullet ever made that
hole."
Wetzel washed the bloody wound, and, placing on it a wad of leaves he
took from his pocket, bound up the shoulder tightly.
"What made that hole?" asked Colonel Zane.
Wetzel lifted the quiver of arrows Jonathan had laid on the porch,
and, selecting one, handed it to the colonel. The flint-head and a
portion of the shaft were stained with blood.
"The Shawnee!" exclaimed Colonel Zane. Then he led Wetzel aside, and
began conversing in low tones while Jonathan, with Betty holding his
arm, ascended the steps and went within the dwelling.
Helen ran home, and, once in her room, gave vent to her emotions. She
cried because of fright, nervousness, relief, and joy. Then she bathed
her face, tried to rub some color into her pale cheeks, and set about
getting dinner as one in a trance. She could not forget that broad
shoulder with its frightful wound. What a man Jonathan must be to
receive a blow like that and live! Exhausted, almost spent, had been
his strength when he reached home, yet how calm and cool he was! What
would she not have given for the faint smile that shone in his eyes
for Betty?
The afternoon was long for Helen. When at last supper was over she
changed her gown, and, asking Will to accompany her, went down the
lane toward Colonel Zane's cabin. At this hour the colonel almost
invariably could be found sitting on his doorstep puffing a long
Indian pipe, and gazing with dreamy eyes over the valley.
"Well, well, how sweet you look!" he said to Helen; then with a wink
of his eyelid, "Hello, Willie, you'll find Elizabeth inside
with Jack."
"How is he?" asked Helen eagerly, as Will with a laugh and a retort
mounted the steps.
"Jack's doing splendidly. He slept all day. I don't think his injury
amounts to much, at least not for such as him or Wetzel. It would have
finished ordinary men. Bess says if complications don't set in,
blood-poison or something to start a fever, he'll be up shortly.
Wetzel believes the two of 'em will be on the trail inside of a week."
"Did they find Brandt?" asked Helen in a low voice.
"Yes, they ran him to his hole, and, as might have been expected, it
was Bing Legget's camp. The Indians took Jonathan there."
"Then Jack was captured?"
Colonel Zane related the events, as told briefly by Wetzel, that had
taken place during the preceding three days.
"The Indian I saw at the spring carried that bow Jonathan brought
back. He must have shot the arrow. He was a magnificent savage."
"He was indeed a great, and a bad Indian, one of the craftiest spies
who ever stepped in moccasins; but he lies quiet now on the moss and
the leaves. Bing Legget will never find another runner like that
Shawnee. Let us go indoors."
He led Helen into the large sitting-room where Jonathan lay on a
couch, with Betty and Will sitting beside him. The colonel's wife and
children, Silas Zane, and several neighbors, were present.
"Here, Jack, is a lady inquiring after your health. Betts, this
reminds me of the time Isaac came home wounded, after his escape from
the Hurons. Strikes me he and his Indian bride should be about due
here on a visit."
Helen forgot every one except the wounded man lying so quiet and pale
upon the couch. She looked down upon him with eyes strangely dilated,
and darkly bright.
"How are you?" she asked softly.
"I'm all right, thank you, lass," answered Jonathan.
Colonel Zane contrived, with inimitable skill, to get Betty, Will,
Silas, Bessie and the others interested in some remarkable news he had
just heard, or made up, and this left Jonathan and Helen comparatively
alone for the moment.
The wise old colonel thought perhaps this might be the right time. He
saw Helen's face as she leaned over Jonathan, and that was enough for
him. He would have taxed his ingenuity to the utmost to keep the
others away from the young couple.
"I was so frightened," murmured Helen.
"Why?" asked Jonathan.
"Oh! You looked so deathly--the blood, and that awful wound!"
"It's nothin', lass."
Helen smiled down upon him. Whether or no the hurt amounted to anything
in the borderman's opinion, she knew from his weakness, and his white,
drawn face, that the strain of the march home had been fearful. His
dark eyes held now nothing of the coldness and glitter so natural to
them. They were weary, almost sad. She did not feel afraid of him
now. He lay there so helpless, his long, powerful frame as quiet as a
sleeping child's! Hitherto an almost indefinable antagonism in him had
made itself felt; now there was only gentleness, as of a man too weary
to fight longer. Helen's heart swelled with pity, and tenderness, and
love. His weakness affected her as had never his strength. With an
involuntary gesture of sympathy she placed her hand softly on his.
Jonathan looked up at her with eyes no longer blind. Pain had softened
him. For the moment he felt carried out of himself, as it were, and
saw things differently. The melting tenderness of her gaze, the
glowing softness of her face, the beauty, bewitched him; and beyond
that, a sweet, impelling gladness stirred within him and would not be
denied. He thrilled as her fingers lightly, timidly touched his, and
opened his broad hand to press hers closely and warmly.
"Lass," he whispered, with a huskiness and unsteadiness unnatural to
his deep voice.
Helen bent her head closer to him; she saw his lips tremble, and his
nostrils dilate; but an unutterable sadness shaded the brightness
in his eyes.
"I love you."
The low whisper reached Helen's ears. She seemed to float dreamily
away to some beautiful world, with the music of those words ringing in
her ears. She looked at him again. Had she been dreaming? No; his dark
eyes met hers with a love that he could no longer deny. An exquisite
emotion, keen, strangely sweet and strong, yet terrible with sharp
pain, pulsated through her being. The revelation had been too abrupt.
It was so wonderfully different from what she had ever dared hope. She
lowered her head, trembling.
The next moment she felt Colonel Zane's hand on her chair, and heard
him say in a cheery voice:
"Well, well, see here, lass, you mustn't make Jack talk too much. See
how white and tired he looks."