It was near the close of a day in early summer. A small group of
persons surrounded Col. Zane where he sat on his doorstep. From time
to time he took the long Indian pipe from his mouth and blew great
clouds of smoke over his head. Major McColloch and Capt. Boggs were
there. Silas Zane half reclined on the grass. The Colonel's wife
stood in the door-way, and Betty sat on the lower step with her head
leaning against her brother's knee. They all had grave faces.
Jonathan Zane had returned that day after an absence of three weeks,
and was now answering the many questions with which he was plied.
"Don't ask me any more and I'll tell you the whole thing," he had
just said, while wiping the perspiration from his brow. His face was
worn; his beard ragged and unkempt; his appearance suggestive of
extreme fatigue. "It was this way: Colonel Crawford had four hundred
and eighty men under him, with Slover and me acting as guides. This
was a large force of men and comprised soldiers from Pitt and the
other forts and settlers from all along the river. You see, Crawford
wanted to crush the Shawnees at one blow. When we reached the
Sandusky River, which we did after an arduous march, not one Indian
did we see. You know Crawford expected to surprise the Shawnee camp,
and when he found it deserted he didn't know what to do. Slover and
I both advised an immediate retreat. Crawford would not listen to
us. I tried to explain to him that ever since the Guadenhutten
massacre keen-eyed Indian scouts had been watching the border. The
news of the present expedition had been carried by fleet runners to
the different Indian tribes and they were working like hives of
angry bees. The deserted Shawnee village meant to me that the alarm
had been sounded in the towns of the Shawnees and the Delawares;
perhaps also in the Wyandot towns to the north. Colonel Crawford was
obdurate and insisted on resuming the march into the Indian country.
The next day we met the Indians coming directly toward us. It was
the combined force of the Delaware chiefs, Pipe and Wingenund. The
battle had hardly commenced when the redskins were reinforced by
four hundred warriors under Shanshota, the Huron chief. The enemy
skulked behind trees and rocks, hid in ravines, and crawled through
the long grass. They could be picked off only by Indian hunters, of
whom Crawford had but few--probably fifty all told. All that day we
managed to keep our position, though we lost sixty men. That night
we lay down to rest by great fires which we built, to prevent night
surprises.
"Early next morning we resumed the fight. I saw Simon Girty on his
white horse. He was urging and cheering the Indians on to desperate
fighting. Their fire became so deadly that we were forced to
retreat. In the afternoon Slover, who had been out scouting,
returned with the information that a mounted force was approaching,
and that he believed they were the reinforcements which Col.
Crawford expected. The reinforcements came up and proved to be
Butler's British rangers from Detroit. This stunned Crawford's
soldiers. The fire of the enemy became hotter and hotter. Our men
were falling like leaves around us. They threw aside their rifles
and ran, many of them right into the hands of the savages. I believe
some of the experienced bordermen escaped but most of Crawford's
force met death on the field. I hid in a hollow log. Next day when I
felt that it could be done safely I crawled out. I saw scalped and
mutilated bodies everywhere, but did not find Col. Crawford's body.
The Indians had taken all the clothing, weapons, blankets and
everything of value. The Wyandots took a northwest trail and the
Delawares and the Shawnees traveled east. I followed the latter
because their trail led toward home. Three days later I stood on the
high bluff above Wingenund's camp. From there I saw Col. Crawford
tied to a stake and a fire started at his feet. I was not five
hundred yards from the camp. I saw the war chiefs, Pipe and
Wingenund; I saw Simon Girty and a British officer in uniform. The
chiefs and Girty were once Crawford's friends. They stood calmly by
and watched the poor victim slowly burn to death. The Indians yelled
and danced round the stake; they devised every kind of hellish
torture. When at last an Indian ran in and tore off the scalp of the
still living man I could bear to see no more, and I turned and ran.
I have been in some tough places, but this last was the worst."
"My God! it is awful--and to think that man Girty was once a white
man," cried Col. Zane.
"He came very near being a dead man," said Jonathan, with grim
humor. "I got a long shot at him and killed his big white horse."
"It's a pity you missed him," said Silas Zane.
"Here comes Wetzel. What will he say about the massacre?" remarked
Major McColloch.
Wetzel joined the group at that moment and shook hands with
Jonathan. When interrogated about the failure of Col. Crawford's
expedition Wetzel said that Slover had just made his appearance at
the cabin of Hugh Bennet, and that he was without clothing and
almost dead from exposure.
"I'm glad Slover got out alive. He was against the march all along.
If Crawford had listened to us he would have averted this terrible
affair and saved his own life. Lew, did Slover know how many men got
out?" asked Jonathan.
"He said not many. The redskins killed all the prisoners exceptin'
Crawford and Knight."
"I saw Col. Crawford burned at the stake. I did not see Dr. Knight.
Maybe they murdered him before I reached the camp of the Delawares,"
said Jonathan.
"Wetzel, in your judgment, what effect will this massacre and
Crawford's death have on the border?" inquired Col. Zane.
"It means another bloody year like 1777," answered Wetzel.
"We are liable to have trouble with the Indians any day. You mean
that."
"There'll be war all along the river. Hamilton is hatchin' some new
devil's trick with Girty. Col. Zane, I calkilate that Girty has a
spy in the river settlements and knows as much about the forts and
defense as you do."
"You can't mean a white spy."
"Yes, just that."
"That is a strong assertion, Lewis, but coming from you it means
something. Step aside here and explain yourself," said Col. Zane,
getting up and walking out to the fence.
"I don't like the looks of things," said the hunter. "A month ago I
ketched this man Miller pokin' his nose round the block-house where
he hadn't ought to be. And I kep' watchin' him. If my suspicions is
correct he's playin' some deep game. I ain't got any proof, but
things looks bad."
"That's strange, Lewis," said Col. Zane soberly. "Now that you
mention it I remember Jonathan said he met Miller near the Kanawha
three weeks ago. That was when Crawford's expedition was on the way
to the Shawnee villages. The Colonel tried to enlist Miller, but
Miller said he was in a hurry to get back to the Fort. And he hasn't
come back yet."
"I ain't surprised. Now, Col. Zane, you are in command here. I'm not
a soldier and for that reason I'm all the better to watch Miller. He
won't suspect me. You give me authority and I'll round up his little
game."
"By all means, Lewis. Go about it your own way, and report anything
to me. Remember you may be mistaken and give Miller the benefit of
the doubt. I don't like the fellow. He has a way of appearing and
disappearing, and for no apparent reason, that makes me distrust
him. But for Heaven's sake, Lew, how would he profit by betraying
us?"
"I don't know. All I know is he'll bear watchin'."
"My gracious, Lew Wetzel!" exclaimed Betty as her brother and the
hunter rejoined the others. "Have you come all the way over here
without a gun? And you have on a new suit of buckskin."
Lewis stood a moment by Betty, gazing down at her with his slight
smile. He looked exceedingly well. His face was not yet bronzed by
summer suns. His long black hair, of which he was as proud as a
woman could have been, and of which he took as much care as he did
of his rifle, waved over his shoulders.
"Betty, this is my birthday, but that ain't the reason I've got my
fine feathers on. I'm goin' to try and make an impression on you,"
replied Lewis, smiling.
"I declare, this is very sudden. But you have succeeded. Who made
the suit? And where did you get all that pretty fringe and those
beautiful beads?"
"That stuff I picked up round an Injun camp. The suit I made
myself."
"I think, Lewis, I must get you to help me make my new gown," said
Betty, roguishly.
"Well, I must be getting' back," said Wetzel, rising.
"Oh, don't go yet. You have not talked to me at all," said Betty
petulantly. She walked to the gate with him.
"What can an Injun hunter say to amuse the belle of the border?"
"I don't want to be amused exactly. I mean I'm not used to being
unnoticed, especially by you." And then in a lower tone she
continued: "What did you mean about Mr. Miller? I heard his name and
Eb looked worried. What did you tell him?"
"Never mind now, Betty. Maybe I'll tell you some day. It's enough
for you to know the Colonel don't like Miller and that I think he is
a bad man. You don't care nothin' for Miller, do you Betty?"
"Not in the least."
"Don't see him any more, Betty. Good-night, now, I must be goin' to
supper."
"Lew, stop! or I shall run after you."
"And what good would your runnin' do?" said Lewis "You'd never ketch
me. Why, I could give you twenty paces start and beat you to yon
tree."
"You can't. Come, try it," retorted Betty, catching hold of her
skirt. She could never have allowed a challenge like that to pass.
"Ha! ha! We are in for a race, Betty. if you beat him, start or no
start, you will have accomplished something never done before," said
Col. Zane.
"Come, Silas, step off twenty paces and make them long ones," said
Betty, who was in earnest.
"We'll make it forty paces," said Silas, as he commenced taking
immense strides.
"What is Lewis looking at?" remarked Col. Zane's wife.
Wetzel, in taking his position for the race, had faced the river.
Mrs. Zane had seen him start suddenly, straighten up and for a
moment stand like a statue. Her exclamation drew he attention of the
others to the hunter.
"Look!" he cried, waving his hand toward the river.
"I declare, Wetzel, you are always seeing something. Where shall I
look? Ah, yes, there is a dark form moving along the bank. By jove!
I believe it's an Indian," said Col. Zane.
Jonathan darted into the house. When he reappeared second later he
had three rifles.
"I see horses, Lew. What do you make out?" said Jonathan. "It's a
bold manoeuvre for Indians unless they have a strong force."
"Hostile Injuns wouldn't show themselves like that. Maybe they ain't
redskins at all. We'll go down to the bluff."
"Oh, yes, let us go," cried Betty, walking down the path toward
Wetzel.
Col. Zane followed her, and presently the whole party were on their
way to the river. When they reached the bluff they saw two horses
come down the opposite bank and enter the water. Then they seemed to
fade from view. The tall trees cast a dark shadow over the water and
the horses had become lost in this obscurity. Col. Zane and Jonathan
walked up and down the bank seeking to find a place which afforded a
clearer view of the river.
"There they come," shouted Silas.
"Yes, I see them just swimming out of the shadow," said Col. Zane.
"Both horses have riders. Lewis, what can you make out?"
"It's Isaac and an Indian girl," answered Wetzel.
This startling announcement created a commotion in the little group.
It was followed by a chorus of exclamations.
"Heavens! Wetzel, you have wonderful eyes. I hope to God you are
right. There, I see the foremost rider waving his hand," cried Col.
Zane.
"Oh, Bessie, Bessie! I believe Lew is right. Look at Tige," said
Betty excitedly.
Everybody had forgotten the dog. He had come down the path with
Betty and had pressed close to her. First he trembled, then whined,
then with a loud bark he ran down the bank and dashed into the
water.
"Hel-lo, Betts," came the cry across the water. There was no
mistaking that clear voice. It was Isaac's.
Although the sun had long gone down behind the hills daylight
lingered. It was bright enough for the watchers to recognize Isaac
Zane. He sat high on his horse and in his hand he held the bridle of
a pony that was swimming beside him. The pony bore the slender
figure of a girl. She was bending forward and her hands were twisted
in the pony's mane.
By this time the Colonel and Jonathan were standing in the shallow
water waiting to grasp the reins and lead the horses up the steep
bank. Attracted by the unusual sight of a wildly gesticulating group
on the river bluff, the settlers from the Fort hurried down to the
scene of action. Capt. Boggs and Alfred Clarke joined the crowd. Old
Sam came running down from the barn. All were intensely excited and
Col. Zane and Jonathan reached for the bridles and led the horses up
the slippery incline.
"Eb, Jack, Silas, here I am alive and well," cried Isaac as he
leaped from his horse. "Betty, you darling, it's Isaac. Don't stand
staring as if I were a ghost."
Whereupon Betty ran to him, flung her arms around his neck and clung
to him. Isaac kissed her tenderly and disengaged himself from her
arms.
"You'll get all wet. Glad to see me? Well, I never had such a happy
moment in my life. Betty, I have brought you home one whom you must
love. This is Myeerah, your sister. She is wet and cold. Take her
home and make her warm and comfortable. You must forget all the
past, for Myeerah has saved me from the stake."
Betty had forgotten the other. At her brother's words she turned and
saw a slender form. Even the wet, mud-stained and ragged Indian
costume failed to hide the grace of that figure. She saw a beautiful
face, as white as her own, and dark eyes full of unshed tears.
"The Eagle is free," said the Indian girl in her low, musical voice.
"You have brought him home to us. Come," said Betty taking the hand
of the trembling maiden.
The settlers crowded round Isaac and greeted him warmly while they
plied him with innumerable questions. Was he free? Who was the
Indian girl? Had he run off with her? Were the Indians preparing for
war?
On the way to the Colonel's house Isaac told briefly of his escape
from the Wyandots, of his capture by Cornplanter, and of his rescue.
He also mentioned the preparations for war he had seen in
Cornplanter's camp, and Girty's story of Col. Crawford's death.
"How does it come that you have the Indian girl with you?" asked
Col. Zane as they left the curious settlers and entered the house.
"I am going to marry Myeerah and I brought her with me for that
purpose. When we are married I will go back to the Wyandots and live
with them until peace is declared."
"Humph! Will it be declared?"
"Myeerah has promised it, and I believe she can bring it about,
especially if I marry her. Peace with the Hurons may help to bring
about peace with the Shawnees. I shall never cease to work for that
end; but even if peace cannot be secured, my duty still is to
Myeerah. She saved me from a most horrible death."
"If your marriage with this Indian girl will secure the friendly
offices of that grim old warrior Tarhe, it is far more than fighting
will ever do. I do not want you to go back. Would we ever see you
again?"
"Oh, yes, often I hope. You see, if I marry Myeerah the Hurons will
allow me every liberty."
"Well, that puts a different light on the subject."
"Oh, how I wish you and Jonathan could have seen Thundercloud and
his two hundred warriors ride into Cornplanter's camp. It was
magnificent! The braves were all crowded near the stake where I was
bound. The fire had been lighted. Suddenly the silence was shattered
by an awful yell. It was Thundercloud's yell. I knew it because I
had heard it before, and anyone who had once heard that yell could
never forget it. In what seemed an incredibly short time
Thundercloud's warriors were lined up in the middle of the camp. The
surprise was so complete that, had it been necessary, they could
have ridden Cornplanter's braves down, killed many, routed the
others, and burned the village. Cornplanter will not get over that
surprise in many a moon."
Betty had always hated the very mention of the Indian girl who had
been the cause of her brother's long absence from home. But she was
so happy in the knowledge of his return that she felt that it was in
her power to forgive much; more over, the white, weary face of the
Indian maiden touched Betty's warm heart. With her quick intuition
she had divined that this was even a greater trial for Myeerah.
Undoubtedly the Indian girl feared the scorn of her lover's people.
She showed it in her trembling hands, in her fearful glances.
Finding that Myeerah could speak and understand English, Betty
became more interested in her charge every moment. She set about to
make Myeerah comfortable, and while she removed the wet and stained
garments she talked all the time. She told her how happy she was
that Isaac was alive and well. She said Myeerah's heroism in saving
him should atone for all the past, and that Isaac's family would
welcome her in his home.
Gradually Myeerah's agitation subsided under Betty's sweet
graciousness, and by the time Betty had dressed her in a white gown,
had brushed the dark hair and added a bright ribbon to the simple
toilet, Myeerah had so far forgotten her fears as to take a shy
pleasure in the picture of herself in the mirror. As for Betty, she
gave vent to a little cry of delight. "Oh, you are perfectly
lovely," cried Betty. "In that gown no one would know you as a
Wyandot princess."
"Myeerah's mother was a white woman."
"I have heard your story, Myeerah, and it is wonderful. You must
tell me all about your life with the Indians. You speak my language
almost as well as I do. Who taught you?"
"Myeerah learned to talk with the White Eagle. She can speak French
with the Coureurs-des-bois."
"That's more than I can do, Myeerah. And I had French teacher," said
Betty, laughing.
"Hello, up there," came Isaac's voice from below.
"Come up, Isaac," called Betty.
"Is this my Indian sweetheart?" exclaimed Isaac, stopping at the
door. "Betty, isn't she--"
"Yes," answered Betty, "she is simply beautiful."
"Come, Myeerah, we must go down to supper," said Isaac, taking her
in his arms and kissing her. "Now you must not be afraid, nor mind
being looked at."
"Everyone will be kind to you," said Betty, taking her hand. Myeerah
had slipped from Isaac's arm and hesitated and hung back. "Come,"
continued Betty, "I will stay with you, and you need not talk if you
do not wish."
Thus reassured Myeerah allowed Betty to lead her down stairs. Isaac
had gone ahead and was waiting at the door.
The big room was brilliantly lighted with pine knots. Mrs. Zane was
arranging the dishes on the table. Old Sam and Annie were hurrying
to and fro from the kitchen. Col. Zane had just come up the cellar
stairs carrying a mouldy looking cask. From its appearance it might
have been a powder keg, but the merry twinkle in the Colonel's eyes
showed that the cask contained something as precious, perhaps, as
powder, but not quite so dangerous. It was a cask of wine over
thirty years old. With Col. Zane's other effects it had stood the
test of the long wagon-train journey over the Virginia mountains,
and of the raft-ride down the Ohio. Col. Zane thought the feast he
had arranged for Isaac would be a fitting occasion for the breaking
of the cask.
Major McCullough, Capt. Boggs and Hugh Bennet had been invited.
Wetzel had been persuaded to come. Betty's friends Lydia and Alice
were there.
As Isaac, with an air of pride, led the two girls into the room Old
Sam saw them and he exclaimed, "For de Lawd's sakes, Marsh Zane,
dar's two pippins, sure can't tell 'em from one anudder."
Betty and Myeerah did resemble each other. They were of about the
same size, tall and slender. Betty was rosy, bright-eyed and
smiling; Myeerah was pale one moment and red the next.
"Friends, this is Myeerah, the daughter of Tarhe," said Isaac
simply. "We are to be married to-morrow."
"Oh, why did you not tell me?" asked Betty in great surprise. "She
said nothing about it."
"You see Myeerah has that most excellent trait in a woman--knowing
when to keep silent," answered Isaac with a smile.
The door opened at this moment, admitting Will Martin and Alfred
Clarke.
"Everybody is here now, Bessie, and I guess we may as well sit down
to supper," said Col. Zane. "And, good friends, let me say that this
is an occasion for rejoicing. It is not so much a marriage that I
mean. That we might have any day if Lydia or Betty would show some
of the alacrity which got a good husband for Alice. Isaac is a free
man and we expect his marriage will bring about peace with a
powerful tribe of Indians. To us, and particularly to you, young
people, that is a matter of great importance. The friendship of the
Hurons cannot but exert an influence on other tribes. I, myself, may
live to see the day that my dream shall be realized--peaceful and
friendly relations with the Indians, the freedom of the soil,
well-tilled farms and growing settlements, and at last, the opening
of this glorious country to the world. Therefore, let us rejoice;
let every one be happy; let your gayest laugh ring out, and tell
your best story."
Betty had blushed painfully at the entrance of Alfred and again at
the Colonel's remark. To add to her embarrassment she found herself
seated opposite Alfred at the table. This was the first time he had
been near her since the Sunday at the meeting-house, and the
incident had a singular effect on Betty. She found herself
possessed, all at once, of an unaccountable shyness, and she could
not lift her eyes from her plate. But at length she managed to steal
a glance at Alfred. She failed to see any signs in his beaming face
of the broken spirit of which her brother had hinted. He looked very
well indeed. He was eating his dinner like any other healthy man,
and talking and laughing with Lydia. This developed another
unaccountable feeling in Betty, but this time it was resentment. Who
ever heard of a man, who was as much in love as his letter said,
looking well and enjoying himself with any other than the object of
his affections? He had got over it, that was all. Just then Alfred
turned and gazed full into Betty's eyes. She lowered them instantly,
but not so quickly that she failed to see in his a reproach.
"You are going to stay with us a while, are you not?" asked Betty of
Isaac.
"No, Betts, not more than a day or so. Now, do not look so
distressed. I do not go back as a prisoner. Myeerah and I can often
come and visit you. But just now I want to get back and try to
prevent the Delawares from urging Tarhe to war."
"Isaac, I believe you are doing the wisest thing possible," said
Capt. Boggs. "And when I look at your bride-to-be I confess I do not
see how you remained single so long."
"That's so, Captain," answered Isaac. "But you see, I have never
been satisfied or contented in captivity, I wanted nothing but to be
free."
"In other words, you were blind," remarked Alfred, smiling at Isaac.
"Yes, Alfred, was. And I imagine had you been in my place you would
have discovered the beauty and virtue of my Princess long before I
did. Nevertheless, please do not favor Myeerah with so many admiring
glances. She is not used to it. And that reminds me that I must
expect trouble tomorrow. All you fellows will want to kiss her."
"And Betty is going to be maid of honor. She, too, will have her
troubles," remarked Col. Zane.
"Think of that, Alfred," said Isaac "A chance to kiss the two
prettiest girls on the border--a chance of a lifetime."
"It is customary, is it not?" said Alfred coolly.
"Yes, it's a custom, if you can catch the girl," answered Col. Zane.
Betty's face flushed at Alfred's cool assumption. How dared he? In
spite of her will she could not resist the power that compelled her
to look at him. As plainly as if it were written there, she saw in
his steady blue eyes the light of a memory--the memory of a kiss.
And Betty dropped her head, her face burning, her heart on fire with
shame, and love, and regret.
"It'll be a good chance for me, too," said Wetzel. His remark
instantly turned attention to himself.
"The idea is absurd," said Isaac. "Why, Lew Wetzel, you could not be
made to kiss any girl."
"I would not be backward about it," said Col. Zane.
"You have forgotten the fuss you made when the boys were kissing
me," said Mrs. Zane with a fine scorn.
"My dear," said Col. Zane, in an aggrieved tone, "I did not make so
much of a fuss, as you call it, until they had kissed you a great
many times more than was reasonable."
"Isaac, tell us one thing more," said Capt. Boggs. "How did Myeerah
learn of your capture by Cornplanter? Surely she could not have
trailed you?"
"Will you tell us?" said Isaac to Myeerah.
"A bird sang it to me," answered Myeerah.
"She will never tell, that is certain," said Isaac. "And for that
reason I believe Simon Girty got word to her that I was in the hands
of Cornplanter. At the last moment when the Indians were lashing me
to the stake Girty came to me and said he must have been too late."
"Yes, Girty might have done that," said Col. Zane. "I suppose,
though he dared not interfere in behalf of poor Crawford."
"Isaac, Can you get Myeerah to talk? I love to hear her speak," said
Betty, in an aside.
"Myeerah, will you sing a Huron love-song?" said Isaac "Or, if you
do not wish to sing, tell a story. I want them to know how well you
can speak our language."
"What shall Myeerah say?" she said, shyly.
"Tell them the legend of the Standing Stone."
"A beautiful Indian girl once dwelt in the pine forests," began
Myeerah, with her eyes cast down and her hand seeking Isaac's. "Her
voice was like rippling waters, her beauty like the rising sun. From
near and from far came warriors to see the fair face of this maiden.
She smiled on them all and they called her Smiling Moon. Now there
lived on the Great Lake a Wyandot chief. He was young and bold. No
warrior was as great as Tarhe. Smiling Moon cast a spell on his
heart. He came many times to woo her and make her his wife. But
Smiling Moon said: 'Go, do great deeds, an come again.'
"Tarhe searched the east and the west. He brought her strange gifts
from strange lands. She said: 'Go and slay my enemies.' Tarhe went
forth in his war paint and killed the braves who named her Smiling
Moon. He came again to her and she said: 'Run swifter than the deer,
be more cunning than the beaver, dive deeper than the loon.'
"Tarhe passed once more to the island where dwelt Smiling Moon. The
ice was thick, the snow was deep. Smiling Moon turned not from her
warm fire as she said: 'The chief is a great warrior, but Smiling
Moon is not easily won. It is cold. Change winter into summer and
then Smiling Moon will love him.'
"Tarhe cried in a loud voice to the Great Spirit: 'Make me a
master.'
"A voice out of the forest answered: 'Tarhe, great warrior, wise
chief, waste not thy time, go back to thy wigwam.'
"Tarhe unheeding cried 'Tarhe wins or dies. Make him a master so
that he may drive the ice northward.'
"Stormed the wild tempest; thundered the rivers of ice; chill blew
the north wind, the cold northwest wind, against the mild south
wind; snow-spirits and hail-spirits fled before the warm raindrops;
the white mountains melted, and lo! it was summer.
"On the mountain top Tarhe waited for his bride. Never wearying,
ever faithful he watched many years. There he turned to stone. There
he stands to-day, the Standing Stone of ages. And Smiling Moon,
changed by the Great Spirit into the Night Wind, forever wails her
lament at dusk through the forest trees, and moans over the mountain
tops."
Myeerah's story elicited cheers and praises from all. She was
entreated to tell another, but smilingly shook her head. Now that
her shyness had worn off to some extent she took great interest in
the jest and the general conversation.
Col. Zane's fine old wine flowed like water. The custom was to fill
a guest's cup as soon as it was empty. Drinking much was rather
encouraged than otherwise. But Col. Zane never allowed this custom
to go too far in his house.
"Friends, the hour grows late," he said. "To-morrow, after the great
event, we shall have games, shooting matches, running races, and
contests of all kinds. Capt. Boggs and I have arranged to give
prizes, and I expect the girls can give something to lend a zest to
the competition."
"Will the girls have a chance in these races?" asked Isaac. "If so,
I should like to see Betty and Myeerah run."
"Betty can outrun any woman, red or white, on the border," said
Wetzel. "And she could make some of the men run their level best."
"Well, perhaps we shall give her one opportunity to-morrow,"
observed the Colonel. "She used to be good at running but it seems
to me that of late she has taken to books and--"
"Oh, Eb! that is untrue," interrupted Betty.
Col. Zane laughed and patted his sister's cheek. "Never mind,
Betty," and then, rising, he continued, "Now let us drink to the
bride and groom-to-be. Capt. Boggs, I call on you."
"We drink to the bride's fair beauty; we drink to the groom's good
luck," said Capt. Boggs, raising his cup.
"Do not forget the maid-of-honor," said Isaac.
"Yes, and the maid-of-honor. Mr. Clarke, will you say something
appropriate?" asked Col. Zane.
Rising, Clarke said: "I would be glad to speak fittingly on this
occasion, but I do not think I can do it justice. I believe as Col.
Zane does, that this Indian Princess is the first link in that chain
of peace which will some day unite the red men and the white men.
Instead of the White Crane she should be called the White Dove.
Gentlemen, rise and drink to her long life and happiness."
The toast was drunk. Then Clarke refilled his cup and holding it
high over his head he looked at Betty.
"Gentlemen, to the maid-of-honor. Miss Zane, your health, your
happiness, in this good old wine."
"I thank you," murmured Betty with downcast eyes. "I bid you all
good-night. Come, Myeerah."
Once more alone with Betty, the Indian girl turned to her with eyes
like twin stars.
"My sister has made me very happy," whispered Myeerah in her soft,
low voice. "Myeerah's heart is full."
"I believe you are happy, for I know you love Isaac dearly."
"Myeerah has always loved him. She will love his sister."
"And I will love you," said Betty. "I will love you because you have
saved him. Ah! Myeerah, yours has been wonderful, wonderful love."
"My sister is loved," whispered Myeerah. "Myeerah saw the look in
the eyes of the great hunter. It was the sad light of the moon on
the water. He loves you. And the other looked at my sister with eyes
like the blue of northern skies. He, too, loves you."
"Hush!" whispered Betty, trembling and hiding her face. "Hush!
Myeerah, do not speak of him."