The Zane Grey Megapack. Zane Grey
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I did not take the fur-trader’s advice in regard to the guide. But I was in such a hurry to come, and didn’t feel able to bear the expense of a raft or boat that we might come by river. My nephew brought considerable gold, and I all my earthly possessions.”
“All’s well that ends well,” replied Colonel Zane cheerily. “But we must thank Providence that Wetzel and Jonathan came up in the nick of time.”
“Indeed, yes. I’m not likely to forget those fierce savages. How they slipped off into the darkness! I wonder if Wetzel pursued them? He disappeared last night, and we did not see him again. In fact we hardly had a fair look at him. I question if I should recognize him now, unless by his great stature.”
“He was ahead of Jonathan on the trail. That is Wetzel’s way. In times of danger he is seldom seen, yet is always near. But come, let us go out and look around. I am running up a log cabin which will come in handy for you.”
They passed out into the shade of pine and maples. A winding path led down a gentle slope. On the hillside under a spreading tree a throng of bearded pioneers, clad in faded buckskins and wearing white-ringed coonskin caps, were erecting a log cabin.
“Life here on the border is keen, hard, invigorating,” said Colonel Zane. “I tell you, George Sheppard, in spite of your gray hair and your pretty daughter, you have come out West because you want to live among men who do things.”
“Colonel, I won’t gainsay I’ve still got hot blood,” replied Sheppard; “but I came to Fort Henry for land. My old home in Williamsburg has fallen into ruin together with the fortunes of my family. I brought my daughter and my nephew because I wanted them to take root in new soil.”
“Well, George, right glad we are to have you. Where are your sons? I remember them, though ’tis sixteen long years since I left old Williamsburg.”
“Gone. The Revolution took my sons. Helen is the last of the family.”
“Well, well, indeed that’s hard. Independence has cost you colonists as big a price as border-freedom has us pioneers. Come, old friend, forget the past. A new life begins for you here, and it will be one which gives you much. See, up goes a cabin; that will soon be your home.”
Sheppard’s eye marked the sturdy pioneers and a fast diminishing pile of white-oak logs.
“Ho-heave!” cried a brawny foreman.
A dozen stout shoulders sagged beneath a well-trimmed log.
“Ho-heave!” yelled the foreman.
“See, up she goes,” cried the colonel, “and tomorrow night she’ll shed rain.”
They walked down a sandy lane bounded on the right by a wide, green clearing, and on the left by a line of chestnuts and maples, outposts of the thick forests beyond.
“Yours is a fine site for a house,” observed Sheppard, taking in the clean-trimmed field that extended up the hillside, a brook that splashed clear and noisy over the stones to tarry in a little grass-bound lake which forced water through half-hollowed logs into a spring house.
“I think so; this is the fourth time I’ve put up a’ cabin on this land,” replied the colonel.
“How’s that?”
“The redskins are keen to burn things.”
Sheppard laughed at the pioneer’s reply. “It’s not difficult, Colonel Zane, to understand why Fort Henry has stood all these years, with you as its leader. Certainly the location for your cabin is the finest in the settlement. What a view!”
High upon a bluff overhanging the majestic, slow-winding Ohio, the colonel’s cabin afforded a commanding position from which to view the picturesque valley. Sheppard’s eye first caught the outline of the huge, bold, time-blackened fort which frowned protectingly over surrounding log-cabins; then he saw the wide-sweeping river with its verdant islands, golden, sandy bars, and willow-bordered shores, while beyond, rolling pastures of wavy grass merging into green forests that swept upward with slow swell until lost in the dim purple of distant mountains.
“Sixteen years ago I came out of the thicket upon yonder bluff, and saw this valley. I was deeply impressed by its beauty, but more by its wonderful promise.”
“Were you alone?”
“I and my dog. There had been a few white men before me on the river; but I was the first to see this glorious valley from the bluff. Now, George, I’ll let you have a hundred acres of well-cleared land. The soil is so rich you can raise two crops in one season. With some stock, and a few good hands, you’ll soon be a busy man.”
“I didn’t expect so much land; I can’t well afford to pay for it.”
“Talk to me of payment when the farm yields an income. Is this young nephew of yours strong and willing?”
“He is, and has gold enough to buy a big farm.”
“Let him keep his money, and make a comfortable home for some good lass. We marry our young people early out here. And your daughter, George, is she fitted for this hard border life?”
“Never fear for Helen.”
“The brunt of this pioneer work falls on our women. God bless them, how heroic they’ve been! The life here is rough for a man, let alone a woman. But it is a man’s game. We need girls, girls who will bear strong men. Yet I am always saddened when I see one come out on the border.”
“I think I knew what I was bringing Helen to, and she didn’t flinch,” said Sheppard, somewhat surprised at the tone in which the colonel spoke.
“No one knows until he has lived on the border. Well, well, all this is discouraging to you. Ah! here is Miss Helen with my sister.”
The colonel’s fine, dark face lost its sternness, and brightened with a smile.
“I hope you rested well after your long ride.”
“I am seldom tired, and I have been made most comfortable. I thank you and your sister,” replied the girl, giving Colonel Zane her hand, and including both him and his sister in her grateful glance.
The colonel’s sister was a slender, handsome young woman, whose dark beauty showed to most effective advantage by the contrast with her companion’s fair skin, golden hair, and blue eyes.
Beautiful as was Helen Sheppard, it was her eyes that held Colonel Zane irresistibly. They were unusually large, of a dark purple-blue that changed, shaded, shadowed with her every thought.
“Come, let us walk,” Colonel Zane said abruptly, and, with Mr. Sheppard, followed the girls down the path. He escorted them to the fort, showed a long room with little squares cut in the rough-hewn logs, many bullet holes, fire-charred timbers, and dark stains, terribly suggestive of the pain and heroism which the defense of that rude structure had cost.
Under Helen’s eager questioning Colonel Zane yielded to his weakness for story-telling, and recited the history of the last siege of Fort Henry; how the renegade Girty swooped down upon the settlement with hundreds of Indians and British soldiers; how for three days of whistling bullets, flaming arrows, screeching demons, fire, smoke, and attack following attack, the brave defenders stood at their posts, there to die before yielding.
“Grand!” breathed Helen, and her eyes glowed. “It was then Betty Zane ran with the powder? Oh! I’ve heard the story.”
“Let my sister tell you of that,” said the colonel, smiling.
“You! Was it you?” And Helen’s eyes glowed brighter with the light of youth’s glory in great deeds.
“My sister has been wedded and widowed since then,” said Colonel Zane, reading in Helen’s earnest scrutiny of his sister’s calm, sad face a wonder if this quiet woman could be the fearless and famed Elizabeth Zane.
Impulsively Helen’s hand closed softly over her companion’s. Out of the girlish sympathetic action a warm