The Zane Grey Megapack. Zane Grey
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“Well, you used to be different somehow,” said her brother, as he patted her hand.
“Do you mean I am more thoughtful?”
“Yes, and sometimes you seem sad.”
“I have tried to be brave and—and happy,” said Betty, her voice trembling slightly.
“Yes, yes, I know you have, Betty. You have done wonderfully well here in this dead place. But tell me, don’t be angry, don’t you think too much of someone?”
“You have no right to ask me that,” said Betty, flushing and turning away toward the stairway.
“Well, well, child, don’t mind me. I did not mean anything. There, good night, Betty.”
Long after she had gone upstairs Col. Zane sat by his fireside. From time to time he sighed. He thought of the old Virginia home and of the smile of his mother. It seemed only a few short years since he had promised her that he would take care of the baby sister. How had he kept that promise made when Betty was a little thing bouncing on his knee? It seemed only yesterday. How swift the flight of time! Already Betty was a woman; her sweet, gay girlhood had passed; already a shadow had fallen on her face, the shadow of a secret sorrow.
* * * *
March with its blustering winds had departed, and now April’s showers and sunshine were gladdening the hearts of the settlers. Patches of green freshened the slopes of the hills; the lilac bushes showed tiny leaves, and the maple-buds were bursting. Yesterday a blue-bird—surest harbinger of spring—had alighted on the fence-post and had sung his plaintive song. A few more days and the blossoms were out mingling their pink and white with the green; the red-bud, the hawthorne, and the dog-wood were in bloom, checkering the hillsides.
“Bessie, spring is here,” said Col. Zane, as he stood in the doorway. “The air is fresh, the sun shines warm, the birds are singing; it makes me feel good.”
“Yes, it is pleasant to have spring with us again,” answered his wife. “I think, though, that in winter I am happier. In summer I am always worried. I am afraid for the children to be out of my sight, and when you are away on a hunt I am distraught until you are home safe.”
“Well, if the redskins let us alone this summer it will be something new,” he said, laughing. “By the way, Bess, some new people came to the fort last night. They rafted down from the Monongahela settlements. Some of the women suffered considerably. I intend to offer them the cabin on the hill until they can cut the timber and run up a house. Sam said the cabin roof leaked and the chimney smoked, but with a little work I think they can be made more comfortable there than at the block-house.”
“It is the only vacant cabin in the settlement. I can accommodate the women folks here.”
“Well, we’ll see about it. I don’t want you and Betty inconvenienced. I’ll send Sam up to the cabin and have him fix things up a bit and make it more habitable.”
The door opened, admitting Col. Zane’s elder boy. The lad’s face was dirty, his nose was all bloody, and a big bruise showed over his right eye.
“For the land’s sake!” exclaimed his mother. “Look at the boy. Noah, come here. What have you been doing?”
Noah crept close to his mother and grasping her apron with both hands hid his face. Mrs. Zane turned the boy around and wiped his discolored features with a wet towel. She gave him a little shake and said: “Noah, have you been fighting again?”
“Let him go and I’ll tell you about it,” said the Colonel, and when the youngster had disappeared he continued: “Right after breakfast Noah went with me down to the mill. I noticed several children playing in front of Reihart’s blacksmith shop. I went in, leaving Noah outside. I got a plow-share which I had left with Reihart to be repaired. He came to the door with me and all at once he said: ‘look at the kids.’ I looked and saw Noah walk up to a boy and say something to him. The lad was a stranger, and I have no doubt belongs to these new people I told you about. He was bigger than Noah. At first the older boy appeared very friendly and evidently wanted to join the others in their game. I guess Noah did not approve of this, for after he had looked the stranger over he hauled away and punched the lad soundly. To make it short the strange boy gave Noah the worst beating he ever got in his life. I told Noah to come straight to you and confess.”
“Well, did you ever!” ejaculated Mrs. Zane. “Noah is a bad boy. And you stood and watched him fight. You are laughing about it now. Ebenezer Zane, I would not put it beneath you to set Noah to fighting. I know you used to make the little niggers fight. Anyway, it serves Noah right and I hope it will be a lesson to him.”
“I’ll make you a bet, Bessie,” said the Colonel, with another laugh. “I’ll bet you that unless we lock him up, Noah will fight that boy every day or every time he meets him.”
“I won’t bet,” said Mrs. Zane, with a smile of resignation.
“Where’s Betts? I haven’t seen her this morning. I am going over to Short Creek tomorrow or next day, and think I’ll take her with me. You know I am to get a commission to lay out several settlements along the river, and I want to get some work finished at Short Creek this spring. Mrs. Raymer’ll be delighted to have Betty. Shall I take her?”
“By all means. A visit there will brighten her up and do her good.”
“Well, what on earth have you been doing?” cried the Colonel. His remark had been called forth by a charming vision that had entered by the open door. Betty—for it was she—wore a little red cap set jauntily on her black hair. Her linsey dress was crumpled and covered with hayseed.
“I’ve been in the hay-mow,” said Betty, waving a small basket. “For a week that old black hen has circumvented me, but at last I have conquered. I found the nest in the farthest corner under the hay.”
“How did you get up in the loft?” inquired Mrs. Zane.
“Bessie, I climbed up the ladder of course. I acknowledge being unusually light-hearted and happy this morning, but I have not as yet grown wings. Sam said I could not climb up that straight ladder, but I found it easy enough.”
“You should not climb up into the loft,” said Mrs. Zane, in a severe tone. “Only last fall Hugh Bennet’s little boy slid off the hay down into one of the stalls and the horse kicked him nearly to death.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks, Bessie, I am not a baby,” said Betty, with vehemence. “There is not a horse in the barn but would stand on his hind legs before he would step on me, let alone kick me.”
“I don’t know, Betty, but I think that black horse Mr. Clarke left here would kick any one,” remarked the Colonel.
“Oh, no, he would not hurt me.”
“Betty, we have had pleasant weather for about three days,” said the Colonel, gravely. “In that time you have let out that crazy bear of yours to turn everything topsy-turvy. Only yesterday I got my hands in the paint you have put on your canoe. If you had asked my advice I would have told you that painting your canoe should not have been done for a month yet. Silas told me you fell down the creek hill; Sam said you tried to drive his team over the bluff, and so on. We are happy to see you get back your old time spirits, but could you not be a little more careful? Your versatility is bewildering. We do not know what to look for next. I fully expect to see you brought to the house some day maimed for life, or all that beautiful black hair gone to decorate some Huron’s lodge.”
“I tell you I am perfectly delighted that the weather is again so I can go out. I am tired to death of staying indoors. This morning I could have cried for very joy. Bessie will soon be lecturing me about Madcap. I must not ride farther than the fort. Well, I don’t care. I intend to ride all over.”
“Betty, I do not wish you to think I am lecturing you,” said the Colonel’s wife. “But you are as wild as a March hare and someone must tell you things. Now listen. My brother, the Major, told me that Simon Girty, the