The Zane Grey Megapack. Zane Grey
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to be anything but well behaved. If it rains a few days more I shall become desperate. I want to ride my pony, roam the woods, paddle my canoe, and enjoy myself,” said Elizabeth.
“Well! Well! Betts, I knew it would be dull here for you, but you must not get discouraged. You know you got here late last fall, and have not had any pleasant weather yet. It is perfectly delightful in May and June. I can take you to fields of wild white honeysuckle and May flowers and wild roses. I know you love the woods, so be patient a little longer.”
Elizabeth had been spoiled by her brothers—what girl would not have been by five great big worshippers?—and any trivial thing gone wrong with her was a serious matter to them. They were proud of her, and of her beauty and accomplishments were never tired of talking. She had the dark hair and eyes so characteristic of the Zanes; the same oval face and fine features: and added to this was a certain softness of contour and a sweetness of expression which made her face bewitching. But, in spite of that demure and innocent face, she possessed a decided will of her own, and one very apt to be asserted; she was mischievous; inclined to coquettishness, and more terrible than all she had a fiery temper which could be aroused with the most surprising ease.
Colonel Zane was wont to say that his sister’s accomplishments were innumerable. After only a few months on the border she could prepare the flax and weave a linsey dresscloth with admirable skill. Sometimes to humor Betty the Colonel’s wife would allow her to get the dinner, and she would do it in a manner that pleased her brothers, and called forth golden praises from the cook, old Sam’s wife who had been with the family twenty years. Betty sang in the little church on Sundays; she organized and taught a Sunday school class; she often beat Colonel Zane and Major McColloch at their favorite game of checkers, which they had played together since they were knee high; in fact, Betty did nearly everything well, from baking pies to painting the birch bark walls of her room. But these things were insignificant in Colonel Zane’s eyes. If the Colonel were ever guilty of bragging it was about his sister’s ability in those acquirements demanding a true eye, a fleet foot, a strong arm and a daring spirit. He had told all the people in the settlement, to many of whom Betty was unknown, that she could ride like an Indian and shoot with undoubted skill; that she had a generous share of the Zanes’ fleetness of foot, and that she would send a canoe over as bad a place as she could find. The boasts of the Colonel remained as yet unproven, but, be that as it may, Betty had, notwithstanding her many faults, endeared herself to all. She made sunshine and happiness everywhere; the old people loved her; the children adored her, and the broad shouldered, heavy footed young settlers were shy and silent, yet blissfully happy in her presence.
“Betty, will you fill my pipe?” asked the Colonel, when he had finished his supper and had pulled his big chair nearer the fire. His oldest child, Noah, a sturdy lad of six, climbed upon his knee and plied him with questions.
“Did you see any bars and bufflers?” he asked, his eyes large and round.
“No, my lad, not one.”
“How long will it be until I am big enough to go?”
“Not for a very long time, Noah.”
“But I am not afraid of Betty’s bar. He growls at me when I throw sticks at him, and snaps his teeth. Can I go with you next time?”
“My brother came over from Short Creek today. He has been to Fort Pitt,” interposed Mrs. Zane. As she was speaking a tap sounded on the door, which, being opened by Betty, disclosed Captain Boggs his daughter Lydia, and Major Samuel McColloch, the brother of Mrs. Zane.
“Ah, Colonel! I expected to find you at home tonight. The weather has been miserable for hunting and it is not getting any better. The wind is blowing from the northwest and a storm is coming,” said Captain Boggs, a fine, soldierly looking man.
“Hello, Captain! How are you? Sam, I have not had the pleasure of seeing you for a long time,” replied Colonel Zane, as he shook hands with his guests.
Major McColloch was the eldest of the brothers of that name. As an Indian killer he ranked next to the intrepid Wetzel; but while Wetzel preferred to take his chances alone and track the Indians through the untrodden wilds, McColloch was a leader of expeditions against the savages. A giant in stature, massive in build, bronzed and bearded, he looked the typical frontiersman. His blue eyes were like those of his sister and his voice had the same pleasant ring.
“Major McColloch, do you remember me?” asked Betty.
“Indeed I do,” he answered, with a smile. “You were a little girl, running wild, on the Potomac when I last saw you!”
“Do you remember when you used to lift me on your horse and give me lessons in riding?”
“I remember better than you. How you used to stick on the back of that horse was a mystery to me.”
“Well, I shall be ready soon to go on with those lessons in riding. I have heard of your wonderful leap over the hill and I should like to have you tell me all about it. Of all the stories I have heard since I arrived at Fort Henry, the one of your ride and leap for life is the most wonderful.”
“Yes, Sam, she will bother you to death about that ride, and will try to give you lessons in leaping down precipices. I should not be at all surprised to find her trying to duplicate your feat. You know the Indian pony I got from that fur trader last summer. Well, he is as wild as a deer and she has been riding him without his being broken,” said Colonel Zane.
“Some other time I shall tell you about my jump over the hill. Just now I have important matters to discuss,” answered the Major to Betty.
It was evident that something unusual had occurred, for after chatting a few moments the three men withdrew into the magazine room and conversed in low, earnest tones.
Lydia Boggs was eighteen, fair haired and blue eyed. Like Betty she had received a good education, and, in that respect, was superior to the border girls, who seldom knew more than to keep house and to make linen. At the outbreak of the Indian wars General Clark had stationed Captain Boggs at Fort Henry and Lydia had lived there with him two years. After Betty’s arrival, which she hailed with delight, the girls had become fast friends.
Lydia slipped her arm affectionately around Betty’s neck and said, “Why did you not come over to the Fort today?”
“It has been such an ugly day, so disagreeable altogether, that I have remained indoors.”
“You missed something,” said Lydia, knowingly.
“What do you mean? What did I miss?”
“Oh, perhaps, after all, it will not interest you.”
“How provoking! Of course it will. Anything or anybody would interest me tonight. Do tell me, please.”
“It isn’t much. Only a young soldier came over with Major McColloch.”
“A soldier? From Fort Pitt? Do I know him? I have met most of the officers.”
“No, you have never seen him. He is a stranger to all of us.”
“There does not seem to be so much in your news,” said Betty, in a disappointed tone. “To be sure, strangers are a rarity in our little village, but, judging from the strangers who have visited us in the past, I imagine this one cannot be much different.”
“Wait until you see him,” said Lydia, with a serious little nod of her head.
“Come, tell me all about him,” said Betty, now much interested.
“Major McColloch brought him in to see papa, and he was introduced to me. He is a southerner and from one of those old families. I could tell by his cool, easy, almost reckless air. He is handsome, tall and fair, and his face is frank and open. He has such beautiful manners. He bowed low to me and really I felt so embarrassed that I hardly spoke. You know I am used to these big hunters seizing your hand and giving it a squeeze which makes you want to scream. Well, this young man is different. He is a cavalier. All the girls are in love with him already. So will you be.”
“I?