betty zane-第48节

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〃You　think　I　hadn't　ought　to　speak　to　him　of　you？〃

〃I　do　not　see　why　you　should。　Of　course　you　are　my　good　friend；　but　he　it　is　not　like　you　to　speak　of　me。〃

〃Fer　once　I　don't　agree　with　you。　I　knew　how　it　was　with　him　so　I　told　him。　I　knew　how　it　was　with　you　so　I　told　him；　and　I　know　how　it　is　with　me；　so　I　told　him　that　too。〃

〃With　you？〃　whispered　Betty。

〃Yes；　with　me。　That　kind　of　gives　me　a　right；　don't　it；　considerin'　it's　all　fer　your　happiness？〃

〃With　you？〃　echoed　Betty　in　a　low　tone。　She　was　beginning　to　realize　that　she　had　not　known　this　man。　She　looked　up　at　him。　His　eyes　were　misty　with　an　unutterable　sadness。

〃Oh；　no！　No！　Lew。　Say　it　is　not　true；〃　she　cried；　piteously。　All　in　a　moment　Betty's　burdens　became　too　heavy　for　her。　She　wrung　her　little　hands。　Her　brother's　kindly　advice；　Bessie's　warnings；　and　old　Grandmother　Watkins'　words　came　back　to　her。　For　the　first　time　she　believed　what　they　saidthat　Wetzel　loved　her。　All　at　once　the　scales　fell　from　her　eyes　and　she　saw　this　man　as　he　really　was。　All　the　thousand　and　one　things　he　had　done　for　her；　his　simple　teaching；　his　thoughtfulness；　his　faithfulness；　and　his　watchful　protectionall　came　crowding　on　her　as　debts　that　she　could　never　pay。　For　now　what　could　she　give　this　man　to　whom　she　owed　more　than　her　life？　Nothing。　It　was　too　late。　Her　love　could　have　reclaimed　him；　could　have　put　an　end　to　that　solitary　wandering；　and　have　made　him　a　good；　happy　man。

〃Yes；　Betty；　it's　time　to　tell　it。　I've　loved　you　always；〃　he　said　softly。

She　covered　her　face　and　sobbed。　Wetzel　put　his　arm　round　her　and　drew　her　to　him　until　the　dark　head　rested　on　his　shoulder。　Thus　they　stood　a　moment。

〃Don't　cry；　little　one；〃　he　said；　tenderly。　〃Don't　grieve　fer　me。　My　love　fer　you　has　been　the　only　good　in　my　life。　It's　been　happiness　to　love　you。　Don't　think　of　me。　I　can　see　you　and　Alfred　in　a　happy　home；　surrounded　by　bright…eyed　children。　There'll　be　a　brave　lad　named　fer　me；　and　when　I　come；　if　I　ever　do；　I'll　tell　him　stories；　and　learn　him　the　secrets　of　the　woods；　and　how　to　shoot；　and　things　I　know　so　well。〃

〃I　am　so　wretchedso　miserable。　To　think　I　have　been　soso　blind；　and　I　have　teased　youandit　might　have　beenonly　now　it's　too　late；〃　said　Betty；　between　her　sobs。

〃Yes；　I　know；　and　it's　better　so。　This　man　you　love　rings　true。　He　has　learnin'　and　edication。　I　have　nothin'　but　muscle　and　a　quick　eye。　And　that'll　serve　you　and　Alfred　when　you　are　in　danger。　I'm　goin'　now。　Stand　here　till　I'm　out　of　sight。〃

〃Kiss　me　goodbye；〃　whispered　Betty。

The　hunter　bent　his　head　and　kissed　her　on　the　brow。　Then　he　turned　and　with　a　rapid　step　went　along　the　bluff　toward　the　west。　When　he　reached　the　laurel　bushes　which　fringed　the　edge　of　the　forest　he　looked　back。　He　saw　the　slender　gray　clad　figure　standing　motionless　in　the　narrow　path。　He　waved　his　hand　and　then　turned　and　plunged　into　the　forest。　The　dog　looked　back；　raised　his　head　and　gave　a　long；　mournful　howl。　Then；　he　too　disappeared。

A　mile　west　of　the　settlement　Wetzel　abandoned　the　forest　and　picked　his　way　down　the　steep　bluff　to　the　river。　Here　he　prepared　to　swim　to　the　western　shore。　He　took　off　his　buckskin　garments；　spread　them　out　on　the　ground；　placed　his　knapsack　in　the　middle；　and　rolling　all　into　a　small　bundle　tied　it　round　his　rifle。　Grasping　the　rifle　just　above　the　hammer　he　waded　into　the　water　up　to　his　waist　and　then；　turning　easily　on　his　back　he　held　the　rifle　straight　up；　allowing　the　butt　to　rest　on　his　breast。　This　left　his　right　arm　unhampered。　With　a　powerful　back…arm　stroke　he　rapidly　swam　the　river；　which　was　deep　and　narrow　at　this　point。　In　a　quarter　of　an　hour　he　was　once　more　in　his　dry　suit。

He　was　now　two　miles　below　the　island；　where　yesterday　the　Indians　had　been　concealed；　and　where　this　morning　Miller　had　crossed。　Wetzel　knew　Miller　expected　to　be　trailed；　and　that　he　would　use　every　art　and　cunning　of　woodcraft　to　elude　his　pursuers；　or　to　lead　them　into　a　death…trap。　Wetzel　believed　Miller　had　joined　the　Indians；　who　had　undoubtedly　been　waiting　for　him；　or　for　a　signal　from　him；　and　that　he　would　use　them　to　ambush　the　trail。

Therefore　Wetzel　decided　he　would　try　to　strike　Miller's　tracks　far　west　of　the　river。　He　risked　a　great　deal　in　attempting　this　because　it　was　possible　he　might　fail　to　find　any　trace　of　the　spy。　But　Wetzel　wasted　not　one　second。　His　course　was　chosen。　With　all　possible　speed；　which　meant　with　him　walking　only　when　he　could　not　run；　he　traveled　northwest。　If　Miller　had　taken　the　direction　Wetzel　suspected；　the　trails　of　the　two　men　would　cross　about　ten　miles　from　the　Ohio。　But　the　hunter　had　not　traversed　more　than　a　mile　of　the　forest　when　the　dog　put　his　nose　high　in　the　air　and　growled。　Wetzel　slowed　down　into　a　walk　and　moved　cautiously　onward；　peering　through　the　green　aisles　of　the　woods。　A　few　rods　farther　on　Tige　uttered　another　growl　and　put　his　nose　to　the　ground。　He　found　a　trail。　On　examination　Wetzel　discovered　in　the　moss　two　moccasin　tracks。　Two　Indians　had　passed　that　point　that　morning。　They　were　going　northwest　directly　toward　the　camp　of　Wingenund。　Wetzel　stuck　close　to　the　trail　all　that　day　and　an　hour　before　dusk　he　heard　the　sharp　crack　of　a　rifle。　A　moment　afterward　a　doe　came　crashing　through　the　thicket　to　Wetzel's　right　and　bounding　across　a　little　brook　she　disappeared。

A　tree　with　a　bushy；　leafy　top　had　been　uprooted　by　a　storm　and　had　fallen　across　the　stream　at　this　point。　Wetzel　crawled　among　the　branches。　The　dog　followed　and　lay　down　beside　him。　Before　darkness　set　in　Wetzel　saw　that　the　clear　water　of　the　brook　had　been　roiled；　therefore；　he　concluded　that　somewhere　upstream　Indians　had　waded　into　the　brook。　Probably　they　had　killed　a　deer　and　were　getting　their　evening　meal。

Hours　passed。　Twilight　deepened　into　darkness。　One　by　one　the　stars　appeared；　then　the　crescent　moon　rose　over　the　wooded　hill　in　the　west；　and　the　hunter　never　moved。　With　his　head　leaning　against　the　log　he　sat　quiet　and　patient。　At　midnight　he　whispered　to　the　dog；　and　crawling　from　his　hiding　place　glided　stealthily　up　the　stream。　Far　ahead　from　the　dark　depths　of　the　forest　peeped　the　flickering　light　of　a　camp…fire。　Wetzel　consumed　a　half　hour　in　approaching　within　one　hundred　feet　of　this　light。　Then　he　got　down　on　his　hands　and　knees　and　crawled　behind　a　tree　on　top　of　the　little　ridge　which　had　obstructed　a　view　of　the　camp　scene。

From　this　vantage　point　Wetzel　saw　a　clear　space　surrounded　by　pines　and　hemlocks。　In　the　center　of　this　glade　a　fire　burned　briskly。　Two　Indians　lay　wrapped　in　their　blankets；　sound　asleep。　Wetzel　pressed　the　dog　close　to　the　ground；　laid　aside　his　rifle；　drew　his　tomahawk；　and　lying　flat　on　his　breast　commenced　to　work　his　way；　inch　by　inch；　toward　the　sleeping　savages。　The　tall　ferns　trembled　as　the　hunter　wormed　his　way　among　them；　but　there　was　no　sound；　not　a　snapping　of　a　twig　nor　a　rustling　of　a　leaf。　The　nightwind　sighed　softly　through　the　pines；　it　blew　the　bright　sparks　from　the　burning　logs；　and　fanned　the　embers　into　a　red　glow；　it　swept　caressingly　over　the　sleeping　savages；　but　it　could　not　warn　them　that　another　wind；　the　Wind…of…Death；　as　near　at　hand。

A　quarter　of　an　hour　elapsed。　Nearer　and　nearer；　slowly　but　surely　drew　the　hunter。　With　what　wonderful　patience　and　self…control　did　this　cold…blooded　Nemesis　approach　his　victims！　Probably　any　other　Indian　slayer　would　have　fired　his　rifle　and　then　rushed　to　combat　with　a　knife　or　a　tomahawk。　Not　so　Wetzel。　He　scorned　to　use　powder。　He　crept　forward　like　a　snake　gliding　upon　its　prey。　He　slid　one　hand　in　front　of　him　and　pressed　it　down　on　the　moss；　at　first　gently；　then　firmly；　and　when　he　had　secured　a　good　hold　he　slowly　dragged　his　body　forward　the　length　of　his　arm。　At　last　his　dark　form　rose　and　stood　over　the　unconscious　Indians；　like　a　minister　of　Doom。　The　tomahawk　flashed　once；　twice　in　the　firelight；　and　the　Indians；　without　a　moan；　and　with　a　convulsive　quivering　and　straightening　of　their　bodies；　passed　from　the　tired　sleep　of　nature　to　the　eternal　sleep　of　death。

Foregoing　his　usual　custom　of　taking　the　scalps；　Wetzel　hurriedly　left　the　glade。　He　had　found　that　the　Indians　were　Shawnees　and　he　had　expected　they　were　Delawares。　He　knew　Miller's　red　comrades　belonged　to　the　latter　tribe。　The　presence　of　Shawnees　so　near　the　settlement　confirmed　his　belief　that　a　concerted　movement　was　to　be　made　on　the　whites　in　the　near　future。　He　would　not　have　been　surprised　to　find　the　woods　full　of　redskins。　He　spent　the　remainder　of　that　night　close　under　the　side　of　a　log　with　the　dog　curled　up　beside　him。

Next　morning　Wetzel　ran　across　the　trail　of　a　white　man　and　six　Indians。　He　tracked　them　all　that　day　and　half　of　the　night　before　he　again　rested。　By　noon　of　the　following　day　he　came　in　sight　of　the　cliff　from　which　Jonathan　Zane　had　watched　the　sufferings　of　Col。　Crawford。　Wetzel　now　made　his　favorite　move；　a　wide　detour；　and　came　up　on　the　other　side　of　the　encampment。

From　the　top　of　the　bluff　he　saw　down　into　the　village　of　the　Delawares。　The　valley　was　alive　with　Indians；　they　were　working　like　beavers；　some　with　weapons；　some　painting　themselves；　and　others　dancing　war…dances。　Pa