the spirit of the border-第36节

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way　through　the　thicket；　carefully；　yet　swiftly；　because　he　knew　there　was　no

time　to　lose。　Finally　the　rear　of　the　cabin　stood　in　front　of　him。



It　was　made　of　logs；　rudely　hewn；　and　as　rudely　thrown　together。　In　several

places　clay　had　fallen　from　chinks　between　the　timbers；　leaving　small　holes。

Like　a　snake　Joe　slipped　close　to　the　hut。　Raising　his　head　he　looked　through

one　of　the　cracks。



Instantly　he　shrank　back　into　the　grass；　shivering　with　horror。　He　almost

choked　in　his　attempt　to　prevent　an　outcry。







Chapter　XVIII。



The　sight　which　Joe　had　seen　horrified　him；　for　several　moments；　into　helpless

inaction。　He　lay　breathing　heavily；　impotent；　in　an　awful　rage。　　As　he

remained　there　stunned　by　the　shock；　he　gazed　up　through　the　open　space　in　the

leaves；　trying　to　still　his　fury；　to　realize　the　situation；　to　make　no　hasty

move。　The　soft　blue　of　the　sky；　the　fleecy　clouds　drifting　eastward；　the

fluttering　leaves　and　the　twittering　birdsall　assured　him　he　was　wide　awake。

He　had　found　Girty's　den　where　so　many　white　women　had　been　hidden；　to　see

friends　and　home　no　more。　He　had　seen　the　renegade　sleeping；　calmly　sleeping

like　any　other　man。　How　could　the　wretch　sleep！　He　had　seen　Kate。　It　had　been

the　sight　of　her　that　had　paralyzed　him。　To　make　a　certainty　of　his　fears；　he

again　raised　himself　to　peep　into　the　hole。　As　he　did　so　a　faint　cry　came　from

within。



Girty　lay　on　a　buffalo　robe　near　a　barred　door。　Beyond　him　sat　Kate；　huddled

in　one　corner　of　the　cabin。　A　long　buckskin　thong　was　knotted　round　her　waist；

and　tied　to　a　log。　Her　hair　was　matted　and　tangled；　and　on　her　face　and　arms

were　many　discolored　bruises。　Worse　still；　in　her　plaintive　moaning；　in　the

meaningless　movement　of　her　head；　in　her　vacant　expression；　was　proof　that　her

mind　had　gone。　She　was　mad。　Even　as　an　agonizing　pity　came　over　Joe；　to　be

followed　by　the　surging　fire　of　rage；　blazing　up　in　his　breast；　he　could　not

but　thank　God　that　she　was　mad！　It　was　merciful　that　Kate　was　no　longer

conscious　of　her　suffering。



Like　leaves　in　a　storm　wavered　Joe's　hands　as　he　clenched　them　until　the　nails

brought　blood。　〃Be　calm；　be　cool；〃　whispered　his　monitor；　Wetzel；　ever　with

him　in　spirit。　But　God！　Could　he　be　cool？　Bounding　with　lion…spring　he　hurled

his　heavy　frame　against　the　door。



Crash！　The　door　was　burst　from　its　fastenings。



Girty　leaped　up　with　startled　yell；　drawing　his　knife　as　he　rose。　It　had　not

time　to　descend　before　Joe's　second　spring；　more　fierce　even　than　the　other；

carried　him　directly　on　top　of　the　renegade。　As　the　two　went　down　Joe　caught

the　villain's　wrist　with　a　grip　that　literally　cracked　the　bones。　The　knife

fell　and　rolled　away　from　the　struggling　men。　For　an　instant　they　tumbled

about　on　the　floor；　clasped　in　a　crushing　embrace。　　The　renegade　was　strong；

supple；　slippery　as　an　eel。　Twice　he　wriggled　from　his　foe。　Gnashing　his

teeth；　he　fought　like　a　hyena。　He　was　fighting　for　lifelife；　which　is　never

so　dear　as　to　a　coward　and　a　murderer。　　Doom　glared　from　Joe's　big　eyes；　and

scream　after　scream　issued　from　the　renegade's　white　lips。



Terrible　was　this　struggle；　but　brief。　Joe　seemingly　had　the　strength　of　ten

men。　Twice　he　pulled　Girty　down　as　a　wolf　drags　a　deer。　He　dashed　him　against

the　wall；　throwing　him　nearing　and　nearer　the　knife。　Once　within　reach　of　the

blade　Joe　struck　the　renegade　a　severe　blow　on　the　temple　and　the　villain's

wrestling　became　weaker。　Planting　his　heavy　knee　on　Girty's　breast；　Joe

reached　for　the　knife；　and　swung　it　high。　Exultantly　he　cried；　mad　with　lust

for　the　brute's　blood。



But　the　slight　delay　saved　Girty's　life。



The　knife　was　knocked　from　Joe's　hand　and　he　leaped　erect　to　find　himself

confronted　by　Silvertip。　The　chief　held　a　tomahawk　with　which　he　had　struck

the　weapon　from　the　young　man's　grasp；　and；　to　judge　from　his　burning　eyes　and

malignant　smile；　he　meant　to　brain　the　now　defenseless　paleface。



In　a　single　fleeting　instant　Joe　saw　that　Girty　was　helpless　for　the　moment；

that　Silvertip　was　confident　of　his　revenge；　and　that　the　situation　called　for

Wetzel's　characteristic　advice；　〃act　like　lightnin'。〃



Swifter　than　the　thought　was　the　leap　he　made　past　Silvertip。　It　carried　him

to　a　wooden　bar　which　lay　on　the　floor。　Escape　was　easy；　for　the　door　was

before　him　and　the　Shawnee　behind；　but　Joe　did　not　flee！　He　seized　the　bar　and

rushed　at　the　Indian。　Then　began　a　duel　in　which　the　savage's　quickness　and

cunning　matched　the　white　man's　strength　and　fury。　　Silvertip　dodged　the

vicious　swings　Joe　aimed　at　him；　he　parried　many　blows；　any　one　of　which　would

have　crushed　his　skull。　Nimble　as　a　cat；　he　avoided　every　rush；　while　his　dark

eyes　watched　for　an　opening。　He　fought　wholly　on　the　defensive；　craftily

reserving　his　strength　until　his　opponent　should　tire。



At　last；　catching　the　bar　on　his　hatchet；　he　broke　the　force　of　the　blow；　and

then；　with　agile　movement；　dropped　to　the　ground　and　grappled　Joe's　legs。　Long

before　this　he　had　drawn　his　knife；　and　now　he　used　it；　plunging　the　blade

into　the　young　man's　side。



Cunning　and　successful　as　was　the　savage's　ruse；　it　failed　signally；　for　to

get　hold　of　the　Shawnee　was　all　Joe　wanted。　Feeling　the　sharp　pain　as　they

fell　together；　he　reached　his　hand　behind　him　and　caught　Silvertip's　wrist。　

Exerting　all　his　power；　he　wrenched　the　Indian's　arm　so　that　it　was　not　only

dislocated；　but　the　bones　cracked。



Silvertip　saw　his　fatal　mistake；　but　he　uttered　no　sound。　Crippled；　though　he

was；　he　yet　made　a　supreme　effort；　but　it　was　as　if　he　had　been　in　the　hands

of　a　giant。　The　lad　handled　him　with　remorseless　and　resistless　fury。　Suddenly

he　grasped　the　knife；　which　Silvertip　had　been　unable　to　hold　with　his

crippled　hand；　and　thrust　it　deeply　into　the　Indian's　side。



All　Silvertip's　muscles　relaxed　as　if　a　strong　tension　had　been　removed。　

Slowly　his　legs　straightened；　his　arms　dropped；　and　from　his　side　gushed　a

dark　flood。　A　shadow　crept　over　his　face；　not　dark　nor　white；　but　just　a

shadow。　His　eyes　lost　their　hate；　they　no　longer　saw　the　foe；　they　looked

beyond　with　gloomy　question；　and　then　were　fixed　cold　in　death。　Silvertip　died

as　he　had　liveda　chief。



Joe　glared　round　for　Girty。　He　was　gone；　having　slipped　away　during　the　fight。

The　lad　turned　to　release　the　poor　prisoner；　when　he　started　back　with　a　cry

of　fear。　Kate　lay　bathed　in　a　pool　of　blooddead。　The　renegade；　fearing　she

might　be　rescued；　had　murdered　her；　and　then　fled　from　the　cabin。



Almost　blinded　by　horror；　and　staggering　with　weakness；　Joe　turned　to　leave

the　cabin。　Realizing　that　he　was　seriously；　perhaps　dangerously；　wounded　he

wisely　thought　he　must　not　leave　the　place　without　weapons。　He　had　marked　the

pegs　where　the　renegade's　rifle　hung；　and　had　been　careful　to　keep　between

that　and　his　enemies。　He　took　down　the　gun　and　horns；　which　were　attached　to

it；　and；　with　one　last　shuddering　glance　at　poor　Kate；　left　the　place。



He　was　conscious　of　a　queer　lightness　in　his　head；　but　he　suffered　no　pain。　

His　garments　were　dripping　with　blood。　He　did　not　know　how　much　of　it　was　his；

or　the　Indian's。　Instinct　rather　than　sight　was　his　guide。　He　grew　weaker　and

weaker；　his　head　began　to　whirl；　yet　he　kept　on；　knowing　that　life　and　freedom

were　his　if　he　found　Whispering　Winds。　He　gained　the　top　of　the　ridge；　his

eyes　were　blurred；　his　strength　gone。　He　called　aloud；　and　then　plunged

forward　on　his　face。　He　heard　dimly；　as　though　the　sound　were　afar　off；　the

whine　of　a　dog。　He　felt　something　soft　and　wet　on　his　face。　Then　consciousness

left　him。



When　he　regained　his　senses　he　was　lying　on　a　bed　of　ferns　under　a　projecting

rock。　He　heard　the　gurgle　of　running　water　mingling　with　the　song　of　birds。

Near　him　lay　Mose；　and　beyond　rose　a　wall　of　green　thicket。　Neither　Whispering

Winds　nor　his　horse　was　visible。



He　felt　a　dreamy　lassitude。　He　was　tired；　but　had　no　pain。　Finding　he　could

move　without　difficulty；　he　concluded　his　weakness　was　more　from　loss　of　blood

than　a　dangerous　wound。　He　put　his　hand　on　the　place　where　he　had　been

stabbed；　and　felt　a　soft；　warm　compress　such　as　might　have　been　made　by　a

bunch　of　wet　leaves。　Some　one　had　unlaced　his　hunting…shirtfor　he　saw　the

strings　were　not　as　he　usually　tied　themand　had　dressed　the　wound。　Joe

decided；　after　some　deliberation；　that　Whispering　Winds　had　found　him；　made

him　as　comfortable　as　possible；　and；　leaving　Mose　on　guard；　had　gone　out　to

hunt　for　food；　or　perhaps　back　to　the　Indian　encampment。　The　rifle　and　horns

he　had　taken　from　Girty's　hut；　together　with　Silvertip's　knife；　lay　beside

him。



As　Joe　lay　there　hoping　for　Whispering　Winds'　return；　his　reflections　were　not

pleasant。　Fortunate；　indeed；　he　was　to　be　alive；　but　he　had　no　hope　he　could

continue　to　be　favored　by　fortune。　Odds　were　now　against　his　escape。　Girty

would　have　the　Delawares　on　his　trail　like　a　pack　of　hungry　wolves。　He　could