the spirit of the border- 第51部分

the　forest；　over　the　babbling　brooks；　out　upon　the　golden…flecked

fieldsalways　close　on　the　trail。



At　last　in　an　open　part　of　the　forest；　where　a　fire　had　once　swept　away　the

brush　and　smaller　timber；　Wetzel　came　upon　the　spot　where　the　Delaware's　trail

ended。



There　in　the　soft；　black　ground　was　a　moccasin…print。　The　forest　was　not

dense；　there　was　plenty　of　light；　no　logs；　stones　or　trees　were　near；　and　yet

over　all　that　glade　no　further　evidence　of　the　Indian's　trail　was　visible。



It　faded　there　as　the　great　chief　had　boasted　it　would。



Wetzel　searched　the　burnt　ground；　he　crawled　on　his　hands　and　knees；　again　and

again　he　went　over　the　surroundings。　The　fact　that　one　moccasin…print　pointed

west　and　the　other　east；　showed　that　the　Delaware　had　turned　in　his　tracks；

was　the　most　baffling　thing　that　had　ever　crossed　the　hunter　in　all　his　wild

wanderings。



For　the　first　time　in　many　years　he　had　failed。　He　took　his　defeat　hard；

because　he　had　been　successful　for　so　long　he　thought　himself　almost

infallible；　and　because　the　failure　lost　him　the　opportunity　to　kill　his　great

foe。　In　his　passion　he　cursed　himself　for　being　so　weak　as　to　let　the　prayer

of　a　woman　turn　him　from　his　life's　purpose。



With　bowed　head　and　slow；　dragging　steps　he　made　his　way　westward。　The　land

was　strange　to　him；　but　he　knew　he　was　going　toward　familiar　ground。　　For　a

time　he　walked　quietly；　all　the　time　the　fierce　fever　in　his　veins　slowly

abating。　Calm　he　always　was；　except　when　that　unnatural　lust　for　Indians'

blood　overcame　him。



On　the　summit　of　a　high　ridge　he　looked　around　to　ascertain　his　bearings。　　He


was　surprised　to　find　he　had　traveled　in　a　circle。　A　mile　or　so　below　him

arose　the　great　oak　tree　which　he　recognized　as　the　landmark　of　Beautiful

Spring。　He　found　himself　standing　on　the　hill；　under　the　very　dead　tree　to

which　he　had　directed　Girty's　attention　a　few　hours　previous。



With　the　idea　that　he　would　return　to　the　spring　to　scalp　the　dead　Indians；　he

went　directly　toward　the　big　oak　tree。　Once　out　of　the　forest　a　wide　plain　lay

between　him　and　the　wooded　knoll　which　marked　the　glade　of　Beautiful　Spring。

He　crossed　this　stretch　of　verdant　meadow…land；　and　entered　the　copse。



Suddenly　he　halted。　His　keen　sense　of　the　usual　harmony　of　the　forest；　with

its　innumerable　quiet　sounds；　had　received　a　severe　shock。　He　sank　into　the

tall　weeds　and　listened。　Then　he　crawled　a　little　farther。　Doubt　became

certainty。　A　single　note　of　an　oriole　warned　him；　and　it　needed　not　the　quick

notes　of　a　catbird　to　tell　him　that　near　at　hand；　somewhere；　was　human　life。



Once　more　Wetzel　became　a　tiger。　The　hot　blood　leaped　from　his　heart；　firing

all　his　veins　and　nerves。　But　calmly　noiseless；　certain；　cold；　deadly　as　a

snake　he　began　the　familiar　crawling　method　of　stalking　his　game。



On；　on　under　the　briars　and　thickets；　across　the　hollows　full　of　yellow

leaves；　up　over　stony　patches　of　ground　to　the　fern…covered　cliff　overhanging

the　glade　he　glidedlithe；　sinuous；　a　tiger　in　movement　and　in　heart。



He　parted　the　long；　graceful　ferns　and　gazed　with　glittering　eyes　down　into

the　beautiful　glade。



He　saw　not　the　shining　spring　nor　the　purple　moss；　nor　the　ghastly　white

bonesall　that　the　buzzards　had　left　of　the　deadnor　anything；　save　a

solitary　Indian　standing　erect　in　the　glade。



There；　within　range　of　his　rifle；　was　his　great　Indian　foe；　Wingenund。



Wetzel　sank　back　into　the　ferns　to　still　the　furious　exultations　which　almost

consumed　him　during　the　moment　when　he　marked　his　victim。　He　lay　there

breathing　hard；　gripping　tightly　his　rifle；　slowly　mastering　the　passion　that

alone　of　all　things　might　render　his　aim　futile。



For　him　it　was　the　third　great　moment　of　his　life；　the　last　of　three　moments

in　which　the　Indian's　life　had　belonged　to　him。　Once　before　he　had　seen　that

dark；　powerful　face　over　the　sights　of　his　rifle；　and　he　could　not　shoot

because　his　one　shot　must　be　for　another。　　Again　had　that　lofty；　haughty

figure　stood　before　him；　calm；　disdainful；　arrogant；　and　he　yielded　to　a

woman's　prayer。



The　Delaware's　life　was　his　to　take；　and　he　swore　he　would　have　it！　He

trembled　in　the　ecstasy　of　his　triumphant　passion；　his　great　muscles　rippled

and　quivered；　for　the　moment　was　entirely　beyond　his　control。　Then　his　passion

calmed。　Such　power　for　vengeance　had　he　that　he　could　almost　still　the　very

beats　of　his　heart　to　make　sure　and　deadly　his　fatal　aim。　Slowly　he　raised

himself；　his　eyes　of　cold　fire　glittered；　slowly　he　raised　the　black　rifle。



Wingenund　stood　erect　in　his　old；　grand　pose；　with　folded　arms；　but　his　eyes；

instead　of　being　fixed　on　the　distant　hills；　were　lowered　to　the　ground。



An　Indian　girl；　cold　as　marble；　lay　at　his　feet。　Her　garments　were　wet；　and

clung　to　her　slender　form。　her　sad　face　was　frozen　into　an　eternal　rigidity。



By　her　side　was　a　newly　dig　grave。



The　bead　on　the　front　sight　of　the　rifle　had　hardly　covered　the　chief's　dark

face　when　Wetzel's　eye　took　in　these　other　details。　He　had　been　so　absorbed　in

his　purpose　that　he　did　not　dream　of　the　Delaware's　reason　for　returning　to

the　Beautiful　Spring。



Slowly　Wetzel's　forefinger　stiffened；　slowly　he　lowered　the　black　rifle。



Wingenund　had　returned　to　bury　Whispering　Winds。



Wetzel's　teethe　clenched；　an　awful　struggle　tore　his　heart。　Slowly　the　rifle

rose；　wavered　and　fell。　It　rose　again；　wavered　and　fell。　　Something　terrible

was　wrong　with　him；　something　awful　was　awakening　in　his　soul。



Wingenund　had　not　made　a　fool　of　him。　The　Delaware　had　led　him　a　long　chase；

had　given　him　the　slip　in　the　forest；　not　to　boast　of　it；　but　to　hurry　back　to

give　his　daughter　Christian　burial。



Wingenund　was　a　Christian！



Had　he　not　been；　once　having　cast　his　daughter　from　him；　he　would　never　have

looked　upon　her　face　again。



Wingenund　was　true　to　his　race；　but　he　was　a　Christian。



Suddenly　Wetzel's　terrible　temptation；　his　heart…racking　struggle　ceased。　　He

lowered　the　long；　black　rifle。　He　took　one　last　look　at　the　chieftain's　dark；

powerful　face。



Then　the　Avenger　fled　like　a　shadow　through　the　forest。







Chapter　XXX。



It　was　late　afternoon　at　Fort　Henry。　The　ruddy　sun　had　already　sunk　behind　the

wooded　hill；　and　the　long　shadows　of　the　trees　lengthened　on　the　green　square

in　front　of　the　fort。



Colonel　Zane　stood　in　his　doorway　watching　the　river　with　eager　eyes。　A　few

minutes　before　a　man　had　appeared　on　the　bank　of　the　island　and　hailed。　The

colonel　had　sent　his　brother　Jonathan　to　learn　what　was　wanted。　The　latter　had

already　reached　the　other　shore　in　his　flatboat；　and　presently　the　little　boat

put　out　again　with　the　stranger　seated　at　the　stern。



〃I　thought；　perhaps；　it　might　be　Wetzel；〃　mused　the　colonel；　〃though　I　never

knew　of　Lew's　wanting　a　boat。〃



Jonathan　brought　the　man　across　the　river；　and　up　the　winding　path　to　where

Colonel　Zane　was　waiting。



〃Hello！　It's　young　Christy！〃　exclaimed　the　colonel；　jumping　off　the　steps；　and

cordially　extending　his　hand。　〃Glad　to　see　you！　Where's　Williamson。　　How　did

you　happen　over　here？〃



〃Captain　Williamson　and　his　men　will　make　the　river　eight　or　ten　miles　above；〃

answered　Christy。　〃I　came　across　to　inquire　about　the　young　people　who　left

the　Village　of　Peace。　Was　glad　to　learn　from　Jonathan　they　got　out　all　right。〃



〃Yes；　indeed；　we're　all　glad。　Come　and　sit　down。　Of　course　you'll　stay　over

night。　You　look　tired　and　worn。　Well；　no　wonder；　when　you　saw　that　Moravian

massacre。　You　must　tell　me　about　it。　I　saw　Sam　Brady　yesterday；　and　he　spoke

of　seeing　you　over　there。　Sam　told　me　a　good　deal。　Ah！　here's　Jim　now。〃



The　young　missionary　came　out　of　the　open　door；　and　the　two　young　men　greeted

each　other　warmly。



〃How　is　she？〃　asked　Christy；　when　the　first　greetings　had　been　exchanged。



〃Nell's　just　beginning　to　get　over　the　shock。　She'll　be　glad　to　see　you。〃



〃Jonathan　tells　me　you　got　married　just　before　Girty　came　up　with　you　at

Beautiful　Spring。〃



〃Yes；　it　is　true。　In　fact；　the　whole　wonderful　story　is　true；　yet　I　cannot

believe　as　yet。　You　look　thin　and　haggard。　When　we　last　met　you　were　well。〃



〃That　awful　time　pulled　me　down。　I　was　an　unwilling　spectator　of　all　that

horrible　massacre；　and　shall　never　get　over　it。　I　can　still　see　the　fiendish

savages　running　about　with　the　reeking　scalps　of　their　own　people。　I　actually

counted　the　bodies　of　forty…nine　grown　Christians　and　twenty…seven　children。

An　hour　after　you　left　us　the　church　was　in　ashes；　and　the　next　day　I　saw　the

burned　bodies。　Oh！　the　sickening　horror　of　the　scene！　It　haunts　me！　That

monster　Jim　Girty　killed　fourteen　Christians　with　his　sledge…hammer。〃



〃Did　you　hear　of　his　death？〃　asked　Colonel　Zane。



〃Yes；　and　a　fitting　end　it　was　to　the　frontier　'Skull　and　Cross…bones'。〃



〃It　was　like　Wetzel　to　think　of　such　a　vengeance。〃



〃Has　Wetzel　come　in　since？〃



〃No。　Jonathan　says　he　went　after　Wingenund；　and　there's　no　telling　when　he'll

return。〃



〃I　hoped　he　would　spare　the　Delaware。〃



〃Wetzel　spare　an　Indian！〃



〃But　the　chief　was　a　friend。　He　surely　saved　the　girl。〃



〃I　am　sorry；　too；　because　Wingenund　was　a　fine　Indian。　But　Wetzel　is

implacable。〃



〃Here's　Nell；　and　Mrs。　Clarke　too。　Come　out；　both　of　you；〃　cried　Jim。



Nell　appeared　in　the　doorway　with　Colonel　Zane's　sister。　The　two　girls　came

down　the　steps　and　greeted　the　young　man。　The　bride's　sweet　face　was　white　and

thin；　and　there　was　a　shadow　in　her　eyes。



〃I　am　so　glad　you　got　safely　away　fromfrom　there；〃　said　Christy；　earnestly。



〃Tell　me　of　Benny？〃　asked　Nell；　speaking　softly。



〃Oh；　yes；　I　forgot。　Why；　Benny　is　safe　and　well。　He　was　the　only　Christian

Indian　to　escape　the　Christian　massacre。　Heckewelder　hid　him　until　it　was　all

over。　He　is　going　to　have　the　lad　educated。〃



〃Thank　Heaven！〃　murmured　Nell。



〃And　th