The Zane Grey Megapack. Zane GreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
mad; it’d make you laugh to see ’em,” replied Jonathan calmly.
“There’ll be some fights before she’s settled for, an’ mebbe arter thet. Have a care for her, Jack, an’ see that she don’t ketch you.”
“No more danger than for you.”
“I was ketched onct,” replied Wetzel.
Jonathan Zane looked up at his companion. Wetzel’s head was bowed; but there was no merriment in the serious face exposed to the borderman’s scrutiny.
“Lew, you’re jokin’.”
“Not me. Some day, when you’re ketched good, an’ I have to go back to the lonely trail, as I did afore you an’ me become friends, mebbe then, when I’m the last borderman, I’ll tell you.”
“Lew, ’cordin’ to the way settlers are comin’, in a few more years there won’t be any need for a borderman. When the Injuns are all gone where’ll be our work?”
“’Tain’t likely either of us’ll ever see them times,” said Wetzel, “an’ I don’t want to. Wal, Jack, I’m off now, an’ I’ll meet you here every other day.”
Wetzel shouldered his long rifle, and soon passed out of sight down the mountain-side.
Jonathan arose, shook himself as a big dog might have done, and went down into the valley. Only once did he pause in his descent, and that was when a crackling twig warned him some heavy body was moving near. Silently he sank into the bushes bordering the trail. He listened with his ear close to the ground. Presently he heard a noise as of two hard substances striking together. He resumed his walk, having recognized the grating noise of a deer-hoof striking a rock. Farther down he espied a pair grazing. The buck ran into the thicket; but the doe eyed him curiously.
Less than an hour’s rapid walking brought him to the river. Here he plunged into a thicket of willows, and emerged on a sandy strip of shore. He carefully surveyed the river bank, and then pulled a small birch-bark canoe from among the foliage. He launched the frail craft, paddled across the river and beached it under a reedy, over-hanging bank.
The distance from this point in a straight line to his destination was only a mile; but a rocky bluff and a ravine necessitated his making a wide detour. While lightly leaping over a brook his keen eye fell on an imprint in the sandy loam. Instantly he was on his knees. The footprint was small, evidently a woman’s, and, what was more unusual, instead of the flat, round moccasin-track, it was pointed, with a sharp, square heel. Such shoes were not worn by border girls. True Betty and Nell had them; but they never went into the woods without moccasins.
Jonathan’s experienced eye saw that this imprint was not an hour old. He gazed up at the light. The day was growing short. Already shadows lay in the glens. He would not long have light enough to follow the trail; but he hurried on hoping to find the person who made it before darkness came. He had not traveled many paces before learning that the one who made it was lost. The uncertainty in those hasty steps was as plain to the borderman’s eyes, as if it had been written in words on the sand. The course led along the brook, avoiding the rough places; and leading into the open glades and glens; but it drew no nearer to the settlement. A quarter of an hour of rapid trailing enabled Jonathan to discern a dark figure moving among the trees. Abandoning the trail, he cut across a ridge to head off the lost woman. Stepping out of a sassafras thicket, he came face to face with Helen Sheppard.
“Oh!” she cried in alarm, and then the expression of terror gave place to one of extreme relief and gladness. “Oh! Thank goodness! You’ve found me. I’m lost!”
“I reckon,” answered Jonathan grimly. “The settlement’s only five hundred yards over that hill.”
“I was going the wrong way. Oh! suppose you hadn’t come!” exclaimed Helen, sinking on a log and looking up at him with warm, glad eyes.
“How did you lose your way?” Jonathan asked. He saw neither the warmth in her eyes nor the gladness.
“I went up the hillside, only a little way, after flowers, keeping the fort in sight all the time. Then I saw some lovely violets down a little hill, and thought I might venture. I found such loads of them I forgot everything else, and I must have walked on a little way. On turning to go back I couldn’t find the little hill. I have hunted in vain for the clearing. It seems as if I have been wandering about for hours. I’m so glad you’ve found me!”
“Weren’t you told to stay in the settlement, inside the clearing?” demanded Jonathan.
“Yes,” replied Helen, with her head up.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t choose.”
“You ought to have better sense.”
“It seems I hadn’t,” Helen said quietly, but her eyes belied that calm voice.
“You’re a headstrong child,” Jonathan added curtly.
“Mr. Zane!” cried Helen with pale face.
“I suppose you’ve always had your own sweet will; but out here on the border you ought to think a little of others, if not of yourself.”
Helen maintained a proud silence.
“You might have run right into prowlin’ Shawnees.”
“That dreadful disaster would not have caused you any sorrow,” she flashed out.
“Of course it would. I might have lost my scalp tryin’ to get you back home,” said Jonathan, beginning to hesitate. Plainly he did not know what to make of this remarkable young woman.
“Such a pity to have lost all your fine hair,” she answered with a touch of scorn.
Jonathan flushed, perhaps for the first time in his life. If there was anything he was proud of, it was his long, glossy hair.
“Miss Helen, I’m a poor hand at words,” he said, with a pale, grave face. “I was only speakin’ for your own good.”
“You are exceedingly kind; but need not trouble yourself.”
“Say,” Jonathan hesitated, looking half-vexed at the lovely, angry face. Then an idea occurred to him. “Well, I won’t trouble. Find your way home yourself.”
Abruptly he turned and walked slowly away. He had no idea of allowing her to go home alone; but believed it might be well for her to think so. If she did not call him back he would remain near at hand, and when she showed signs of anxiety or fear he could go to her.
Helen determined she would die in the woods, or be captured by Shawnees, before calling him back. But she watched him. Slowly the tall, strong figure, with its graceful, springy stride, went down the glade. He would be lost to view in a moment, and then she would be alone. How dark it had suddenly become! The gray cloak of twilight was spread over the forest, and in the hollows night already had settled down. A breathless silence pervaded the woods. How lonely! thought Helen, with a shiver. Surely it would be dark before she could find the settlement. What hill hid the settlement from view? She did not know, could not remember which he had pointed out. Suddenly she began to tremble. She had been so frightened before he had found her, and so relieved afterward; and now he was going away.
“Mr. Zane,” she cried with a great effort. “Come back.”
Jonathan kept slowly on.
“Come back, Jonathan, please.”
The borderman retraced his steps.
“Please take me home,” she said, lifting a fair face all flushed, tear-stained, and marked with traces of storm. “I was foolish, and silly to come into the woods, and so glad to see you! But you spoke to me—in—in a way no one ever used before. I’m sure I deserved it. Please take me home. Papa will be worried.”
Softer eyes and voice than hers never entreated man.
“Come,”