.Of CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANCGLfiS
 
 The lone warrior was Silverheels
 
 IN THE DAYS 
 OF ST. GLAIR 
 
 A 'Romance of the 
 Valley 
 
 BY 
 
 DR. JAMES BALL NAYLOR 
 
 Author of " RALPH MARLOWB," 
 " THE SIGN OF THE PROPHET," etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY W. H. FRY 
 
 AKRON, OHIO 
 
 Ghe Savlfield Ttibltshing Co. 
 
 NEW YORK 1902 CHICAGO
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1902, 
 
 BY 
 THE SAAI,FIEI,D PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 MADE BV 
 
 THE WERNER COMPANY 
 Mtfton, OHIO
 
 2>ebfcatfon 
 
 To the memory of 
 the sturdy and courageous pioneers, 
 
 who lost their lives in 
 
 the Big Bottom Massacre, 
 
 this volume is respectfully dedicated. 
 
 2132446
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The lone warrior was Silverheels Frontispiece 
 
 Paul turned the beast's head a little up stream, and en- 
 couraged him by word and caress 89 
 
 Nancy was the only person to offer armed resistance ... 279 
 
 The girl leaped forward and thrust the torch into the 
 
 mocking face of the warrior 394
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IT was the autumn of seventeen hundred and 
 eighty-nine. The morning sun stood tiptoe on the 
 ramparts of the Blue Ridge and hurled his javelins 
 into the peaceful valley of the Shenandoah. Clouds 
 of dun-colored fog like smoke from a burning 
 city arose from the bosom of the Shenandoah 
 itself, and floated lazily over the adjoining fields and 
 woods. Rose-colored beacon lights of dawn began 
 to appear upon the crest of the Alleghenies ; and 
 here and there along the valley columns of blue 
 smoke shot heavenward, indicating that the inhabi- 
 tants were astir and the war of day was on. 
 
 Midway between the dancing waters of the river 
 and the foothills, was the Lovelace mansion ; and 
 upon its broad veranda stood a young woman. She 
 was tall and queenly. Her raven hair, soft and 
 silken in texture, was gathered in a loose coil at the 
 back of her head, and her sloe-black eyes that 
 could harden and flash with pride or anger, or sof- 
 ten and glow with love or pity were bent upon the 
 bright river several miles away. One white and 
 shapely hand shielded her eyes from the slanting 
 arrows of the sun, while the other rested upon the 
 railing of the veranda. A black gown of soft 
 woolen accentuated the whiteness of her skin in 
 
 (7)
 
 8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 which there was no hint of sallowness and sway- 
 ing in the crisp breeze, revealed the matchless con- 
 tour of her limbs. The white neckerchief that en- 
 circled her slender neck was folded upon her breast 
 and fastened with a small brooch of gold. 
 
 A few moments she stood motionless, her gaze 
 riveted upon the river, the fog that overhung it, and 
 the distant range of the Blue Ridge that appeared 
 as a low-lying cloud-bank against the brightening 
 sky. Then she turned, and, walking to the end of 
 the veranda, directed her attention toward the 
 stables at the back of the house. She smiled invol- 
 untarily as there came to her ears : 
 
 "Oh, Marse Paull Marse Paul! Fo' de Lo'd's 
 sake hurry !" 
 
 She continued to smile as she murmured to her- 
 self: 
 
 " The silly black ! He seems to be greatly excited 
 about something. What can be the matter ? " 
 
 " Marse Paul ! Marse Paul ! De bay filly's got 
 'er fo' foot in de manger, an' she's jes' ramshacklin' 
 eb'ryt'ing!" 
 
 The young woman heard the excited tones of the 
 negro, the sound of shod hoofs upon the floor of the 
 stable, and the crash of breaking planks. Her smile 
 faded, and hard lines took its place. 
 
 "What's the matter here, Gumbo? " cried a cheery 
 voice. 
 
 " Fo' de Lo'd, Marse Paul, de filly's got bofe 'er
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 9 
 
 feet in de manger, an' I can't do a t'ing wid 'er! 
 'Deed an' dat's a fack ! " 
 
 Apparently the mare ceased her struggles and 
 stood still, for the young woman heard no further 
 noise. Her harsh look gave way to one of melting 
 tenderness. 
 
 " Ah, Paul, how I love you ! " she whispered, 
 clasping her strong white hands in front of her. " I'd 
 travel barefoot over red-hot coals to win you, were it 
 necessary. And you must be mine! I have loved 
 you long ! " 
 
 Her black eyes were moist and her bosom was 
 heaving with emotion. She saw two horsemen rid- 
 ing from the stables toward the house, and she de- 
 scended the steps to greet them. One of the riders 
 was a young man of twenty-five years, tall, straight 
 and sinewy. His face was smooth-shaven and his 
 brown hair fell in ringlets upon his shoulders. His 
 laughing blue eyes denoted a merry, good natured 
 disposition, while his square jaws and firm mouth 
 were indicative of high moral courage and imperious 
 will power. A broad-brimmed soft hat surmounted 
 his brown curls, and a cloak of blue cloth, fastened 
 at the neck with a clasp, fell about his shoulders. 
 The horse that he bestrode was a black of fine form 
 and great beauty ; and he sat the animal with the 
 easy grace of one accustomed to the saddle. His 
 companion, a middle-aged negro, was mounted upon 
 a restive, high-stepping bay mare. A bullet-pouch
 
 io IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 and powder-horn hung at the slave's side, and a long 
 rifle rested upon the pummel of his saddle. 
 
 " Good morning, cousin," was Paul Graydon's 
 greeting, as he cantered up to the fence and doffed 
 his hat 
 
 Hester Lovelace smiled winsomely upon him, as 
 she answered : 
 
 "Good morning a most beautiful morning 1 
 Where now, Paul?" 
 
 " I'm going to join Isaac Meeks in a bear-hunt 
 among the mountain laurel bushes," returned the 
 young man, as he reined in his steed and patted its 
 glossy neck. 
 
 A shade of annoyance swept over Hester's lovely 
 features, but it was gone as she inquired : 
 
 " What occasioned the uproar at the stables just 
 now?" 
 
 " Bess was indulging in one of her tantrums ; and 
 I suppose Gumbo attempted to chastise her," he said 
 smiling. 
 
 Miss Lovelace looked very grave as she asked: 
 
 " Paul, don't you think you are too lenient with 
 the slaves sometimes especially with Gumbo? " 
 
 " It may be, Hester," he admitted, rather reluct- 
 antly, "but I'm what I am. I wasn't born for a 
 slave driver I don't like it. I'd rather lead than 
 drive. However, I shan't have it to do for long." 
 
 " What do you mean, Paul ? " she asked, opening 
 her black eyes very wide. 
 
 "This, Hester: I've eaten the bread of idleness
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 11 
 
 too long; too long I've led an aimless existence. 
 My uncle, your kind father peace to his ashes 
 gave me a home, reared and educated me. I've no 
 right to expect more. I must go out into the world, 
 armed with ambition, energy and good health, and 
 hew out a road to success. I can't respect myself 
 fully until I've done so." 
 
 All this he said in a manly, decided way that left 
 no shadow of doubt in regard to his real intentions. 
 Hester watched him narrowly as he spoke, studying 
 his every expression and gesture. Her own face 
 expressed surprise, incredulity, and downright 
 anger in turn. When he had finished she asked 
 coldly : 
 
 " Are you tired of staying with us, Paul?" 
 " Xot at all, Hester," he replied quickly. " You 
 know it's not that " 
 She interrupted him with : 
 "Why go, then?" 
 " For the reasons I've given." 
 " They're neither good nor sufficient." 
 He looked at her in surprise and began : 
 " I don't understand you, Hester. I ** 
 Again she broke in on him : 
 
 " Let me explain, cousin. You say that my father 
 gave you a home, reared and educated you. You 
 might have added that he loved you as his own son. 
 My mother has been your mother, my father has 
 been your father. You and I have been as brother and 
 sister. Now, when my our father is dead and
 
 12 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 our mother is an invalid, when the management of 
 the large estate devolves upon you and me, you pro- 
 pose to go away and leave me to bear the burden 
 alone. Surely you've a strange way of showing 
 gratitude, Paul." 
 
 Tears were in her eyes. Her voice was trembling. 
 She stood unmasked before Paul Graydon, but he 
 was too blind to see. He did not understand that 
 her tears were tears of love and mortification ; he did 
 not realize that she had shown him her woman's 
 heart. Well as he knew her, accustomed as he was 
 to all her moods, he did not understand her now. 
 He thought that her emotion had been caused by 
 the mention of her dead father. 
 
 " Hester, I can't consent to stay here much 
 longer." He spoke kindly but firmly, u Don't mis- 
 understand me ; I'm not ungrateful. You've been 
 very kind to me. But when a man reaches the age 
 of twenty-five years, it behooves him to think of pro- 
 curing home and substance for himself. The life 
 I'm leading here that of a gentleman of leisure 
 is a pleasant one. But I'm accomplishing nothing. 
 You say that if I go away, I leave the care of the 
 estate to you alone. I don't flatter myself that you'll 
 feel the loss very greatly. You can readily obtain a 
 better overseer. As you've said, I'm too easy with 
 the field-hands and servants." 
 
 Hester Lovelace strove with conflicting emotions. 
 She loved her handsome cousin. Her passion was 
 one of slow growth but overmastering power. She
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 13 
 
 had no idea of giving him up of permitting him to 
 go out into the world beyond her influence. She 
 was angry that he had not understood her. Yet she 
 was ashamed to put her meaning in plainer lan- 
 guage. Did Paul love her as she loved him? She 
 did not know she scarcely dared to think. A 
 happy thought came to her. She was rich, Paul 
 was poor. Perhaps that was the reason he had 
 never spoken of love. She would make one more 
 effort. She leaned across the low fence of white- 
 washed palings, and smoothed his horse's glossy 
 coat, as she said in a low, intense tone : 
 
 " You shan't entertain such ideas for a moment. 
 Father's dead, mother's an invalid. This vast prop- 
 erty will soon be yours and mine. There's enough 
 for you and me both. There's no excuse for your 
 going, Paul." 
 
 He drew himself up proudly : " Hester 
 cousin, do you think me base enough to rob you of 
 your own ? " 
 
 "If you don't accept what I offer offer you 
 with all my heart, you do rob me, indeed ! " 
 
 There was a world of meaning in her tone, and 
 her black eyes turned full upon him. Something 
 of the truth flashed through his mind; but he cast 
 the thought aside as unworthy. 
 
 " Rob you by leaving you? " he ejaculated, gazing 
 into her upturned face. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Of what Hester?"
 
 I 4 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 "Of yourself!" 
 
 He could misunderstand her no longer. Her face 
 and neck were suffused with hot blushes, as she 
 dropped her head and tapped the earth, with her 
 slippered foot. Paul Graydon was greatly embar- 
 rassed. He shifted his position in the saddle, and 
 nervously knotted the rein in his hand. He regard- 
 ed Hester as a sister, and he loved her but not 
 in the sense that she loved him. He laughed un- 
 easily a forced, artificial laugh ; and attempted to 
 speak, but his voice stuck in his throat. His words 
 sounded hollow and insincere, as he said : 
 
 " You'll not miss me greatly, Hester. You'll be 
 lonely for a time, no doubt ; we've been long togeth- 
 er. But time heals all wounds. I must get me to 
 Isaac Meek's house, however, or hell grow weary 
 of waiting and start upon the hunt, alone." 
 
 She thought that he had misinterpreted her lan- 
 guage, and quickly recovered her composure; for 
 she was humiliated that she had laid bare her heart 
 before him. She must say something. Already he 
 was gathering up the reins. With a miserable at- 
 tempt at a smile, she asked : 
 
 " Why do you associate with Isaac Meeks, Paul ? 
 He's far beneath you." 
 
 He was pleased and relieved that she had aban- 
 doned the subject of their conversation, and an- 
 swered readily and carelessly : 
 
 " I don't regard him as an associate or friend,
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 15 
 
 Hester. He appears to be an honest, good-natured 
 fellow, and is a skillful guide and hunter." 
 
 " Is that all the interest you have in him or his 
 family?" 
 
 He hesitated a moment, and became aware that 
 she yas keenly scrutinizing him. 
 
 " Yes; that is all." 
 
 She said not another word, but continued to look 
 him full in the face. 
 
 " Why do you ask ? " he inquired, slightly irritated 
 at her manner. 
 
 " You're more interested in the fair Marie, than 
 in her uncle," was her unexpected rejoinder. 
 
 Paul's face flushed, and he could not look her in 
 the eyes. 
 
 " Hester ! " was all that he could say. 
 
 She clapped her hands and laughed a harsh, grat- 
 ing laugh. 
 
 " You stand convicted ! " she cried. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he managed to inquire. 
 
 " That you love Marie Fontanelle ! I've long sus- 
 pected it; now you've told me. So you wish to go 
 out into the world, to build a nest for your gay bird. 
 It yould be cruel in me to hinder you ! " And a 
 faint sneer curled her thin lips. 
 
 " I've not said I mean to marry Miss Fontanelle," 
 he replied coldly. 
 
 " You've said that you love her." 
 
 "Hester! When?" 
 
 " Just now. Your face told what your tongue re-
 
 16 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 fused to tell. You love her what matter? It's 
 naught to me that you mean to ruin your life by 
 marrying a French woman. Go go to her ! She 
 is waiting for you she of the noble pedigree ! A 
 slattern Meeks for her mother, and a French trader 
 for her father ! " 
 
 She was beside herself with rage and shame. 
 Seeing that neither explanation nor argument would 
 prove availing, he gathered up the reins and, dash- 
 ing the spurs into his steed, galloped from her sight. 
 She watched him with dry eyes until he disappeared 
 at the turn of the road. Then she covered her face 
 with her hands and wept silently.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 T"" HE fog had lifted from the river, and the sun was 
 * climbing the eastern arc of the heavens. The 
 negroes were singing and working in the tobacco 
 fields. To the right and to the left of the mansion, 
 half-naked pickaninnies were gamboling and laugh- 
 ing in the warm sunshine. A restless catbird 
 squawked and complained over the advent of 
 autumn, as it hopped from limb to limb of the quince 
 bush in the corner of the garden. The shaggy 
 watchdog toothless, old and feeble trotted to 
 her side, and, raising his gray muzzle, begged for a 
 caress. But Hester heard and saw nothing. At 
 last, with slow footsteps, she entered the house. 
 
 The Lovelace plantation included some of the best 
 farming and grazing lands in the valley of the Shen- 
 andoah "the garden spot of Virginia," It con- 
 sisted of several thousand acres of hill and bottom, 
 and stretched from the foothills of the Alleghenies 
 to within a few miles of the river. 
 
 The mansion if it merited so dignified a name 
 was large and rambling. It had been builded 
 piecemeal. Originally a double hewed-log house of 
 two stories, the outside had later on been weather- 
 boarded, and from time to time additions had been 
 2 (17)
 
 i8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 made to it, as the needs or fancy of its owner dictat- 
 ed. It was unpainted and weatherstained. Its im- 
 mense whitewashed chimneys of undressed stone, 
 on the outside of the structure, were in strange and 
 glaring contrast to its gray exterior. A low, broad 
 veranda extended along two sides of the house, and 
 stone steps led down to the flag-paved walks. Back 
 of the residence were the stables and other outbuild- 
 ings ; and to the right and to the left of it scat- 
 tered along the country highway were the negro 
 quarters. 
 
 The interior of the mansion was suggestive of the 
 birthplace of its original owner. The polished 
 oaken floors, the wide and deep fireplaces, the 
 smoke-stained joists and wainscotings, the cumbrous 
 carved funiture, and the heavy brass andirons and 
 candlesticks, gave the impression of an English 
 country-house of the period. 
 
 George Lovelace, Hester's father, was the young- 
 er son of an English nobleman. At the age of twen- 
 ty-seven he married, and with money inherited from 
 his mother's estate he came to America to seek his 
 fortune. He bought this tract of land in the Shen- 
 andoah valley, and cleared and improved the estate. 
 Here Hester, the only child, was born twenty-three 
 years before the opening of our story. Several 
 years after her birth, Mr. Lovelace went to Eng- 
 land ; and on his return brought back with him his 
 dead sister's son, Paul Graydon. The "bonnie 
 English laddie," as his uncle lovingly called him,
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 19 
 
 found a place in his aunt's motherly heart, became 
 the baby Hester's constant companion and playmate, 
 and waxed fair and lusty under the genial Virginia 
 skies. 
 
 As has been said, Paul and Hester were insepar- 
 able from the day of his arrival. As children, they 
 romped and frolicked about the gray mansion; a 
 little older grown, they explored the fields and 
 woods together ; and not until he had reached young 
 manhood and she young womanhood, were they 
 ever long apart. 
 
 Then he went to college in New England, while 
 she stayed at home under the instruction of a private 
 teacher. When he returned after graduating, they 
 promptly resumed their old relationship. Both 
 were strong-willed and imperious both English 
 to the core and the clash of steel on steel was not 
 an infrequent occurrence. When the battle ceased, 
 however, the participants were better friends than 
 before. One gave ground and yielded the contested 
 point as frequently as the other ; and after each en- 
 counter, each had the good sense to refrain from 
 mentioning the cause of their wordy duel, or the re- 
 sult of it. 
 
 As the years passed, Paul's love for Hester grew 
 stronger but it was the protecting love of a broth- 
 er. Not so with her love for him. It underwent a 
 change a wonderful transformation. At first, 
 she was barely aware of it. She felt that Paul was 
 nearer and dearer to her than ever before, that the
 
 20 
 
 I.\ THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 .skies were bluer and the flowers fairer for his pres- 
 ence and that she was unhappy when he was ab- 
 sent. Then she realized that she grew jealous if an- 
 other woman especially if the woman were young 
 and beautiful showed even a passing interest in 
 him. \Yhat did it all mean? She propounded the 
 question to herself many times. At last the startling 
 truth flashed upon her that she regarded her hand- 
 some cousin as a lover. 
 
 From that time onward she looked upon Paul as 
 her future husband. She did not stop to ask if he 
 loved her had not he been kind and loving al- 
 ways? Of course he would ask her to be his wife 
 sometime. Not until her cousin began to go upon 
 frequent hunts with Isaac Meeks, and to spend days 
 away from her, did she begin to question the charac- 
 ter of his love. 
 
 On an ill-fated day she met Marie Fontanelle, 
 Isaac Meeks's niece, and was surprised at the girl's 
 almost angelic beauty, so different from her own. 
 Paul frequently went to the Meeks place. Had he 
 fallen in love with the dainty forest flower? She 
 trembled with apprehension. Was this French girl 
 this daughter of an adventurous trader to take 
 from her all the sunshine of existence? She would 
 not permit it and she stamped her little foot in 
 ragei 
 
 From that time forward, she exercised even- pow- 
 er to win and keep her cousin. She was a fascinat- 
 ing woman, and she knew it. She bent all her ener-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 21 
 
 gies to her task. She welcomed him home with a 
 smile, and sped him on his journey with a lingering 
 caress. She consulted him in everything, and did 
 her best to make him understand that he was neces- 
 sary to her very existence. She read to him, she 
 dressed to please him. But she failed to hold him. 
 Slowly but surely he drifted away from her. 
 
 She could not stand that. She grew jealous and 
 unhappy. She vented her displeasure upon the un- 
 offending slaves ; was moody and silent in the pres- 
 ence of her mother ; and at times treated Paul in a 
 cold and distant manner. Paul, blind to everything 
 but his love for Marie Fontanelle, scarcely noticed 
 Hester's changed demeanor. He treated her, as he 
 had always done, with courtesy and respect ; showed 
 her the same attentive kindness and felt for her the 
 same old brotherly love. All this was just what she 
 did not want. She grew desperate, and, on the 
 morning that opens our story, unmasked her heart 
 to him. 
 
 When Hester entered the house, after Paul's de- 
 parture, she found her mother half reclining upon a 
 stiff-backed sofa in front of the white hearth. The 
 sun was warm without, but within the air would 
 have been cool, had it not been for the bright fire 
 that blazed in the wide fireplace. Caroline Lovelace 
 was a pale, white-haired woman, whose face 
 drawn and seamed with the indelible lines of great 
 suffering still showed traces of former beauty. 
 She was tall, thin and worn ; and the white hands
 
 22 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 that lay listlessly in her lap had a semi-transparent 
 appearance. She was gazing into the depths of the 
 gentle blaze with a far-away look in her dark eyes. 
 Glancing up as her daughter drew a chair toward 
 the fire she asked : 
 
 "Where have you been, child? You look blue 
 and cold." 
 
 "Out on the front veranda," Hester answered, 
 without looking at her mother. 
 
 " You're shivering are you sick ? " Mrs. Love- 
 lace inquired, with concern. 
 
 " I'm not sick " The answer came in a cold, in- 
 flexible tone " but I don't feel very well. Please 
 don't talk to me, mother." 
 
 "Hester, what's the matter? You're sick I 
 know you are. Don't be afraid of alarming me ; tell 
 me what ails you." 
 
 " Mother, I'm not sick I wish that I were I 
 wish that I could die ! I'm tired tired of life ! " 
 
 " Hester Lovelace ! " was all that her mother could 
 exclaim, as she slowly and feebly arose to a sitting 
 posture. She looked at her daughter in silence for 
 some time ; but Hester did not deign to reply. 
 
 " My child, don't you know that it's very wicked 
 to talk as you've been doing? " 
 
 Hester could restrain herself no longer. She 
 turned upon her parent, and in a tornado of passion 
 cried: 
 
 " Mother, I know nothing of the kind 1 It's not 
 wicked to tell the truth ; and I am tired of life for
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 23 
 
 I've nothing left to live for. You don't know 
 you can't know what I feel ! Oh, I'm so unhappy 
 so miserably unhappy ! " 
 
 She buried her face in her hands, while her form 
 shook. Mrs. Lovelace was puzzled and alarmed. 
 She had noticed for some time that Hester was not 
 herself ; but she had never seen her give way to such 
 a storm of passion. They were very like, this moth- 
 er and daughter. Each was willful and self-reliant ; 
 neither was of a confiding disposition. For this rea- 
 son they had never known the intimate relationship 
 that had existed between daughter and father. Mrs. 
 Lovelace did not know of Hester's love for Paul, 
 and was at a loss to account for her strange be- 
 havior. Now she said, as she wearily sank back 
 upon the cushions : 
 
 " Come here, dear I can't come to you ! Come 
 and tell me your troubles; perhaps I can help and 
 comfort you." 
 
 Hester had partly recovered her composure ; and, 
 apparently, was coldly indifferent to her mother's 
 appeal. Her indifference was assumed, however. 
 She felt that she must tell some one and the kind, 
 indulgent father to whom she had always gone was 
 dead. She hesitated. 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace went on : 
 
 " Come, dear ! Your father's gone now, and you 
 must make a confident of me. We've not been to 
 each other what we should have been. Let us start 
 anew and aright. I, too, have something that's
 
 24 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 worrying me very much something that I want 
 to tell you. Come, dear ! " 
 
 She held out her arms toward her daughter, and 
 said this last pleadingly. Hester's heart was 
 touched. Was her patient, long-suffering mother in 
 trouble, too? The young woman burst into tears, 
 and dropping upon her knees beside the sofa hid her 
 face in her mother's lap. Mrs. Lovelace gently and 
 caressingly stroked the girl's dark hair, until the 
 latter ceased her weeping, and, looking up with a 
 half smile, inquired: 
 
 "What is it, mother?" 
 
 " You want to know what troubles me ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Tell me first of your own troubles, dear child. 
 You're so changed you're not your old self." 
 
 " Tell me first, mother ; you know how hard it is 
 for me to confide." 
 
 " Well," replied Mrs. Lovelace, slowly, " take a 
 seat here, Hester, and let's talk calmly. We can 
 help and comfort each other, perhaps. I'm failing 
 and must leave you alone soon." 
 
 The daughter raised her hand deprecatingly, but 
 the mother paid no heed. 
 
 "I'm much concerned about your future, and 
 would see you well married and settled in life before 
 I die. Your cousin Paul's a clean and honorable 
 young man, and you've known each other intimately 
 for years. You'll need some one to help you in the 
 management of the estate. Who could assist you
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 25 
 
 so well as Paul ? I feel confident he loves you, Hes- 
 ter, and that in the near future he'll ask you to be his 
 wife. I used to think you loved him, child; and 
 was happy in the thought that he whom I've regard- 
 ed as a son would be my son indeed. But, of late, 
 I've thought you don't love him as a woman should 
 love the man she marries. It was your dear father's 
 wish that Paul should be your husband, Hester. Is 
 the thought unwelcome to you ? " 
 
 Hester was astonished at her mother's want of 
 discernment. She could have laughed aloud in 
 scorn. She burst forth: 
 
 " Mother, you're blind blind ! What but my 
 love for Paul has been burning as a consuming fire 
 within me, for months ? What but my love for him 
 has caused me to treat him as I have ? I am almost 
 crazed with grief and humiliation, for he does not 
 love me. He loves another ! " 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace stared hard at her daughter. 
 " Hester, is this true do you love Paul ? " 
 
 " Haven't I told you, mother? " 
 
 " And he loves another ? " 
 
 " It's true." 
 
 "Her name, Hester?" 
 
 " Marie Fontanelle." 
 
 " Who's Marie Fontanelle, pray ? " 
 
 " A niece of Isaac Meeks, the hunter, who lives up 
 in the foothills." 
 
 " A coarse and vulgar backwoods wench ! " 
 
 " Far from it, mother ! She is lovely, but she
 
 26 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 comes of plebian stock. Her mother was a Meeks 
 poor, illiterate whites and her father, an adven- 
 turous French trader. But what matters her origin ? 
 Paul's infatuated with her ; and talks of leaving us 
 and going out into the world, to seek his fortune." 
 
 Hester spoke in a hopeless tone that went straight 
 to her mother's heart. Mrs. Lovelace closed her 
 dark eyes, until they looked like two black slits in 
 the whiteness of her face, compressed her pale lips 
 and asked : 
 
 " How do you know all this, Hester? " 
 
 " I've picked it out of Paul, bit by bit. This morn- 
 ing I surprised him, by accusing him of loving her ; 
 and his face revealed the secret. It's too true, 
 mother ! " 
 
 Caroline Lovelace's face was a study. Little by 
 little the look of habitual calm forsook it, as the tem- 
 pest gathered. Rage corrugated her brows; and 
 from her eyes flashed an indomitable will that 
 brooked no opposition. 
 
 " The beggar ! " she hissed between her set teeth. 
 " How dare he flout you, my daughter, with the 
 blood of English peers in your veins and with your 
 rich dowry ? The dolt ! to go daft over the insipid 
 beauty of a half-breed French huzzy ! Has he no 
 memory for all he owes to us? He scorns your 
 love ! Very well, we shall see ! Leave it all to me, 
 child ; he shall be yours. I think that I shall have 
 no trouble in bringing him to his senses and to 
 your feet. Bah, the fool ! "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 27 
 
 Hester Lovelace's face brightened. She saw that 
 she had an earnest and powerful ally in her mother. 
 The younger woman bent down and kissed the up- 
 turned face. And in the compact sealed by that kiss 
 was a world of trouble for Paul Graydon and Marie 
 Fontanelle.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 PAUL overtook Gumbo at the turn of the road; 
 and together they cantered forward at a brisk 
 pace. The sunshine was warm and genial ; the air 
 was crisp and clear. It was one of those rare autumn 
 mornings that bring the glow of health to the in- 
 valid's cheek and make the blood dance and tingle in 
 the veins of the healthy. Paul rode with bent head 
 and downcast eyes, giving little heed to the beauties 
 of the morning. He was engrossed with his own 
 thoughts and bitter enough they were. He re- 
 alized at last that his haughty cousin looked upon 
 him as a lover ; and he realized as fully that for him 
 the world held but one woman and that woman 
 was little Marie Fontanelle. 
 
 His horse stumbled, and Paul, riding with 
 loosened rein, almost lost his seat. Mechanically he 
 pulled up the black steed ; but his reverie was un- 
 broken. 
 
 Gumbo was an observant, quick-witted fellow, 
 and he noticed his young master's mental abstrac- 
 tion. The negro had been Paul's body servant ever 
 since the latter's arrival in America. At that time, 
 Mr. Lovelace said : " Gumbo, this is your young 
 master ; see that you take good care of him. Paul, 
 (28)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 29 
 
 Gumbo is your servant ; if he doesn't obey you, let 
 me know and I'll have him flogged." 
 
 But no flogging did Gumbo ever receive through 
 Paul's tale-bearing. On the contrary, the fair- 
 skinned lad saved the dark-skinned one's back from 
 many a blow. The servant was ten years older than 
 his master. Paul soon learned to love the intelli- 
 gent, obedient slave; and the latter worshipped the 
 English boy, in a way that was little short of idol- 
 atry, and served him with dog-like fidelity. 
 
 In the presence of others, Gumbo always showed 
 Paul the respectful deference that was his due. But 
 when alone, the two chatted and laughed in an un- 
 dignified way that was quite shocking to Hester 
 if she chanced to come upon them. As the years 
 passed, Gumbo regarded Paul as the wisest of men, 
 and honored him accordingly ; while the latter looked 
 upon Gumbo as a weaker brother to be loved and 
 protected. It was not at all strange that on this day 
 the servant should observe the master's gloomy 
 silence and remark : 
 
 " Wats de matter, Marse Paul ? You seems kin' 
 ob dumfouzled you does." 
 
 Gumbo's dialect was original with himself. It 
 was neither the pure English of the Lovelaces nor 
 the broad patois of the field hands, but a mixture 
 of the two ; and it was very unstable. At times it 
 resembled the one extreme; again it closely ap- 
 proached the other. In addition he interlarded and 
 embellished his conversation with resonant polysyl-
 
 30 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 labic words. It mattered not that he did not know 
 their meaning or that they were verbal monstrosi- 
 ties, the like of which was never known before 
 he loved them as a mother loves her children, and 
 held them up for public admiration. So, when he 
 accused Paul of seeming " dumfouzled," his mean- 
 ing was beyond human comprehension. 
 
 " I declar' ! Marse Paul, you mus' be dumfouzled ; 
 you doesn't hear nuffin I says." 
 
 Paul looked up and asked : 
 
 " Were you speaking to me, Gumbo ? " 
 
 " Were I speakin' to you ! Marse Paul, you's clean 
 decrastinated whar you am. W'at in de worl's de 
 matter wid you ? " 
 
 The younger man smiled in spite of himself. 
 Gumbo's absurdities were refreshing. 
 
 " I was thinking," he answered as he unfastened 
 his cloak and flung it loose from his neck. 
 
 " Is you in trouble, Marse Paul ? " 
 
 "I am worried, Gumbo that is all." 
 
 " W'at erbout? " 
 
 " I may not tell you all, but I'm going to leave 
 here soon ; and probably I shall never come back. I 
 must seek a home for myself, elsewhere." 
 
 " Whar you gwine ? " 
 
 " I don't know yet back to England, perhaps." 
 
 "Co'se you'll take me, Marse Paul. I couldn't 
 stay here widout you, nohow 'deed I couldn't." 
 
 " When I go, Gumbo, I must leave you behind. I 
 cannot "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 31 
 
 " Doesn't I belong to you, Marse Paul ? " 
 
 "Yes, but " 
 
 " Den wa't you mean by abscodin' me in dat 
 fashion? Fse gwine wid you, Marse Paul dat's 
 all ! " 
 
 Gumbo said this with an obstinate shake of his 
 woolly head. 
 
 " Surely you wouldn't wish to leave Hester and 
 Aunt Caroline ? " Paul remarked, the shadow of a 
 smile flitting about his beardless lips. 
 
 " Does you want to leave 'em, Marse Paul ? " was 
 the negro's answer. 
 
 " No; but I'm compelled to go you're not." 
 
 Paul was arguing the question with his servant 
 simply to divert his own thoughts, and not with the 
 intent of convincing the black. But Gumbo was 
 in dead earnest, and thus replied : 
 
 " Isn't de dorg dispelled to trabel wid his master? 
 Does you dispose fo' a minute, Marse Paul, dat I's 
 gwine to let you go 'way widout me to take keer ob 
 you?" 
 
 " Very well we shall see, Gumbo," Graydon 
 answered ; and again relapsed into his moody rev- 
 erie. The negro was not satisfied. 
 
 " Wat you gwine f o', Marse Paul ? " 
 
 " To seek my fortune," answered the other with- 
 out looking up. 
 
 " Isn't you happy an' distented here? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "W'y?"
 
 32 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " I may not tell you. Don't question me further." 
 
 " Ol' Marse George meant fo' you to marry Miss 
 Hester, an' sheer de plantation wid 'er." 
 
 Paul started. 
 
 " How do you know, Gumbo ? " 
 
 " Bekase dis nigger heerd him an' de ol' missus 
 discoursin' de subjeck, jes' a sho't time 'fo' he died." 
 
 Graydon turned upon the slave and said sternly : 
 
 " Gumbo, let us drop the subject I'm going away 
 it doesn't matter why. You are not to mention a 
 word of this to anyone." 
 
 They were ascending toward the foot hills of the 
 Alleghenies. The road grew rougher and steeper, 
 dwindled to a mere bypath, along which they were 
 compelled to ride single file, and wound here and 
 there through the intricate labyrinth of the wood. 
 After about an hour of hard riding, they came upon 
 a small clearing among the trees, in the center of 
 which stood a commodious cabin of hewed logs. The 
 ears of the two riders were greeted with a discord- 
 ant chorus of yelps and barks, as a half dozen mon- 
 grel curs came bounding across the open space 
 toward them. 
 
 A tall, rawboned mountaineer, gun in hand, was 
 leaning against the corner of the house. The cabin 
 stood upon a small plateau : and at its back rose a 
 rock-ribbed spur of the mountain. 
 
 This was the home of Isaac Meeks and family. 
 
 lis landed estate consisted of a few acres of wooded 
 
 hillside, seamed and furrowed by rocky ravines.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 33 
 
 His cabin, cow and a few hogs not counting his 
 rifle and dogs, which he deemed of vastly more im- 
 portance were his earthy all. But Meeks was a 
 contented soul. He required but little to render him 
 happy and he had it. He cultivated a small plat 
 of ground or rather his wife and children did 
 and raised what corn, potatoes and other vegetables 
 the family needed. The cow furnished milk; and 
 what meat the fat porkers, that ran wild in the 
 woods, failed to supply, Meeks procured from the 
 mountains with his trusty rifle. As for the rough 
 clothing, part of it was made from the skins of 
 the wild animals he trapped and shot, and the re- 
 mainder he procured from farmers in the valley, 
 bartering peltries and wild meat for linsey-woolsey. 
 His family was composed of his wife and two 
 children, a boy and a girl, aged twelve and ten years 
 respectively, and a niece, Marie Fontanelle. Nancy 
 Meeks, the wife and mother, was as tall, rawboned 
 and ugly as her worthy spouse; but in disposition 
 she differed from him materially. Both were un- 
 couth and illiterate, but possessed of native indepen- 
 dence and shrewdness. Here, however, the similar- 
 ity ended. Mr. Meeks was a born philosopher, who 
 loved to live near to nature's heart and cared for 
 little else. With him, to hunt and trap was the aim 
 and end of existence. He thoroughly enjoyed the 
 primitive life he led. His wants were few, and the 
 woods and streams supplied them. He had no am- 
 bition to be other than he was. His only concern 
 3
 
 34 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 was that the settlements were drawing nearer and 
 nearer to his mountain retreat. 
 
 It was far different with his worthy spouse. She 
 wanted to do something and be something in the 
 world. She was energetic and industrious, and 
 longed for the chance to acquire riches. She was 
 discontented with her hard lot, and envied her more 
 fortunate neighbors in the valley. This disposition 
 on his wife's part was a continual source of annoy- 
 ance to Isaac Meeks She called him lazy and shift- 
 less, and railed at him continually. At first he paid 
 little heed to her words, escaping to the woods 
 when she became too insistent; but of late she had 
 allowed him no peace neither day nor night 
 insisting that he sell the little home and emigrate to 
 a more favorable locality, till the poor fellow was al- 
 most distracted 
 
 Marie Fontanelle was the only child of Isaac 
 Meeks's oldest sister. The girl was lovely, with the 
 fair beauty the old masters loved to paint. Her hair 
 was like threads of virgin gold ; and her large blue 
 eyes had in them the tint of the overarching heavens. 
 She was of medium height and perfect in form and 
 feature. In her nature was combined the sturdy vir- 
 tues and keen common sense of her Virginia mother 
 and the sparkling wit and alert vivacity of her 
 French father She was eighteen years old, and had 
 a fair education for the day and community in which 
 she lived. That she possessed a rudimentary knowl- 
 edge of books was due to the fact that she had spent
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 35 
 
 the first fifteen years of her life with an aunt in 
 Richmond. When this aunt died, Marie came to 
 make her home in the cabin of her uncle, for she had 
 no other relatives. 
 
 Some nineteen years before the time of which we 
 write, Jacques Fontanelle, a French fur trader from 
 Canada, found his way into the valley of the Shen- 
 andoah. Here he met and loved Ruth Meeks, the 
 rustic belle of the settlement. His love was re- 
 turned, and a few months after his arrival the two 
 were secretly married. When the Meeks family 
 became aware of it, they were furiously angry, and 
 accused her of everlastingly disgracing the family. 
 It is true that they had nothing to boast of in the 
 way of social prestige, and that honest Jacques Fon- 
 tanelle was a credit to them; but they considered 
 him the prince of Ishmaelites for was he not a 
 Frenchman ! 
 
 The feeling of the Meeks family, toward Fonta- 
 nelle, will be more readily understood, if it be re- 
 membered that his marriage to Ruth occurred a few 
 years after the close of the French and Indian war, 
 and while the war spirit against his nation was still 
 rife in every English settlement. The voluble 
 Frenchman was not lacking in personal courage, 
 and he bitterly and boldly resented the Meeks' inter- 
 ference. The result was an open feud. Jacques was 
 compelled to flee for his life, with a half dozen long- 
 rifles belching flame at his heels; and Ruth dis-
 
 36 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 consolate and broken-hearted died on giving birth 
 to Marie. 
 
 " Well, I've been a-waitin' fer you quite a bit. Are 
 you all ready fer the hunt ? " was the frank greeting 
 of Meeks to the newcomers, when the dogs had been 
 cowed. 
 
 " All ready," was Paul's reply. But he kept look- 
 ing toward the cabin, and did not show a readiness 
 to depart. 
 
 " She ain't there ! " chuckled the good-natured 
 Isaac, shouldering his rifle and starting toward the 
 woods ; " she's gone down to the corn-patch, to help 
 Nancy shuck out a basket o' corn. You can see her 
 when we come back. Le's mosey it's gittin' late." 
 
 Paul heaved a sigh as he shouldered his rifle. He 
 was not content to go upon the hunt without first 
 seeing Marie. 
 
 As the three men disappeared among the trees, 
 Mrs. Meeks and Marie, bearing a basket of corn 
 between them, came around the corner of the cabin 
 and entered the door.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 AT three o'clock in the afternoon, the men returned, 
 tired and hungry, but bearing in triumph the 
 skin and a part of the carcass of a huge black bear. 
 They partook heartily of the meal, consisting of bear 
 steak, corn bread and milk, that Mrs. Meeks hur- 
 riedly prepared for them. Paul saw Marie pick up 
 a heavy wooden pail and start for the spring a hun- 
 dred yards from the cabin, and he joined her. 
 
 " Have the horses in readiness, Gumbo," he said, 
 as he took the pail from Marie's hand and walked 
 at her side. 
 
 " All right, Marse Paul," answered the obedient 
 black. 
 
 The two young people walked on in silence, to- 
 ward the spring in the ravine. Marie was the first 
 to speak. Turning her sweet, but troubled, face 
 toward the young man towering above her, she 
 asked : 
 
 " You are silent and thoughtful, my Paul. What 
 troubles you ? " 
 
 He slipped his arm around her waist, and, bend- 
 ing down, kissed her upturned face as he replied : 
 
 " I'm in trouble, Marie mine. I must go away 
 and leave you." 
 
 (37)
 
 38 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 She started from his embrace, and a startled look 
 crept into her face. Was Nancy Meeks right, then ? 
 Had Paul Graydon been playing with her affections, 
 for his own pastime? Did he mean to leave her, 
 never to return ? She could not believe him so base. 
 But what did he mean ? Her thoughts were reflect- 
 ed in her countenance ; and Paul Graydon read them 
 as from an open book. Opening his arms, he step- 
 ped toward her, crying: 
 
 " No ! A thousand times no, Marie not that ! 
 You do me great injustice. When you've heard ail 
 I have to tell you, you'll have no place in your heart 
 for mistrust." 
 
 She sprang into his outstretched arms, and, nest- 
 ling her head upon his bosom, sobbed : 
 
 " I do love and trust you, Paul ! But what does 
 it mean that you must leave me here alone ! I was 
 unhappy until you came into my life. I never knew 
 what love and sympathy meant. I can't bear to 
 think of trying to live without seeing you! Why 
 must you go, Paul ? " 
 
 He pressed her to his heart, without speaking. 
 She noticed this ; and there was a shade of annoy- 
 ance in her voice, as she repeated: 
 
 " Why must you go ? " 
 
 " Let's walk on to the spring," he answered ; " I'll 
 tell you as we go. I may not tell you all at present, 
 dear; but I can't remain at my aunt's. Besides, I 
 must go to build a nest for you. I've no home to 
 take you to, now. As soon as I'm settled, I'll come
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 39 
 
 for you. Until that time you must remain here. 
 Will you pray for my success, Marie ? " 
 
 " Yes, Paul," she replied slowly, her eyes bent 
 upon the ground ; " but I do so hate to have you 
 leave me. I've a premonition we shall never meet 
 again. And what shall I do here ? Of course Uncle 
 Isaac is kind to me, in his rough way; but Aunt 
 Nancy doesn't always like me, and sometimes she 
 she " 
 
 " What ? " asked Paul, quickly. 
 
 " Oh, she scolds, and says I'm lazy and trifling. 
 And I don't like to be her drudge. Can't I go with 
 you, Paul ? " 
 
 They were standing by the spring ; and she looked 
 up at him pleadingly, all her soul in her tear-dim- 
 med eyes. 
 
 " It may not be," he answered gently, laying his 
 hand upon her shoulder. " But the parting shall 
 not be for long. The months will soon slip by 
 and then how happy we shall be! Don't worry, 
 sweetheart." 
 
 She smiled through her tears, and reached up her 
 mouth for a kiss. She had perfect confidence in him 
 now. He kissed her, and playfully putting her to 
 one side began to fill the pail at the spring. A mis- 
 chievous light flashed in her blue eyes, and catching 
 up the gourd dipper she filled it vrith the sparkling 
 water and slyly poured a stream down the back of 
 his neck, as he bent to his task. Then, with a ripple 
 of laughter, she bounded away along the path toward
 
 40 7.V THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 the cabin. He took up the heavy pail and followed 
 her, slopping the water over his shoes in his awk- 
 ward efforts to overtake her. She nimbly danced 
 and gyrated in front of him, until he was breathless 
 and panting from his exertions. Then she suddenly 
 returned to his side and taking one side of the 
 pail assisted him with his burden, all the time call- 
 ing him endearing names and glancing at him 
 roguishly from the corners of her eyes. 
 
 Paul looked at her admiringly and laughed im- 
 moderately. In his estimation everything Marie did 
 or said was perfectly right and proper. 
 
 Before they were half way to the house her whole 
 deportment changed; again she was sad and de- 
 jected. But Paul cheered and comforted her, by 
 telling her that he would not remain away long, 
 and that this should be their only parting. At the 
 cabin door he left her, and mounting his horse 
 disappeared down the narrow trail. Marie watched 
 him with tears in her eyes and a sickening dread in 
 her fond young heart. 
 
 It was dark when Paul and Gumbo reached the 
 plantation. The soft, warm light streaming from 
 the small-paned windows seemed to beckon them as 
 they drew near. Hester met her cousin at the door, 
 and smilingly informed him that supper was ready 
 and that she and her mother had been anxiously 
 awaiting his coming. The two entered the sitting 
 room, where Mrs. Lovelace greeted Paul cordially. 
 He and Hester assisted the mother to the dining
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAJR 41 
 
 room, and all sat down to their evening meal. Mrs. 
 Lovelace asked Paul to recount the adventures of 
 the day; and she and her daughter looked grave 
 when he told of the fight with the bear, and laughed 
 immoderately at his recital of Meeks' quaint remarks 
 and Gumbo's unctuous absurdities. 
 
 The meal passed very pleasantly. At first Paul had 
 a feeling of constraint; but as Hester appeared to 
 have forgotten the morning's conversation, he was 
 soon at ease. Supper over, the three returned 
 to the sitting room and chatted merrily for an 
 hour or more. Take it all in all, it was the most 
 pleasant evening they had spent together in a long 
 time; and the young man could but feel that it 
 was a very comfortable home, and one that it would 
 grieve him much to leave. After a time, Hes- 
 ter excused herself by saying that she wished to 
 write a letter, and left the room. Feeling that his 
 aunt would prefer to be left alone, Paul arose to go 
 to his own apartments; but Mrs. Lovelace stopped 
 him by saying: 
 
 " Sit down, my boy. Don't be in a hurry you 
 don't often spend an evening with me." 
 
 " Certainly, aunt, I shall stay, if you wish. I 
 thought you were tired, perhaps, and would rather 
 be left to yourself." 
 
 " I've been very lonely since the death of your 
 dear uncle, Paul. You and Hester are my only com- 
 panions for, as you know, I'm not able to go to 
 the home of my nearest neighbor. I miss each of
 
 42 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 you very much, when you're out of the house. I've 
 always regarded you as a son ; you're as dear to me 
 as my own daughter. I believe it would kill me to 
 lose either Hester or you you're all I have left to 
 love." 
 
 Paul saw she was aware of his intended depart- 
 ure, and would oppose it. He braced himself for the 
 ordeal. He did not look at her, yet he felt her eyes 
 fixed upon him; and knew that she was studying 
 his countenance, and that she expected him to say 
 something. 
 
 " I've no doubt of your sincere love for me, Aunt 
 Caroline," he replied. " You and Uncle George 
 have always treated me as your own son ; and I re- 
 turn your affection. I glean from what you've just 
 said that Hester has told you of my intention of go- 
 ing away. Believe me, I'm loath to go, but there's 
 no choice left me." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I've nothing, and I've played the gentleman too 
 long, already. I wish to earn my own living to 
 acquire wealth by my own effort." 
 
 " You say that you have nothing, Paul ? " 
 
 " I said that yes." 
 
 " Your uncle intended you should share equally 
 with Hester; there's no call for your seeking your 
 fortune elsewhere." 
 
 " Aunt Caroline," answered Paul, earnestly, " do 
 you suppose for a moment that I would consent to 
 rob Hester, whom I love as a dear sister, of what's
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 43 
 
 rightfully hers? Do you think me base enough to 
 steal one-half her fortune, under the guise and name 
 of brother ? I cannot do it. As I told her this morn- 
 ing, you've been very good to me, a penniless 
 orphan ; but I can accept no more at your hands." 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace smiled serenely as she replied : 
 
 " My boy has false notions of his due and his 
 duty. Hester and I offer you this because your 
 uncle intended you should have it. It's yours, not 
 ours. Of course we don't care to divide the estate ; 
 and there's no reason for so doing. Everything is 
 yours and Hester's. Stay here and enjoy it with 
 her." 
 
 As she said this, she watched him narrowly to 
 note the effect of her words. Their eyes met ; but 
 he did not flinch. He understood her meaning fully, 
 but he made no sign. 
 
 " I am very sorry, aunt, but I can't do as you 
 wish." 
 
 " Why ? " And there was a chill in her voice. 
 
 " I've given you my reasons," he answered, 
 quietly. 
 
 " I don't consider them valid. Tell me, Paul, 
 what has given you such Quixotic notions ? " 
 
 " I've been thinking of leaving, for weeks." 
 
 " You've not answered my question." 
 
 " There's no need of rethreshing the straw, Aunt 
 Caroline. I don't know how to answer your ques- 
 tion." 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace remained silent for a few moments,
 
 44 
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 steadily gazing into the embers upon the hearth. 
 Paul moved uneasily in his chair. Turning upon 
 him suddenly, she completely surprised him by 
 asking: 
 
 " Paul, will you marry Hester, and share her for- 
 tune with her? It's the strong and earnest desire 
 of my heart that you should. It was your uncle's 
 wish. I haven't beaten about the bush. Will you 
 doit?" 
 
 He had been aware all along that it was coming ; 
 but he had not expected her to put it so bluntly. 
 For a moment he could say nothing. She had him 
 at a disadvantage, and, he imagined, was enjoying 
 his discomfiture. The thought helped him to call 
 up his latent will power and to assert himself. He 
 had been on the point of yielding to her desire, out 
 of sheer helplessness. She had asked a direct ques- 
 tion; he would give her a decisive answer. His 
 reply was almost cruel in its terseness. Fixing his 
 gaze upon her, he articulated the one word : 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You will not ? " she gasped. 
 
 " I will not." 
 
 "Your reason?" 
 
 " I don't love Hester in that way." 
 
 It was painfully silent in the big room. Not a 
 sound was to be heard, but the subdued breathing of 
 the two persons and the slow tick-tock of the tall 
 clock in the corner. A stick of wood tumbled from 
 the andirons and fell blazing upon the hearth. In
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 45 
 
 the flickering light it shed, Paul saw his aunt's pale 
 and emaciated countenance, and realized that the 
 tide of her anger was rising. Presently he heard 
 her saying though her voice sounded unreal and 
 far away : 
 
 " Bah ! What do two children like you and Hes- 
 ter know of love! You've lived so long together 
 that each has absorbed a part of the other. You're 
 much alike in many things ; but most alike in this 
 each loves the other without knowing it. And your 
 love isn't wholly the love of brother and sister; 
 unconsciously you're lovers. I'm not blind / can 
 see clearly. Let's have no more of this nonsense 
 this talk of the lack of love this babble of seek- 
 ing a fortune elsewhere. I'm sure that Hester loves 
 you well enough to marry you and make you a good 
 and true wife ; and, as you love no one else, you 
 surely love her or can easily learn to do so " 
 
 She hesitated momentarily, and he broke in : 
 
 " But I do love another, Aunt Caroline ! " 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " I love Marie Fontanelle." 
 
 She laughed a low, forced laugh and returned 
 sneeringly : 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I know a passing passion ! The 
 love a master may feel for a beautiful quadroon " 
 
 " Aunt Caroline ! " he interrupted and his 
 words fell like measured bits of ice ; " if you speak 
 thus of the woman I love, I'll not stay to hear you ! " 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that you are in earnest
 
 46 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 that you really fancy this ---this miss of doubt- 
 ful origin ? " 
 
 " I love Marie yes." 
 
 " And you intend to marry her ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 The tide of her anger had been rising, little by lit- 
 tle. Now it overleaped the bounds that she had set 
 for it, and swept over her. It washed her from her 
 moorings of self-restraint, and tossed her hither 
 and thither. She sank into its boiling depths, with a 
 gurgling moan ; arose to the surface, buffeting the 
 waves and raving half incoherently. Paul had never 
 seen his aunt so aroused before, and looked upon her 
 in wonder not unmixed with fear for her sanity. 
 
 " You dolt you idot ! " she cried shrilly. 
 " You dare to insult my daughter by preferring an 
 ignorant backwoods wench to her! For shame! 
 And you call yourself a gentleman! Paul, if you 
 marry this girl contrary to my wishes, you go out of 
 my house a beggar. Do you understand? A pen- 
 niless outcast! I won't own you I'm glad you 
 don't bear our name. You're mad to think of such 
 a thing. What has come over you ? I always gave 
 you credit for better sense ! In the name of reason, 
 how can you contemplate such an act ? Do you not 
 see that it means ruin to yourself to us all? I 
 may as well tell you that Hester loves you fondly. 
 And you would coolly and cruelly break her heart, 
 for the sake of a milk-and-water face ! What of the 
 French girl's antecedents of her relatives ? Have
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 47 
 
 you given the matter a thought? I'll not believe 
 you're in earnest you can't be! Tell me that 
 you're only jesting! " 
 
 Her mood had changed. Relieved from the tor- 
 rent of anger, she regained her self-control. She ut- 
 tered the last words brokenly and pleadingly her 
 frail body shaking as with an ague. Paul sat before 
 her, unmoved through it all, apparently, until her 
 voice faltered and the tears came to her eyes. Then 
 he forgot the harsh things she had said, and sincere- 
 ly pitied her. 
 
 " Aunt Caroline, what you ask can never be," he 
 answered kindly but firmly. " Let's look the matter 
 fairly in the face. I love Marie. I don't love Hes- 
 ter. I should be false to both, if I married the one 
 I do not love. There ! don't interrupt me let me 
 explain fully what I mean. I've a brother's love 
 for my cousin no more. It would be refined 
 cruelty to marry her under the circumstances 
 to marry her for her money. No one on earth is so 
 unhappy as a loving but unloved wife. Hester will 
 soon forget me that is, she will cease to regard 
 me as a lover and we shall all be happier for 
 the decision I've made. I wish fate had willed it 
 otherwise I'm very sorry to disappoint and grieve 
 those I love and respect. But it can't be." 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace sank back upon the sofa, exhausted. 
 She wearily closed her eyes, and was silent for sev- 
 eral minutes. At last she said in a weak but steady 
 tone of voice :
 
 48 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " At least you don't think of leaving us at once, 
 Paul?" 
 
 " I must go soon very soon. It is better so." 
 
 " You'll stay, surely, until we can procure an 
 efficient overseer ? " 
 
 " I don't think I'm so necessary to the successful 
 management of your plantation and affairs, Aunt 
 Caroline. However, I'll stay for a few days, until 
 you can make arrangements to your entire satisfac- 
 tion." 
 
 Something akin to a smile trembled about her 
 thin, straight lips, as she replied: 
 
 "Very well that's all. You may go now; I'm 
 tired." 
 
 She did not lift her eyelids nor move a muscle, 
 as he bade her good-night and left the room. Shortly 
 afterward, Hester came in to assist her mother to her 
 room. Arriving there, the invalid dropped into a 
 chair, sighing deeply. The daughter closed the door 
 and asked : 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I found him unreasonable and obdurate." 
 
 Hester Lovelace drooped visibly. A hopeless ex- 
 pression rested upon her countenance. 
 
 " I'm not surprised ; I knew that you could do 
 nothing with him. My dream is over." 
 
 " Stop ! " commanded Mrs. Lovelace, sternly. 
 " Do you not love him ? " 
 
 " With my whole soul ! " 
 
 " Listen, then. He shall be yours ! Do you hear
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 49 
 
 me ? He shall be yours ! I haven't played my last 
 nor highest card. I we will stop at nothing. Go 
 to bed now and may you sleep well." 
 
 Without another word, Hester assisted her moth- 
 er to retire, and withdrew. Mrs. Lovelace fell asleep, 
 a smile upon her worn face. 
 4
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 AT breakfast next morning, Paul's appearance 
 indicated that he had spent a restless night, 
 and Hester's swollen eyelids showed that she had 
 been weeping. But Mrs. Lovelace gave no sign of 
 worriment or loss of sleep. She was dignified and 
 collected, as usual, and did most of the talking, to 
 the relief of the young people, who felt unequal to 
 the task. The meal over, Paul went to superintend 
 some work on a distant part of the estate, and 
 mother and daughter were left alone. Mrs. Love- 
 lace occupied her accustomed place on the rigid sofa 
 in front of the fire, her emaciated fingers deftly 
 wielding the knitting needles, while the ball of 
 scarlet yarn in her lap turned over and over as she 
 pulled upon the thread. Hester sat near, her work 
 lying idle upon her knees and her dark eyes fas- 
 tened upon vacancy. 
 
 " Hester ! " The young woman started from her 
 reverie. 
 
 "What is it, mother?" 
 
 " I told you last night that today we'd discuss 
 methods of bringing Paul to his senses. I've formu- 
 lated a plan." 
 
 Contrary to what Mrs. Lovelace expected, Hester 
 (50)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 51 
 
 evinced little interest. The younger woman again 
 turned toward the fire, and relaxed into listless in- 
 difference. The elder woman was surprised and 
 puzzled. 
 
 " Hester, don't you want to marry Paul ? " she 
 cried. 
 
 " Certainly I do." 
 
 " Then what do you mean ? " 
 
 " There's no use planning and scheming, mother ; 
 it's not to be," the daughter answered, sadly. " We 
 may as well accept the inevitable." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said the other, angrily. " If you 
 submit in this imbecile way, you are no daughter of 
 mine. Nothing's impossible to those who work and 
 wait. Listen ! I tell you he shall be yours, if you'll 
 do as I wish." 
 
 A perceptible change came over Hester. She 
 showed more of animation in her voice and attitude, 
 as she inquired: 
 
 "What shall I do?" 
 
 " Permit me to plan for you and then execute 
 what I plan." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Marie Fontanelle must be removed from your 
 path from Paul's sight." 
 
 Startled and horrified, Hester exclaimed. 
 
 " Removed how ? " 
 
 " She must disappear, leaving no trace behind 
 her." 
 
 " You mean to to murder her ? "
 
 52 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 " Hardly so bad as that." And Mrs. Lovelace 
 laughed uneasily. " But suppose it becomes neces- 
 sary to murder her, in order to accomplish our ends. 
 What then? What's her life compared with your 
 happiness? But it isn't necessary to go so far. I 
 know a better and safer way." 
 
 The shocked look had not left Hester's face, as she 
 said feelingly: 
 
 " Mother, I never saw you hard and cruel before. 
 What does it mean ? " 
 
 Fierce determination was in Caroline Lovelace's 
 face, and settled resolve in her voice, as she replied : 
 
 " That I'm fully determined you and Paul shall 
 marry, no matter who may oppose. And woe betide 
 the one who stands in the road leading to the ful- 
 fillment of my desires! Are you ready to hear my 
 plans?" 
 
 " I'm ready," answered Hester flushed and ex- 
 cited. 
 
 " It's this, then : we'll send Paul to Richmond, to 
 negotiate the sale of the tobacco crop. While he's 
 absent, we'll buy Isaac Meeks' little home and hire 
 him to leave the country, taking the Fontanelle girl 
 with him." 
 
 " Yes ; but suppose Isaac refuses to sell ? " 
 
 " He'll not we'll offer him a price he can't af- 
 ford to refuse." 
 
 " Miss Fontanelle may decline to go with her 
 uncle." 
 
 " There are several reasons why she'll do nothing
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR S3 
 
 of the kind. First, she has no home but with them ; 
 second, we can hire Isaac and his wife to take her 
 by force, should she prove rebellious. They're not 
 above bribery and money will do anything." 
 
 " It hasn't bought me Paul's love ! " 
 
 " It has not but it will! " 
 
 " Oh, mother ! " And Hester clasped and un- 
 clasped her hands over her knees. " Do you believe 
 we shall be able to accomplish all this? " 
 
 " Of course we shall ! And when the girl's safely 
 beyond Paul's sight, he'll turn to you for solace. 
 Then will come your triumph and happiness. Cheer 
 up now. This evening I shall ask your cousin to go 
 to Richmond. If you chance to be present, don't 
 take exceptions to anything I may say. Treat Paul 
 as you've always treated him. Give him to under- 
 stand you love him, and are sorry he thinks of leav- 
 ing us. Men are peculiar they must be coddled 
 and coaxed, whipped and driven. Leave the mat- 
 ter in my hands ; and you'll be happy." 
 
 A strange change was taking place in this mother 
 and daughter. The stronger and more worthy mind 
 was gradually but surely yielding to the baleful in- 
 fluence of the weaker and more unworthy. A week 
 before, Hester would have shuddered and turned 
 away from the base plot she now so calmly contem- 
 plated. By nature, Mrs. Lovelace was not a bad 
 woman ; but she would have sold her soul, if neces- 
 sary, to accomplish the overmastering desire of her 
 heart. Hester, urged forward by the goadings of un-
 
 54 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 requited love, was blindly following whithersoever 
 her mother led. Neither paused to ask what the end 
 would be. 
 
 That evening the three sat together in the big, 
 comfortable sitting room. The breath of frost out- 
 side gave warning that winter was on the way. 
 Paul lounged in an easy chair, his booted heels 
 stretched toward the crackling fire and his cheek 
 upon his palm. Hester sat by him, her hand rest- 
 ing upon the arm of "his chair, while Airs. Lovelace 
 occupied her place upon the sofa. They had been 
 talking of neighborhood matters, but a constrained 
 silence had fallen. Mrs. Lovelace was the first 
 to break it. 
 
 " Where do you think of going when you leave 
 us, Paul?" 
 
 The nephew drew himself together. 
 
 " I don't know I haven't determined." 
 
 " You talk of leaving us within a few days, and 
 yet you don't know where you're going ? " 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace showed her surprise in her voice. 
 
 " I've thought of going to New York or Boston," 
 Paul answered quietly. 
 
 " What would you do there? " 
 
 " I'm not certain go into business, perhaps." 
 
 " And your money ? " 
 
 " I have none I realize that I should be com- 
 pelled to start at the bottom of the ladder." 
 
 " You could sell your horse and servant."
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 55 
 
 Paul knew she was striving to make him feel how 
 helpless he was, but he answered stoutly : 
 
 " I think too much of my horse to part with him ; 
 and, as for Gumbo, I will not sell him. When I 
 leave I shall give him his freedom." 
 
 " The black would bring you a thousand dollars." 
 
 " You mean the horse, Aunt Caroline ? " 
 
 " Nonsense ! I mean Gumbo." 
 
 " No doubt ; but I shall not sell him." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " It isn't necessary that I give you my reason, 
 aunt; you know I don't believe in slavery. Beside, 
 Gumbo has been a dear companion and friend to me 
 all the years since my arrival in America. It would 
 break my heart to sell the faithful fellow I could 
 never forgive myself." 
 
 Caroline Lovelace laughed a low, scornful laugh ; 
 and Hester's lip curled. 
 
 " You'll need a few dollars at least," his aunt 
 continued, " when you start upon your tour of 
 knight errantry. Gumbo can play Sancho Panza to 
 your Don Quixote; but what of the coins to jingle 
 in your purse? " 
 
 Paul kept his temper, under his aunt's merciless 
 fire of ridicule. 
 
 " Oh ! I have saved a few dollars. True, it's very 
 little ; but I trust it'll prove sufficient to pay my ex- 
 penses until I can find the opportunity to earn 
 more."
 
 5 6 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace had grown weary of the round- 
 about talk. 
 
 " Paul," she said, bluntly, " I want to give you a 
 chance to earn some money. Will you go to Rich- 
 mond, to negotiate the sale of the tobacco crop for 
 us ? I think we can do better by sending you there." 
 
 Paul was taken aback by her abruptness, but 
 asked quickly: 
 
 " When do you wish me to go ? " 
 
 " At once within a day or two." 
 
 " It would take me several weeks to go and come." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "I'll go but I'll accept nothing for my ser- 
 vices." 
 
 " I'll attend to that. When can you be ready ? " 
 
 " Tomorrow, if you wish." 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace could scarcely conceal her exulta- 
 tion, as she replied : 
 
 " You're kind, Paul ; and I shall not forget it. I 
 wish you could see your way clear and and 
 give up your idea of going away; but you know 
 your own business. You'd better retire early, if you 
 think of starting in the morning." 
 
 When he had gone, the two women looked at each 
 other in silence a moment. 
 
 " Do you think he suspects ? " Hester whispered, 
 moistening her dry lips with her tongue. 
 
 " I don't know I don't care. Once he is out of 
 the way, the game's ours. There's no retreating
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 57 
 
 now. Ah ! the glorious result will be worth all the 
 effort it costs." 
 
 Hester looked upon her mother and scarcely 
 knew her. The older woman's face wore a flushed 
 and triumphant expression, and her eyes had in 
 them a feverish unrest. Her bosom rose and fell, and 
 her lips usually so pale were red and hot. The 
 invalid had disappeared for the time. Stimulated 
 by the prospect of success, she was ready to do and 
 dare anything. 
 
 " Mother," cried Hester in anxiety, " you are 
 making yourself sick. Let's abandon the whole 
 thing." 
 
 " Never ! " was Mrs. Lovelace's decided answer. 
 
 " At any rate, you must go to bed now," insisted 
 the daughter. 
 
 " I'll go to bed yes ; but not to sleep. I must 
 know neither sleep nor rest until you are Paul Gray- 
 don's wife." 
 
 They passed through the door leading to their 
 sleeping apartments ; and the great sitting room was 
 silent and deserted peopled only by the dancing 
 rays of the dying firelight, and silent save for the 
 querulous clock in the shadow. 
 
 The next forenoon Paul and Gumbo set out for 
 Richmond. Two hours later, a slave carrying a let- 
 ter was on his way to the home of Isaac Meeks. 
 Mrs. Lovelace did not believe in delay.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A STORM was raging at the Meeks homestead ; not 
 a devastating tornado that fells forest trees and 
 lays waste plantations, but an irritating whirlwind of 
 fretful faultfinding a tempest in the domestic tea- 
 pot of the Meeks household. These storms were not 
 infrequent. They came periodically, raged furious- 
 ly, and died out suddenly. Each began as a freshen- 
 ing breeze, grew to a howling hurricane, and ended 
 in a downpour of tears. It took but little to start 
 one ; the fall of a few degrees in the domestic barom- 
 eter, the meeting of two countercurrents of connu- 
 bial opinion and the storm was on. They came 
 always from one direction from the quarter of the 
 compass occupied by Mrs. Meeks. 
 
 Strange as it may seem, on these occasions Isaac 
 Meeks sought refuge outdoors. Let the weather 
 be what it might, he preferred the howling elements 
 without to the howling spouse within. 
 
 He was well named meekness personified 
 and was philosopher enough to know that the way to 
 avoid a storm is to get out of its track. On this par- 
 ticular occasion, he had left the house as soon as he 
 had discovered that the mercury had fallen one de- 
 gree. Leaning against the sunny side of the stable, 
 (58)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 59 
 
 he was drawing whiffs of consolation from his corn- 
 cob pipe. 
 
 He had escaped none too soon. He could hear oc- 
 casional outbursts, as he sat with his back against the 
 log stable. Marie was the innocent cause of the 
 falling barometer and consequent disturbance of the 
 elements ; and toward the hapless girl was directed 
 the full force of Nancy Meeks' cyclone of rage and 
 abuse. The niece had not returned from the spring 
 as soon as her aunt had reason to expect. 
 
 " A purty gal, you are, Marie Fontanelle ! You 
 ain't worth y'r salt not by half! " the irate female 
 shouted at the top of her voice. " Send you to the 
 spring an' tell you to hurry, an' you're gone a half 
 day a'most. Me a waitin' here fer that water, an' 
 you you good-fer-nothin' settin' down there on 
 the bank, a dreamin' y'r foolish dreams o' love! 
 Ain't you 'shamed o' y'rself say ? " 
 
 " Aunt Nancy ' Marie began soothingly ; but 
 that was as far as she got. 
 
 " Shut up shut right up ! " interrupted the 
 older woman, shaking her hard and horny fist at 
 the other. " Don't you dare to give me none o' y'r 
 sass ! All you're fit fer is to be a burden on some- 
 body. Jest think of y'r mother, an' the trouble she 
 brung on the fam'ly. I'd think it'd be a lesson to 
 you ! But no, here you are, startin' off the same 
 way. You don't seem to 'predate a good home. 
 It's in you though who could 'xpect anything else
 
 60 IN THE DA YS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 of a Meeks, or anyone that has a drop o' the Meeks 
 blood in the'r veins ! " 
 
 She paused for breath. Marie sat staring through 
 the window, and said nothing. This so enraged 
 Mrs. Meeks, that she seemed in imminent danger 
 of an apoplectic seizure. She literally gnashed her 
 teeth. 
 
 " Why don't you answer me, you sullen, poutin' 
 thing ? " she foamed, stamping her foot and rolling 
 the sleeves of her linsey-woolsey dress above her 
 bony elbows. 
 
 Marie essayed to speak, but her aunt stopped her 
 with: 
 
 " Don't say a word not a single word ! I won't 
 have it d' you hear? Set there an' pout if you 
 want to ! You're jest like y'r uncle 'fraid to take 
 y'r own part ; just like all the Meekses ! An' you're 
 bound to git into trouble that's what you are 
 jest like y'r mother did afore you ! An' then what'll 
 you do? You can't stay here, if anything happens 
 to you. I won't be disgraced by you. I've talked 
 and talked till my tongue's tired. You've had fair 
 warnin' but you won't listen to nothin' ! " 
 
 Marie covered her face with her hands and wept 
 silently, not because her aunt had scolded her she 
 was used to that but because Mrs. Meeks had 
 spoken disrespectfully of Paul and of her dear dead 
 mother. A rapid change came over the angry wom- 
 an, as she looked upon the weeping girl. Her storm 
 of passion subsided as suddenly as it had arisen.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 61 
 
 Her features began to twitch, and her angular frame 
 shook with suppressed sobs. Two bright tears es- 
 caped from the corners of her eyes and rolled down 
 her furrowed cheeks and then she gave up the 
 struggle and cried blubberingly. By some myster- 
 ious process of reasoning, she persuaded herself that 
 she was the injured party. 
 
 "That's just the way with you, Marie!" she 
 wailed, wringing her hands and pacing up and down 
 the floor. " I can't say a word to you not one 
 word that you don't let on that I've hurt y'r feel- 
 in's. An' you know I didn't mean to do anything o' 
 the kind. I've got a bad temper I know I have 
 but I'm put upon from mornin' to night, from one 
 year's end to another. Then if I say a word, y'r 
 Uncle Isaac runs out o' the house an' you break 
 down an' bawl. I know I oughtn't to scold you an' 
 say mean things about you you're a good gal 
 but I didn't mean it. Marie you know I didn't ! 
 I jest can't bear to see you fooled by that 'ristocratic 
 upstart that's all. Fergit that I ever said any- 
 thing 'bout y'r mother, gal ; she was a nice woman 
 but she got fooled into marryin' a Frenchman ; an' 
 I don't want to stand by and see you made a fool of 
 fer life. I jest can't I can't ! " 
 
 She strode over to Marie, and flinging her mus- 
 cular arms around the girl's neck, tenderly kissed 
 her brow and golden hair, murmuring: 
 
 " You're my oldest gal I can't never look on 
 you in no other way ; an' I'm all the mother you've
 
 62 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 got. I'm sorry I scolded you an' made you cry 
 but I don't scold you any more'n I do the others, do 
 I? Tell me that you'll fergive an' fergit all I've 
 said an' done ! " 
 
 Marie kissed the careworn face of her aunt, and 
 assured her she freely and fully forgave her. She 
 knew that the poor woman's lot was a grinding one, 
 and that her contrition was genuine. The storm was 
 past, and the sun was shining from a cloudless sky. 
 
 A moment later the door opened a few inches, and 
 Mr. Meeks timidly thrust his head into the room. 
 Marie was removing the fragrant corn-pone from 
 the Dutch-oven upon the hearth ; and her Aunt 
 Nancy was placing the pewter plates upon the rough 
 deal table. Emboldened by what he saw, the re- 
 doubtable Isaac .who had the courage to attack a 
 mountain lion single-handed, but who had a whole- 
 some fear of his wife's displeasure pushed first 
 one foot and then its fellow through the aperture he 
 had made, and stood within the room. Mrs. Meeks, 
 turning suddenly, caught sight of her husband 
 standing near the door, irresolution depicted upon 
 his countenance. 
 
 " Set down, Isaac," she remarked, pleasantly ; 
 " dinner'll be ready in a few minutes." 
 
 The words had a reassuring effect upon the hun- 
 ter, but he did not sit down. Instead, he uneasily 
 shifted from one foot to the other as he essayed to 
 catch his wife's eye, all the while fumbling and turn- 
 ing a white object he held in his hands. Failing to
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 63 
 
 attract her attention, he cleared his throat and fal- 
 tered : 
 
 " Nancy, I that is, would you jest step out here 
 a minute ? I want to speak to you." 
 
 Mrs. Meeks was surprised. He was not in the 
 habit of consulting her in regard to his affairs. 
 
 " Well, what d' you want ? Out with it an' 
 don't stand there gawkin' like a luny ! " Her nerves 
 were still on edge, and his indirect methods of pro- 
 cedure irritated her. 
 
 " Step out here ; I want to see you a little bit," he 
 managed to say. 
 
 " Can't you see me here ? " 
 
 " Xo ; I want to see you alone." 
 
 " Well, of all things ! " she ejaculated, rolling 
 down her sleeves and starting toward the door. 
 " What in the nation ails the man ! " 
 
 Mr. Meeks led the way and she followed him. 
 Stepping out upon the log steps, she closed the 
 heavy door after her and awaited his pleasure. 
 
 " Nancy," he began impressively and in a semi- 
 whisper, " here's a letter ; an' the nigger that fetched 
 it says " 
 
 " What nigger?" she interrupted sharply, glanc- 
 ing around the corner of the house. 
 
 " That'n out there on the horse," he answered 
 jerking his thumb over his shoulder, toward the 
 stable. 
 
 She looked in the direction indicated and saw a 
 negro seated upon a gray horse, just beyond the
 
 64 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 woodpile. The horse was champing the bit and paw- 
 ing the soft earth impatiently, but the rider sat with 
 half-closed eyes, as motionless as a figure of polished 
 ebony. 
 
 " Who is he ? " Nancy inquired in a low, cautious 
 tone. 
 
 " One o' the Lovelace slaves," came the reply in 
 the same guarded undertone. 
 
 " You say he brung a letter ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Who from?" 
 
 " Mrs. Lovelace ; an' he says we ain't to let any- 
 body see it ? " 
 
 " Have you read it?" 
 
 " I tried to, but I can't spell it all out." 
 
 He handed it to her, and watched her eagerly as 
 she struggled through the labyrinth of unfamiliar 
 characters. She spelled it out word by word, halt- 
 ing and stammering painfully. The letter ran as 
 follows : 
 " Mr. Isaac Meeks and Wife : 
 
 " I desire that you come to see me at once. I wish 
 to confer with you in regard to a matter that is 
 occasioning me a great deal of annoyance and anx- 
 iety. I can assure you that you are equally inter- 
 ested with myself. It means money in your pockets 
 to come. Come today and let no one see this com- 
 munication or know your destination. It will be 
 necessary that you stay over night with me ; arrange 
 your household affairs accordingly. A conveyance
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 65 
 
 is in waiting at the Rock Spring. Hoping to have 
 the pleasure of seeing you this evening, I am your 
 most obedient servant, 
 
 " CAROLINE LOVELACE." 
 
 Nancy Meeks could not decipher the whole of the 
 missive, nor fathom the meaning of it to her entire 
 satisfaction ; but she gleaned from it that the writer 
 wished to see her husband and herself upon impor- 
 tant business, at once. Also, in a vague sort of way, 
 she realized that it was necessary to observe great 
 secrecy and best of all, the letter mentioned 
 money! She was trembling with excitement, and 
 the paper shook in her knotty hands. She spelled it 
 through again, to make sure that she had read aright. 
 Yes, there was no mistake ! It said " money in your 
 pockets." Money! Was the dream of her sordid 
 life to be realized at last? She clutched the bit of 
 white paper spasmodically, as though she already 
 had a pile of glittering yellow coins within her grasp. 
 Isaac's patience gave way, and he broke in upon her 
 blissful reverie by asking : 
 
 " What do you make out of it ? " 
 
 " It's a letter from Caroline Lovelace the rich 
 woman in the valley," she answered, setting her 
 arms akimbo and looking her husband full in the 
 face. 
 
 " Yes, I know ; but what does she want ? " 
 
 " Wants us to come an' see her on business." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 5
 
 66 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Maybe you're right I couldn't jest make it 
 out. What's up, do you s'pose?" 
 
 " I don't know ; but I s'pect it's somethin' 'bout 
 that there nephew o' hers, an' our Marie." 
 
 Mr. Meeks looked puzzled, and meditatively 
 scratched his head. He could not understand what 
 he or his wife had to do with Paul Graydon's af- 
 fairs. If Paul wanted to marry Marie, he, Isaac, 
 had not the slightest objection. It was a mistake 
 for people to marry at all he admitted that but 
 then they would do it ! Paul and Marie had a per- 
 fect right to make fools of themselves, if they so 
 desired ! Isaac failed to comprehend what his wife 
 meant, and so expressed himself. 
 
 " It don't make no differ'nce whether you under- 
 stand 'r not," was the decided answer of Nancy ; 
 " we're goin' down to see Mrs. Lovelace this very 
 day. Tell the nigger we'll be along in an hour 'r 
 so ther's a carriage waitin' fer us at the Rock 
 Spring. Be spry, now; we must hurry up an' git 
 ready." 
 
 Mr. Meeks went to deliver his wife's message to 
 the waiting slave, while she entered the cabin and 
 began hurried preparations for their departure. She 
 arrayed herself in her best hood and linsey-woolsey 
 gown, carefully brushed and smoothed her coarse 
 iron-gray hair, greased her heavy shoes with bear's 
 grease and announced herself as ready. The easy- 
 going Isaac would have dispensed with ablution and 
 toilet, had not the good wife taken him in hand. She
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 67 
 
 scrubbed his wrinkled face and neck, combed his 
 sparse hair and straggling beard, and compelled him 
 to don a clean hunting shirt. Then she stood back 
 and looked upon her handiwork, admiringly. 
 
 The two children, Johnnie and Annie, viewed 
 these preparations in open-eyed wonder; and snuf- 
 fled and pouted when they were informed that they 
 could not accompany their parents. Marie evinced 
 unbounded surprise and not a little consternation, 
 when told that her uncle and aunt would be away 
 over night. 
 
 She racked her brain for an explanation of their 
 strange behavior, but could come to no satisfactory 
 conclusion, and contented herself with helping her 
 aunt to get ready for the journey. 
 
 Hester Lovelace met the mountaineer and his wife 
 at the gate; and Mrs. Lovelace greeted them cor- 
 dially not to say effusively. When husband and 
 spouse found themselves in the big mansion fur- 
 nished in such grandeur and splendor as the two 
 never had known they were somewhat abashed ; 
 but their hostess and her daughter exerted them- 
 selves to put them at their ease, and succeeded so 
 well that Isaac and Nancy soon felt perfectly at 
 home. After a time Nancy grew tired of admir- 
 ing the many things about her, of asking innu- 
 merable questions in regard to each, and of ejac- 
 ulating her wonderment at the answers she received. 
 She fidgeted in her chair, and, at last, broached the 
 object of her visit, by saying:
 
 68 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Me an' Isaac here got a letter from you, Mrs. 
 Lovelace, askin' us to come down an' see you on 
 some business ; an' as far's I'm c'ncerned, I'm ready 
 to talk it over right at once." 
 
 The mistress of the mansion smiled amiably and 
 replied : 
 
 " There's no hurry. Supper will be ready soon ; 
 after that's over we can talk at our leisure we 
 have the whole night before us." 
 
 The practical Nancy was impatient to know some- 
 thing definite of the business in hand especially 
 of the money Mrs. Lovelace had mentioned. How- 
 ever, she grimly bided her time.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 T SENT for you" Mrs. Lovelace was speaking 
 
 1 " because I wished to talk over with you, 
 something in which we're all interested ; yet I hardly 
 know how to bee 
 
 She waited for a word of encouragement; bat 
 neither Isaac nor Xancy felt called upon to speak. 
 The former sat gazing into the red embers at his 
 feet, a vacant, far-away look upon his face. One 
 hand fumbled in the bosom of his hunting shirt and 
 the other plucked nervously at his straggling beard. 
 A strange, lost feeling held possession of him. He 
 hardly knew what it meant yes, he did! He 
 wanted to smoke. He had not had recourse to his 
 one source of comfort and consolation his corn- 
 cob pipe since the middle of the afternoon. The 
 more he pondered the more importunate and irre- 
 sistible became his desire. Mrs. Lovelace noticed 
 
 - Crowing uneasiness and shrewdly guessed the 
 cause. The smell of tobacco was distasteful to her ; 
 but she did not intend to let anything stand in the 
 way of her using these people to further the end she 
 had in view, so she said : 
 
 " Light your pipe. Mr. Meeks, and smoke while 
 I talk. I was just going to say " 
 
 (69)
 
 70 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Hold on a minute ! " interrupted Nancy. 
 
 And diving- into the profound depths of the pocket 
 of her gown, she fished up a short-stemmed pipe and 
 a quantity of loose tobacco. Isaac procured like ar- 
 ticles from the cavernous interior of his hunting 
 shirt, filled the bowl of his pipe, dexterously dipped 
 a glowing coal from the ashes upon the hearth, 
 pressed it into place with the ball of his horny thumb, 
 and settled back in his chair, perfect content pictured 
 upon his bland countenance. Nancy went through 
 a series of similar maneuvers, stuck the short stem 
 into the corner of her mouth, and leaning forward, 
 with her elbows upon her knees, puffed vigorously 
 for a few seconds. Then she removed the pipe from 
 her lips, spat upon the hearth, and ejaculated : 
 
 " Now I'm all ready ; go on with what you was 
 goin' to say." 
 
 Hester, sitting back in the shadow, curled her thin 
 lips in silent contempt, and waited impatiently for 
 her mother to begin. The latter smothered a cough 
 occasioned by the pungent smoke of the partly cured 
 tobacco and resumed: 
 
 "As you've guessed, perhaps, I wish to talk of 
 my nephew and your niece." 
 
 She paused a moment, to watch the effect of her 
 words ; but, noting no change in the impassive coun- 
 tenances of her guests, she continued : " It has come 
 to my knowledge within the last few days, that 
 Paul's paying attention to the young woman who 
 lives with you ; and it pains and mortifies me to say
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 71 
 
 that he my own nephew has no honorable mo- 
 tive in so doing. Like many another young man, 
 he's thinking only of his own amusement. It affords 
 me no pleasure to say this of my nephew, whom I 
 love, but it is the solemn truth." 
 
 Again Mrs. Lovelace hesitated. She wanted to be 
 sure of her ground before venturing too far. Nancy 
 Meeks did not change her position. Isaac, on the 
 other hand, was visibly affected. He stirred un- 
 easily in his chair and nervously tapped the hearth 
 with the toe of his heavy boot. Mrs. Lovelace, 
 keenly scrutinizing the two, saw Mr. Meeks' grow- 
 ing restlessness, and, fearing he would offer opposi- 
 tion if she did not handle him very carefully, said : 
 
 " Perhaps you know more of this unfortunate af- 
 fair than I, Mr. Meeks. If you do, will you not 
 enlighten me? " 
 
 Isaac crossed one nether limb over the knee of the 
 other, and reflectively caressed his boot-leg, as he 
 replied : 
 
 " I ain't certain I know much 'bout the matter, one 
 way r' t'other; an' I don't see as it makes much 
 diff'rence, either. Course marriages 're unfortu- 
 nate, more 'r less, take 'em as they come ; but I don't 
 know as this one 'Id be any more unfortunate than 
 any other one. If Mr. Paul an' our Marie wants to 
 git married, I don't know no reason why me V 
 Nancy ought to object w e got married when we 
 got ready, an' didn't ask nobody. Our marriage 
 was a partic'lar unfortunate one "
 
 72 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 The wife of his bosom straightened her tall form 
 and, fixing upon him a look of unutterable scorn, 
 cried : 
 
 " Isaac Meeks, not another word ! You're a 'tar- 
 nal fool fer the want 'o good sense that's what 
 you are ! " 
 
 The husband promptly relapsed into silence and 
 devoted his undivided attention to his pipe, which 
 had gone out while he was talking. Mrs. Meeks re- 
 sumed her former position, knocked the ashes from 
 the heated bowl that she held in her fingers, by tap- 
 ping it upon the hearthstone, and, with her square 
 jaws firmly set, stared hard at the glowing fire, 
 as though it were the guilty offender. Hester 
 turned her face to hide the smile she could not sup- 
 press ; while her mother bit her lips in vexation. An 
 embarrassing silence ensued, to relieve which Mrs, 
 Lovelace tentatively inquired: 
 
 " Mr. Meeks, you don't believe my nephew intends 
 to marry your niece, do you ? " 
 
 Isaac nodded his head vigorously as he replied, 
 " Of course I believe he's goin' to marry 'er ; else 
 why'd he be courtin' 'er? That's what I want to 
 know. He comes to see 'er purty reg'lar, an' all on 
 his own hook nobody makes him come. I ain't 
 no doubt him an' Marie likes each other not a 
 mite o' doubt; an' if they want to git married, let 
 'em git married. What makes you think he hain't 
 no notion of marryin' Marie? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 73 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace was not displeased at the answer 
 she had received. 
 
 " Mr. Meeks," she replied, " I wish to answer 
 your question and to answer it fully. To do so 
 I must talk plainly; and I trust that in so doing I 
 shall not offend you. Paul will never marry your 
 niece, for several reasons. In the first place, he is 
 poor, and must marry for money. He can't afford 
 to do otherwise. In the second place, he doesn't 
 love Miss Fontanelle he is deceiving her. Be- 
 sides, young men who are descendants of the best 
 English families aren't in the habit of marrying so 
 far beneath them." 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace paused abruptly, for Nancy's eyes, 
 in which a dangerous fire flashed, were turned full 
 upon her. 
 
 " She's jest as good as he is an' better ! " the 
 latter hissed between her teeth. Mrs. Lovelace 
 raised her thin white hand in protestation, but the 
 angry woman went on: 
 
 " An' if you think you can set there an' belittle 
 'er, an' me not say a word, you're badly mistaken 
 that's all! I won't listen to it! I'll walk every 
 step o' the way home tonight, before I'll hear my gal 
 run down by you 'r anybody else so there ! " 
 
 The English woman was perfectly cool as she re- 
 plied : " There, there, my good woman ! I didn't 
 mean to speak disparagingly of your niece not 
 at all. You misunderstood me. I agree with you 
 that Miss Fontanelle is far better than my nephew ;
 
 74 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 for in many respects he's not what he should be. 
 And it was to warn you against him and his vicious 
 propensities, that I called you here. To make you 
 understand clearly that he will not marry your 
 niece cannot marry her, if he would I've but 
 to tell you that he's already betrothed to another, 
 whom he'll wed in the near future." 
 
 " An' he's goin' to marry your daughter ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Meeks, it matters little whom he's to wed, 
 so long as he can't wed your niece. My husband 
 and I have reared and educated Paul ; and I look 
 upon him as a son. I do not want him to bring dis- 
 grace and sorrow to me and mine; nor do I want 
 him to work ruin to you and yours. This attach- 
 ment between him and Miss Fontanelle must be 
 sundered. They must be separated, to meet no 
 more." 
 
 " I ain't goin' to take no part a-separatin' 'em," 
 said Isaac, obstinately shaking his head. 
 
 " Do shut up, Isaac ! " Mrs. Meeks interjected. 
 "You don't know nothin' 'bout this thing. Hain't 
 I told you all along that Mr. Paul never meant to 
 marry Marie ? An' now you see I was right. You 
 thought I was hard on the gal, 'cause I scolded 'er 
 an' told 'er not to make a dunce of 'erself, 'bout a 
 man that didn't keer a straw fer 'er ; but now you'll 
 shut y'r mouth, I reckon. I was doin' 'er a motherly 
 kindness all the time but I got blamed fer it, jest 
 as I do fer everything. I hope now you'll shut y'r 
 mouth an' have some sense,"
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 75 
 
 Then turning to Mrs. Lovelace, Nancy con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " What d' you mean by separatia' 'em? Do you 
 think o' sendin' y'r nephew out o' the neighbor- 
 hood?" 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace smothered her rising ire at the 
 impudent question, and quietly replied: 
 
 " Willingly would I send Paul away, if I could ; 
 but that's impossible. He's a hot-blooded young 
 man, and will go his own gait. Unless Miss Fon- 
 tanelle is removed from his sight and reach, he'll 
 bring disgrace and sorrow upon us all." 
 
 Isaac grasped the arms of his chair and planted 
 his feet squarely upon the floor but said noth- 
 ing. Nancy's face flushed, and she cried hotly: 
 
 " A purty neighbor you are, Mrs. Lovelace ! 
 Askin' us to drive our gal away from all the home 
 she's got, jest to 'commodate you an' yours. We 
 shan't do nothin' o' the kind ! " 
 
 The English woman smiled more sweetly than 
 ever, as she answered suavely : 
 
 " You persist in misconstruing my language, my 
 good woman. I've said that I'd send my nephew 
 away, if I could. That's out of the question 
 I've no influence over his actions. But for the 
 good of all, these two must be parted. I don't ask 
 that you drive your niece from home, but that you 
 leave this section, taking her with you. Wait! 
 I'm not through. If you'll leave the state at once 
 within a few days letting no one know your
 
 76 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 destination, and pledging yourselves never to re- 
 turn, I'll buy your land and pay you well for going-. 
 You have everything to gain and nothing to lose, 
 by doing what I suggest. With the money I'll 
 pay you, you can buy a larger farm and can live 
 much better than you do here. Beside, you'll be 
 saving yourselves no end of trouble and will be 
 doing your niece a kindness though she may not 
 see it in that light. What have you to say to my 
 proposition?" 
 
 Isaac looked anxiously at his wife. He knew 
 from bitter experience that she would have her 
 way in this case, as in all others. The fondest 
 desire of his honest heart was to live in peace with 
 all mankind. His cabin on the mountain side had 
 been his peaceful home for years and to the sim- 
 ple-minded man there was no spot on earth like it. 
 
 But Nancy ! She was energetic and ambitious ; 
 for years she had been teasing him to seek another 
 location. He sighed deeply at the thought, as he 
 watched his wife's face light up with eager excite- 
 ment. The sigh attracted Nancy's attention, and 
 she turned upon him angrily: 
 
 " Isaac Meeks, ain't you 'shamed o' y'rself ? Jest 
 see the man settin' there a-sighin' 's if he was at 
 his own funer'l ; an' all 'cause he's 'fraid he'll have 
 to leave that blessed purty cabin up there in the 
 woods ! I've been teasin', an' coaxin', an' torment- 
 in', all these years, to git out o' here, an' try an' 
 make a decent livin'; an' now when the chance
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 77 
 
 comes 'round an' knocks at our door, he's scared 
 to death fer fear he'll have to git up an' dust fer 
 a better place. Isaac you lazy, good-fer-noth- 
 in'! I don't want to hear a word out o' you 
 not a word ! " 
 
 Then, wheeling her chair toward Mrs. Love- 
 lace and bending forward until she peered into the 
 latter's face, Mrs. Meeks eagerly inquired: 
 
 " Was you in earnest when you said you'd buy 
 us out an' pay us fer leavin' the state an' never 
 comin' back ? " 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace could scarcely conceal her exul- 
 tation. She had touched the right spring Nan- 
 cy's cupidity while groping blindly in the dark; 
 and the door of her desires stood open before her. 
 Her temples beat and her head swam from the 
 sense of relief that came over her. 
 
 " Yes," she said with an effort. " I'll buy your 
 land at a fair price and pay you for leaving the 
 state and taking your niece with you. But you 
 must sign a written agreement that you'll never re- 
 turn to this locality ; that you'll let no one know 
 your destination; that you'll do all in your power 
 to prevent the girl from coming back; and that 
 you'll not permit her to communicate with my 
 nephew, in any way." 
 
 " How much'll you give us fer the land ? " 
 
 Mrs. Lovelace named a fair price. 
 
 " Tain't enough ! " Isaac broke in. " An' I 
 don't want to sell, nohow "
 
 78 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Shut y'r mouth, Isaac Meeks ! " Nancy thun- 
 dered. " I'm a-makin' this bargain. You've had 
 the say all along ; an' we've never prospered. Now 
 I'm a-goin' to take things in hand. An' how 
 much'll you give us fer leavin' the state an' takin' 
 our gal with us, Mrs. Lovelace ? " 
 
 " Fifty pounds in English gold," the latter an- 
 swered, after a moment's thought. 
 
 " Fifty pounds in gold ? Mrs. Lovelace, me an' 
 Isaac accepts y'r offer don't we, Isaac ? " 
 
 " I s'pose we do, if you say so ! " he answered in 
 a low tone. 
 
 " When can we 'ave the papers drawed up ? " 
 Nancy continued, again addressing Mrs. Love- 
 lace. 
 
 " Tomorrow." 
 
 " When'll this money be paid over to me? " 
 
 " The money for the land will be given to you 
 when the deed's drawn and signed." 
 
 "An' the other?" 
 
 " I'll give you that when you drive by my house, 
 on your way out of the state." 
 
 " Then it's a bargain ; an' I'll jest smoke another 
 pipe on it, 'fore I go to bed."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AT nine o'clock the next morning 1 , the papers 
 were drawn, signed and witnessed ; and the 
 agreement was closed. Isaac and Nancy the for- 
 mer depressed, the latter elated wended their 
 way homeward, arriving a little after noon. Nancy 
 wasted no time in tersely informing her niece of 
 the proposed change of residence. 
 
 " What do you mean, Aunt Nancy ? " Marie cried 
 in great surprise. 
 
 " Mean jest what I say. We're goin' to move 
 to another place, where we can do better'n we've 
 ever done here." 
 
 "Where are you going?" 
 
 " Don't say 'you,' say 'we,' " snapped Nancy ; "fer 
 we're all a-goin'. I don't know jest where yit, but 
 over into Pennsylvany, I s'pect." 
 
 " How soon 're you going to start, Aunt ? " 
 
 " Ther' you go ag'in ! " pettishly whined Mrs. 
 Meeks. " A body 'Id think from y'r talk you had 
 a fortune o' y'r own, and didn't 'ave to live with 
 me an' y'r uncle. I reckon you'll go along with 
 us, Miss Independence?" 
 
 Marie dropped her eyes, as she stammered : " I 
 don't know. I " 
 
 (79)
 
 8o IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 11 Well, of all things ! " interrupted Nancy, with 
 a snort of anger. " Jest listen at the silly gal ! 
 If you don't go with us, what in the world will 
 you do? Where'll you stay? You can't live here 
 all by y'rself an' the cabin's sold, anyhow. 
 'Course you'll go along with us you can't do 
 nothin' else." 
 
 " Perhaps I could obtain employment with some 
 family in the valley," Marie suggested. 
 
 " P'rhaps you could, an' p'rhaps you couldn't ! " 
 sneered her aunt. " But you ain't a-going' to so 
 there ! I know what you want. You want to stay 
 'round here, thinkin' that Paul Graydon 11 come 
 back and marry you. He'll never do nothin' o' 
 the kind. He's engaged to a rich woman a 
 woman of his own station in life. I've found out 
 somethin' 'bout that young man. Jest as I've alluz 
 told you, he don't care nothin' fer you. There! 
 Cry like a baby ! " Marie was not crying, but 
 unshed tears were standing in her eyes. 
 
 " But when are are we going? " faltered the 
 niece. 
 
 " Jest as soon as we can git ready in a week 
 'r such a matter at the most." 
 
 " Why are you in such haste, Aunt Nancy ? " 
 
 Mrs. Meeks was considerably mollified as she 
 replied : 
 
 " Got to move right away, child, 'fore the roads 
 breaks up. Winter'll soon be here." 
 
 " Couldn't you wait a few weeks ? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 81 
 
 " By no means, gal ! What ails you ? " 
 
 Marie threw her plump arms around her aunt, 
 and, looking- up into the rugged face that bent 
 above her, pleaded : " Oh, let me stay here, Aunt 
 Nancy anywhere ! Please please do not take 
 me away for a few weeks! Paul has promised 
 to come back to me in that length of time." 
 
 Mrs. Meeks' face softened perceptibly, as she 
 gazed upon the pleading girl ; but her voice was 
 firm. 
 
 " It won't do ! I pity you, Marie, but I can't 
 listen to no talk like that. Did he say he'd come 
 back to you in two 'r three weeks ? " 
 
 Marie hesitated. " No, not exactly that ; but 
 he promised to come for me as soon as he could 
 make a home for us. Oh, he'll come, aunt, I know 
 he will ! Do let me stay here I can find em- 
 ployment! And what '11 he think, if I run away 
 and leave him ! " 
 
 Pleadings and arguments proving unavailing, the 
 subject was dropped; and the various members of 
 the family began to prepare for their departure. 
 Isaac sighed lugubriously as he shuffled about his 
 work, and surreptitiously wiped away the truant 
 tears that escaped from the inner corners of his 
 watery eyes and dangled from the end of his prom- 
 inent nose. Nancy was in the best of spirits ; and 
 the two children were jubilant over the prospect 
 of a change of scene. Poor Marie was heart- 
 broken over the thought of leaving the neighbor- 
 6
 
 82 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 hood, without Paul's knowledge. What would he 
 think when he returned and found her gone ? What 
 should she do? She turned the matter over and 
 over in her mind, as she assisted her aunt in pack- 
 ing the few household effects. Should she run 
 away and hide at some farmer's house in the val- 
 ley, until her relatives had left the vicinity? It 
 would not do; she knew that she should be cap- 
 tured and brought back in disgrace. At last an 
 idea came that caused her to smile through her 
 tears. She would write a letter for Paul and leave 
 it with his relatives, asking them to send it to him 
 when they learned his address. Then, when she 
 reached her destination, she would write him an- 
 other apprising him of her whereabouts. This one, 
 also, she would send to his aunt, to be given him 
 upon his return. Of course Aunt Nancy would 
 object if she knew, but she need not know. With 
 this resolve, she felt better and performed her du- 
 ties quite cheerfully. To what bitter disappoint- 
 ment she was doomed! 
 
 Mrs. Meeks put forth every effort to hasten the 
 preparations for their journey, and to such good 
 purpose that on the third day after the signing of 
 the articles of agreement, the entire outfit was 
 ready to start. 
 
 When the Lovelace homestead was reached, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Meeks entered the house to receive the 
 money. Hester strolled out to the wagon and gra-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 83 
 
 ciously accosted Marie, who was holding the lines 
 and looking after the restless children. 
 
 " I don't know where we shall make our home," 
 said the latter in reply to Hester's question. " Miss 
 Lovelace, will you do me a great favor ? " 
 
 " If it be within my power yes." 
 
 " Will you send this letter to your cousin, Paul 
 Graydon, when you learn his address ? " 
 
 Hester took the letter from Marie's hand and 
 murmured an inaudible reply. Her face was scar- 
 let as she bade the other a hasty farewell and turned 
 toward the house. Isaac and Nancy came out and 
 climbed into their places ; the wagon moved for- 
 ward ; and the occupants soon lost sight of the gray 
 
 mansion by the roadside. 
 
 * ******** 
 
 Three weeks after the emigration of the Meeks 
 family, Paul and Gumbo returned from Richmond. 
 The young man was dust-covered, travel-stained 
 and weary. He kissed Hester's upturned face, as 
 she greeted him ; and reported the sale of the crop 
 at a good price, to his aunt. 
 
 " Nothing unusual has occurred in the neighbor- 
 hood ? " Paul asked carelessly. 
 
 " I'm told your hunter friend, Isaac Meeks, has 
 left for parts unknown," said Mrs. Lovelace. 
 
 Paul started and stared hard at his relative, as he 
 asked : " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " What I say," she answered, quietly ; " He has 
 left this part of the country."
 
 84 /-V THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Almost three weeks ago, I think." 
 
 " Did did he take his family with him? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And Marie?" 
 
 "Yes, all of them went. They passed here on 
 their journey." 
 
 His lips were white and his face was twitching 
 as he inquired : " Where have they gone? " 
 
 " I don't know and I don't care," came the cold 
 and pitiless reply. " They were poor and shiftless, 
 and no credit to the community. For your sake, 
 Paul, I'm glad that they are gone." 
 
 " Aunt Caroline, let us say no more on the sub- 
 ject," said Paul, a hopeless, haggard look over- 
 spreading his features. " We can't agree, and it's 
 better that we never mention it again. I'm worn 
 out Fm going to my room to rest." 
 
 " Don't you \vant your supper aren't you hun- 
 gry ? " Hester queried anxiously. 
 
 " I'm too tired to eat," he replied. 
 
 He went straight to bed ; but, tired as he was, he 
 could not sleep. He tossed about in feverish unrest, 
 and asked himself a thousand questions to not one of 
 which he could give a satisfactory answer. Marie 
 had been taken away from him ! He buried his face 
 in the pillows and groaned in agony of spirit. Why 
 had the Meeks family left their old home so sudden- 
 ly? Why had they gone at all? Where had they 
 gone? And Isaac had pretended to be his friend!
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 85 
 
 What could it all mean ? Had they forced Marie to 
 accompany them, or had she gone of her own free 
 will? 
 
 Like an endless chain, each link of which was red 
 with fire, these questions dragged through his mind, 
 until he felt that he could bear the torture no longer. 
 
 He descended to the sitting room next morning, 
 looking haggard and exhausted. Hester noted his 
 changed appearance ; and her eyes filled with tears. 
 She loved him dearly in her fierce, passionate way ; 
 and she almost wished she had not been instrumental 
 in bringing upon him such great sorrow. He said 
 but little, ate a light breakfast, and mounting his 
 horse rode away in the direction of the Meeks cabin. 
 
 We shall not follow him on his visit to the desert- 
 ed nest. It is sufficient to say that he returned at 
 nightfall, having ascertained nothing of the destina- 
 tion of Marie and her relatives or of the cause of 
 their sudden departure. The next morning he set 
 out upon the trail of the emigrants. For the first 
 twenty or thirty miles, he had no trouble in following 
 them, by making inquiries of residents along the 
 way. Then his task became more difficult. The in- 
 formation he received grew vague and uncertain; 
 and, at last, he could glean no word of the fugitives. 
 He gave up in despair and retraced his way home- 
 ward, almost wild with grief and disappointment. 
 
 The autumn passed, and winter came. Paul Gray- 
 don scarcely noted the change. He grew thin and 
 nervous, and a fixed melancholy took possession of
 
 86 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 him. Hester was kind and attentive, but not obtru- 
 sively so ; and she and Paul again became close com- 
 panions. At this, Aunt Caroline nodded knowingly 
 and smiled complacently to herself. Once only was 
 Marie's name mentioned. 
 
 " She's as one dead let's speak kindly of the 
 dead," Paul answered bitterly. 
 
 Early spring arrived ; but Paul had made no pro- 
 posal to Hester. One day Aunt Caroline said to 
 him: 
 
 " When are you and Hester to be married ? " 
 
 " Aunt Caroline, I can't marry Hester. I have a 
 firm conviction that Marie wasn't false that she 
 was compelled to leave without communicating with 
 me. I can't marry my cousin and I'm going away 
 at once." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " To the new settlement the New Englanders have 
 founded in the Northwest Territory." 
 
 " You said once you had no desire to get farther 
 away from the center of civilization." 
 
 " I've changed my mind. No place can be too 
 wild to suit my present mood." 
 
 He gave Gumbo his freedom, packed his few 
 earthly possessions, bade his relatives a tearful fare- 
 well, mounted his horse, and set his face toward the 
 wilderness. As he rode from the door, Hester, pale 
 as marble, was in the big sitting room, kneeling by 
 her mother's side and chafing the invalid's thin 
 hands ; for Mrs. Lovelace had fainted.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 87 
 
 When two miles from the mansion, Paul hesitated, 
 reined in his horse and looked back. He saw a 
 man dogging his horse's footprints; and he waited 
 for the fellow to come up. It was Gumbo. 
 
 " Where are you going? " Paul inquired. 
 
 " Wid you, Marse Paul," replied the negro, look- 
 ing beseechingly at his master. 
 
 " You cannot, you must not ! " Paul cried, sternly. 
 
 " Go back to Aunt Caroline go, I command 
 you ! " 
 
 Gumbo made no move to obey the mandate. 
 
 " Fs gwine wid you, Marse Paul I ain't 
 a-gwine back." 
 
 " Do you refuse to obey me? " Paul shouted. 
 
 " Yes, I does in dat." 
 
 " Then I'll compel you to go." 
 
 " You fo'gets, Marse Paul, dat Fs a free man an' 
 can go whar I pleases." 
 
 "True!" And the young man burst into a 
 laugh. " Well, what do you mean to do ? " 
 
 " Go wid you." 
 
 "Afoot?" 
 
 " Yes, Marse Paul." 
 
 " Very well have your will. As long as I've a 
 crust you shall share it." 
 
 Paul was not displeased. As he resumed his jour- 
 ney, Gumbo faithful fellow that he was 
 trudged sturdily at the horse's heels.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AT the close of a rainy April day, in the year 
 seventeen hundred and ninety, two men stood 
 upon the bank of a swollen stream that emptied its 
 turbulent flood into the Ohio river, a few miles 
 above the newly-founded settlement of Marietta. 
 The younger of the two held by the rein a jaded and 
 mud-bespattered black horse, and gazed in perplex- 
 ity upon the angry, tumbling waters that interposed 
 a liquid barrier between himself and companion and 
 the settlement he desired to reach ere nightfall. The 
 garments of the two were rain-drenched and muddy, 
 and the unfortunate travelers presented a pitiable 
 spectacle, as they stood shivering in the fast-gather- 
 ing twilight. The rain had ceased to fall, the skies 
 had partly cleared, and the wind that swept up the 
 valley was biting and chill. 
 
 " What do you say, Gumbo, dare we attempt to 
 ford it?" 
 
 " I doesn't know, Marse Paul I doesn't know," 
 replied the negro, reflectively. " It looks mighty 
 juberous to me, it does." 
 
 " Night's coming on, and we must cross this 
 stream at some point," said Paul. " To seek a ford 
 farther up its course involves toil that I don't feel 
 (88)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 89 
 
 able to undertake. Besides, we run the risk of losing 
 ourselves in the unbroken forest. The settlement 
 cannot be many miles away ; and we must reach it to- 
 night. We've had no food since morning, and we're 
 weak and hungry. To camp out another night 
 means to go without anything to eat for another 
 twelve hours at least. That will not do. Let us 
 mount the horse and make the attempt to ford." 
 
 " Does you apprehen' dat Prince can carry us bofe 
 across dar, Marse Paul ? " 
 
 " I don't know we must make the trial." 
 Paul seated himself firmly in the saddle, and Gum- 
 bo sprang up behind. The former gathered up the 
 reins and urged the black steed into the raging cur- 
 rent. For the first few yards, the ford was shallow. 
 As they proceeded, the water rose higher and higher 
 on the horse's sides and the current grew swifter, 
 until the noble animal could hardly keep his footing. 
 Paul turned the beast's head a little up stream, and 
 encouraged him by word and caress. The young 
 man's handsome face was white, and his square jaws 
 were hard set ; while the negro's features were ash- 
 en. Both realized the danger that threatened them. 
 The din of the surging waters rang in their ears, and 
 the shifting panorama of yellow made their brains 
 reel. Another step and Prince was beyond his 
 depth ! With a cry that was almost human, he sank 
 into the boiling depths and was swept swiftly down 
 the stream with his heavy burden. Paul leaned well 
 forward, directing Gumbo to do the same, and at-
 
 90 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 tempted to head the animal for the opposite shore. 
 It was all in vain ! Prince's load was too heavy, and 
 his strokes grew feebler and he sank lower and low- 
 er. Then it was that Gumbo showed he had in him 
 that which is worthy of everlasting life. 
 
 " Goodby, Marse Paul ! " he shouted in the latter's 
 ear. Loosing his hold, he slid from the horse's back 
 and disappeared down the stream. 
 
 Freed from a part of his burden, Prince with great 
 difficulty made his way to the shore from which he 
 had started, landing a hundred yards below the place 
 where he had entered the creek. He scrambled up 
 the .steep and slippery bank, and stood snorting and 
 trembling from fear and exertion. His master slid 
 to the ground and, throwing himself upon his face, 
 moaned and shivered. 
 
 Paul Graydon was faint and exhausted. For sev- 
 eral minutes, he hardly knew what had occurred or 
 where he was. Then a full realization of it all swept 
 through his mind, like a whirlwind of flame. He 
 staggered to his feet crying " Gumbo ! Gumbo ! " 
 But the mocking roar of rushing waters was the 
 only reply. With cold and trembling fingers, he 
 clutched Prince's mane and drew himself into the 
 saddle. He did not stop to reason upon what he pur- 
 posed to do. Gumbo was gone, and he must find 
 him. He turned the horse's head toward the stream 
 and again essayed to enter the treacherous current. 
 For the first time in Paul's experience, Prince re- 
 fused to do his bidding. The master dashed his
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 91 
 
 spurred heel into the dumb creature's flank and fran- 
 tically shook the rein, but Prince did not budge from 
 his tracks. 
 
 " Does the white man wish to join his fathers in 
 the spirit-land? " 
 
 Paul dropped the rein and glanced hurriedly 
 around. The voice was still ringing in his ears 
 but whence did it come? Was it the warning of 
 Omnipotence, or a creation of his own excited im- 
 agination. The shades of evening were gathering. 
 The young man peered into their depths of gloom, 
 but saw no one. A superstitious dread stole over 
 him, and he shuddered. 
 
 " Bah ! " he muttered, as he shook himself and 
 again took up the reins, " I'm as nervous as a flighty 
 old woman." 
 
 Once more he urged the horse forward. 
 
 " Does the paleface seek death? " 
 
 Paul almost leaped from the saddle, for the voice 
 was at his elbow. He stared into the face that was 
 upturned to his own, and asked sharply : 
 
 " Who and what are you ? " 
 
 " Silverheels, the Shawnee," came the reply in 
 deep, gutteral tones that were not unmusical. 
 
 "An Indian?" 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " Where did you come from ? " Paul inquired. 
 
 The Indian stepped back a pace and, raising a 
 sinewy arm, pointed into the depths of the wood,
 
 92 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 saying- : " The forest is my home the earth is 
 my bed." 
 
 " Can you guide me to point where I can cross this 
 stream in safety ? " Graydon asked. 
 
 Silverheels folded his arms about the barrel of the 
 long rifle that he carried, and grunted an affirmative. 
 
 " Do so at once, and I'll pay you for it," Paul said 
 eagerly. 
 
 The Indian turned and strode away up the stream. 
 Paul dismounted and followed, leading the horse 
 by the bridle. After a few minutes' rapid walking, 
 Silverheels paused and waited for the Englishman to 
 come up. The latter was panting from weakness and 
 the exertion of dragging the horse through thickets 
 and over fallen logs. As he reached Silverheels' 
 side the latter uttered the word " here," and pointed 
 to the stream that boomed at their feet. 
 
 " Is this the place ? " Paul asked quickly. 
 
 "Ugh! Wide not deep." 
 
 By this time, it was so dark Graydon could not see 
 the opposite shore. He did not hesitate, however, 
 but sprang upon his horse's back and spurred into 
 the water. After a few seconds of floundering and 
 splashing, he reached the farther bank and rode 
 away in the direction cf the highway. Suddenly it 
 dawned upon him that he had neglected to reward 
 the Indian for his kindness. He reined in his steed 
 and looked back. What was his unbounded surprise 
 to find the subject of his thoughts close at his 
 heels !
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 93 
 
 " Are you man or devil ? " he asked sharply, half 
 angrily. 
 
 The moon was just rising and, in its faint light, 
 Paul could distinguish the Indian's straight and 
 muscular form, from the background of shadowy 
 trees-trunks beyond. He saw him fold his arms up- 
 on his breast and heard him say slowly and impres- 
 sively : 
 
 "I am a Shawnee." 
 
 " How did you get across the stream ? " was Paul's 
 next question. 
 
 " A hunter does not stop for hill or stream." 
 
 " Here's money for the service you have rendered 
 me." 
 
 Silverheels shook his head. 
 
 "You will not accept it?" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Why do you follow me, then? " 
 
 " Does not the white man wish to find his black 
 friend?" 
 
 " Yes yes ! " Graydon cried eagerly. " Do you 
 know anything of him ? " 
 
 " He lies among the willows at the mouth of the 
 creek." 
 
 "Dead!" 
 
 " Xo ; he swam as the muskrat swims." 
 
 " He is alive, then ! Thank God ! Come quickly 
 and show me where he is." 
 
 Again they proceeded, Silverheels leading the 
 wav. Thev crossed the trail that led toward the set-
 
 94 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 tlement, and continued along the bank of the creek. 
 Suddenly the Indian halted, and, pointing to a clump 
 of willows, muttered sententiously : 
 
 " He is there." 
 
 Paul heard a strange moaning sound in the direc- 
 tion indicated. He leaped to the ground and ran for- 
 ward, shouting his black companion's name. As he 
 reached the clump of willows, the moaning ceased 
 and a well-known voice cried lustily : 
 
 " Fo' de Lo'd ! Marse Paul, is dat you ? " 
 
 " Yes, it's I, Gumbo. Are you hurt ? " 
 
 " No, Marse Paul ; but I's skeered mos' to deaf." 
 
 " Why are you lying there ? Get up." And Paul 
 stooped over the negro and assisted him to his feet. 
 The latter stretched and rubbed his stiffened limbs, 
 grinning all the while like an ebony satyr. Paul 
 was overjoyed to find the faithful fellow alive and 
 well. 
 
 " How did you get out, Gumbo ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Well, I swummed to de sho' dat is, after I'd 
 drunk 'bout a bar'l ob water, an' been down to de 
 bottom ob de branch a few times. You see, Marse 
 Paul, de water ain't so swift an' rampagerous at 
 dis p'int, an' I swummed out widout a great deal ob 
 animosity. W'en I got to de sho', I grabbed a limb 
 an' hung on fo 'deah life. Den I had de breaf skeer- 
 ed right outen me I did ! " 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " By de debil ! " 
 
 'By the devil?"
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 95 
 
 " Yes, Marse Paul, de debil de debil, fo' 
 shuah!" 
 
 " I don't understand you. Explain." 
 
 "I was hangin' onto de limb de water jes, 
 swishing' me dis way an' dat w'en I heerd some- 
 fin' come discriminatin' froo de bushes, like de debil. 
 An' it was de debil ! He took me by de collah an' 
 yanked me outen de water, jes' zif I didn't weigh no 
 mo' dan a broom-straw. Den he grunted, ' Ugh !' 
 jes like dat ; an' says, ' black dog ! ' Den he lef ' me ; 
 an' I jes hid my face an' laid dar, 'spectin' to be 
 killed eb'ry minute." 
 
 Paul readily guessed the cause of the negro's ter- 
 ror; and asked: 
 
 " How do you know it was the devil, Gumbo? " 
 
 The latter had recovered his courage, somewhat, 
 and replied earnestly: 
 
 " Didn't I see an' hear him, Marse Paul ? I saw 
 de h'ar all ober him, an' heerd de jingle ob bells on 
 his hoofs. Den I saw his horns, too. I knows it 
 was ol' Beezlybub ! " 
 
 Gray don burst into a hearty laugh. He recog- 
 nized in Gumbo's description a distorted picture of 
 Silverheels. The Indian's hunting shirt and leg- 
 gings of undressed deerskin accounted for the 
 "ha'r" on his satanic majesty; the eagle feathers 
 braided in his long black hair constituted his 
 " horns " ; and the perforated silver coins with which 
 his moccasins were ornamented, and from which he
 
 96 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 took his sobriquet, " Silverheels," were the " bells " 
 that jingled on his " hoofs." 
 
 " Would you know him, if you again saw him? " 
 Paul roguishly asked. 
 
 The negro glanced around apprehensively, and 
 answered with great unction : 
 
 " Yes, but I doesn't keer to see him no mo' I 
 doesn't ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to find you alive. Come, let's 
 make a final effort to reach the settlement tonight ; 
 we're in need of food and shelter." 
 
 They left the clump of willows and proceeded 
 toward the spot where Paul had left the horse. Just 
 as they reached it and found Prince quietly nibbling 
 at the short grass upon the creek bank, the moon 
 peeped from a rift in the clouds and lighted up 
 the scene. Gumbo caught sight of Silverheels. 
 Dropping upon his knees and clasping Paul's leg 
 with both arms, the terrified darky cried : 
 
 " Sabe me ! Sabe me, Marse Paul ! Dar's dat 
 Beezlybub debil ag'in ! " 
 
 Paul was vexed at Gumbo's manifestation of ab- 
 ject terror, and said, angrily : " Loose my legs and 
 get up ! Do you hear ? Get up it is only an In- 
 dian." 
 
 "An Injin debil! Oh, Marse Paul, dat's worse 
 an' mo' ob it ! " 
 
 Paul dragged the trembling wretch to his feet and 
 ordered him to mount the horse. With many side 
 glances and starts of fear, the black obeyed.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 97 
 
 " Big fool ! Black dog ! " Silverheels grunted 
 contemptuously. 
 
 As they were ready to move off Paul asked Silver- 
 heels how far it was to the Marietta settlement. 
 
 " Does the white man mean the place where the 
 paleface lodges stand upon the bank of the Moose- 
 eye, as thick as wild flowers upon a sunny hillside ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " When the moon is there," And the Indian in- 
 dicated a point in the sky with the muzzle of his gun 
 " you will be at the village of the white men." 
 
 " Will you go with us ? " 
 
 The Indian nodded, and wheeling about led the 
 way. His strides were long and rapid, and Paul 
 had great difficulty in keeping pace with him. See- 
 ing this, the savage hunter remarked: 
 
 " Let the white man ride, and the black dog walk." 
 
 " Why do you call my friend ' the black dog ' ? " 
 Graydon asked, amused at the Indian's evident dis- 
 like for Gumbo. 
 
 " You own him he is your slave, Ugh ! He is 
 a black dog." 
 
 " You're mistaken, he is not my slave. He's a free 
 man as free to come and go as you or I." 
 
 " It is strange a black man, but not a black 
 dog," muttered Silverheels. " Are not all black men 
 black dogs?" 
 
 " Most of them are," Paul admitted. 
 
 Silverheels had shown a knowledge of slavery that
 
 98 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 Graydon was surprised to find him possessing; so 
 he inquired : 
 
 " Have you seen many black slaves black dogs, 
 as you call them?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Many eagle flights beyond the great river." 
 And he pointed to the south. 
 
 " When were you there ? " 
 
 " As a child., I lived in the warm land where the 
 flowers bloom all the year." 
 
 " Your people came from the South? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " 
 
 " You speak good English. You're not a full- 
 blooded Indian ? " 
 
 " I am a Shawnee." 
 
 "Your mother?" 
 
 " Was a Shawnee." 
 
 "Your father?" 
 
 " Was an English officer! " 
 
 Paul had heard of such cases, but had never met 
 with one before. Silverheels was a half-breed, then, 
 one of the mongrel brood noted for cruelty and 
 treachery. 
 
 " Have you always lived the life of a wild hunt- 
 er?" Graydon asked, a shade of suspicion in his 
 tone. 
 
 ' The white man's tongue moulds many questions ; 
 and they fly as swiftly and surely as the leaden balls
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 99 
 
 from a rifle. Would he wound the heart of one who 
 has befriended him?" 
 
 Paul felt the rebuke and felt also that it was 
 merited. A few hours before, he would have 
 laughed at the bare idea of craving the pardon of 
 an Indian; but now it was different. The manly, 
 dignified answer of the red hunter impressed the 
 fair-minded young man, as nothing else could have 
 done. He realized that Silverheels was far more 
 than an ignorant savage. To Paul's humble apolo- 
 gies, the Indian gave monosyllabic answers, and had 
 litttle more to say during the rest of their journey. 
 Gumbo was bringing up the rear. Suddenly he cried 
 out: 
 
 " Marse Paul, I sees a light twinklin' on ahead dar 
 a little ways." 
 
 " It's the village of the white men," Silverheels 
 said, quietly ; " I leave you now." 
 
 Paul turned to speak to him, but the Indian had 
 vanished.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE two travelers moved forward in the direction 
 of the twinkling light, Paul leading the way. 
 A few minutes brought them to a point where they 
 could dimly see the Muskingum emptying its waters 
 into the broad bosom of the Ohio. On the western 
 point of land, formed by the junction of the two riv- 
 ers, lay Fort Harmer, its lights darting scattering 
 arrows into the gloom that overhung the two 
 streams. On the eastern point lay the settlement, 
 the cabins that composed it scattered in an irregular 
 manner among those trees that had not yet felt the 
 keen edge of the woodman's axe. The two travelers 
 paused as the voice of the sentry at the fort, calling 
 out the hour and announcing that all was well, was 
 borne to their ears. Again they moved forward. A 
 short distance further on, was the rude habitation 
 whose light Gumbo had first seen. Just as they came 
 opposite this cabin, its puncheon door swung open, 
 and a tall, rawboned man emerged from the lighted 
 interior, the flicker of the firelight following him. 
 Paul started, and with difficulty repressed an ex- 
 clamation. The man shaded his eyes a moment, with 
 his hand, and peered into the wall of darkness. Then 
 he shambled to the woodpile a few steps from the 
 doo)
 
 IN THE DA YS OF ST. CLA1R 101 
 
 door, and, picking up a large stick, turned toward 
 the house. He had reached the door and placed one 
 foot upon the log step, when Paul cried : 
 
 " Hello ! " 
 
 " Hullo y'rself ! " was the ungracious rejoinder. 
 
 " Can we obtain a night's lodging? " Paul queried. 
 
 " I don't know who are you ? " 
 
 " None should know me better than Isaac 
 Meeks ! " 
 
 The stick of wood dropped, and Isaac Meeks 
 leaped forward into the darkness, shouting: 
 
 " Fer God's sake ! Is it you, Mr. Paul, 'r y'r 
 ghost? " 
 
 " It's I, Paul Graydon, alive and in the flesh. Will 
 you take us in for the night, Isaac?" 
 
 "Of course I will! Who's with you?" 
 
 " Gumbo and Prince." 
 
 By this time, Meeks had found his way to Paul's 
 side. He caught the young man's hand and wrung 
 it heartily. Both were trembling with excitement. 
 Gumbo had dismounted and now stood holding the 
 horse, and chuckling and grinning. Isaac shook 
 hands with the darky, also, then he asked : 
 
 " Where in the world did you come from, Mr. 
 Paul ? " 
 
 " From Virginia," Graydon replied, a little coldly. 
 
 " Did you an' Gumbo come through all the way, 
 by y'rselves ? " 
 
 " Yes ; where's your family, Isaac? "
 
 102 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " In the house. Annie's sick with a bad cold ; 
 that's what kcp' us up so late." 
 
 "And and Miss Miss Fontanelle?" 
 
 " D' you mean Marie?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh ! she's in the cabin along with the others. 
 What're you Miss Fontanellein' 'bout, anyhow ! " 
 
 Paul was not certain of his ground, and kept si- 
 lent. If Marie had left him voluntarily, leaving no 
 word behind her, she was Miss Fontanelle to him 
 now. He would wait and see. 
 
 " How'd you know we was out here, Mr. Paul? " 
 Meeks inquired. 
 
 " I didn't know it I knew nothing of your 
 whereabouts." 
 
 " You jest dropped in here by accident? " 
 
 " I set out to come to the new settlement, but I 
 had no idea you and your your family were here." 
 
 " Well, come into the house ; we can talk after 
 a bit after you've had some supper. I s'pose you 
 hain't had y'r supper? " 
 
 " Neither supper nor dinner." 
 
 " Goodness gracious, you must be 'most starved ! " 
 And Isaac feelingly laid his hands over his own or- 
 gans of digestion. " Come on in. Gumbo, tie the 
 horse to this limb. We'll find a place f'r him after 
 while. Our cow died comin' over the mountains, an' 
 we've sold our horses so we hain't got no stable. 
 You won't find very good 'commodations ; but we'll 
 do the best we can fer you. The folks'll be mighty
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 103 
 
 glad to see you an' Gumbo, Mr. Paul. We've had 
 a rough time of it sence we left ol' Virginny', an' 
 some of us 're purty homesick. Come right on in." 
 
 The three had reached the door of the cabin. 
 Isaac gave a vigorous jerk at the latchstring; and 
 the door swung open, creaking on its wooden 
 hinges. He pushed the other two ahead of him, and 
 entered the house, closing the door with a bang. The 
 ruddy firelight flashed upon the faces of the new- 
 comers and revealed to them the interior of the 
 cabin. It consisted of one large room. A puncheon 
 floor, covered here and there with the skins of wild 
 animals, extended from the doorway to within a 
 few feet of the wide, deep fireplace. The floor of the 
 space thus left was of hard packed earth. Around 
 the walls, were rows of wooden pegs upon which 
 hung clothing and household utensils ; and attached 
 to the low smoke-stained rafters, by means of 
 thongs, were large chunks of dried meat, bundles 
 of peltries, and bunches of wild herbs and roots. A 
 rude bedstead occupied one corner of the room, and 
 under it nestled a clumsy trundle-bed. A few stools 
 were scattered in front of the fire, and a rough table 
 stood against the wall. Over the door was the hunt- 
 er's rifle, bullet-pouch and powder-horn, and piled 
 in one corner was a quantity of yellow corn. 
 
 Meeks' cabin was a type of the settlement. Its 
 walls were of unhewn logs ; the fireplace was of un- 
 dressed stone ; and the chimney, of sticks and dried 
 clay. The roof was of clapboards held in place by
 
 104 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 heavy poles, the ends of which were secured by 
 wooden pins driven into the log walls. A window, 
 made by cutting out a section of one of the logs in 
 the side of the cabin, was furnished with a heavy 
 shutter. The puncheon door was fastened by a latch 
 and string; and additional security was obtained by 
 the use of two strong hickory bars that extended 
 across the inner surface of the door and rested in 
 wooden staples upon each side. 
 . When Isaac and the two travelers entered the 
 room, Nancy was kneeling in front of the fireplace, 
 making a poultice of cornmeal and dried herbs, for 
 the little sufferer upon the bed. Her back was 
 toward the door, and she did not notice the strang- 
 ers. Marie, standing by the bedside, was holding 
 the sick child's hand and coaxing her to take a 
 draught of the bitter tea Nancy had brewed. She 
 turned at the bang of the door, and stood face to 
 face with Paul Graydon ! The cup dropped from 
 her hand ; and with a cry of " My Paul ! My 
 Paul! " she flung herself into his arms, and burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Annie, the sick girl, screamed in affright ; and, 
 with raised bristles and flashing fangs, two great 
 dogs emerged from their warm corner by the chim- 
 ney, growling fiercely. Nancy took in the situation 
 at a glance, and, standing with arms akimbo and a 
 half-pleased, half defiant look upon her face, she 
 ejaculated :
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 105 
 
 " Well, of all things ! It's Mr. Paul an' Gumbo, 
 as sure's shootin' ! " 
 
 Mrs. Meeks was a general of no mean ability. 
 She handed stools to the visitors; allayed the sick 
 girl's terror ; and, after brushing up the hearth with 
 the wing of a wild turkey, resumed the preparation 
 of the poultice all the time keeping up a rattling 
 fire of questions and exclamations. Marie nestled 
 at Paul's side, her hand in his and her eyes hun- 
 grily studying every lineament of his features. 
 
 " Where'd you come from, Mr. Paul ? " Nancy 
 asked. 
 
 " From Virginia," Graydon answered, as he slip- 
 bis arm around Marie's waist. 
 
 " Lawzee ! " Mrs. Meeks exclaimed, " Who'd you 
 come through with? " 
 
 " With Gumbo and Prince." 
 
 " Jest the nigger an' y'r horse ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Wy, how in the nation did you git here ? Did 
 you come all the way by land ? " 
 
 " Yes. We had a toilsome and dangerous trip." 
 
 " Say, ol' woman ! " Isaac broke in. " You'd bet- 
 ter stop gabbin', an' git these men some supper. 
 They hain't had a mite to eat sence mornin'." 
 
 " Oh ! " And Marie caught her breath. " My 
 Paul, you must be famished." 
 
 " Hardly so bad as that," laughed the young man ; 
 " but I'm weak with hunger." 
 
 Marie and her aunt soon had a steaming meal of
 
 io6 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 hot corn-pone, fish, milk and game, on the table. 
 It was very appetizing to the travelers. When 
 they had eaten their fill and the table was cleared, 
 Paul faced Mrs. Meeks and said: 
 
 " Now, Nancy, I'm ready to talk. The reception 
 you have given us leads me to believe you bear me 
 no ill will. Am I right?" 
 
 " Y-e-s," she answered, hesitatingly, " I guess 
 you're 'bout right. I don't bear you no ill will now ; 
 but that ain't sayin' that I never did." She uttered 
 this last sentence rather defiantly. 
 
 Here Isaac interrupted by saying : " While you 
 folks's fixin' up y'r differ'nces, I'll take the horse up 
 to Colonel Sproat's stable an' feed him. He has an 
 empty stall, an' I know he'll let me put the critter in 
 there fer the night." 
 
 He left the cabin, accompanied by Gumbo and 
 Johnnie. When the door had closed behind them, 
 Nancy answered Paul's questioning look. 
 
 " Mr. Paul, I ain't a-goin' to deny nothin'. I 
 s'picioned that you wasn't runnin' after Marie, fer 
 no good. I didn't b'lieve you meant to marry 'er; 
 so I packed up an' run away while you was gone. 
 I was wrong I see it now but I didn't think so 
 then ; an' I acted 'cordin' to my lights. Isaac hadn't 
 nothin' to do with it. If we could 'ave had his way, 
 we'd still be over there in the mountains o' Virginny. 
 As fer me, I'm mighty glad we come. Course we've 
 seen hard times an' had lots o' bad luck ; but we're 
 here now, an' got a chance to git some land that'll
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 107 
 
 'mount to somethin* in time. We couldn't 'ave 
 come, though, if Mrs. Lovelace hadn't bought our 
 place " 
 
 " Mrs. Lovelace ! " cried Paul and Marie together. 
 The latter was as much surprised as her lover. It 
 was the first time she had heard the name mentioned 
 in connection with the sale. 
 
 " Yes," Mrs. Meeks answered, filling and lighting 
 her pipe, " she bought our place at a good price 
 an' " 
 
 Here the hunter's wife paused abruptly and 
 dropped her eyes confusedly. 
 
 Paul was keenly alert to everything she was say- 
 ing, and now cried sharply : 
 
 " And what, Nancy ? You said you were going 
 to tell everything." 
 
 Nancy's face was very red. Its flushed appear- 
 ance may have been due to the heat of the fire, 
 but more probably it was caused by shame and 
 confusion. Be that as it may, she straightened her 
 tall form and replied resolutely : 
 
 " I'm a-goin' to tell the truth, the whole truth, 
 an' nothin' but the truth! Mrs. Lovelace bought 
 our place, an' she paid us fer leavin' the neighbor- 
 hood an' takin' Marie with us. As I said, I was 
 'spicious of you, Mr. Paul ; an' when her an' her 
 daughter sent fer me an' Isaac to come an' see 'em, 
 we went " 
 
 "When was that?" Paul asked, quickly.
 
 io8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " The day after you left fer Richmond I b'lieve 
 that's where she said you'd gone." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Well, w'en y'r aunt said you didn't intend to 
 marry my gal that you'd marry some rich wom- 
 an that you was jest foolin' Marie I was all 
 ready to b'lieve 'er. An' w'en she wanted to buy 
 us out an' pay us fer leavin', I was glad to go. 
 She said she didn't want a member o' her family 
 to bring disgrace an' trouble 'pon us. I won't deny 
 that her offerin' me money helped me to make up my 
 mind to leave. But Isaac wan't to blame at all 
 I done it all. I see ev'rything clear now, an' I'm 
 awful sorry I done as I did; but I thought I was 
 actin' fer the best. I'm glad you know'd where to 
 find us " 
 
 " But I didn't know." 
 
 "You didn't?" 
 
 " No ; my coming here was purely accidental. I 
 thought Marie had grown tired of me " 
 
 " Paul ! " the young woman cried, reproachfully. 
 
 "I di'd, Marie! What else could I think? I 
 didn't know where you had gone, nor why you had 
 gone. You left no word for me, and " 
 
 " I left a letter for you, Paul." 
 
 "For me?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "With whom?" 
 
 " With your cousin, Hester Lovelace." 
 
 Mrs. Meeks smiled pityingly at her niece's sim-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 109 
 
 plicity, and sneered : " You little dunce ! That was 
 a smart trick givin' y'r letter to the very woman 
 that wanted to marry Mr. Paul, herself! Course he 
 never got it ! " 
 
 The older woman arose and busied herself in pre- 
 paring another poultice for the sick child moaning 
 upon the bed. 
 
 " So my poor boy never got my letter," Marie 
 whispered, caressing Paul's hand ; " it is no wonder 
 he thought me false and cruel. But, oh, my Paul, 
 how I've suffered ! " 
 
 She hid her face upon his shoulder. He com- 
 forted and soothed her, as only a lover knows how ; 
 and when she had regained her composure, asked: 
 
 " And what did you think of me, dear ? " 
 
 " Just what I've always thought, Paul ; that you 
 would receive both my letters, and would never rest 
 until you found me. But I feared that it might be 
 years before I saw your dear face again." 
 
 " You sent me a letter from here ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I never got it it isn't necessary to say why." 
 He paused sadly. " I understand all now. 
 You were true to me I should have known 
 it all the time. But I couldn't believe you false for 
 long. Something told me that you were true, and 
 that you were waiting and longing for me. I didn't 
 know where to look for you ; but I couldn't give you 
 up I couldn't rest there with Aunt Caroline and 
 my cousin. God was with me! I've no doubt He
 
 i io IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 directed my steps to this place. Hester wanted me 
 to marry her, and my aunt was anxious for our un- 
 ion. You understand now why I said I was com- 
 pelled to leave there, and seek my fortune elsewhere. 
 We've come up through great tribulation, dear one , 
 but our sky is clearing and all will be well ! " 
 
 They sat there, side by side, at peace with them- 
 selves and all the world. Mr. Meeks and his com- 
 panions returned ; and the conversation became gen- 
 eral. Isaac, in his quaint way, told of the hardships 
 of the winter journey to the new settlement. 
 
 " Had you decided to come here, when you left 
 Virginia? " 'Paul asked. 
 
 " No, we thought o' settlin' in Pennsylvany ; but 
 when we got up in there, we heard of a comp'ny o' 
 settlers makin' the'r way to this place, so we hurried 
 on an' j'ined 'em. An' here we all are." 
 
 He smiled benignly upon Paul and Marie, as he 
 finished speaking. Evidently the big-hearted hunter 
 was well pleased with the turn affairs had taken. 
 
 The fire burned low upon the hearth, and the room 
 was in semi-darkness. It was after midnight. An- 
 nie's fever had abated, and she was sleeping quietly. 
 The family prepared to retire for the night. 
 
 The women and children occupied the two beds, 
 while the three men reposed upon skins spread in 
 front of the fire. The god of slumber kissed their 
 eyelids down and they slept. 
 
 Before lying down, Isaac had thrown a fresh log 
 upon the red coals, Sometime during the small
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR in 
 
 hours of the night, the sleepers were awakened by 
 a knock at the door. Mr. Meeks sprang to his feet, 
 and demanded : " Who's there ? " 
 
 A gutteral voice replied: " If the white hunter 
 would save his lodge, he should bestir himself. The 
 red tongues of fire are licking over it and they 
 love the taste of dry wood." 
 
 " An Injin ! " cried Isaac, in tones of alarm. 
 
 " Silverheels ! " Paul whispered to himself. 
 
 Gumbo shook his woolly head and muttered : " De 
 red debil!" 
 
 The three dashed out of doors, but saw no one. 
 The stick chimney was ablaze near the top, and 
 the flames were spreading. A few minutes of de- 
 lay would have doomed the cabin. The men extin- 
 guished the fire, and returned to their places of 
 rest; but they were nervous and wakeful, and slept 
 little more that night.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THERE were many reasons why the Ohio Company 
 chose the mouth of the Muskingum, as the 
 site of their first settlement. It was known to be 
 a wooded, well-watered region, with a soil of un- 
 exampled fertility. The forests abounded with 
 game and the streams were full of fish. No Indian 
 tribe had its villages within many miles of the place ; 
 and Fort Harmer already erected at the mouth 
 of the river served as an additional protection. 
 
 The sturdy New England pioneers had laid out 
 the streets of their proposed city, divided the land 
 into eight-acre lots, felled trees and erected huts 
 for their habitation, and begun the cultivation of 
 the soil, when Governor St. Clair arrived in July. 
 
 The first year was one of prosperity, if not of 
 plenty ; and at its close there were one hundred and 
 thirty-two persons in the new settlement. 
 
 The next year brought disappointment to all, and 
 want and suffering to many. A frost in October 
 ruined all of the late corn and damaged much of 
 that planted earlier. The settlers gathered their 
 crop ; but it was unpalatable and produced sickness, 
 and the use of it was abandoned. The price of this 
 necessary cereal rose to two dollars a bushel. Those 
 (112)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 113 
 
 persons who were so fortunate as to have money, 
 bought flour and meal of passing barges, trading 
 up and down the river; but few could avail them- 
 selves of this opportunity. 
 
 In addition to the lack of corn, there was a scar- 
 city of meat. The Indians had grown jealous of 
 their white neighbors, and, in order to deprive the 
 settlers of food, had killed and scared away much 
 of the game in the surrounding forest. Salt was 
 obtained with great difficulty, by sending teams to 
 the Scioto salt-licks. It took a month or more to 
 make the journey ; and the salt was of inferior qual- 
 ity, and sold for eight dollars a bushel. 
 
 The winter of seventeen hundred and eighty-nine 
 was long and severe ; and by early spring many of 
 the people were at the point of actual starvation. 
 When summer arrived, the poorer colonists subsist- 
 ed almost wholly upon the succulent tops of certain 
 plants, which they boiled with a pinch of salt and 
 a little meat. 
 
 A brief description of this village of log huts, 
 in the heart of the American wilderness, as Paul 
 Graydon found it, may not be amiss. It lay upon 
 the eastern bank of the Muskingum, and stretched 
 its straggling length from the shore of the Ohio, 
 to the blockhouse known as Campus Martius, a mile 
 up the Muskingum. Quite a group of cabins stood 
 upon the point formed by the junction of the two riv- 
 ers, and were separated from their straggling neigh- 
 bors farther up the Muskingum, by a small stream 
 8
 
 ii 4 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 known as Tyber Creek. A few of the houses were 
 two stories in height, of hewn timbers, and had 
 chimneys of brick. However, these were the rare ex- 
 ception. A rude, wooden bridge spanned Tyber 
 Creek and afforded means of communication be- 
 tween the two groups of houses. Along the shore 
 of the Muskingum, at various points, were docks at 
 which were moored barges, pirogues and canoes. 
 When Isaac Meeks and family arrived in the early 
 winter of seventeen hundred and eighty-nine, there 
 were seventy-two families and two hundred and thir- 
 ty-six men in the colony. 
 
 At the time of the arrival of Paul Graydon and 
 his faithful black friend, Gumbo, branch settlements 
 had been formed at Belpre twelve miles down the 
 Ohio, and at Waterford twenty-five miles up the 
 Muskingum. The Indians had grown more and 
 more restless and dissatisfied, as the whites thus 
 extended their colonization. However, the settlers 
 at Marietta were not greatly exercised, as they had 
 two strong forts, if danger threatened Fort Har- 
 mer, just across the river, and Campus Martius. 
 We can do no better than to describe the latter in 
 the words of an early chronicler, who says : 
 
 " It is the handsomest pile of buildings on this 
 side of the Allegheny mountains, and in a few days 
 will be the strongest fortification in the territory of 
 the United States. It stands on the margin of the 
 elevated plain on which are the remains of ancient 
 earthworks, thirty feet above the high bank of the
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 115 
 
 Muskingum, twenty-nine perches distant from the 
 river, and two hundred and seventy-six from the 
 Ohio. It consists of a regular square, having a 
 blockhouse at each angle, eighteen feet square on 
 the ground, and two stories high; the upper story, 
 on the outside, or face, jutting over the lower one, 
 eighteen inches. These blockhouses serve as bas- 
 tions to a regular fortification of four sides. The 
 curtains are composed of dwelling houses two stories 
 high, eighteen feet wide, and of different lengths. 
 The blockhouses and curtains are so constructed, 
 with high roofs, etc., as to form one complete and 
 entire building. The timber of which they are built 
 is either sawed or hewed, four inches thick, so 
 that the walls are very smooth ; and, when the seams 
 are pointed with mortar, will be very warm and com- 
 fortable." 
 
 Campus Martius had two gates one in the west- 
 ern wall and one in the southern. In the north- 
 eastern and southwestern watch towers, small can- 
 non were placed, to call the men from the fields 
 and woods, in case of an Indian attack. The cur- 
 tains of the fort were, in reality, rows of well-built 
 dwellings, and contained a number of families. Af- 
 ter this rather tedious but necessary digression, we 
 return to our characters and take up the broken 
 thread of our narrative,
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE morning after his arrival in the settlement, 
 Paul Graydon was astir early. While the 
 women were preparing the morning meal, and Isaac 
 and Gumbo were gone to Colonel Sproat's stable, to 
 look after Prince, the young Englishman saun- 
 tered down to the river bank. The cabin the Meeks 
 family occupied stood half way between the Ohio 
 shore and Campus Martius, and about two hundred 
 yards from the bank of the Muskingum. A min- 
 ute's brisk walking brought Paul to a point where 
 he could overlook the peaceful bosom of the smaller 
 stream. 
 
 The sun was just rising over the eastern hills ; 
 and its warm effulgence rested upon a beauteous 
 scene. Paul took deep draughts of the flower- 
 scented air and feasted his eyes upon the landscape 
 spread out before him. To the south, lay the swell- 
 ing Ohio; and to the north, the sparkling Mus- 
 kingum disapppeared among the wooded hills. In 
 front of him, rose the rock-ribbed heights back of 
 Fort Harmer. From base to pinnacle, they were 
 covered with trees the dark-green of the ever- 
 greens contrasting with the lighter shade the decidu- 
 ous trees had but recently donned. Here and there, 
 (116)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 117 
 
 the emerald sea was broken where the gray cliff 
 thrust its wrinkled front outward, or where the pink 
 blossoms of the redbud or the milk-white petals of 
 the dogwood mingled with the verdant billows, like 
 fragrant foam on a rockbound coast. 
 
 Along the river shore, stood sentinel sycamores 
 and elms of a century's growth; and below and 
 among them, the overhanging willows dipped their 
 pliant fingers into the stream and dallied with the 
 dancing waters. 
 
 A large barge was lazily crawling into the mouth 
 of the Muskingum, and smaller craft were darting 
 here and there. The dip of the boatmen's oars min- 
 gled with the song of birds and the sound of the 
 chopper's ax ; and over and above all, arose the 
 laughter of barefoot children playing around the 
 cabin doors. From a dozen chimneys, the blue 
 smoke curled skyward; and the clank of a drag- 
 ging chain, and stentorian commands, betokened 
 that some early-rising husbandman was off to the 
 woods or fields, with his horned team. 
 
 Paul was about to retrace his steps, when a light 
 and fragile canoe shot swiftly and silently up the 
 stream. Its occupant was an Indian ; and a mo- 
 ment's observation convinced Paul that it was Sil- 
 verheels. The ashen paddle rose and fell with 
 wonderful regularity and rapidity ; and, urged by 
 the vigorous strokes, the canoe quickly disappeared 
 from view, around the bend of the river. 
 
 "What a strange being!" the young man mut-
 
 ii8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 tered. " In some way, I feel that he is not what he 
 seems. He has succored me and mine and I'm 
 strangely drawn toward him. I can't believe he's 
 cruel and treacherous half-breed that he is." 
 
 On returning to the cabin, he found breakfast 
 awaiting his arrival. With a keen appetite born of 
 his morning walk, he seated himself with the others. 
 Isaac bent his head and mumbled a " blessing " 
 over the food, after which he remarked : 
 
 " This ain't much of a meal to offer to the likes 
 o' you, Mr. Paul a man that's alluz been used to 
 more'n a plenty; but it's the best we've got. It's 
 been a mighty hard winter on most o' the settlers. 
 More'n half of 'em don't hardly know now where 
 the next meal's victuals is to come from. It's pur- 
 ty discouragin', I swan! But then me an' mine 
 oughtn't to complain we've got better'n the av'- 
 rage. You see the frost last October ruined nearly 
 all the corn made it so it wan't even fit to feed to 
 the cattle. Corn's been scarce and hard to git 
 at any price; an' a good many hadn't no money 
 to buy with, anyhow. Then the In j ins got jealous 
 of us ; an' they've killed an' scared away most o' 
 the game within twenty miles o' the settlement. 
 Bein' a hunter, my fam'ly hain't never been 'thout 
 meat ; an' I've swopped a right smart of it fer 
 corn an' milk, an' such other things as we didn't 
 have." 
 
 " But we couldn't 'ave got along, nohow, if it 
 hadn't been fer what little money we had," put in
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 119 
 
 Nancy. " You see, there was salt an' even-thing to 
 git ; an' it takes a heap to feed a healthy fam'ly. 
 I'm re'l glad I had some o' y'r aunt's gold, Mr. 
 Paul, even if I didn't git it in jest the honestest way. 
 It's helped to keep us ; an' p'raps you'll be willin' to 
 fergive me, when I tell you that its been the savin' o' 
 Marie, an' all the rest of us." 
 
 Tears were standing in the poor woman's eyes; 
 and her honest heart was throbbing with the pain of 
 guilt and humiliation. 
 
 " For whatever you may have done amiss, I freely 
 forgive you," Graydon said quickly ; and there was 
 the ring of sincerity in his tones. Then he went 
 on musingly : " Perhaps it's for the best, after all. 
 We're here together in a new country far away 
 from the old life and its influences. I'm sincerely 
 thankful the money that was intended to work 
 evil has been the means of doing good. 'Tis a 
 blessed thing that inanimate objects will not always 
 do our bidding! " 
 
 " Amen ! " said Nancy and Isaac fervently. 
 
 Marie, who had been listening silently, now arose, 
 and, stepping softly behind her lover, bent back his 
 head and kissed his upturned face. Then she danced 
 away from him, clapping her hands and 
 laughing. Paul was a little embarrassed by his 
 sweetheart's audacity ; and his face flushed. Mr. 
 Meeks and his wife indulged in a laugh, and Gumbo 
 guffawed. Even the sick girl upon the bed 
 chuckled audibly. Marie's proceeding had the ef-
 
 IX) IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 feet of banishing all reminiscent sorrows and future 
 forebodings. Everyone felt more at ease, than at 
 any time since Paul's arrival. 
 
 Johnnie, who had left the table and gone to the 
 bedside of his sister, now cried : 
 
 " Oh, Mam ! Annie's broke out with somethin' ! " 
 
 " What! " Isaac ejaculated, springing to his feet. 
 
 " Smallpox ! " shrieked Nancy, wringing her 
 hands. 
 
 They gathei ed around the bed, all gesticulating 
 and talking at the same time. The sick child began 
 to cry. 
 
 " Do you feel worse? " Nancy anxiously inquired. 
 
 " Yes," Annie sobbed, drawing her lithe little 
 body into a knot and hiding her head beneath the 
 covers. 
 
 " Where do you feel worse, Annie dear ? " Marie 
 asked, kindly. 
 
 'I I don't don't know ! " 
 
 Paul saw at once that the child was simply 
 frightened, and that whatever the disease, she was 
 not seriously ill. Therefore he said : 
 
 " Our words and actions have alarmed her ; let's 
 keep quiet. Isaac, have you no physician in the 
 colony ? " 
 
 " Yes ; got a good one Dr. Jabez True. He 
 live? jest across Tyber Creek. Do you think we'd 
 better 'ave him, Mr. Paul?" 
 
 "Certainly!" Paul answered. "If this disease 
 be smallpox, we should know it immediately."
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 121 
 
 " Johnnie, run down an' tell Doc True to come up 
 here, right away." 
 
 In an incredibly short space of time Johnnie re- 
 turned, accompanied by the physician. 
 
 Dr. True was a young man of thirty years, tall, 
 slightly stooped, and somewhat ungainly in his 
 movements. His forehead was low and his brows 
 were bulging. A large, aquiline nose overhanging a 
 wide, but firm, mouth did not add to his facial beau- 
 ty. But his was a countenance beaming with the 
 warmth of a big heart. 
 
 " Good morning good morning! " he cried, jo- 
 vially, as he entered the door. " Ah ! the little girl's 
 sick, eh ? Pulse, a little hurried ; tongue, coated ; 
 and skin covered with an eruption. Just open the 
 door a little wider, that I may see better. Thank 
 you. Aye, aye, I see ! You thought you had a case 
 of smallpox, eh ? " 
 
 " We didn't know " Nancy began ; but the 
 doctor held up his finger and stopped her. 
 
 " Well, do you know now? " he asked, his small 
 and restless gray eyes twinkling merrily. 
 
 " No," Mrs. Meeks admitted, " I don't." 
 
 " No ! Well, it's fortunate somebody does. Your 
 daughter has a very mild attack of measles noth- 
 ing more. All she needs is to be kept warm and 
 quiet. I wish you good morning." 
 
 Dr. True withdrew from the cabin ; but the sun- 
 shine that he had brought with him remained. As
 
 122 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 he turned the corner of the house, Paul remarked : 
 " What a pleasant gentleman ! " 
 
 " He's a good doctor an' a good man," Isaac 
 commented ; " an' I don't know what the sick peo- 
 ple 'Id 'ave done here this winter, if it hadn't been 
 fer him. He went in all kinds o' weather never 
 stopped fer nothin' an' never got a cent fer his 
 services. He's " 
 
 " Look here, Isaac Meeks ! " his wife vociferated. 
 "If you want anything to eat fer dinner, you'd 
 better take some corn over to Colonel Stacey's, an' 
 grind it on the hand-mill. Ther' ain't a pint o' 
 meal in the house." 
 
 " All right," yawned the humble Isaac, as he pre- 
 pared to do her bidding. 
 
 " Isaac," Paul inquired, " do you know where 
 Gumbo and I can obtain temporary lodgings? Of 
 course we can't think of quartering ourselves upon 
 you." 
 
 " You're both welcome to stay, if you can put 
 up with the fare," was Mrs. Meeks' rejoinder. 
 
 " We can't accept your kind invitation," Paul re- 
 plied, quickly ; " you're overcrowded already 
 then, it would not be proper for me to stay here 
 with Marie." 
 
 " Perhaps you can obtain quarters at Campus 
 Martius," suggested Marie. 
 
 " Just the thing ! " cried Isaac. " They've got 
 room up there, I'll be bound. Jest wait a little
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 123 
 
 while till I trot over to Colonel Stacey's an' grind 
 this corn, an' I'll go up with you." 
 
 Isaac was gone about a half hour. When he 
 returned panting and sweating from his exer- 
 tions, for the day was growing warm he was 
 accompanied by a young man of about twenty-four 
 years, to whom Mrs. Meeks and Marie accorded a 
 hearty greeting. 
 
 Isaac said : " This is John Stacey, Mr. Paul. 
 He's a son o' the colonel an' a chip off the ol* 
 block. I hope you an' him '11 be good friends ; fer 
 him an' his folks has been mighty kind to us. He's 
 goin' up to Campus Martius with us." 
 
 The two young men shook hands and looked upon 
 each other admiringly. Both were erect, broad- 
 shouldered and athletic perfect specimens of phy- 
 sical manhood. As they moved off in the direction 
 of the fort, Stacey said, laughingly: 
 
 " I welcome you to the settlement, Mr. Graydon, 
 although I'd fain be your rival." 
 
 " I don't understand you," Paul returned, smil- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Mr. Meeks informs me that you're Miss Fonta..- 
 elle's betrothed." 
 
 " I am," was the curt reply. And Paul looked 
 the young man full in the face. 
 
 Stacey made a mock gesture of despair, and 
 answered good-humoredly : " I abandon the field, 
 then. I've greatly admired Marie Miss Fonta- 
 nelle; but I'm clever enough to know that I have
 
 124 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 not the ghost of a chance, now. In fact, I doubt 
 if I ever had a chance she never encouraged 
 me. It was a one-sided affair. You have a prior 
 claim I accept the inevitable. A man of gentle 
 birth, who will follow a woman into such a wilder- 
 ness as this, deserves her ; and I will fight for you, 
 if necessary, to see that you get her." 
 
 Graydon was greatly confused by this unexpected 
 confession, and hardly knew what to do or say. 
 However, he managed to put forth his hand, and 
 murmur an almost inaudible " Thank you." John 
 Stacey took the proffered hand and wrung it hear- 
 tily, saying: 
 
 " The man to whom I give my hand, I give my 
 friendship ; and I promise you that you shall never 
 have cause to accuse me of double dealing." 
 
 This conversation had been carried on in low 
 tones; and neither Isaac nor Gumbo, who followed 
 the young men at a little distance, were aware of 
 its import. The negro now called to Paul, asking: 
 
 " Say, Marse Paul ! What kin' ob place is dat 
 whar we's gwine ? " 
 
 " What place ? " returned Graydon, without look- 
 ing back. 
 
 " Dat Grampus Margaret." 
 
 " It's a fort." 
 
 John Stacey laughed uproariously at the negro's 
 pronunciation ; which caused Gumbo to inquire : 
 
 " W'at is it you calls de place, Marse Paul ? " 
 
 " Campus Martius."
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR . 125 
 
 " Does dey call it Trampus Marchus, 'kase de so- 
 jers am alluz trampin' an' marchin'? " 
 
 " I suppose so," answered Paul, half dreamily ; 
 while Stacey and Isaac bent double, with suppressed 
 merriment. 
 
 They entered at the western gate of the fort 
 over which Winthrop Sargent, secretary of the ter- 
 ritory, had his office and, turning to the right, 
 sought the quarters of Governor Arthur St. Clair, 
 in the southwestern blockhouse. They found him 
 seated in a large, bare room on the ground floor, 
 busily writing at a spindle-legged secretary. He 
 nodded to them, as they entered, and begged them 
 to be seated. They found seats upon a long bench 
 running along one side of the room ; and awaited the 
 governor's pleasure. After writing furiously for 
 some minutes, St. Clair laid down his quill and 
 turned toward them. He was a dignified, smooth- 
 faced man of fifty-six years, with a countenance 
 seamed with care, and something about his eyes and 
 mouth, which seemed to portend the great sorrow 
 that was to come upon him. His dress consisted of 
 a full-skirted coat of blue cloth, from the sleeves 
 of which peeped folds of lace, a maroon colored 
 waistcoat, brown trousers, black hose and silver- 
 buckled shoes. His shirt-front was a mass of bil- 
 lowy ruffles. In answer to the governor's direct 
 question, John Stacey said : 
 
 " Governor St. Clair, I beg leave to introduce to 
 you, Mr. Paul Graydon and his black friend, Gum-
 
 126 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 bo, from Virginia. They arrived in the settlement 
 last night, and are desirous of procuring temporary 
 quarters." 
 
 The governor shook hands with the two newcom- 
 ers, and scrutinized them keenly. Motioning them 
 to be seated again, he said : 
 
 " You are from Virginia, Mr. Graydon ? '' 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "A Virginian by birth?" 
 
 " An Englishman." 
 
 " So I thought. And this black man ? " 
 
 " He's a friend of mine." 
 
 "Your servant your slave?" 
 
 " No, sir," Paul replied stoutly ; " a freeman as 
 free as air." 
 
 " You gave him his freedom? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " A noble act ! From your manner and speech, 
 I judge that you're a gentleman of education and 
 refinement, Mr. Graydon. May I inquire what 
 brings you here ? " 
 
 " To seek my fortune " 
 
 " An' to foller up one o' the purtiest an' sweetest 
 little gals in the country," Isaac completed. 
 
 The governor's lips twitched and then a smile 
 irradiated his features. Paul's face was scarlet 
 from mortified pride. St. Clair recovered his com- 
 posure, and asked hurriedly: 
 
 " To whom do you refer, Mr, 
 
 " To my niece,"
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 127 
 
 "Miss Fontanelle?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Isaac, proudly. 
 
 " A winsome lass," remarked Governor St. Clair, 
 half musingly ; " and the friend of my daughter 
 Louise. I hope you may like the place, Mr. Gray- 
 don and that you may succeed in whatever good 
 thing you may undertake. You've come at a time 
 of great want and distress, however. May I ask 
 what you mean to do? " 
 
 " He's a-goin' to help me in gittin' game fer the 
 settlement, for the present," Meeks interjected be- 
 fore Paul could frame a reply. 
 
 " Very well," was the governor's answer, " we 
 need skillful hunters ; and, if Mr. Meeks recommends 
 you, I know there's no question of your prowess. 
 In regard to quarters, you must see General Putnam 
 or Colonel Sproat. Either will obtain a place for 
 you." 
 
 Then he turned to Gumbo, and asked : 
 
 " My black friend, do you understand the care 
 of horses ? " 
 
 " Y-e-s, sah," Gumbo stammered. 
 
 " Would you like to care for mine? " 
 
 The negro studied for a moment, then he replied : 
 " Yes, sah ; if I can take keer ob Marse Paul's hoss, 
 Prince, 'long wid yours." 
 
 " That can be arranged satisfactorily. Ah ! here 
 is my daughter." 
 
 A vigorous-looking young woman of eighteen 
 summers entered the apartment, with elastic step
 
 128 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 and sprightly air. She had a beautiful oval face 
 and soulful eyes ; and was clad in a close-fitting rid- 
 ing habit of dark green cloth. Going directly up to 
 her father, she threw her arms around his neck 
 and kissed him. Then she stepped back and, tap- 
 ping her skirt with the whip that she held in her 
 gauntleted hand, she said: 
 
 " I am off for a canter, father. I " 
 Here she became aware of Graydon's presence. 
 She stopped speaking suddenly ; her eyes fell, and a 
 pink flush mantled her cheeks. Governor St. Clair 
 stepped forward and introduced the two. After 
 shaking hands with Paul, Miss St. Clair cordially 
 greeted the others not excepting Gumbo. As 
 the men were passing out, she detained John Stacey 
 and held a short conversation with him, in an under- 
 tone. When all had gone, Governor St. Clair re- 
 seated himself at the secretary ; but before resuming 
 his writing he asked suddenly : 
 
 " What do you think of him, daughter? " 
 " Of whom, father ? " returned Louise, in an art- 
 less way. 
 
 " You know ! Of young Gray don ? " 
 " He is handsome and noble-looking." 
 Arthur St. Clair shook his finger impressively, 
 as he said: 
 
 " You mustn't lose your heart there, Louise ; an- 
 other has won him." 
 
 " Yes, I know John Stacey told me," was all 
 the reply she made, as she left the room.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 ON leaving Governor St. Clair's apartments, our 
 friends directed their steps toward the south- 
 east blockhouse, where General Rufus Putnam and 
 family at that time lived. The old Revolutionary 
 officer was just emerging from his door, as the 
 men came up. He was a hale man, a little past the 
 prime of life, but muscular and active. His form 
 was tall and commanding ; his features were rugged 
 and resolute. An injury to one eye gave a pecu- 
 liar, half-sinister expresssion to his face, that im- 
 pressed itself upon the mind of the beholder. He 
 was a firm, brave man, of great executive ability, 
 brusque and abrupt in his manners, but kind-heart- 
 ed and humane, withal. 
 
 " Good morning, Stacey," was his greeting, as 
 the visitors drew near. " Present your compan- 
 ions." 
 
 " This is Isaac Meeks you know Mr. Meeks, 
 general ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I know Meeks. Go on." 
 " And this is Mr. Paul Graydon of Virginia " 
 " And that's his black slave, I suppose ! " Putnam 
 interrupted. 
 
 Paul Graydon's English temper aroused; and he 
 
 dag)
 
 130 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 made no attempt to conceal his irritation, as he re- 
 plied hotly : 
 
 " General Putnam, it seems a little strange 
 to me, that one who is the founder of a 
 colony whose charter contains an article prohib- 
 iting involuntary servitude, should be unable to real- 
 ize that a white man and a black man may be friends 
 and associates, and yet both remain free ! " 
 
 "He's not your slave, then?" the general re- 
 turned, his impassive face showing not the slightest 
 change of expression." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " I suppose you gave him his freedom ? " 
 
 Paul nodded stiffly ; he was growing tired of being 
 plied with questions. But General Putnam con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " You hail from Virginia ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " From, what part do you come ? " 
 
 " The Shenandoah valley." 
 
 " You're one of those the Indians call ' Long 
 Knives,' then. Are you and Isaac Meeks old ac- 
 quaintances ? " 
 
 " We are." 
 
 " Well, I hope you're as good a hunter as he. 
 But there's one thing about which I wish to cau- 
 tion all of you especially you hot-blooded young 
 fellows. Avoid all altercations with roving Indians. 
 They're growing more and more restless and surly. 
 We shall have trouble with them in the not dis-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 131 
 
 tant future ; but I don't wish to have the war 
 precipitated. With our scattered settlements, our 
 incomplete defences and unorganized militia, we're 
 in no fit condition to withstand a prolonged and 
 vigorous siege. When we've raised another crop 
 of corn and vegetables, and strengthened our forti- 
 fications, possibly we may be able to repel their 
 attacks. Now, Mr. Graydon, there's a vacant room 
 in the northeast blockhouse, that you are welcome 
 to occupy ; and you can move your effects there, as 
 soon as you choose. Stacey, you'll show the gentle- 
 man the place. I bid you all good morning." 
 
 He strode away in the direction of the governor's 
 office. 
 
 By evening, Paul and Gumbo were installed in 
 their quarters. The other inhabitants of the for- 
 tress made liberal contributions to the meager stock 
 of cooking utensils and household goods, that Mrs. 
 Meeks had lent the two; and as Gumbo looked 
 upon the array, he chuckled: 
 
 " Ki yi ! Marse Paul, dis seerns like ol' days in 
 my mammy's cabin 'way back in ol' Virginny. 
 We'll hab good times neber fear. Fs a splendif- 
 erous cook, and you's a mighty ramrod " 
 
 " You mean Nimrod, Gumbo." 
 
 " Dat's w'at I said, Marse Paul. You's a mighty 
 Nimrod, an'll furnace plenty ob meat an' co'nmeal ; 
 an' I'll do de cookin' an' 'tend to Prince an' Marse 
 'Glair's hosses. All Fs 'feared ob is dat w'en yo'
 
 132 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 marries dat purty little gal, you won't hab no use fo' 
 ol' Gumbo." 
 
 And the negro looked beseechingly at his former 
 master. 
 
 " I'll not marry until I've a home and land of my 
 own," Paul replied almost sadly ; " and I've no 
 money to purchase land. However, you shall have 
 a home with us always." 
 
 " I's ober joyful to hear you say dat, Marse Paul. 
 'T'ould a-broke dis nigger's heart to tink dat you'd 
 eber git tired ob habin' him 'round. I's gwine down 
 now, to bring Prince up an' put him in de stable 
 wid Marse 'Clair's cattle." 
 
 After supper, Paul went to the home of Isaac 
 Meeks. The air within doors was warm ; and the 
 two lovers left the cabin and strolled down to the 
 bank of the Muskingum. The scene was one of 
 peace and quiet, giving no hint of the lurking danger 
 that ever hovered near. No harsher sound was 
 heard, than the ripple of the water at their feet, or 
 the tinkle of cowbells in the paddock near at hand. 
 Seating themselves upon a fallen tree trunk, they 
 talked over the past and made plans for the future. 
 
 " I see little opportunity of procuring land here, 
 without money," Paul said ; " and, without land and 
 home, what can one do toward supporting a family ? 
 Land we must have, Marie land upon which we 
 can erect a home of our own, let it be ever so 
 humble." 
 
 " Colonel Stacey told Uncle Isaac, a few days ago,
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 133 
 
 that the Ohio Company intends to donate a large 
 section of land, to actual settlers, this summer and 
 fall," was Marie's answer. 
 
 " Where is this tract situated ? " he asked, eagerly. 
 
 " A number of miles up the Muskingum. Uncle 
 says the valley is level and very fertile just as it 
 is here ; and that, if a colony is formed, he will go." 
 
 Graydon's face brightened. He thought he saw 
 a way out of his difficulties. " I'll go, too," he re- 
 plied, " and enter land. Then, when I have a house 
 and a clearing, we shall be married." 
 
 She patted his tanned cheek and murmured : 
 
 " It's too bad that my boy should be compelled to 
 leave all that makes life worth living, and come into 
 this wild country, where there is nothing but want 
 and danger and all for my sake." 
 
 He tenderly drew her to him, and whispered : 
 " It's no sacrifice! I am pleased that it's so. We'll 
 make our own way, sweetheart." 
 
 They sat for some time in silence. Suddenly she 
 cried : " Oh ! did you meet the governor's eldest 
 daughter today ? She and I are good friends." 
 
 " I met her yes." 
 
 " Did you fall in love with her?" she roguishly 
 interrogated. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " She is beautiful." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 " And clever and accomplished." 
 
 " I've no doubt."
 
 134 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " And yet you didn't lose your heart? " 
 
 " I had lost it already." 
 
 In the starlight he saw a pair of mischievous eyes 
 and two pouting lips but it is not incumbent upon 
 us to say what he did. Then he held the young wo- 
 man at arm's length and said : 
 
 " Now, my sweet inquisitor, allow me to catechise 
 you." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " Do you know a young man of the settlement, 
 John Stacey by name ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " He's a handsome, manly fellow ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And one any woman might love." 
 
 " True." 
 
 Paul was growing a little uneasy ; Marie was ad- 
 mitting too much. He went on : 
 
 " In fact, an attractive young man, in many re- 
 spects." 
 
 " Indeed, he is." 
 
 " Do you know of any woman that loves him? " 
 
 " I do ! " 
 
 Paul almost lost his breath. His words were 
 barely audible, as he finished: 
 
 " To whom do you refer? " 
 
 " His mother ! " And she laughed roguishly. 
 Presently she said in all seriousness : 
 
 " No, my Paul, I love none but you. Say what 
 you will, I know what you have sacrificed for my
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 135 
 
 sake. Had you loved your cousin, you would be 
 married and happy today." 
 
 " Married, perhaps ; but happy no," was the 
 unhesitating reply. " I lived under the shadow of 
 the institution of slavery about as long as I could 
 bear it. I'm sincerely thankful I've cast my lot in a 
 territory whose inhabitants do not traffic in human 
 life. Some day it will take a long and bloody war 
 to kill the monster which, by that time, will be sap- 
 ping the energies of the best people of the South." 
 
 Paul Graydon's words were prophetic. A monu- 
 ment erected to the memory of Washington County 
 soldiers, who fell in the great struggle he foresaw, 
 stands near where he and his betrothed were, that 
 night, sitting. 
 
 When they returned to the Meeks cabin, Paul was 
 anxious to discover what Isaac knew of Silverheels ; 
 and asked about the warning of the night before. 
 
 " The voice sounded like that of a redskin," was 
 Isaac's evasive answer. 
 
 " Perhaps it was one of your neighbor's," Paul 
 suggested. 
 
 Isaac shook his head. 
 
 " Injin talk, clear through! He acted jest like 
 one, too ; give the alarm an' run away in the dark. 
 A white man 'Id 'ave staid to help put the fire out." 
 
 " But he did give us warning. Would an Indian 
 have done that ? " 
 
 " That very question's been puzzlin' me all day ; 
 an' I can't come to but one c'nclusion."
 
 136 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " And that is ? " 
 
 " That the feller at the door was a halfbreed call- 
 ed Silverheels. He hangs 'round the settlements, at 
 times, an' pr'tends to be very friendly but you 
 can't trust an Injin; an' he's got Injin in him." 
 
 " Where does this halfbreed live, Isaac ? " 
 
 Mr. Meeks filled and lighted his pipe, before re- 
 plying: 
 
 " He has a hut some'rs up the Muskingum 'r 
 Moose Eye, as the In j ins all call it. As near as I 
 know, he's a halfbreed Shawnee that's left his tribe, 
 fer some reason. He talks good English; an' some 
 folks say he has some book learnin' I don't know. 
 One thing I do know : I wouldn't trust him as fer's 
 I could throw a bear by the tail ! He's a Injin an' 
 the worst kind, fer he's a Shawnee." 
 
 " Are the Shawnees worse than other Indians, 
 Isaac?" 
 
 " They are the crudest, bloodthirstiest people on 
 earth ! Ther's nothing too mean fer a Shawnee to 
 do." 
 
 " They're brave, are they not ? " 
 
 " Yes, ther's no gainsayin' that they're brave. But 
 'taint no use talkin', Mr. Paul ; a redskin ain't fit to 
 live ! You mustn't put no confidence in 'em, 'r you'll 
 regret it the longest day you live." 
 
 When Paul reached the fort he found the gate 
 closed for the night, and had some trouble gaining 
 admittance. He dropped asleep almost as soon as he 
 touched his bed ; but spent a restless night dreaming
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 137 
 
 of famines and Indian encounters. At early dawn 
 he arose, and, snatching a few mouthfuls of food, 
 set out upon a hunting expedition, accompanied by 
 Isaac Meeks and John Stacey.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 SPRING with all its beauties came and went. But 
 there was neither feasting nor merrymaking 
 for the poor colonists at Marietta and the outlying 
 settlements. Gaunt want stalked beside them in the 
 woods and fields, and flashed his white teeth at their 
 cabin doors. Sickness caused mainly by the scant 
 quantity and poor quality of food prevailed to an 
 alarming extent ; and Dr. Jabez True got little rest 
 or sleep. He made frequent visits to Belpre and 
 Waterford, beside attending the sick at Marietta. 
 All this he did without the hope or thought of re- 
 ceiving adequate compensation for his services. His 
 was a life of self-sacrifice ; and he gave his best 
 years to those who could pay him in nothing but 
 tears and sobs. Peace to his ashes ! 
 
 With all their sickness, want and worry, the Ma- 
 rietta colonists were courageous and hopeful, if not 
 at all times blithe and cheerful. Each lent a helping 
 hand, and, in so doing, forgot a part of his own de- 
 privation. 
 
 Paul Graydon and John Stacey became fast 
 friends. They hunted and fished sometimes ac- 
 companied by Isaac Meeks; and many were the 
 pleasant and profitable hours they spent together. 
 They were congenial companions, and enjoyed the 
 (138)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 139 
 
 excitement of a hunter s life ; while their efforts en- 
 abled the settlers the better to eke out an existence. 
 It was a luckless day, indeed, when they did not 
 return bearing some worthy trophy of their prowess. 
 And yet the day came when they were forced to ac- 
 knowledge to themselves, that their skill and cun- 
 ning had availed naught, and to return empty 
 handed. 
 
 Marie Fontanelle and Louise St. Clair had been 
 close companions ever since the date of the former's 
 arrival in the colony. The advent of Paul in no way 
 interfered with their friendly intercourse. What 
 Louise was to Marie, John was to Paul; and, as a 
 consequence, the four spent much time together. 
 They rode on horseback through the green and 
 shady aisles of the forest ; boated upon the rivers ; 
 and rambled through the settlement, at will. As the 
 season advanced, however, they grew more circum- 
 spect, and seldom went far beyond sight of the vil- 
 lage ; for the Indians daily grew more surly and 
 threatening. At this time, the savages did not ap- 
 proach the borders of the settlement, but lay in wait 
 down the Ohio or up the Muskingum, to wreak ven- 
 geance upon some unwary traveler or venturesome 
 hunter. 
 
 Paul and Marie, when alone, often talked of their 
 absent friends and wondered why they were not lov- 
 ers. They were so well suited to each other. The 
 fates willed it otherwise, however. It was patent 
 to all observers, that John preferred Marie and that
 
 140 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Louise was partial to Paul. When the four were 
 together, Paul was more often Louise's companion, 
 leaving Marie to the care of John. 
 
 One beautiful June Sunday, Rev. Daniel Story, 
 who had come to the colony in the spring of seven- 
 teen hundred and eighty-nine, was preaching to his 
 congregation at Campus Martius. At that time 
 services were held in the upper story of the north- 
 west blockhouse. The room had been fitted with 
 a rude desk and benches ; and seated about two hun- 
 dred persons. On this particular morning, it was 
 comfortably filled with a mixed assembly in motley 
 garb. The high-born dame sat, cheek by jowl, with 
 the backwoods slattern ; and the revolutionary cock- 
 ed hat was on intimate terms with the coonskin cap. 
 Like their New England sires, many of the men had 
 come to church bearing their firearms ; and their 
 guns, stacked in the corners of the room, gave the 
 place the appearance of an arsenal. 
 
 The balmy air, soporific with the moist, spicy smell 
 of the green woodland, stole through the narrow 
 openings in the log walls and soothed into slumber 
 more than one devout believer. A gold-banded bum- 
 ble-bee, his sturdy legs laden with the pollen of the 
 pumpkin blosssoms in the fields beyond the fortress, 
 floated in on the fragrant tide, and took infinite 
 pleasure in buzzing and booming here and there, 
 and undoing the work the breeze had done. 
 
 The minister was a tall, slender young man, with 
 pale face and stooped shoulders; but the tones of
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 141 
 
 his voice were deep and sonorous. He read from 
 closely written manuscript; and a profound hush 
 fell upon the audience, and one and all listened at- 
 tentively to what he was saying. As he proceeded, 
 he touched upon the Indians and the duties of the 
 settlers toward the benighted heathen. 
 
 " We should deal gently with them," he said, " for 
 the sake of the Father of all. If we, having the light 
 of the Sacred Word to guide us, persecute and op- 
 press them, how great shall be our punishment! 
 They are ignorant and know not what they do ; we 
 are enlightened and know good from evil. Let us 
 beware that we err not ! " 
 
 His words created a stir. A breezy murmur ran 
 through the congregation. 
 
 The minister continued : 
 
 " We should give the red men no cause for jeal- 
 ousy or envy. At present we are at peace with 
 them ; we should strive to " 
 
 Here he was interrupted by a disturbance in the 
 rear of the house. A coatless, breathless man had 
 dashed through the western gate of the fort and 
 bounded up the stairs. He now stood at the door 
 of the room in which the people were assembled, 
 sweat dripping from his sunburned face and his 
 limbs trembling with exertion and excitement. 
 
 " Is Dr. True here? " he hurriedly inquired, as he 
 doffed his cap and closely scanned the faces before 
 him.
 
 142 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " What's wanted, my good man ? " the minister 
 inquired. 
 
 " I want Dr. True, and I want him immediately. 
 Is he here?" 
 
 " Here I am," cried the latter, as he hastily arose 
 and advanced toward the door. " Is some one se- 
 riously ill? " 
 
 The members of the congregation craned their 
 necks to catch the reply; but the man dropped his 
 voice to a semi-whisper and his answer was lost. 
 
 "Is that true can it be possible!" was Dr. 
 True's involuntary exclamation, as he crushed his 
 hat upon his head and followed the man from the 
 room. As the two hurriedly descended the stair- 
 way they talked in ordinary tones, and bits of the 
 conversation floated into the room above. Those 
 near the door caught the words, " Indians two 
 killed and one wounded attacked the boat 
 strangers hid in the willows." 
 
 This was enough. Many sprang to their feet ; a 
 few started for the door, and all were talking. The 
 clergyman sought to restore order in vain. Colonel 
 Ebenezer Sproat drew his herculean form of six 
 feet-four to its full height and bellowed : 
 
 " Cut it short, parson ! You'll have to give us the 
 rest some other time! There's been an Indian 
 scrimmage somewhere ; and somebody may be need- 
 ing help. Come on, men; let's see what it all 
 means !" 
 
 Catching up their arms, the men crowded through
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 143 
 
 the door and thundered down the steps, in hot pur- 
 suit of the strange messenger and Dr. True. The 
 women and children, with pale faces, huddled to- 
 gether and conversed in low, awestruck tones. 
 
 " Marie," Paul cried, " you remain with Louise 
 at her home, until we ascertain the cause of the 
 alarm. Come, Stacey, let's overtake the man and 
 question him. Do you know whence he hails? " 
 
 " From Belpre," John replied, as he followed Paul 
 out of the room. 
 
 "From Belpre? Then the attack has not been 
 made near here." 
 
 " No." 
 
 Young and fleet of foot, they passed those who 
 had preceded them down the stairway, and soon 
 overtook the doctor and his companion. 
 
 " Have the Indians attacked some one ? " Paul in- 
 quired of the stranger. 
 
 The man nodded vigorously and quickened his 
 pace toward the Ohio shore. Just at this moment 
 Colonel Sproat came up, purring like an over-driven 
 horse. 
 
 " Say ! " he shouted at the top of his voice. " Stop 
 and explain ! Has there been a brush with the In- 
 dians?" 
 
 Dr. True answered in the affirmative ; but the mes- 
 senger kept a dogged silence. 
 
 Incensed at what he considered the fellow's surli- 
 ness, Colonel Sproat leaped forward and, catching
 
 144 /AT THE DAYS OP ST. CLAIR 
 
 the man by the arm, lifted him from his feet and 
 shook him as a dog shakes a rat. 
 
 " Come out with it ! " the enraged colonel cried 
 hoarsely. 
 
 Released from the giant's grasp, the man tenderly 
 rubbed his injured member and said in a crestfallen 
 way: 
 
 " The Indians attacked a pirogue and killed one 
 man and wounded two others." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Three miles above Belpre." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Early this morning." 
 
 " Who were the men ? " 
 
 " Traders from down the river." 
 
 " Where are the wounded men ? " 
 
 " At Belpre." 
 
 " And you came for the doctor ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What became of the Indians ? " 
 
 " They were in a large canoe when they attacked 
 the pirogue. The traders killed several of them; 
 and the others landed upon the Ohio shore, and are 
 probably hid in the woods." 
 
 " How many were there ? " 
 
 " Nine or ten." 
 
 "What tribe?" 
 
 " I don't know to a certainty probably a wan- 
 dering band of Shawnees."
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 145 
 
 " No doubt no doubt," the colonel said musing- 
 ly. " Well, that's all I want to know if I did have 
 to shake it out of you. Next time, young man, an- 
 swer civil questions ; and you won't get such rough 
 treatment." 
 
 Quite a crowd had collected by this time. The 
 messenger and the doctor hurried on to where a long 
 canoe lay, in which were seated two men. The doc- 
 tor and his companion stepped in, the paddles dip- 
 ped, and they soon disappeared down the stream. 
 
 After watching the canoe out of sight, Colonel 
 Sproat said to the group that surrounded him: 
 " There's a warning in this at any rate a warning 
 to all of us. We must keep an eye on the Delawares 
 and Wyandots at the headwaters of the Muskin- 
 gum." 
 
 " Why, this attack wasn't made by them 1 " ex- 
 claimed Commodore Whipple. 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that " Colonel Sproat be- 
 gan ; but the doughty commodore interrupted him 
 by saying: 
 
 "' The man who came for Dr. True said they were 
 Shawnees." 
 
 " True ; but he wasn't certain. I believe we shall 
 find they were Delawares or Wyandots. I reason 
 on it in this way : If they were Shawnees, what did 
 they mean by making an attack above Belpre? 
 Surely they have sense enough to know that their 
 retreat down the river'll be cut off ? And their home 
 
 is on the Scioto." 
 10
 
 146 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " But how could the Delawares, or Wyandots 
 come down the Muskingum, pass this place, and 
 gain the Ohio, without our knowing it?" asked 
 Winthrop Sargent, secretary of the colony. 
 
 " By silently drifting down in the night, proba- 
 bly; but my idea is that they did not pass here at 
 all." 
 
 " What course did they take, if they didn't come 
 this way ? " asked Whipple. 
 
 " They traveled overland." 
 
 Peals of hearty laughter greeted the development 
 of the colonel's theory. Gaining control of his feel- 
 ings at last, the commodore gave a hitch to his bag- 
 gy trousers and said : 
 
 " Went overland, did they, colonel ? Queer sort 
 of voyage, I must say voyaging overland in a 
 canoe, without chart or compass ! Shiver my bow- 
 sprit, but they must be descendants of old Noah ! 
 Here's an old barnacle that's plowed the seas for 
 years and ought to be there now but he never 
 heard of such a voyage as that ! " 
 
 Colonel Sproat's jolly face was wreathed in 
 smiles ; and he did not resent the commodore's ban- 
 tering. He replied simply : 
 
 " They didn't have a canoe." 
 
 " But they did! " Winthrop Sargent insisted. 
 
 " After they reached the Ohio yes," admitted 
 Colonel Sproat. 
 
 " Oh ! Well, where did they get it ? " 
 
 " Stole it from settlers in Belpre, or vicinity."
 
 7.V THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 147 
 
 " You are simply surmising all this, aren't you, 
 colonel ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Again the crowd laughed at the big, good-natured 
 colonel ; but their merriment was cut short by a few 
 words from Colonel Stacey, father of Paul Gray- 
 don's friend. The old gentleman quietly remarked : 
 
 " I'm firm in the belief that Sproat's right. As 
 many of you know, I was a prisoner among the In- 
 dians at one time ; and I know much of their habits 
 of warfare. It isn't at all improbable that the Del- 
 a wares have done just what Sproat thinks." 
 
 This closed the discussion. The excitement hav- 
 ing subsided, the people wended their way home- 
 ward to partake of their meager dinners. 
 
 Marie spent the afternoon with Louise St. Clair, 
 at the latter's home. An hour or two before sunset, 
 the four young people left the fort and sauntered 
 down to the Muskingum. 
 
 As they were leaving, Governor St. Clair followed 
 them to the door and admonished them to be cau- 
 tious and not to go beyond the outskirts of the vil- 
 lage. His last words were: 
 
 " Young men, I see that you are unarmed. Per- 
 haps it is as well ; but I'm apprehensive that those 
 marauding savages haven't left the vicinity of the 
 settlement. They're bent on murder and plunder; 
 and they'll not abandon the field until they have 
 sated their appetites. Go ; but be wary. I shall not 
 rest easy until I know of your safe return."
 
 i4 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Louise tenderly kissed him and called him a dear, 
 foolish old father. Stacey and Graydon assured 
 him they would protect their companions, and, ere 
 he could frame a reply, the four were off for the 
 river. They embarked in Stacey's cedar dugout 
 the young women at the paddles and glided swift- 
 ly out of the mouth of the Moose Eye, into the Ohio. 
 They permitted the canoe to float with the current, 
 and with joke and song whiled away the care-free 
 moments. 
 
 Reaching a point two miles below the settlement, 
 they decided they had gone far enough and made 
 preparations to return. As Marie and Louise skill- 
 fully and swiftly turned the prow of the boat up- 
 stream, Paul caught sight of a large, dark object 
 moving out from the overhanging bushes upon the 
 Ohio shore. One glance told him it was a canoe ; 
 and Paul Graydon's heart stood almost still, as he 
 made the horrifying discovery that it was rilled with 
 Indians ! 
 
 The sun was low upon the western horizon ; and 
 the long, narrow canoe was but dimly visible as it 
 silently shot through the shadows cast by the trees 
 along the shore. At the time of Paul's discovery, 
 it was fully one hundred yards to the rear of the 
 boat occupied by him and his friends. There were 
 eight or ten Indians in it; and four half-naked, 
 brawny savages were wielding the paddles. It was 
 at once evident to Paul that the red men were hug-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 149 
 
 ging the shore, for the purpose of remaining unseen 
 until they were close upon the party of whites. 
 
 Stacey was seated in the bow ; Graydon occupied 
 the stern, and the two girls had places in the middle ; 
 and all sat facing the prow. Without a word, Paul 
 leaned forward and took the paddle from Marie's 
 hand. Then he said, in a low tone : 
 
 " John, take the other paddle. We're in great 
 danger there's no time for explanation. Girls, 
 trim the canoe and sit perfectly quiet. Now to- 
 gether ! " 
 
 Propelled by the vigorous strokes of the young 
 athletes, the light boat fairly flew. At each dip of 
 the paddles, it seemed to lift itself and to skim the 
 surface of the river, like a bird. Stacey implicitly 
 obeyed his friend, looking neither to the right nor to 
 the left as he bent to the arduous work. Louise and 
 Marie placed their white hands upon the sides of 
 the vibrating canoe, to steady its dangerous sway- 
 ing, kept their eyes fixed upon the distant hilltops, 
 bathed in rays of the setting sun, and uttered no 
 word. Paul, his hat thrown off, his long brown 
 locks tossing in the wind and his dark face set and 
 stern, anxiously glanced over his shoulder from 
 time to time and noted, with growing fear, that 
 their pursuers were steadily gaining. 
 
 The Indians drew nearer and nearer. Only a 
 few yards separated them when the savages emitted 
 yells of triumph and discharged their firearms at the
 
 ISO IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 helpless fugitives. The rocking of the canoes pre- 
 vented correct aim, however, and the whizzing balls 
 did no harm, spattering the water and burying 
 themselves in the side of the dugout. 
 
 " Down, girls down ! " Paul panted breathless- 
 ly. " Together, John steady ! " 
 
 They were fully a mile and a half from the set- 
 tlement and the Indians were pressing them hard. 
 One gigantic brave stood in the bow of the canoe, 
 directing the red paddlers and encouraging them 
 to greater efforts. At the critical moment when it 
 appeared to Paul that there was no salvation for 
 them succor came from an unexpected quarter. 
 
 The sharp crack of a rifle rang out upon the even- 
 ing air, and a puff of white smoke issued from the 
 willows upon the Ohio shore. The big brave in the 
 bow of the pursuing canoe threw up his hands and 
 fell backward among his warriors, creating conster- 
 nation and confusion that threatened to swamp the 
 overladen craft. The paddlers dropped their pad- 
 dles and threw overboard the body of their fallen 
 chieftain, righted the course of their drifting boat, 
 and again took up the pursuit. But stimulated by 
 the unexpected aid, Paul and his companions were 
 rapidly drawing away from them. 
 
 Again the rifle of the concealed marksman spoke, 
 and, in answer, another Indian sank into the bottom 
 of the canoe. Discouraged by the death of their two 
 companions, and realizing that they could not over- 
 take the fugitives ere the latter drew too near
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 151 
 
 -the settlement the red men turned about and sul- 
 lenly paddled down the stream. At that moment a 
 third canoe containing but a single occupant 
 dashed from the sheltering bank and sped swiftly 
 toward the middle of the stream. Reaching a point 
 directly astern of the dugout containing the whites, 
 the stranger sprang to his feet and uttering the 
 blood-curdling warwhoop of the Shawnees, fired a 
 parting shot at the retreating Indians. Then he 
 dropped his rifle, caught up his paddle, and quickly 
 overtook the party he had succored. The lone war- 
 rior was Silverheels ! 
 
 The reverberating reports of the guns had reached 
 the ears of another boatload of young people farther 
 up the river. They had hastened toward the village, 
 shouting the alarm as they went. Now the sullen 
 boom of the cannon at Fort Harmer floated out upon 
 the still evening air, and was answered by the 
 hoarse barks of those at Campus Martius. The 
 excited people caught up their weapons and hurried 
 to the water front. Some of them sprang into boats 
 and set off in the direction of the firing, while oth- 
 ers remained to defend their homes, fearing an im- 
 mediate attack. 
 
 As the Shawnee came up with the almost exhaust- 
 ed fugitives, Paul exclaimed : 
 
 " Silverheels ! " 
 
 " Ugh ! " was the guttural reply. " Are the white 
 pigeons unhurt ? "
 
 152 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " They are unhurt but very badly frightened/' 
 was the reply. 
 
 " How can we ever repay you ? " Marie exclaimed 
 as she looked up and shuddered. 
 
 " The Shawnee wants nothing," Silverheels an- 
 swered proudly. " He knows how to revenge him- 
 self upon his enemies ! " 
 
 " Accept our sincere thanks, at least," cried Sta- 
 cey, speaking for the first time since the pursuit be- 
 gan. Louise sat and shivered, but said nothing. 
 
 Silverheels grunted a reply and, with two strokes 
 of his paddle, shot his canoe ahead of them and led 
 the way toward the settlement.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 As the two canoes drew near the village a flotilla 
 came to meet them. The dip of many oars, 
 the voices of those in the boats, the screams and 
 shouts of those on shore, and the vociferous bark- 
 ing of a dozen curs combined to turn the quiet of the 
 Sabbath evening into a pandemonium. Paul and 
 his party were deluged with questions, to all of 
 which they returned brief answers, as they pushed 
 on toward the landing. Silverheels attempted to 
 escape into the mouth of the Muskingum ; but he 
 was headed off by the half delirious colonists and 
 compelled to land with the others. 
 
 As the canoe containing Marie and Louise touch- 
 ed the beach, two stalwart settlers waded into the 
 water and lifted them ashore. Among those as- 
 sembled at the water's edge were Isaac Meeks and 
 Nancy, and Governor St. Clair and his younger 
 daughter. The governor, his features twitching 
 and the tears in his eyes, placed an arm around each 
 of his children and murmured fervently : 
 " Thank God, Louise, you are unharmed ! " 
 Isaac gave Marie a bear-like hug and capered 
 about in a frenzy of joy; while Nancy caught her 
 niece to her heart and sobbed aloud. The Staceys 
 
 (i53)
 
 154 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 were there to congratulate John on his escape, and 
 Gumbo was at hand to receive Paul. The negro came 
 forward, his black face shining with delight, and, 
 clutching the young Englishman by both hands, 
 swayed to and fro, laughing and crying by turns. 
 
 " I'se pow'ful glad to see you I is, Marse 
 Paul ! " he blubbered. " Dem In j ins didn't done kill 
 you, did dey ? " 
 
 Paul replied in the negative. 
 
 " Is you sure, Marse Paul ? " 
 
 Graydon answered affirmatively. 
 
 " An' dey didn't sculp you ? " 
 
 " No; I'm uninjured, Gumbo.'* 
 
 " Well, isn't dis nigger right down glad ! Kase 
 w'at in de worT, Marse Paul, 'Id you do wid de 
 whole top ob y'r head cl'ar off, an' de piece manipu- 
 latin' roun' de woods in the pocket ob a red debil ? " 
 
 This question was beyond the scope of Paul's in- 
 tellect ; and he wisely declined to answer. He pat- 
 ted the darky upon the back, and assured him that 
 the Indians had failed to inflict a wound upon any 
 of the party. Then, turning to Governor St. Clair, 
 he said : 
 
 "I'm chagrined that this adventure should have 
 befallen us, governor, although I'm sincerely 
 thankful that it has ended so happily. Bestow all 
 blame upon me I should have heeded your words 
 of caution." 
 
 " No ! " Louise cried, catching her father's hand
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 155 
 
 and looking at him appealingly. " He's not at all to 
 blame. I " 
 
 Governor St. Clair playfully placed his hand over 
 her mouth and stopped her. 
 
 " I have neither blame nor praise to bestow," he 
 said. " The less said the sooner mended. Tell me 
 all about the attack." 
 
 Paul did as the governor requested, while the ex- 
 cited and angry settlers crowded around him and 
 listened with rapt attention. When he told of the 
 Indians firing upon him and his unarmed and help- 
 less companions, the indignant colonists broke into 
 hoarse growls of rage and looked about for some 
 object upon which to work their vengeance. Silver- 
 heels stood apart from the group, his sinewy arms 
 folded upon his chest and an impassive look upon 
 his bronze face. 
 
 " There's one of the greasy, ugly varmints now ! " 
 shouted an enraged backwoodsman. " May be he 
 didn't have anything to do with this affair, but he 
 has with some other. Let's give him a lesson ! " 
 
 "That's it! Kill him! throw him into the 
 river ! " were the answering cries. And ere a hand 
 could be lifted to stay their mad impulses, they 
 threw themselves upon the Indian and attempted to 
 bear him to the ground. The Shawnee shook them 
 off as a dog shakes water from his shaggy coat ; and, 
 springing backward, clubbed his empty rifle and 
 swung it around his head. Marie and Louise 
 screamed in affright, and with the other women
 
 156 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 beat a hasty retreat. The baffled whites made a sec- 
 ond attempt to close, and would have succeeded had 
 not John and Paul sprung between them and their 
 victim. 
 
 " Stop, men ! " Stacey thundered. " Would you 
 harm him who saved us from a horrible death ? " 
 
 The infuriated settlers hesitated but for a moment. 
 Again they surged forward, their eyes glaring, their 
 chests heaving. 
 
 " Out of the way, boys, 'r take the consequences 
 along with the redskin ! " howled the man who had 
 incited the atttack. 
 
 Paul and his friend maintained their ground. The 
 former looked into the faces of the angry men, and 
 was surprised to see Isaac Meeks among the lead- 
 ers ! Leaping forward, Graydon thrust his fist into 
 the hunter's face, and hissed: 
 
 " Listen, Isaac ! Twice has this Indian been in- 
 strumental in saving my life ; and I'll not desert him 
 in his hour of need. The man who harms a hair of 
 the Shawnee's head does so at the peril of his own 
 life ! " 
 
 Isaac started back, carrying the others with him. 
 Paul was quick to take advantage of the respite, and 
 continued rapidly : 
 
 " Wait until we are through telling you of our 
 adventure, and you'll be heartily ashamed of your- 
 selves. As Stacey has told you, this despised red 
 man, unaided and alone, saved us from death." 
 
 He had gained their attention for the moment;
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 157 
 
 and he went on hurriedly, telling them of the attack 
 and of Silverheels' successful defense. The sun 
 had sunk behind the western hills, and the shadows 
 of night were invading the valley. As Paul con- 
 tinued he could scarcely discern the faces of the 
 men before him ; but he knew, from their attitude 
 and their exclamations, that he had won them and 
 had nothing further to fear. 
 
 As he finished several came forward, shook 
 hands with him and John, and apologized. Among 
 these was Isaac. He sidled up to Graydon and in a 
 shamefaced way began : 
 
 " I alluz was a fool, Mr. Paul " 
 
 " An' you alluz ''// be ! " Nancy commented, el- 
 bowing her way forward. 
 
 Without heeding the interruption, Isaac contin- 
 ued: 
 
 " Jest as you said I'd be, Mr. Paul, I'm teetotally 
 ashamed o' myself ; an' I'm a-goin' to ask that red- 
 skin's pardon, if it's the last act o' my life! " 
 
 A cheer went up from the crowd at these words. 
 Silverheels stood like a statue of bronze, his face as 
 immobile as before the disturbance. In answer to 
 the humble apologies from those who a few mo- 
 ments before were thirsting for his blood, he said : 
 
 " The palefaces are like she wolves they would 
 bite the hand of him who has saved their whelps 
 from the forest fire. I will not thrust my hand into 
 the wolf's mouth ! " 
 
 And again he folded his arms upon his chest, thus
 
 158 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 declining to grasp the hands extended toward him. 
 
 At this moment Governor St. Clair came forward, 
 leading Louise and Marie. 
 
 " At least, my red friend," were his words, " you 
 will permit these young ladies to thank you for hav- 
 ing saved their lives. It was a great and noble act ; 
 and I join them in their expression of gratitude." 
 
 The Shawnee slowly unfolded his arms and bent 
 his head. Marie and Louise wrung his hand and in 
 broken accents thanked him for what he had done. 
 Paul and John, also, rested their palms in his and 
 assured him of their everlasting friendship. The 
 Indian's hard face softened perceptibly as he held 
 Paul's hand and gazed into the latter 's eyes, as 
 though striving to read his inmost soul. At last he 
 said in low, guttural accents : 
 
 " In the veins of Silverheels courses the blood of 
 the palefaces and the red men ; yet is he an Indian 
 an outcast a Shawnee ! He does not complain 
 the life he leads is to his liking. A Shawnee never 
 forgives an injury nor does he forget a kindness. 
 My white friend, Silverheels shall find a way to re- 
 pay the debt he owes. Where the bright waters of 
 the Bald Eagle mingle with the bright waters of the 
 Moose Eye, stands the lodge of Silverheels. The 
 paddle must dip many times ere he reaches it. I go." 
 
 He turned to depart, but Colonel Sproat detained 
 him by asking : 
 
 " Won't you tell us to what tribe the Indians be- 
 long who made the attack ? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 159 
 
 " Ugh ! Delawares." 
 
 " Whence came they ? " 
 
 " From their village upon the Tuscarawas." 
 
 " Did they come down the Muskingum, in their 
 canoe ? " 
 
 The Shawnee shook his head and replied: 
 
 " They are squaws ! They feared to pass the 
 lodges of the palefaces." 
 
 " They traveled overland, then?" 
 
 " Ugh ! " 
 
 " How came it that you were at hand when they 
 made their attack upon our people ? " 
 
 Silverheels drew himself up until he almost equal- 
 ed Sproat's magnificent height, and answered, dis- 
 dainfully : 
 
 " Big Buckeye, the bald eagle comes and goes at 
 his pleasure, and gives no man a reason for his com- 
 ing or his going. The Shawnee is as proud and free 
 as the fierce bird of prey ! I go." 
 
 He sprang into his canoe thus lending an im- 
 petus to the light vessel that carried it many feet 
 from the shore and entering the mouth of the 
 tributary stream, disappeared in the darkness. 
 
 When Louise St. Clair awoke the next morning, 
 she was aware of something that she did not know 
 before. Her heart was revealed to her, and she 
 knew she loved Paul Gray don. Those awful mo- 
 ments in the canoe had enabled her to see clearly, 
 for at the time her fondest thoughts had been of 
 him.
 
 i6o IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 As she lay blinking at the rising sun that peeped 
 in through her curtained window, she thought of her 
 father's words on the day after Paul's arrival : " An- 
 other has won him ! " A wave of bitter despair 
 swept over the girl's soul, and burying her fair face 
 in the pillows, she moaned : 
 
 " Oh ! Have I learned to love him but to lose 
 him ? Marie loves him yes ; but not as 7 love him 
 no, no! And does he love her? No I'll not 
 have it so! He shall be mine! It isn't just that 
 Marie should have him he isn't of her station in 
 life. I ought to have him and I will have him ! 
 I've never tried to win him ; but I'll do so now." 
 
 She arose and dressed with greater care than she 
 had bestowed upon her toilet for many months. She 
 was dressing for Paul she must please him she 
 must fascinate him. The thought came to her that 
 if she attempted to win his love she should be false 
 to Marie her sincere friend ; and her face flushed. 
 
 " I can't help it if she suffers," she argued with 
 her better self. " Shan't I suffer if he remains true 
 to her ? One of us must suffer ; and must / be the 
 one ? No ! He shall be mine. Love is cruel, merci- 
 less!" 
 
 It was in John Stacey's rather phlegmatic disposi- 
 tion, to accept what seemed to be inevitable, without 
 a word of complaint or a thought of rebellion. He 
 was content to go on worshiping at a distance the 
 object of his adoration, without once attempting to 
 enkindle an answering flame upon the altar. But it
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 161 
 
 was not so with Louise St. Clair. Her passionate 
 nature burst into fire at the magic touch of love a 
 fire that burned away the barrier of maidenly re- 
 serve and threatened the wellsprings of womanly 
 pride and honor. Above all, a fire that in the end 
 would strew the cold, gray ashes of regret and 
 shame upon her head ! 
 
 That afternoon, in conversation with Marie, she 
 asked : 
 
 " Marie, do you love Paul very dearly ? " 
 
 The French girl looked at her friend in mild sur- 
 prise, and answered simply and earnestly: 
 
 " A thousand times better than all else in the 
 world." 
 
 Louise smilingly continued: 
 
 " And you fancy he loves you ? " 
 
 Marie lifted her arched brows, as she replied : 
 
 " Fancy ! 1 know he loves me," 
 
 " As you love him? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Louise laughed a forced little laugh and went on : 
 
 " And you sincerely believe, I suppose, that he's 
 the soul of honor and fidelity, and that he has no eyes 
 for any woman but your own sweet self ? " 
 
 A half sneer curled her lip as she said it. 
 
 Marie did not hesitate, but replied sturdily : 
 
 "Yes; I believe all that." 
 
 Louise cried, laughingly : 
 
 " Don't you know, you unsophisticated darling, 
 that there is no man whose armor is invulnerable 
 11
 
 16.2 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 no man who is unsusceptible to the arts and wiles of 
 beautiful women other than his lady love?" 
 
 " My Paul is an exception," Marie said quietly. 
 
 " You precious baby ! May I prove to you that 
 'your Paul,' as you blindly call him, is no excep- 
 tion?" 
 
 " You cannot prove anything of the kind Louise." 
 
 " Well, have I your permission may I make the 
 attempt?" 
 
 " I care not make the attempt." 
 
 " In any way that pleases me ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you'll not blame me if the result be con- 
 trary to what you expect ? " 
 
 " I'll not blame you." 
 
 " Very well," Louise cried gayly as she capered 
 about the floor, " I shall have the pleasure of prov- 
 ing to you that Mr. Paul Graydon doesn't know his 
 own heart, and that you don't know him. Remem- 
 ber, you are to offer no objection to anything I do." 
 
 " I shall offer no objections." 
 
 " Even though you see him drifting from the safe 
 anchorage of your love " 
 
 " None whatever ! " 
 
 At this point in 'the conversation other members 
 of the St. Clair family came in ; and the subject was 
 dropped. Marie had taken all that her friend had 
 said as good-natured banter, and rather liked the 
 prospect of putting her lover to the test. She de-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 163 
 
 sired to show Louise that Paul was fidelity itself 
 and she desired to enjoy her friend's discomfiture. 
 
 During the next few weeks Louise devoted herself 
 assiduously to the task she had in hand. She dress- 
 ed to please Paul, smiled to encourage him, and gave 
 him to understand that his presence was more than 
 welcome. Not a day passed that she did not meet 
 him, on one pretext or another. Paul was not 
 wholly unconscious of her charms, and her marked 
 attentions flattered him. He was frequently alone 
 with her and enjoyed her keen intellect, her perfect 
 manners and sparkling talk ; and he neglected Ma- 
 rie to such an extent that she was compelled to spend 
 many hours alone. However, his heart remained 
 in the keeping of his first love ; and the trustful little 
 French girl read him aright, and patiently bided her 
 time. 
 
 John Stacey saw the drift of affairs ; and his hon- 
 est soul was indignant at what he considered Paul's 
 perfidy. He resolved to take his friend to task. 
 
 " Paul," he said bluntly, one day when the two 
 were alone in the woods, " I'm not at all pleased with 
 your recent treatment of Marie." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " Gray don asked, in ill- 
 feigned surprise. 
 
 " Your face tells me that you well know what I 
 mean. You're devoting too much time and atten- 
 tion to Louise. Nothing but evil can come of it." 
 
 " Surely you don't believe, John, that I care any-
 
 164 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 thing for Miss St. Clair 1 We are the best of friends 
 
 that's all." 
 
 " The old plea ! " Stacey replied, dubiously shak- 
 ing his head. " She cares entirely too much for you, 
 at any rate. You're treading on dangerous ground. 
 You're carelessly I won't say willfully leading 
 her on. One heart must break in the end hers or 
 Marie's and whosever it proves to be, you'll not 
 be blameless." 
 
 " Do you think Louise loves me ? " Paul asked 
 with some concern. 
 
 "I'm sure she does, Paul ; and you're going to 
 break her heart. Besides, you cannot expect Marie 
 to love and trust you always, if you persist. No 
 woman can endure such treatment long." 
 
 Paul Graydon was shocked and grieved at his 
 friend's words. " I've been blind 1 " he groaned to 
 himself. " A fool ! A knave ! I see and under- 
 stand all now Louise's marked preference for me 
 
 everything! What must Marie think of me? 
 Bah ! I despise myself ! " 
 
 He was silent so long that Stacey knew the leaven 
 of his words was working. Suddenly Paul grasped 
 his friend's hand and cried : 
 
 "John Stacey, I thank you from the bottom of 
 my heart ! How long I should have gone on playing 
 the fool knave had you not come to me in your 
 frank, brotherly way, I don't know. I enjoyed 
 Louise's company ; and I was amusing myself, with 
 no thought of the consequences. Believe me, John,
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 165 
 
 when I say that it was thoughtlessness on my part, 
 and not willful perversity ; and believe me, too, when 
 I promise that you shall have no occasion to chide 
 me again." 
 
 Paul was religiously loyal to his promise. He 
 purposely avoided meeting Louise, and conscien- 
 tiously devoted himself to Marie; and, in conse- 
 quence, did not see the former for several days after 
 his conversation with Stacey. One evening, how- 
 ever, as he was leaving Campus Martius, he met 
 Louise face to face. She was dressed in her green 
 riding habit, with a jaunty velvet cap of the same 
 color surmounting her dark hair. Her face wore 
 an expression of silent suffering. Paul thought 
 he had never seen her look so beautiful. He greeted 
 her kindly and essayed to pass ; but she stopped him 
 with: 
 
 " Why are you so cold and formal, Paul ? " And 
 her ripe lips were trembling like those of a grieved 
 child. 
 
 Paul Graydon saw the work that he had helped 
 to do. He paused and answered gently: 
 
 " I do not wish to appear rude, Louise ; but I'm 
 hastening to fulfill an engagement." 
 
 " I haven't seen you for a week. Can't you spare 
 me a few moments ? " 
 
 " Willingly." And he entered the blockhouse 
 with her. 
 
 "Where have you been all these dreary days?" 
 she asked.
 
 166 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 He felt that she was aiming to let him know she 
 had missed him grievously ; and he .replied briefly : 
 
 " Here and there about the settlement." 
 
 " Why have you avoided me, Paul ? " 
 
 " For the reason that I thought it necessary." 
 
 " Necessary ! " 
 
 " Yes ; Louise, I owe you an explanation. I am 
 betrothed to Marie I love her and intend to 
 marry her as soon as circumstances will permit. 
 For me to devote so much time and attention to you 
 is putting both you and her in an undesirable posi- 
 tion. You and Marie are innocent; I, alone, am 
 guilty. But the usages of society are such that; in 
 the end, you must suffer most of all. Inadvertently 
 I've done you a great injury. I humbly beg your 
 pardon and ask your forgiveness. Do you not see 
 that I'm right in what I've been saying? " 
 
 " Y-e-s, I I see," she replied, slowly and 
 mechanically. In the dusky light of the room, her 
 face looked wan. He resumed: 
 
 " Of course we shall remain the best of friends, # 
 Louise " 
 
 " Of course," she interrupted, in the same im- 
 passive tone. 
 
 " Well, I must be going. Tell me that you fully 
 and freely forgive me for my thoughtless con- 
 duct." 
 
 "I fully and freely forgive you," 
 she repeated mechanically.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 167 
 
 He went out and left her to her own thoughts. 
 For more than an hour she sat like one in a 
 trance. When she arose the flame of her passionate 
 love had gone out ; and naught but blackness and 
 ashes remained !
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 GAME was so scarce in the woods adjacent to the 
 settlement that the most skillful hunters re- 
 turned empty-handed. In dire extremity the people 
 subsisted on corn-bread, early vegetables and 
 " greens." This diet became almost unbearable ; 
 and the hunters pushed farther and farther into the 
 forest in quest of meat. After several unsuccessful 
 expeditions, Graydon and Stacey resolved to pro- 
 cure the much-needed article of food, at all hazard. 
 Their plan was to row far up the Muskingum, hunt 
 all day, and return to the village after nightfall. 
 They talked it over and concluded to ask Isaac 
 Meeks's opinion of the project. 
 
 " You can't more'n fail, anyhow," was the hunter's 
 reply ; " an' I'll go with you. Course ther's some 
 risk right now, in goin' far from the settlements, but 
 I guess we're able to take care of ourselves. Ther's 
 one advantage in our goin ? up the Muskingum 
 we can take a good look at the country up there, an' 
 if things shape theirselves as I think they're a- 
 goin' to, we'll be wantin' to enter lands up there 
 'fore the season's over." 
 
 They started the next morning at three o'clock, to 
 avoid the disagreeable task of rowing in the July 
 (168)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 169 
 
 heat. As they proceeded along the winding stream, 
 the first faint streaks of dawn began to show, and 
 the sylvan solitude echoed with the music of hun- 
 dreds of winged songsters. Long reaches of 
 glassy water black-green in the dusk of dawn, but 
 changing to silver and purple, as the sun's rays 
 glinted its surface glided under the prow of their 
 boat and disappeared in the shadows formed by the 
 overarching branches of sycamore, beech and elm. 
 The sun climbed higher and the day grew brighter 
 and warmer. At eight o'clock they passed the little 
 settlement of Waterford; and two hours later they 
 landed on a wooded bank and secreted their boat in 
 the reeds and willows that skirted the stream. 
 
 Mile after mile they tramped through the oppres- 
 sive heat of the dense forest, encountering no large 
 animals and killing a few squirrels only. As even- 
 ing approached they gave up in disgust and silently 
 returned to their boat. Seating themselves upon 
 the green and shady bank, they talked over their 
 failure. 
 
 " Ther' aint nothin' to do but to go back, I 'spose," 
 Isaac remarked in a musing tone : " an' ther' aint a 
 very bright outlook fer the future. If you can't 
 find game here, where 're you goin' to find it? I'm 
 downright tired o' livin' without meat, an' I can't 
 stand it much longer; my stomach's cleavin' to my 
 backbone this very minute, jest from thinkin' o' 
 what's to come. Confound the In j ins! If it hadn't 
 been fer them killin' and drivin' off the game, we'd
 
 170 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 be livin' on the fat o' the land today. I wish the 
 whole race of 'em was wiped out " 
 
 " Except Silverheels," suggested Stacey, busily 
 engaged in priming his flintlock. 
 
 " Well, he's a halfbreed," Isaac replied, triumph- 
 antly ; " an' it's the white blood in him that makes 
 him half-decent. What d'you think's a-goin' to be- 
 come of us, Mr. Paul ? " 
 
 " Our day's experience is somewhat discourag- 
 ing," Paul admitted ; " but I doubt not we shall find 
 game somewhere. We made a mistake in stopping 
 too near Waterford. We should have gone farther 
 up the river. I was going to suggest that we camp 
 here tonight, and that, on the morrow, we move up 
 the stream " 
 
 He broke off suddenly ; and the three men leaped 
 to their feet, gripping their guns. 
 
 " I heard a rifle shot ! " Paul said decidedly. The 
 others nodded. 
 
 A crashing sound as of some large body forcing 
 its way through the bushes a few rods down the 
 stream, was borne to their ears. 
 
 " It's some animal," Stacey said, in a low tone ; 
 " and it's making toward the water." 
 
 " No it ain't here it comes ! Watch out ! " 
 Isaac replied in the same intense undertone. 
 
 Graydon's rifle spoke, as a shaggy head parted 
 the bushes and a pair of fiery eyes met his own. 
 It was a large black bear. The ball from 
 Paul's gun took effect in the beast's shoulder ; and,
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 171 
 
 with a savage growl of rage and pain, it advanced 
 swiftly upon the trio. Paul sprang backward to 
 avoid the angry animal and to give his friends a 
 chance to fire, but tripped and fell ; and the bear was 
 upon him. 
 
 " Shoot, John, shoot ! " he cried, as he attempted 
 to roll out of reach of the black mass. Stacey's 
 and Meeks's rifles cracked simultaneously, and one 
 of the bullets found the bear's heart. The great 
 beast fell dead just as it had thrown itself upon the 
 prostrate man. 
 
 Graydon's friends dragged him from beneath the 
 carcass, and were delighted to find that, with the ex- 
 ception of a few scratches, he was unhurt. 
 
 " That was a purty close shave, an' nobody to 
 blame," Isaac remarked, as he began to reload his 
 rifle. " If it hadn't been fer that beech root you'd 
 'ave been all right, Mr. Paul. Good thing you 
 wasn't alone 'r that shot o' yours 'Id 'ave cost 
 you y'r life. You was in such a big hurry to 'ave 
 the first chance that you shot too high. You can't 
 kill a bear by shootin' him in the shoulder ! " 
 
 " I am aware of that," Paul answered tartly as he 
 examined his injured shoulder. " I aimed hastily 
 and missed a vital spot." - And picking up his gun 
 he began to reload it. 
 
 " Well, it seems that when we can't find game, it 
 walks right up to us to be killed," Isaac laughed, as 
 he threw down his loaded rifle and, whipping out 
 his hunting knife, prepared to skin their prize.
 
 172 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Hold a moment ! " Stacey cried, as the hunter 
 stooped over the carcass. " Somebody fired at this 
 animal just before we saw it." 
 
 " That's so," Meeks said reflectively, as he 
 dropped on his knees, knife in hand, and commenced 
 a hasty examination of the carcass. Of a sudden 
 he exclaimed : 
 
 " Here's his mark, as sure 's shootin' ! Right in 
 the flank ; an' the bear's been goin' from him at the 
 time. It must 'ave been a long shot. Well, I'll git 
 this skin off in a jiffy, an' we'll load up the pirogue 
 an' start f er home it's sundown now." 
 
 " Yes," Paul remarked, " if we are going home 
 tonight, let's hasten. An Indian may have fired that 
 shot, and we may be surrounded at this moment." 
 
 His friends were startled and apprehensively 
 glanced around. Then Isaac laughed reassuringly 
 and said : 
 
 " Nonsense, Mr. Paul ! I don't s'pose there's an 
 Injin in twenty miles o' here. Here, Stacey, help 
 me jerk off this skin; an' we'll soon 'ave the car- 
 cass cut up an' be ready to start." 
 
 " But who fired that shot ? " Graydon persisted. 
 
 " A Shawnee ! " replied a deep bass voice. And 
 an Indian stepped into the open space and stood be- 
 fore them. The three men gazed upon him in 
 speechless amazement. At last Paul found his 
 tongue and ejaculated: 
 
 " Silverheels ! "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 173 
 
 " Ugh ! " was the guttural response ; and the red 
 hunter seated himself upon the ground. 
 
 " The Shawnee," Paul continued, indulging in 
 the Indian's peculiar idiom, " like a dusky spirit, 
 flits here and there. His footfalls give forth no 
 sound, and his body casts no shadow. His white 
 friends were not aware of his presence until he 
 spoke. Will he not tell them of himself? " 
 
 " Is it not enough," Silverheels replied with quiet 
 dignity, " that, when the white hunters were return- 
 ing empty handed to their people, the Shawnee drove 
 a bear toward them, that they might feast on the 
 morrow?" 
 
 " How did you know we were here and above 
 all, how did you know that our hunt had proven 
 unfruitful ? " Graydon asked in unfeigned surprise. 
 
 " My white friends traversed many weary miles in 
 quest of game and found nothing. Then they re- 
 turned to their boat, disheartened. At no time was 
 the Shawnee far from them." 
 
 " Say ! " Isaac cried suddenly, " Can't you guide 
 us to a place where there's game to be found ? " 
 
 The Indian remained as stolidly impassive as a 
 graven image. He was silently expressing his dis- 
 like for the old hunter. Stacey and Graydon saw 
 and understood this ; and slyly smiled at each other. 
 Then Stacey addressed Silverheels : 
 
 " You've been our friend in the past ; you are our 
 friend today. Our women and children cry for
 
 174 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 meat. Will you not show us where it may be 
 found ? " 
 
 Not a word from the graven image ! 
 
 " Silverheels," Paul asked sharply, " are you my 
 friend ? " 
 
 The bronze head nodded slightly. 
 
 " For my sake and for the sake of those I hold 
 dear won't you help us to procure meat for our 
 hungry people ? " 
 
 The three whites anxiously awaited the red man's 
 reply. For fully a minute he maintained a rigid si- 
 lence. Evidently he was pondering over the deadly 
 wrongs that had been heaped upon his race and him- 
 self. The savage blood in him called loudly for re- 
 venge. True, he had befriended the whites ; but it 
 was one thing to save their lives by fighting in their 
 defense especially when that defense gave him an 
 opportunity to wreak revenge upon his enemies, 
 the Delawares and quite another thing to serve 
 them in the capacity of guide. His proud spirit re- 
 volted but he loved Paul Graydon with all the 
 strength of his fierce nature. Why, he did not know 
 but he loved him. His great love for the young 
 Englishman overcame his great hatred for the white 
 race, quenched his temporary thirst for revenge, and 
 swept aside his baser instincts. He was conquered. 
 Rising to his feet he said quietly almost sadly : 
 
 " Silverheels will do what his white brother de- 
 sires. The palefaces want meat meat they shall
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 175 
 
 have. The Shawnee will be their dog and lead them 
 to the game ! " 
 
 This last sentence he uttered with bowed head 
 and dejected mien. Then, turning to Paul and 
 speaking in the first person, he continued: 
 
 " Here is my hand. I pledge you my lasting 
 friendship. Henceforth you are my brother, and I 
 shall call you White Eagle. Your friends shall be 
 my friends, through all the seasons that come and 
 go. I know a place where feeds a herd of deer that 
 have never seen a white man's face nor heard the 
 crack of his rifle. Come with me to my lodge on 
 the Bald Eagle ; and tomorrow I will load your boat 
 with meat." 
 
 He stepped in front of John and Isaac, saying : 
 
 " You are White Eagle's friends, therefore you 
 are my friends." 
 
 He shook their extended hands, and again turn- 
 ing to Paul, concluded : 
 
 " My brother, let us be moving. The sun has hid 
 his face behind the hills ; and the lodge of the Shaw- 
 nee is many canoe-lengths up the Moose Eye. 
 Come." 
 
 " Let's take some o' this bear meat with us," 
 Isaac suggested ; " it's a shame to waste it an' 
 we'll be wantin' it fer supper." 
 
 He and Stacey removed the skin from the dead 
 animal and cut off the most desirable parts of the 
 carcass. They could not take the entire body, for
 
 176 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 it would spoil before they returned to the settle- 
 ment. 
 
 It was two hours after sunset when they reached 
 Silverheels' lodge upon the western bank of the 
 Muskingum, a few yards above tbe mouth of Bald 
 Eagle Creek. At the present time, the thriving vil- 
 lage of Stockport is situated just below the mouth 
 of the creek, and the iron horse thunders over the 
 identical spot where stood the habitation of the red 
 hunter. The rude hut of poles was completely hid- 
 den by trees and bushes that surrounded it. As it 
 was not visible from the river, its owner had little 
 fear of an attack from predatory bands of Delawares 
 or Wyandots, who at times descended the stream. 
 The Muskingum, at this point, broke into a series of 
 gentle rapids or ripples ; and to this day the place is 
 called " Silverheels' Riffle." After a hearty supper 
 of broiled bear steak, the hunters lay down to sleep. 
 Some time during the night, it rained; and when 
 they awoke the air was clear and cool. At sunrise, 
 they shouldered their guns and proceeded up the 
 creek valley for nearly a mile, when they came to a 
 smaller depression between the hills, leading off to 
 the west. A half mile up the narrow dale, they en- 
 countered the herd, quietly feeding upon the tender 
 herbage. They stalked the beautiful animals, and, at 
 the first fire, succeeded in killing two bucks and a 
 doe. The herd started, but Silverheels dropped an- 
 other fine buck before they were out of range. The 
 hunters already had as much as their pirogue could
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 177 
 
 carry and, after several hours of arduous toil, the 
 four men bearing their trophies, again found them- 
 selves at the mouth of Bald Eagle Creek. Here 
 they ate their midday meal ; and at three o'clock be- 
 gan their homeward voyage. 
 
 Each of the whites thanked Silverheels for the 
 invaluable service he had rendered, and, taking their 
 places in the pirogue, they bade him farewell and 
 pulled away down the river. The Indian shaded his 
 eyes from the rays of the declining sun and watched 
 the boat until it had turned the bend of the river. 
 Then, as though impelled by some irresistible power, 
 he sprang into his canoe and paddled swiftly in pur- 
 suit of his white friends. 
 
 Isaac was the first to notice the Shawnee's ap- 
 proach. 
 
 " By Jeems Rivers ! " he exclaimed, lifting his 
 oars from the water and resting his arms upon them. 
 " There comes that Injin a-paddlin' after us. If he 
 don't beat all creation, then my name ain't Isaac 
 Meeks ! " 
 
 Silverheels easily overtook them. He offered no 
 word in explanation of his conduct; and the colo- 
 nists asked for none. When he was two miles 
 below the mouth of Bald Eagle Creek, he ceased 
 paddling and waited for the others to overtake him. 
 Then it was that he spoke for the first time. 
 
 " If my white friends want homes, why do they 
 not build their lodges here ? " And he pointed to 
 the wooded bank upon their left. 
 12
 
 i;8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Is it a good place ? " Paul inquired, somewhat 
 amused at the red man's question, yet pleased at his 
 interest in their affairs. 
 
 " Ugh ! " was the guttural rejoinder. 
 
 " I see the timber grows mighty thick an' heavy 
 on the bottom there," Meeks commented ; " an' that 
 shows a rich soil. I wouldn't wonder it was a first- 
 rate place fer a settlement." 
 
 " Paul, ask your red brother the extent of this 
 level bottom-land," Stacey requested. 
 
 Graydon put the question to Silverheels and re- 
 ceived in reply : " Very wide very long very 
 big trees." 
 
 They resumed their journey, talking over the 
 Shawnee's suggestion. At dusk they reached the 
 settlement of Waterford. As they were passing the 
 twinkling lights upon the bank, a voice from the 
 shadows hailed them, with : 
 
 " Hello ! John Stacey, is that you and your 
 party ? " 
 
 " Yes," Stacey hallooed in return. 
 
 " Well, you've made your folks uneasy by your 
 absence over night. A boatload of men was up here 
 looking for you this afternoon. They left for home 
 about an hour ago. You'll probably overtake them, 
 for they'll go slow, hoping to see or hear something 
 of you. Good-night ! " 
 
 Two hours after passing Waterford our friends 
 came up with the party.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 IT was the morning after the return of the hunting 
 expedition and it was the morning of the 
 Fourth of July. The sky was cloudless; and the 
 heat, excessive. Not a breath of air rippled the face 
 of the shimmering water. The corn blades were half 
 wilted and the leaves of the forest trees hung pen- 
 dulous and lifeless. Heat waves danced upward 
 from the clearings. All nature seemed in a coma- 
 tose state with man the only disturbing element. 
 
 It was a gala day at Marietta ; and the inhabitants 
 were out in holiday attire. Two other hunting par- 
 ties had returned, laden with game; and the fisher- 
 men had made the most successful catch of the sea- 
 son. For the first time in months, the people had 
 an abundance of food; and they purposed to cele- 
 brate the natal day of their country with feasting 
 and rejoicing. Uneasiness over the prolonged ab- 
 sence of Paul and his comrades had given place to 
 exuberant joy over their success and safe return. 
 
 By eight o'clock, the whole settlement was abroad 
 and astir. Barking dogs and laughing children ran 
 here, there and everywhere. Boating parties dotted 
 the rivers. The soldiers from Fort Harmer, clad 
 in gaudy but faded continental uniforms, stalked 
 
 (179)
 
 i8o IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 about. Governor St. Clair and other dignitaries, 
 gorgeous with lace and brass buttons, mingled with 
 the people and nodded and smiled to one and all. 
 Winsome maids and waddling matrons crossed and 
 recrossed one another's paths, the bright dresses and 
 garish ribbons of the girls contrasting with the 
 sober-hued gowns of their elders. And the varie- 
 gated dress of the men of the colony ! What con- 
 trasts ! Anything and everything to suit the purse 
 and taste of the wearer! Nut-brown linsey-wool- 
 sey, yellow tow-linen, fringed and ornamented buck- 
 skin ! Cocked hats and coonskin caps ! Cowhide 
 boots and beaded moccasins 1 
 
 At ten o'clock services of semi-religious character 
 were held under a canopy of green boughs, erected 
 upon the bank of the Muskingum. Rev. Daniel 
 Story invoked God's blessing. Governor St. Clair, 
 General Rufus Putnam, Colonel Return Jonathan 
 Meigs and others told of the struggles, privations 
 and hardships through which the settlers had come, 
 and predicted the future greatness of the Northwest 
 Territory. These speeches were received with vo- 
 ciferous enthusiasm enthusiasm that, as one 
 speaker followed another, bordered on frenzy, for 
 patriotism was on tap, and on tap, also, was a certain 
 drink calculated to bring forth the plaudits of a 
 crowd. This drink was spirituous, but not spiritual ; 
 and the brawny backwoodsmen were becoming 
 warm inside as well as outside. Even the gov- 
 ernor's face was rosier than its wont ; and the minis-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 181 
 
 ter's breath had the fruity smell of old peach- 
 brandy ! 
 
 At twelve, the meeting adjourned for dinner. 
 Paul and Gumbo sat down with the family of their 
 old friend, Isaac Meeks. Marie was spending the 
 day with Louise, whose youngest sister was ill. 
 Perhaps it was as well the young woman was not 
 present. Her sensibilities might have been shocked, 
 for Isaac the sedate and upright Isaac was in- 
 clined to an excessive volubility that brought down 
 upon his devoted head Nancy's quick and vigorous 
 condemnation. Poor man ! He was not at all to 
 blame; his glibness of tongue was due to draughts 
 of patriotism patriotism and peach-brandy. 
 
 Dinner over, the villagers reassembled for the 
 games and sports that were common to the time. 
 Chief among these were wrestling, boxing, foot-rac- 
 ing, shooting at a mark, jumping, and dancing. 
 Under the branches of a spreading elm, the flying 
 feet of the young people, keeping time to a whistled 
 tune, played havoc with velvet grass and midsum- 
 mer flowers. Uncle Sam Mitchell, an old sailor 
 from the garrison, furnished the flute-like strains to 
 which the lithe and nimble youngsters tripped. The 
 old man sat upon a stump at one side, his leathern 
 face puckered into a grimace that lent an additional 
 zest to the enjoyable pastime, and tapped his foot 
 and bobbed his head to the rhythm of his own music. 
 
 " Marse Paul, why doesn't you jump in dar an' 
 show dem folks how to dance de ol' Virginny
 
 i82 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Reel ? " cried Gumbo, his face shining with anima- 
 tion. 
 
 " They seem to be enjoying themselves very well," 
 Paul replied quietly, " and I don't care to make my- 
 self conspicuous." 
 
 " But dey's dancin' dem new fangled quadrillions 
 an' " 
 
 " You mean cotillions, Gumbo." 
 
 " Dat's w'at I said an' I doesn't like dem. De 
 ol-' Virginny Reel's better dan any hifalutin codrill 
 in de worl'. Doesn't you mean to dance, Marse 
 Paul?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I wish to retain my steadiness of nerve, for the 
 shooting match that's to come off soon," answered 
 Graydon, a queer smile playing around his lips. 
 
 Gumbo winked knowingly and haw-hawed. 
 
 " I understands all dat I does ! You'd be out 
 dar dancin' like de ol' Nick, if de purty little gal was 
 heah. You can't fool dis nigger, Marse Paul ! Ki 
 yi! Dar she comes her an' de gov'nor's gal. 
 Now we'll see now we'll see ! " 
 
 Marie and Louise approached, and Paul stepped 
 forward to greet them. It was the first time he and 
 the governor's daughter had met since their conver- 
 sation at the blockhouse ; and he was a little embar- 
 rassed. However, he extended a hand to each and 
 greeted them cordially. Then he asked : 
 
 " Louise, how is your sister ? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 183 
 
 " She appears a little brighter this afternoon. 
 We left her in care of Mrs. Tupper and came out for 
 a breath of fresh air. Marie is very good to me, 
 Paul ; I don't know what I should do without her. 
 My mother 's not here, you know. Let's be going, 
 Marie ; we shall have to return to the house soon." 
 
 Her manner was one of quiet dignity, betraying 
 neither shame nor confusion. Gray don was agree- 
 ably surprised. Had she forgotten him so readily? 
 Then she had not loved him as Stacey had thought. 
 And Paul was glad to know his friend had been mis- 
 taken. He knew nothing of the fiery furnace 
 through which she had gone. 
 
 He watched the two young women until, arm-in- 
 arm, they disappeared. Then he sauntered to the 
 field where the men were indulging in wrestling, 
 boxing, and foot-racing. Peals of boisterous laugh- 
 ter greeted his ears as he drew near ; and he knew 
 instinctively that some ludicrous horse-play was in 
 progress. 
 
 " Go in, Parson go in, Parson ! Down to it, 
 Colonel hurry up, Colonel ! Whoopee whoop- 
 ee hurrah ! Whee-e-e ! " 
 
 At the sound, Paul quickened his steps, and in a 
 moment reached a point where he had a fair view of 
 the field. A scene met his gaze that caused him to 
 fling his hat in air and laugh until the tears ran 
 down his cheeks and his throat and jaws ached. 
 Rev. Daniel Story was running a foot-race with 
 Colonel Meigs ! The colonel was handicapped by
 
 184 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 having a ten-year-old boy upon his back. The 
 course was a two hundred yards dash to a goal and 
 an immediate return. 
 
 " Here they come ! Look at the parson he's 
 got the lead ! It's the parson's race ! Hurrah for 
 Story three cheers for the parson ! Hip hip 
 hurrah ! " 
 
 The three cheers for the minister were given 
 with a will, and the colonel was treated to a fine ex- 
 hibition of mock scorn. 
 
 " Dat's one time de angel ob light outrun de debil 
 ob darkness ! " Gumbo shouted ; and again the hi- 
 larity broke forth. 
 
 Paul noticed a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular 
 man standing apart from the group that encircled 
 the victor and vanquished. The stranger was 
 dressed in a full suit of fringed and beaded buck- 
 skin ; and a coonskin cap, with the tail of the animal 
 attached, surmounted the shock of coarse red hair 
 that fell in uncombed masses upon his shoulders. 
 At his side hung bullet-pouch and powder-horn 
 the latter carved in fanciful designs and resting 
 across the hollow of his left arm was a fine silver- 
 mounted rifle. His face was smooth, square- jawed 
 and sensual ; and he appeared to be about thirty-five 
 years old. 
 
 " Who is that man? " Paul asked of John Stacey. 
 
 " What man ? " was the quick reply. 
 
 Paul pointed to the red-haired stranger. 
 
 " Oh ! " And Stacey caught his breath sharply.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 185 
 
 "I didn't know he was here. That's Red Wal- 
 lace." 
 
 " And who's Red Wallace, pray ? " 
 
 " In telling you his name, I've told you all I 
 know of him," John replied soberly. " He says he's 
 a fur-trader among the Indians ; but I doubt his 
 word I don't know why. In some way the report 
 has become current here that he's an outlaw a 
 renegade, and that he has figured in more than one 
 Indian massacre." 
 
 " He has an evil face, John. How often has he 
 visited the settlement?" 
 
 " I think this is the fourth time. He stays but a 
 few hours, and leaves in the night. No one knows 
 whence he comes or whither he goes." 
 
 " I dislike his looks," Paul mused. " There's 
 something about him that repels one. But yonder 
 comes Silverheels ! Where has that Shawnee been? 
 This is a strange country, and many are the odd 
 characters one meets. Hello! what is your Red 
 Wallace doing now ? " 
 
 The stranger had thrown down his rifle and di- 
 vested himself of cap and hunting shirt. Now he 
 spat upon his hands, and, jumping upward and 
 cracking his heels together, bellowed : 
 
 " Maybe some o' you fellows are pretty good men, 
 but I can throw down and drag out any man in the 
 settlement! Don't stand there and gawk! If 
 there's any o' you wants to be put on his back, just 
 step out here ! "
 
 186 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " A challenge ! " laughed Paul. Stacey grinned 
 and nodded. To right and to left of the two 
 friends, men stood conversing in low, earnest tones, 
 and glancing askance at Wallace. The breezy mur- 
 mur of many voices swelled louder. 
 
 " For the credit of the colony, someone ought to 
 accept that challenge," General Rufus Putnam said 
 in a low tone. " Were I a little younger, I shouldn't 
 hesitate to meet him myself." 
 
 Again Red Wallace cried : 
 
 " All afraid, are you ? Come on I won't more 
 than break your bones ! I didn't think I could scare 
 you out so easily. Won't somebody try me just one 
 fall? You've got a doctor here he'll set your 
 bones ! Come on. I'll challenge any two of you 
 pretty soon ! " 
 
 " I can't stand this ! " General Putnam muttered 
 testily. " Where's Sproat ? Somebody must wres- 
 tle that man. It'll never do to have it said he backed 
 down every man in the colony ! " 
 
 Paul turned to the general and said quietly : 
 
 " I believe, general, that I can throw him ; but I 
 expect to take part in the shooting-match, and I 
 don't care to excite my nerves. However, I know 
 a man who can put the defiant blackguard on his 
 back, in less time than it takes me to tell you." 
 
 " Who who ? " inquired General Putnam, ea- 
 gerly. 
 
 " Gumbo." 
 
 "The black?"
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 187 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " He was here a moment ago." 
 
 Just then the darky .came running up to Paul, his 
 black face shining with sweat and excitement. 
 
 " Marse Paul," he cried, " Fs gwine to wrassel dat 
 rambumpsherous braggard out dar ! " 
 
 " Do you think you are his match, Gumbo? " Paul 
 asked, smiling. 
 
 " 'Deed I is, Marse Paul ! " 
 
 " Very well go ; but be careful that he doesn't 
 attempt to injure you. You'll find him tricky and 
 treacherous." 
 
 A lusty cheer went up from the settlers as Gumbo 
 stepped forth and accepted the challenge. As it 
 died out, Red Wallace said sneeringly : 
 
 ' That's right send out a nigger ! Bah ! 
 Every white man in the settlement's afraid. Well, I 
 don't object. Come on, nigger. How do you want 
 to wrestle ? " 
 
 " Any ways / doesn't keer," replied Gumbo, 
 grinning broadly. 
 
 " Oh, you doesn't keer, doesn't you ! " Wallace 
 mimicked. " Well, let it be catch-as-catch-can, best 
 two out of three." 
 
 " Dat suits dis nigger fir' strate ! " the black 
 chuckled. 
 
 In those days a wrestling-match was a rough-and- 
 tumble affair, without rules or referees. Nothing
 
 i88 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 but a sense of honor restrained the participants from 
 doing bodily injury. 
 
 As Gumbo and Wallace faced each other and 
 stood awaiting- the drop of the hat, their physical 
 differences became apparent. Wallace had the ad- 
 vantage in weight and breadth of shoulders ; the 
 black, in depth of chest and stockiness of build. 
 Both were active, athletic men. Wallace was a full 
 half head taller than the darky but that fact did 
 not redound to his advantage. The general opinion 
 was that the two were very evenly matched. 
 
 A ring of eager men surrounded the contestants. 
 Every voice was stilled as General Tupper ad- 
 vanced, hat in hand, and took a position at one side. 
 
 " One two three ! " he shouted. The hat 
 dropped to the ground ; and like hounds loosed from 
 the leash, the two men sprang forward. In the 
 clinch Gumbo succeeded in getting the under hold. 
 Around and around they whirled, each making vio- 
 lent efforts to fling the other off his feet. Red Wal- 
 lace leaned over the stooped form of the black, lock- 
 ing his hands over the darky's back, and attempted 
 to press him to earth. It could not be done. Then 
 he loosed his hold, caught Gumbo by the shoulders, 
 and, suddenly springing backward, sought to jerk 
 the negro prone. He failed and Gumbo's oppor- 
 tunity was at hand. Ere the white man could re- 
 cover his poise and tighten his grip, the black lifted 
 him bodily, and, throwing a leg behind him, pressed 
 him to grass. Gumbo had won the first fall.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 189 
 
 What a series of shouts and cheers went up from 
 the settlers ! The negro sprang to his feet, and Red 
 Wallace quickly resumed an upright position a 
 scowl of malignant anger upon his ruddy face. 
 
 " I'll break every bone in your body this time, you 
 black imp ! " he howled. 
 
 The crowd jeered and mocked the angry man, and 
 Gumbo returned laughingly : 
 
 " Dat's all right dis nigger can take keer ob his- 
 se'f. I's gwine to gib you a. shakin' up dis time 
 dat'll warm de wax in yo' ears ! Is you all ready ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " cried Wallace with an oath. 
 
 Again the hat dropped and again they came to- 
 gether. The second round was shorter than the 
 first. Gumbo had learned his antagonist's weak 
 points, and wasted no time in getting the hold he de- 
 sired. He chose a left-side underhold with his 
 strong right arm around Wallace's waist. The latter 
 felt the black lifting him from his feet, and vainly 
 struggled to break away. Little by little, Gumbo 
 edged under his opponent, until he had him upon 
 the hip. Wallace knew what was coming, and 
 clawed and scratched to free himself from the 
 darky's vise-like embrace. Quickly stooping and 
 at the same time loosing his hold the black man 
 shot the other over his head, like a stone from a cata- 
 pult. Wallace fell like a log; and the second and 
 last round was Gumbo's. 
 
 The colonists cheered more wildly than before, 
 and flung taunts innumerable at the vanquished
 
 190 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 braggart, who was beside himself with rage and 
 mortification. Leaping to his feet, he dashed at the 
 negro, with a string of expletives, bawling : 
 
 " No nigger shall beat me in a wrestle. It was a 
 trick it wasn't fair ! Here ! don't be leaving ; I'm 
 going to throw you, you black scoundrel, if it takes 
 all the afternoon ! " 
 
 Gumbo was not loath to give Wallace entire satis- 
 faction ; but Paul stepped forward and said authori- 
 tatively : 
 
 " You have done enough. Come." 
 
 " Who're you?" demanded Wallace, advancing 
 threateningly. 
 
 " Paul Graydon of Virginia, at your service." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Paul Graydon, let me tell you you're 
 interfering in what's none of your business ! If I 
 want to wrestle the nigger, I'll wrestle him in spite 
 of you or anybody else. Do you hear me ? " 
 
 " I hear," Paul replied, with unruffled composure. 
 
 " Well, what have you got to say ? " cried Red 
 Wallace. 
 
 " That Gumbo shall not wrestle with you again." 
 
 " Look here, stripling ! " the other thundered. 
 "If you don't shut your mouth and get out of here, 
 I'll thrash you within an inch of your life." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 The word was hissed through Paul's set teeth. 
 His English pugnacity was aroused. Throwing off 
 his coat and squarely facing the fellow, he con- 
 tinued :
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 191 
 
 "If nothing but a pummeling will silence your 
 boastful tongue, a pummeling you shall have ! " 
 
 Then to his friends : " Out of the way, men 
 give us room ! " 
 
 The settlers surged backward. Their voices 
 swelled into one mighty cheer for Graydon. Then 
 the hush of expectancy fell upon them. 
 
 With a howl like a frenzied beast, Red Wallace 
 jumped at the throat of his lithe but muscular ad- 
 versary. He thought to bear Graydon to earth, and 
 have him at his mercy. But he reckoned without 
 his host. Springing lightly to one side, Paul dealt 
 the ruffian a blow on the side of the jaw that sent 
 him to the grass. Wallace's face was purple with 
 baffled rage and his lips were dripping foam, as he 
 arose and rushed on Paul again. Graydon repeated 
 his tactics to such purpose that the bully received a 
 blow in the neck which dropped him in a heap upon 
 the ground. His eyelids quivered and dropped ; his 
 limbs twitched and were still. Red Wallace was 
 unconscious. 
 
 The settlers raised Paul upon their shoulders and 
 paraded up and down in front of the prostrate man, 
 cheering ; and, in derision, called upon him to renew 
 the fight. But Wallace was oblivious. 
 
 Some one brought a pail of water and threw upon 
 him. Presently he stirred uneasily, put his hand to 
 his forehead abstractedly, and sat up. Struggling- 
 to his feet, he cast a look of malignant hate upon 
 Paul Graydon.
 
 192 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " You'll pay for this ! " he muttered ; and slunk 
 away. 
 
 " I admire much your courage and skill, my 
 young friend, but I fear you have called up a jinnee 
 that will be hard to down," said Governor St. 
 Clair, as he laid his hand caressingly upon Paul's 
 shoulder. " If I read that man aright, he's a scoun- 
 drel and will never rest until he's revenged." 
 
 Graydon was as unruffled as before the encounter, 
 as he replied: 
 
 " I don't fear him. I've vanquished him once ; I 
 can do it again." 
 
 " I don't mean that he will openly attack you. 
 That isn't his method of attack. He's more likely 
 to employ subterfuge and treachery, to wreak his 
 vengeance. Have a care for him." 
 
 Here Stacey plucked Paul's sleeve and said in an 
 undertone : " When you're through talking to the 
 governor, come down to the Point. The men are 
 ready to begin shooting." 
 
 As the governor walked away in the direction of 
 Campus Martius, the two friends turned their steps 
 toward the Point. As they drew near, Gumbo 
 came running toward them. 
 
 " Hurry up, Marse Paul an' Marse John ! " he 
 cried breathlessly. " Dey's done gone shot free J r 
 four times, a' ready." 
 
 " Who are the contestants ? " Stacey inquired. 
 
 Gumbo rolled his eyes and pulled his kinky wool, 
 in perplexity. He did not know the meaning of the
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 193 
 
 word, and he desired to conceal his ignorance ; there- 
 fore he kept silent. 
 
 " Who are the contestants the participants ? " 
 Stacey repeated. 
 
 " Does you mean who's doin' de shootin', Marse 
 John, w'en you says p'rtissypants ? " 
 
 " Yes, who are the marksmen? " 
 
 " Oh ! " And the darky grinned more broadly 
 than before "some ob de sojers from Fort Har- 
 mer " 
 
 " Are they using their smooth-bore guns ? " Paul 
 interrupted. 
 
 " Yes, Marse Paul." 
 
 " They have no chance," Gray don remarked to 
 Stacey ; " smooth-bore guns are inaccurate. The 
 soldiers are foolish to enter a contest with the rifle- 
 men." 
 
 Then to Gumbo: "Go on name the others." 
 
 The black spread the pudgy fingers of his left 
 hand, and, with the index finger of his right, touched 
 the outspread digits in turn, as he named the crack- 
 shots of the settlement. He concluded with : " An' 
 Isaac, an' dat Silberheels." 
 
 The target was a piece of white paper six inches 
 square and having a black center two inches in dia- 
 meter. It was fastened to the smooth trunk of a 
 sycamore one hundred yards from the marksmen. 
 
 " That's one of the soldiers," Stacey whispered to 
 his companion. 
 
 Graydon nodded, but kept his eyes fixed upon the 
 13
 
 194 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 target. The soldier's gun cracked and the bullet 
 sped upon its course. 
 
 " One inch to the right of the paper ! " shouted 
 the marker. 
 
 Shouts of derisive laughter greeted the words ; 
 and, sulkily shouldering his piece, the soldier retired. 
 Others followed, the marker announcing the result 
 of each man's shot. A sensation was created as 
 Isaac lowered his rifle and stepped from the line. 
 The marker cried exultingly : 
 
 " Best shot yet ! One-half inch from the center 
 directly underneath. Beats the Shawnee's shot 
 by a fourth of an inch." 
 
 Ripples of applause ran through the group. It 
 was Stacey's turn. Stepping to the line he took 
 quick aim and fired. 
 
 " A tie ! " the marker shouted, " To the left of the 
 center." 
 
 " Who does he tie ? " asked a voice. 
 
 " Meeks," was the laconic rejoinder. 
 
 The ripples of applause swelled to tiny waves that 
 died out suddenly, as Paul toed the line, and, fling- 
 ing his rifle to his shoulder, pulled the trigger. 
 
 " One-fourth inch over the center ! Best shot 
 yet!" 
 
 The tiny waves of applause grew to billows. 
 
 " It's the Indian's turn the Shawnee's the last 
 man. Out of the way and let Silverheels shoot ! " 
 
 A dozen men were shouting themselves hoarse; 
 but the redman did not take his place.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR IQ5 
 
 " Are you not going to shoot ? " Gray don asked 
 him. 
 
 The savage shook his head. 
 
 "May I ask why?" 
 
 Silverheels did not deign to reply. 
 
 " Who won the other round ? " Paul inquired of a 
 man standing near. 
 
 " The Indian." 
 
 Again turning to his red brother, Graydon said 
 in a half-provoked tone: 
 
 " I insist that you shoot I shall feel hurt if you 
 do not do as I request." 
 
 Without a word, Silverheels sprang to the line, 
 and, with lightning rapidity, aimed his rifle and 
 fired. 
 
 " Just in the edge of the black two inches from 
 the center ! Graydon's round." 
 
 Paul felt certain Silverheels had shot at random, 
 almost had made a poor shot purposely. The 
 Indian would not beat his white brother. The bil- 
 lows of applause rose to the height of tidal waves. 
 
 Colonel Sproat cried : 
 
 " Meeks and Stacey have tied. Let them shoot 
 again to decide who 's the better marksman." 
 
 " We ain't a-goin' to shoot no more," Isaac an- 
 swered ; " we're even an' we're satisfied. Silver- 
 heels won a round an' Mr. Paul won a round; let 
 them shoot to see who's the best shot in the settle- 
 ment. Either of 'em can beat me an' John, if they 
 try the'r best."
 
 196 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 This suggestion met with the approbation of all 
 but the two men themselves. At last, however, they 
 yielded to persuasion and prepared for the final 
 trial. 
 
 Paul stepped up to the Shawnee and said very 
 earnestly : " Silverheels, you are my red brother. 
 If you beat me in this contest, I shall be pleased. I'll 
 shoot first. Will you do your best to beat me? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " And the redman nodded vigorously. 
 
 " You'll not throw away your chance? " 
 
 A half grieved, half amused look crept over the 
 Indian's features, as he replied : " White Eagle, 
 you have my promise ; is it not enough ? " 
 
 " Yes," Paul answered, and toed the line. A new 
 target had been substituted for the perforated one. 
 The young man took quick but careful aim and fired. 
 As the smoke cleared from before his face he heard 
 the marker announce : 
 
 "Nicked the center ! It may be tied; but it won't 
 be beat!" 
 
 As though doubting the truth of the announce- 
 ment, the Shawnee deliberately walked out to the 
 mark and inspected it closely. Then, keeping his 
 eyes fixed steadily upon it, he backed slowly toward 
 the line. 
 
 " Well, of all things ! " was the comment of Isaac. 
 
 "What's his object?" was the question upper- 
 most in everybody's mind. 
 
 " Look at dat Silberheels ! " Gumbo chuckled. 
 " Guess de Injun debit's done gone crazy dis time.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 197 
 
 Ki-yi ! He can't done beat dat shot o' Marse Paul's, 
 nohow." 
 
 Silverheels reached the line, threw his rifle to his 
 shoulder, and took deliberate aim. The gun cracked. 
 Silently the spectators awaited the marker's words. 
 
 " Missed the whole tree ! " was the astounding re- 
 port of that individual. 
 
 " You're mistaken look again ! " were the cries 
 that went up on all sides. 
 
 The semblance of a smile played around the 
 Shawnee's firm mouth. Paul dashed toward the 
 target to investigate for himself. After a brief ex- 
 amination, he cried : 
 
 " He has tied me ; and, in so doing, has proven 
 himself the best marksman in the Northwest Ter- 
 ritory. He aimed not at the mark, but at the hole 
 made by my ball. His bullet has passed through 
 the opening, without enlarging it. Three cheers, 
 men three cheers for Silverheels, the crack-shot 
 of the two valleys ! " 
 
 Three loud and prolonged cheers split the sultry 
 atmosphere and echoed far up the distant hill-slopes. 
 Silverheels was the favorite of the hour. 
 
 At this moment, some one raised the cry "Emi- 
 grants, emigrants ! " 
 
 " Where ? where ? " were the answering shouts. 
 
 " Coming down the Ohio, on a barge ! Let's help 
 them to land ! " 
 
 The crowd surged to the shore. A barge, on 
 which were several families with their household ef-
 
 198 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 fects and domestic animals, was quietly approach- 
 ing the landing. The vessel touched the beach ; and 
 the debarkation commenced. Paul Graydon el- 
 bowed his way through the crowd, thinking he 
 might aid the newcomers. A hand was laid upon 
 his arm ; and a familiar voice said : " Won't you 
 bid me welcome, Cousin Paul ? " 
 
 He staggered back a step, raised his eyes and 
 looked into those of Hester Lovelace !
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 FOR several seconds, Paul Graydon stood silently 
 staring at his cousin. His face showed pale 
 through its tan, and reflected conflicting emotions. 
 Gladness, distrust, love and dislike, were one and all 
 mirrored there. He was glad to see her she was 
 his old-time playmate ; but he distrusted toer mission. 
 He loved her, for the sake of the old days and the 
 kindness she and her parents had shown him ; but he 
 disliked her presence. He pitied her because he 
 knew that she had suffered ; but he condemned her 
 for the part she had played in her mother's under- 
 handed scheme. As he gazed, he saw the indelible 
 lines of suffering in her pale face. She was as 
 beautiful as before ; but the firm mouth was a little 
 firmer, the bright eyes were a little colder. She 
 stared at him fearlessly, and awaited his greeting. 
 At last he found his voice ; but his words were for- 
 mal and ungracious. 
 
 " What are you doing here? " was his chilling but 
 not unnatural question. 
 
 The expression of her marble features did not 
 change. 
 
 " I came to see the only relative I have on the 
 American continent. Is this my welcome?" 
 
 (199)
 
 200 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Your only relative ! " he ejaculated. 
 
 " That's what I said." 
 
 " But Aunt Caroline " 
 
 " Is in a better land." 
 
 Paul caught his breath sharply and cried : 
 
 "Dead!" 
 
 " She is dead." 
 
 They were attracting attention. Paul took her 
 hand and led her aside. For some minutes no word 
 was said, as they seated themselves upon the green 
 bank, under the spreading branches of a gnarled 
 beech, with hands clasped. The voices from the 
 landing came to them, as a confused murmur. For 
 the time, both were living in the past ; and the hum 
 of voices seemed the echo of those they had known 
 and loved in childhood. The knowledge of the 
 death of his aunt eradicated all bitterness from 
 Paul's heart. He forgot her heartless words and 
 actions, and remembered only the kindness he had 
 received at her hands. She was the only mother he 
 had ever known. 
 
 " Tell me all about Aunt Caroline's death ! " he 
 said slowly, at last. 
 
 " She died within two weeks after your depart- 
 ure," Hester replied, looking out upon the Ohio, and 
 plucking at some dead leaves that clung to her gray 
 cloth dress. 
 
 " Two weeks ? " 
 
 " Yes you killed her ! " Her voice trembled. 
 She was almost in tears.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 201 
 
 " Hester ! " he cried with staring eyes. He 
 thought her mad. 
 
 The young woman's voice hardened as she said 
 almost fiercely: 
 
 " You did ! Your leaving us killed her ! At the 
 moment of your departure, she swooned away, and 
 she never rallied. Her last words were of you. 
 She begged me to find you and tell you she loved you 
 as a son to the last. She requested " Here she 
 faltered and grew embarrassed " me to to bring 
 you back to Virginia and and share the estate 
 with you." 
 
 Paul had recovered his composure; and now h 
 asked quietly : 
 
 " And you came for that purpose ? " 
 
 " I did." Her voice was as even and well mo- 
 dulated as his own. 
 
 " Who has charge of the plantation in your ab- 
 sence ? " 
 
 " The overseer." 
 
 " Are the families with whom you came through 
 from Virginia ? " 
 
 " Yes; from the lower Shenandoah." 
 
 " Shall you stay with them while you're in the 
 settlement ? " 
 
 "I presume so I know no others." 
 
 " Do you expect to remain long in the colony, 
 Hester?" 
 
 He was beginning to feel more at ease. Perhaps 
 she would prove tractable, after all. Surely she un-
 
 202 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 derstood that he would not marry her. Undoubt- 
 edly she had come to fulfill a promise to her dying 
 mother, and not with any thought that he would re- 
 turn with her. He was wholly unprepared for her 
 answer : 
 
 " Until you're ready to return with me." 
 
 He started to his feet crying : 
 
 " You don't know what you say ! I have no in- 
 tention of returning. I've cast my lot here, and here 
 I shall stay. All that I hold dearest on earth is 
 here " 
 
 She had arisen and was standing close to him. 
 
 Now she interrupted him : 
 
 " What do you mean when you say all you hold 
 dear is here ? " 
 
 A haggard look had crept into her face; and a 
 sickening dread had taken possession of her. 
 
 "I forgot you do not know," he stammered. 
 Then he went on hurriedly : 
 
 " You'll understand when I tell you that Isaac 
 Meeks and family are here. Marie Fontanelle is 
 with them. As you know, Hester, I love her dearly. 
 After once losing her, I won't leave her ; nor will I 
 accept a part of your estate. You didn't know that 
 they were here ? " 
 
 " No no ; I did not not know they were 
 here," she murmured, with white lips. 
 
 She took a step backward ; and her eyes fell. Her 
 face was like marble ; and she trembled visibly. All 
 through the toilsome and dangerous journey, she
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 203 
 
 had been stimulated by the thought of again seeing 
 Paul her love. The hope that he would renounce 
 his quest of Marie and return to Virginia, to become 
 her husband had sustained her. It had not entered 
 her mind that he was with the French girl. Was 
 she to lose him at last, after all that she had under- 
 gone? The thought was maddening. Slowly the 
 red blood left her heart and mantled her face. She 
 experienced a burning, tingling sensation that ran 
 from crown to sole. 
 
 Paul noted his cousin's look and attitude, and con- 
 sidered it an auspicious time to urge her return to 
 Virginia as soon as possible. He thought, after 
 what he had told her, she would be glad to escape to 
 the privacy of her own home. 
 
 " Hester, I'm very sorry that you came here " 
 
 She looked up quickly and attempted to speak, 
 but he continued : 
 
 "I'm glad to see you, and I sympathize with you 
 in your bereavement, but " 
 
 " Paul," she interrupted half fiercely, " if Isaac 
 Meeks and family are here, then you know all !" 
 
 "Yes; I know all." 
 
 She was silent a moment ; then she burst forth : 
 
 " Xo ; you don't know all! You don't know 
 you never can know how madly I love you ! I 
 promised my dying mother I would find you and lay 
 bare my heart before you. Oh ! Paul, I love you as 
 no other in the wide world can love you ! I " 
 
 " Hester Hester ! " was all he could say.
 
 204 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 She saw him shrink from her. But, goaded to 
 desperation by bitter disappointment, she poured 
 forth a torrent of half incoherent sentences. 
 
 "I do I do!" she cried wildly. "Why 
 should I attempt to conceal the truth ? I would do 
 anything be anything to win you! Without 
 you, life is a waste ; with you, a bower of heaven ! 
 See! I throw myself at your feet and entreat you 
 not to cast me off ! " 
 
 Her voice softened her eyes filled with tears. 
 She dropped upon her knees and, clasping her slim, 
 white hands, looked up at him pleadingly. Her 
 black hair uncoiled and fell in glossy waves about 
 her shapely shoulders. Her voice was choked with 
 sobs as she continued : 
 
 " I have loved you long, Paul ; I have followed 
 you here I would follow you to the ends of the 
 earth ! All I have all I am is yours ! Surely you 
 cannot be so cruel as to say me nay, when I forget 
 my pride and womanhood, and, on bended knees, 
 beseech you to give me the right to be with you 
 always ! Paul Paul don't look at me so ! You 
 will drive me mad ! " 
 
 Without a word, he stooped to raise her ; but 
 she motioned him away and panted: 
 
 " No no ! Not until you have promised not 
 until " 
 
 " Hester Lovelace ! " he cried sternly. " Have 
 you lost all reason ? Get up I command you ! "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 205 
 
 " Promise me promise me ! " came in a whisper 
 from her dry lips. 
 
 Paul's nerves were at the highest tension, and his 
 eyes were stern as he said slowly : 
 
 "I can not!" 
 
 Hester sprang- to her. feet a tigress at bay. 
 Coming close to him, she hissed: 
 
 " You will not ! " 
 
 " Have it so," he answered quietly. 
 
 Her features worked and froth gathered at the 
 corners of her mouth, as, with disheveled hair, she 
 stamped her foot in impotent rage. 
 
 " Fool ! " she foamed. " You've changed my love 
 to bitterest hate ! Henceforth I live for revenge ! 
 Take your baby- faced backwoods wench but I 
 will never forgive you never ! I shall follow you 
 as the soft-footed lioness follows her prey I shall 
 be your Nemesis! You shall suffer as you have 
 made me suffer! Though you go to the remotest 
 corner of the globe, I'll follow you and torment you. 
 I wish you a long life of misery may you know 
 neither peace nor plenty ! And here where you 
 have spurned me, I call down upon your head the 
 curses of the most high God ! " 
 
 She turned quickly and left him. Like one in a 
 dream, he followed and saw her rejoin her compan- 
 ions. Then, with bowed head, he turned toward 
 Campus Martius. 
 
 It was dusk. The people were at supper or at- 
 tending to their evening chores. Neither Isaac nor
 
 206 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Gumbo had seen Hester. None knew of her arrival 
 except Paul. As he pursued his way, he was startled 
 by the boom of a cannon at Fort Harmer. He paused 
 and listened. In a moment the gruff bark of another 
 broke the stillness of evening, and sent its hoarse 
 echoes rolling up and down the valleys. Another 
 and another followed, until thirteen brazen throats 
 had thundered forth the message that the " thirteen 
 united colonies were, and of a right ought to be, free 
 and independent states." 
 
 He strode onward in the gathering shadows, so 
 preoccupied that he did not notice a man rapidly 
 coming toward him from the blockhouse, until they 
 were close together. 
 
 " W'y, is dat you, Marse Paul ? " cried Gumbo's 
 well-known voice. 
 
 " Yes. Where away, Gumbo? " 
 
 " Fs gwine down fo' dat Doctor True ; Marse 
 Glair's little gal's dyin', dey tinks. In free 'r four 
 minutes I'll be back to git supper, Marse Paul." 
 
 " Too bad too bad ! " Paul muttered to himself, 
 as he resumed his way. Evidently he had in mind 
 the critical illness of the governor's little child, 
 and not the fact that his black servitor had promised 
 to prepare supper. 
 
 On reaching his quarters, the young man threw 
 himself upon a rude couch of skins and gave him- 
 self up to thought. He was very sorry; yet what 
 else could he have done? He knew Hester would 
 attempt to carry out her threat and hound him to
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 207 
 
 death, if necessary, to glut her revenge. He had no 
 fear, however, for his own safety. His cousin had 
 wished him a long life of misery. Evidently she did 
 not intend to do him physical injury. What then? 
 She had vowed to have revenge what course 
 would she pursue? Marie! He sprang erect at 
 the thought. Yes, Hester would attempt to injure 
 Marie ! 
 
 " She will rest neither night nor day until she 
 has had revenge," he mused gloomily. " I must 
 guard Marie closely. There's no knowing what a 
 desperate woman may attempt. Hester will not be 
 turned aside from her purpose. It's terrible to think 
 of having a merciless enemy on one's trail through 
 all the years that are to come. Until she's dead 
 there'll be no rest for me or mine I know her too 
 well!" 
 
 Gumbo returned and talked glibly of the day, 
 as he prepared the evening meal. Paul had little to 
 say. The quick-witted black saw that something 
 was amiss ; but he did not betray his knowledge by 
 word or look. He knew in the end Paul would 
 confide in him, and the sable-skinned fellow patient- 
 ly awaited the other's pleasure. 
 
 Supper over, Graydon sauntered out-of-doors, for 
 a breath of cool air ; for the heat indoors was stifling. 
 As he reached the middle of the courtyard, a young 
 woman ran up to him and, with a cry of " Oh, my 
 Paul ! " threw her arms around him. It was 
 Marie ; and she was trembling with excitement.
 
 208 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " What is it, dear ? " Paul inquired, as he held her 
 from him and peered into her upturned face. In the 
 darkness that walled them in he could not see her 
 features distinctly, but he felt the heaving of her 
 chest as his hands rested upon her shoulders. 
 
 " I'm so so surprised, so frightened ! " she 
 panted. 
 
 " Tell me all about it," he said gently, as he led 
 her toward the door of the blockhouse. 
 
 They seated themselves upon the sill, and Marie 
 began: 
 
 " I went down to Colonel Sproat's to get some 
 blackberry wine for the sick child " 
 
 " Is she very ill ? " he interrupted. 
 
 " Very ill I don't think she will last until morn- 
 ing. The doctor says she will go with the turn of 
 the night. Poor Louise ! She's almost prostrated. 
 But, as I was saying, I went to Colonel's Sproat's for 
 wine. Coming back, I met someone in the narrow 
 path. It was a woman. I could distinguish her 
 form, but not her features. I stepped to one side 
 and, as I did so, wished her good evening. She 
 paused abruptly, and oh, Paul ! she caught me by 
 the arm, and shaking me, hissed in my ear : ' You've 
 won him with your milk-and-water beauty! Make 
 the most of your conquest while you may; you 
 shall not live long to enjoy your triumph over me ! " 
 And, Paul my Paul, it was your cousin, Hester 
 Lovelace ! " 
 
 Marie hid her face and shuddered. He tenderly
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 209 
 
 caressed her, as he replied with an assurance he did 
 not feel : 
 
 " Yes yes ; I know Hester is here. I've seen 
 her and talked to her. She came to bear me a 
 message from her mother, who died shortly after my 
 departure. True, she is very angry that I won't go 
 back with her " 
 
 " And marry her ? " Marie asked without raising 
 her head. 
 
 " Yes, and marry her. But her anger is impotent. 
 We'll shun her on all occasions, and thus rob her 
 of all chance to do or say aught to harm us. I 
 doubt not that she would gladly separate us ; but that 
 she cannot do. No, dear one, you've no cause for 
 alarm. My cousin will weary of the privations and 
 hardships of the settlement soon, and return." 
 
 She raised her gold-crowned head : 
 
 " You are so wise and good, Paul," she mur- 
 mured ; " you know so well how to soothe and com- 
 fort me." Then with a little shudder : " Yet I 
 never can rest easy until your cousin has left us to 
 ourselves. I fear she'll plot evil against us. But I 
 must return to poor Louise. I pity her so death 
 is an awful thing ! And Louise is both mother and 
 sister to the sick child. Good night." 
 
 He held her for a moment, while he asked : 
 
 " Did you see where Hester went when she left 
 you?" 
 
 " She followed me a short distance, then turned 
 off toward the bank of the river." 
 
 u
 
 210 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 Marie flitted away toward the quarters of Gov- 
 ernor St. Clair, while Paul sat in the doorway 
 where she had left him, pondering deeply. It was 
 evident to him that his cousin was almost mad 
 with rage and disappointment ; and he was greatly 
 concerned. Could he have seen her at that moment, 
 he would have been dumb with surprise and horror. 
 
 When Hester Lovelace abandoned the pursuit of 
 Marie, she made her way, sullen and reckless, to 
 the bank of the Muskingum, and, like a caged 
 tigress, paced up and down, biting her pale lips 
 and muttering to herself. For the time she was 
 irresponsible. Over and over the one word " re- 
 venge " throbbed through her brain. With every 
 heart-beat she seemed to feel "revenge! re- 
 venge ! " She had eaten no supper, and was weak 
 from fasting and fatigue ; but she did not realize it. 
 
 "I believe I'm going mad!" she cried at last, 
 stopping suddenly and pressing her palms to her 
 throbbing temples. " Oh, Paul Graydon ! I shall 
 be ready and anxious to die, when I've made you 
 suffer as I do this night ! " 
 
 The moon was rising. A shadowy figure moved 
 forward and found a hiding place behind a huge 
 tree trunk ; but Hester did not see it. 
 
 " Hates Paul Graydon and wants to make him 
 suffer, eh ? " a voice said in a whisper as faint as 
 the breath of the evening breeze. 
 
 The moon suddenly sprang above the low-lying
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 211 
 
 cloud bank on the horizon ; and quickly the shadow 
 resolved itself into the form of Red Wallace. 
 
 "Who can she be?" he asked as he watched 
 the lithe figure pacing up and down, in the moon- 
 light. " I believe I'll speak to her." 
 
 He stepped from behind the tree trunk, into 
 the full light of the moon. Hester did not appear 
 to be aware of his presence, although he stood di- 
 rectly in her path. Not until he spoke did she give 
 him the slightest notice. 
 
 " Hello, my pretty jade ! " he cried with bold fa- 
 miliarity. " You're out walking late. Don't you 
 want some one to keep you company ? " 
 
 " Sir ! " she cried, starting back in alarm. 
 
 " Hoity-toity ! " he laughed. " I'm not going to 
 eat you up. Don't be scared at my rough way of 
 speaking I'm as gentle as a cooing dove. I find 
 you in trouble ; perhaps I can help you, if you'll 
 tell me all about it." 
 
 " Sir ! " And Hester made a move to turn and 
 leave him. " I'm not desirous of your company ; 
 and I'm not in the habit of confiding my troubles to 
 strangers." 
 
 Again Red Wallace laughed ; this time sneeringly. 
 
 " Not in the habit of confiding to strangers, eh ! " 
 he said. " Well, you were sowing your secrets 
 broadcast just now. The passing wind may carry 
 them to other ears Mr. Paul Graydon's, for in- 
 stance."
 
 212 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " They can tell him no more than I've already 
 told him," she replied, in a hard, cold voice. 
 
 " Look here, my young woman ! " Wallace said, 
 coming close to her and laying his hand upon her 
 arm. " I've good reason to hate this young man, 
 Graydon ; so've you. Tell me what you want done, 
 and I'll do it. What do you say ? " 
 
 She shook off his arm, but did not leave him. 
 Instead, she turned upon him with flashing eyes, 
 crying : 
 
 "If you'll do what I want done, you shall be 
 well paid. Now ! " 
 
 " Sh ! " he whispered warningly, placing his finger 
 upon his lips and glancing apprehensively around. 
 " Not so loud ; there may be listeners. What do you 
 want done? " 
 
 " I want but how do I know you'll do it ? How 
 do I know you won't report to the authorities what 
 I say?" 
 
 " Let's understand each other," Wallace answered 
 with an evil smile that Hester did not see. " My 
 name is Wallace Red Wallace they call me. 
 Paul Graydon gave me a drubbing; I hate him. 
 What's your name?" 
 
 " Hester Lovelace." 
 
 " Do you live here ? " 
 
 " I'm staying here." 
 
 " I understand and Graydon ? " 
 
 " Is my cousin. 
 
 "And has jilted you "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 213 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 It was an open insult. There had been times 
 when she would have left him but now her nobler 
 instincts were subjugated to her overmastering de- 
 sire for revenge. The one word was her only 
 protest. 
 
 "Don't get on your high horse!" Wallace re- 
 turned. He knew he was gaining the ascendency, 
 and he chuckled inwardly. 
 
 " Go on, now tell me what you want done ; and 
 I'll strike a bargain with you. Do you want him 
 killed?" 
 
 " No, not that ! I want him to suffer." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " As I have suffered as I suffer now." 
 
 " Then there's somebody else you want re- 
 moved ? " 
 
 " Yes yes ! " Hester replied, eagerly. 
 
 " Who what's her name? " 
 
 He was reading her mind, apparently, as one 
 reads a printed page. 
 
 " Marie Fontanelle," was the reply. 
 
 She knew that she ought not to answer his ques- 
 tions; and she wondered at her folly. Yet she 
 felt that she must obey him. What eerie power was 
 he exercising over her? Like one in a dream she 
 heard him saying: 
 
 " I don't know her." 
 
 " She is Isaac Meeks' niece," she answered, me- 
 chanically.
 
 214 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Ah ! And you want her removed? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That you may have him to yourself ? " 
 
 " That I may see him writhe in anguish ! " 
 
 " But you love Paul Graydon ? " 
 
 " My love has changed to hate." 
 
 " W-e-11," he said, slowly, "I'll think over the mat- 
 ter. I think it can be done but it's a risky piece 
 of work. Listen! You're to meet me at this spot 
 one week from tonight. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Very well. Go to your home at once." 
 
 Without a word, she did as he directed. He 
 watched her receding form and listened to her soft 
 footfalls until she was lost to sight and hearing. 
 Then he strode up the river, muttering to himself: 
 
 " Rich and beautiful and in my power ! Old 
 George Lovelace's daughter, I'll bet a pound of pow- 
 der! What changes time does bring! Listening 
 to her well-modulated tones, enjoying her refined 
 presence, I could imagine myself back among the 
 fair maids and stately dames of old Virginia. 
 Pshaw ! I'm a fool ! What has an outlaw, a rene- 
 gade, to do with such things? I wonder if her 
 father's still living; I've an old score to settle with 
 him ! " A fierce scowl darkened his sensual face. 
 " Some member of the family shall pay the 
 debt as well the daughter as anyone. All things 
 come to him who waits ! "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 215 
 
 As he disappeared among the shadows cast by the 
 giant trees, another figure emerged from the wil- 
 lows along the shore, and followed him. It was the 
 Shawnee.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN THE gray of the morning-, Paul and Gumbo 
 were awakened by a knock at their door. As 
 Gumbo opened it, Silverheels, unbidden, stepped 
 over the threshold and seated himself on a stool by 
 the fireless hearth. 
 
 Paul leaped from his couch and, hurriedly throw- 
 ing on his clothes, sought the Indian's side, saying : 
 
 " I can tell from the look upon my red brother's 
 face, that he brings news." 
 
 " Ugh ! " the Shawnee grunted ; but he kept his 
 eye upon Gumbo, and was silent. 
 
 " Gumbo, you may go and feed the horses," said 
 Paul. " I'll kindle the fire for breakfast." 
 
 The obedient black took up his hat and left the 
 room. For fully a minute the Indian kept a moody 
 silence. It seemed an age to Paul, who felt his 
 companion had something of grave importance to 
 communicate. Pointing to his torn and soiled moc- 
 casins and dew-wet leggins, Silverheels began : 
 
 " Since the rising of the moon, I have traveled 
 far on the trail of the Red Fox. Now I am here." 
 
 " The Red Fox? " Paul queried. 
 
 " Yes, the Red Fox that sought to cripple the 
 wings of White Eagle." 
 
 (2IC)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 217 
 
 "You mean Red Wallace?" 
 
 " Ugh ! He has left the lodges of the palefaces 
 and gone to his den in the woods." 
 
 " Why did you follow him? " 
 
 " To find his den." 
 
 " Did you succeed ? " 
 
 The Indian nodded his head in the affirmative. 
 
 "Where is it?" 
 
 " Far up the Moose Eye, in the rocks." 
 
 " Then he does not live among the Delawares." 
 
 " The Red Fox may have more than one den," Sil- 
 verheels replied. " He comes and goes he is very 
 cunning he is hard to trail." 
 
 "I'm glad he has left the settlement, at any 
 rate," Paul said musingly. 
 
 Hester's wild threats had made her cousin ner- 
 vous, and apprehensive for the safety of Marie. 
 
 " Ere he left the village of the white men/' Sil- 
 verheels resumed, " Red Fox talked long with the 
 tall young woman that yesterday shook the hand of 
 White Eagle." 
 
 Paul sprung to his feet, surprise and incredulity 
 upon his countenance. 
 
 " With whom did he talk ? " he cried. 
 
 " With the tall young woman that has hair as 
 black as the crow's wing." 
 
 " Hester! " the young man ejaculated. 
 
 "Ugh! She is a she wolf she snarls and 
 bites." 
 
 " It cannot be you must be mistaken ! "
 
 2i8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 The Shawnee shook his head. 
 
 " Where did you see them ? " 
 
 Silverheels jerked his thumb in the direction of 
 the Muskingum, but maintained a stolid silence. 
 
 " When was it ? " 
 
 " Last night when the moon shone big and 
 round above the treetops." 
 
 "When the moon was rising?" 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " Of what did they talk ? " And Paul anxiously 
 awaited the reply. 
 
 " Of White Eagle and the blue-eyed maiden." 
 
 The young Englishman drew his breath spasmodi- 
 cally " And what did they say ? " 
 
 The Indian arose, as he answered : " Silver- 
 heels can hear the steps of the fur-footed 
 hare, but he cannot hear the sounds of moonbeams 
 striking the earth. The voices of Red Fox and 
 She Wolf were softer than the whisper of rippling 
 waters. Silverheels could not hear all that they said. 
 But they plotted harm to the blue-eyed maiden. 
 Let White Eagle open wide his eyes and ears let 
 him beware." 
 
 He shouldered his rifle and started toward the 
 door ; but Paul arrested his progress by asking : 
 
 "Where now?" 
 
 ' The woods and streams await my coming," was 
 the reply ; " I go." 
 
 He crossed the threshold, passed through the 
 western gate of the fortress, and was gone. When
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 219 
 
 Gumbo came in from the stables, Paul was stand- 
 ing where the Shawnee had left him. 
 
 " Marse Glair's little gal's dead," said the darky, 
 as he knelt and began to build a fire. 
 
 " I am not surprised," Graydon returned, as he 
 dropped upon a stool. 
 
 He did not change his position, but sat gazing out 
 of the open door while Gumbo busied himself with 
 their morning meal. 
 
 " Break fas' is ready, Marse Paul," Gumbo said, 
 after the lapse of a half hour. 
 
 Graydon did not stir. 
 
 The negro shook his head, muttering under his 
 breath : 
 
 " Wish dat Injin debil 'Id aggregate hisse'f clean 
 outen dis curriculum, an' stay out I does ; kase 
 eb'ry time he comes dar's no end ob trouble. Marse 
 Paul wa'n't feelin' berry well, nohow ; an' sence dat 
 Shawnee's come insinuatin' 'round dis mornin', he's 
 done los' all interes' an' principal in co'n pone an' 
 venison." Then in a louder tone : " Marse Paul, 
 doesn't you want to partook ob yo' breakfas' ? " 
 
 " What did you say ?" Paul asked, as he faced his 
 black friend. 
 
 " Breakfas' 's ready." 
 
 Paul arose and joined Gumbo at the table. Scarce- 
 ly were they seated when Gumbo began : 
 
 " Marse Paul, dar's somefin' discommodin' de life 
 outen you dar is. Ain't you gwine to tell ol' Gum- 
 bo w'at it am?"
 
 220 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " I am greatly worried that's true," Paul re- 
 plied. " Hester, my cousin, is here " 
 
 " Wat's dat ? " cried the negro. 
 
 " Hester is here." 
 
 " Gumbo rolled his eyes until nothing but the 
 whites were visible, and said with great solem- 
 nity: 
 
 " Am dat so ! Den dar's mischief brewin', sure 
 'nough. Wen did she come ? " 
 
 " Yesterday." 
 
 " Wat's she gallivantin' roun' de settlement fo' ? " 
 
 " She wants me to return to Virginia with her. 
 Aunt Caroline is dead " 
 
 " Is de ol' missus dead ? " 
 
 " Yes and Hester wishes me to return to Vir- 
 ginia, and share the estate with her." 
 
 " Is you gwine, Marse Paul? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Did you tell Miss Hester dat ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and she is very angry." 
 
 " She come clar out to dis wild an' solitudinous 
 country to git you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Marse Paul, she wants you to marry 'er." 
 
 Paul nodded. 
 
 " Did she p'opose to you ? " 
 
 " You might call it that yes." 
 
 "Den, Marse Paul, de debil's to pay an,' Injin 
 debil at dat! Miss Hester's jes like de ol' missus 
 w'ateber she sets 'er head an' heart on, dat she's
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 221 
 
 gwine to hab. You's 'nsulted 'er, Marse Paul, by 
 'fusin' to marry 'er; an' she'll neber fo'gib you. 
 She'll foller you to de ends ob de worl' to to'ment 
 you. You got to watch 'er, Marse Paul you got 
 to watch 'er ; 'deed an' dat's a fack ! " 
 
 Gumbo realized as fully as did Paul the vindic- 
 tiveness of which Hester was capable. He gravely 
 shook his head, as he reached for another piece of 
 steaming corn pone, and continued : 
 
 " She'll be up to some debilment in less dan two 
 days can't fool dis nigger! He knowed de ol' 
 missus an' he knows de young missus. 'Spect she'll 
 try to hurt 'r skeer de little gal jes to worry you, 
 Marse Paul. I'd be right down discriminatin' glad 
 if she'd shake de dust ob de settlement ofF'n 'er 
 shoes fo' good I would, Marse Paul." 
 
 " She has begun already," Paul answered, as he 
 pushed back his stool. " And whom do you think 
 she has chosen for an accomplice ? " 
 
 " Hasn't de least idee, Marse Paul." 
 
 " Red Wallace." 
 
 "Wat!" 
 
 " It's true." And Paul told what Silverheels 
 had seen and heard. 
 
 The negro had not finished his breakfast ; but now 
 his appetite failed him. He sat in silence for some 
 moments. At last he said : 
 
 " Dar isn't no use talkin', dar's gwine to be 
 trouble an' lots ob it. Wen a woman stoops to de 
 lebel ob a white Injin den watch out ! She's des-
 
 222 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 per't dat's wa't she's desper't; an' dar ain't 
 nuffin' she won't try to do to git vengeance." 
 
 Then his face lighted up. 
 
 " Marse Paul, didnt' you say somefin' one day 
 'bout movin' up de 'Skingum you an' Isaac an' 
 some mo' people ? " 
 
 " I spoke of entering land up there and founding 
 a settlement. Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " Den de sooner you does it de better. Git de 
 little gal 'way from here maybe Miss Hester 
 wouldn't foller you. 'Spect she gib up an' go back 
 to ol' Virginny. You can fight In j ins an' bars, 
 Marse Paul, but you can't fight a mad woman no- 
 how you jes got to run off an' leabe 'er." 
 
 " You may be right, Gumbo," Paul answered. 
 " I'll see Meeks and the others at once. If we're 
 going, we should go soon. In the meantime, I want 
 you to aid me in guarding Marie." 
 
 "All right, Marse Paul !" the darky returned right 
 cheerfully. " Dis nigger '11 do his lebel bes' to keep 
 de purty little gal all safe an' soun' you can done 
 count on ol' Gumbo." 
 
 Paul went at once to Isaac Meeks' cabin. He 
 found that worthy seated on his doorstep, smoking 
 his corncob pipe in evident contentment, and tender- 
 ly caressing the pendulous ears of a lank hound 
 pup that rested its head upon his knee. Graydon 
 apprised his hunter friend of Hester's presence, 
 and told him of Gumbo's suggestion in regard to 
 the new settlement. Nancy, overhearing Paul, came
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 223 
 
 and listened to all that was said. When the young 
 man had finished, Isaac remarked: 
 
 " Guess the nigger's 'bout right ; we ought to 
 have the settlement well started 'fore winter sets 
 in, anyhow. We can enter land at any time now ; 
 an' there' ain't no need o' waitin'. What do you 
 think o' that big bottom the Shawnee p'inted out, 
 Mister Paul ? " 
 
 " The very place I had in mind ; and we'll call 
 our colony ' Big Bottom.' " 
 
 " Well, le's hunt up John Stacey an' young Put- 
 nam an' the Choate boys, an' start the ball a-rollin' 
 to once. It'll take us several weeks to gether up 
 things an' git ready to go. Le's mosey down to Col- 
 onel Stacey's, an' see if John's to home." 
 
 As they arose to go, Nancy who until that mo- 
 ment had preserved an unwonted silence said : 
 
 " Git things ready as soon as you can ; an' le's clear 
 out o' here. Course it looks kind o' little to run 
 away from an enemy an' that enemy a woman ; 
 but I s'pose there's nothin' else to do. She couldn't 
 harm anybody, likely; but she'll keep us all in hot 
 water as long as we're in the same neighborhood. 
 Confound 'er ! I wish she'd staid to home an' not 
 come traipsin' out here. Anyhow, I'm anxious to 
 git a piece o' land we can call our own. If 
 she comes pesterin' 'round Big Bottom as Mr. 
 Paul calls it she'll find me into 'er wool. She 
 won't do nothin' o' the kind, though ; 'cause ther' 
 won't be no place fer 'er to stay. We'll be well red
 
 224 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 of 'er an' glad of it. She'll git discouraged an' 
 go back to Virginny." 
 
 " I hope so," was all the reply Paul made, as he 
 and Isaac moved away. 
 
 The two men sought the other members- of the 
 association. All were made to understand the ne- 
 cessity of haste, if they were to be well established in 
 their new home, ere the advent of cold weather. 
 Each man promised to do everything that lay in his 
 power to further the preparations for departure. It 
 was with a much lighter heart that Paul left the oth- 
 ers, and accompanied by John Stacey, walked down 
 to the Ohio shore to look at a barge the company 
 purposed to buy of Commodore Whipple. 
 
 As the two young men descended the gentle slope 
 to the water's edge, a disgusting sight met their 
 gaze. A party of men among whom were a num- 
 ber of soldiers from Fort Harmer acting on the 
 theory that " the hair of the dog cures the bite," 
 were dissipating the effect of the previous day's po- 
 tations, by indulging in another carouse. With 
 hoarse shouts and ribald jests, they staggered 
 around a prostrate man ; and, thrusting their flasks 
 under his nose, attempted to make him drink. The 
 man upon the ground was Silverheels ! 
 
 When Graydon and Stacey made the discovery 
 that it was their red friend, they rushed upon the 
 tipsy rowdies and flung them right and left. Bend- 
 ing down, they cut the thongs that bound the In- 
 dian's limbs, and assisted him to his feet. He was
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 225 
 
 bleeding freely from a wound upon the temple; 
 and his lips were bruised and swollen from the 
 impact of the flasks that had been jammed against 
 them. His handsome features were drawn into a 
 scowl of rage ; and his eyes had in them the frenzy 
 of a goaded beast. He spoke no word, as he folded 
 his arms upon his broad chest and faced his tormen- 
 tors ; but his silence spoke volumes more than any 
 outburst of passion could have expressed. 
 
 " What's the meaning of this outrage? " Graydon 
 thundered, his voice choked with passion. 
 
 The hangdog inebriates leering and chuckling 
 in maudlin fashion commenced a hasty and con- 
 fused retreat ; but Stacey springing in front of them 
 cried authoritatively : 
 
 " Stop every one of you ! If you don't give 
 a satisfactory explanation of this shameful affair, 
 I'll report it to Governor St. Clair and General Put- 
 nam." 
 
 Awed and half-sobered by the young settler's 
 threat, the men halted in indecision. One of their 
 number, a middle-aged soldier from the fort, hum- 
 bly doffed his hat and said : 
 
 " We didn't mean any harm (hie), Mis'r Stacey 
 Graydon 'r Graydon Stacey. The Injin refused 
 to drink with us that's all. Course we (hie) 
 couldn't stand that. So when he went to get into 
 his canoe we we j-jumped on to him, and tried to 
 make him dr-drink. He showed fight so we had to 
 (hie) throw him down and tie him. He fought like 
 15
 
 226 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 a wildcat Look at this eye ! And see Fletcher's 
 nose! Doc True '11 have to straighten it up, 'r-'r 
 (hie) Fletcher won't ever be fit to call on the ladies. 
 But we were too many fer the redskin, Mis'r Stady 
 Grayson and we tied him and tried to make 
 him drink ; but he sp-spit the good liquor out and 
 and (hie) that's all there was of it. 'Spect old 
 Copperheels '11 never forgive us. His gun's in the 
 bottom of his canoe he'd just laid it (hie) in 
 there when we we j-jumped onto him." 
 
 Paul approached the rowdies and said fiercely : 
 
 " For shame ! And you call yourselves civilized 
 beings ! Begone each man to his quarters ! And 
 consider yourselves lucky if this doesn't come to 
 the ears of the governor. Go! Sleep off your 
 drunken debauch and resolve to be men ; today you 
 are brutes ! " 
 
 The men, with many backward glances and im- 
 precations, staggered up the slope and disappeared. 
 When the last one was out of sight, Paul turned to 
 Silverheels, and, taking his hand, said brokenly : 
 
 " My red brother, I have not words to ex- 
 press my regret and sorrow at the wanton insult 
 you have received. This is the second time you 
 have been made to feel that there are those in the 
 colony, who have forgotten the true meaning of 
 gratitude and respect. Nothing that I can say 
 will change the case. You have been overcome by 
 brute force and numbers, and subjected to humili- 
 ating abuse. I blush for my people but I can
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 227 
 
 offer no excuse for their conduct ; all that I can do 
 is to again assure you that you have my sincerest 
 friendship as, also, you have that of many others 
 in the settlement. Stacey and I will stand by you 
 to the death." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " Stacey replied earnestly. " We 
 are your friends in the fullest meaning of the 
 sacred word." 
 
 Silverheels passed his free hand over his bruised 
 lips, and muttered in hoarse accents : 
 
 " The Shawnee knows his friend and he knows 
 his enemy. The one he loves the other he hates ! 
 Many times he has befriended the whites. Today 
 he has received his reward. He will not forget ! The 
 pack of howling wolves may overcome the buffalo 
 when he is off his guard. But when he rises he 
 flings them off and tramples them to death, one 
 by one. The Shawnee will not forget ! His face is 
 stained with blood. It shall be washed away in 
 the blood of his enemies. His lips are bruised ; the 
 lips of his foes shall be silenced forever. The 
 Shawnee will not forget ! " 
 
 John and Paul looked at each other in painful 
 silence. Each fully understood the Indian's mean- 
 ing. Both realized that the act of the drunken 
 rowdies had changed the red hunter's secret friend- 
 ship for the colonists, to open enmity. 
 
 As though communing with himself, Silverheels 
 continued : 
 
 " Many, many moons ago, the Shawnee dwelt
 
 228 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 among the palefaces. He said to himself : ' The 
 white blood in my veins will make of me a white 
 man. I will learn their ways I will wear their 
 dress I will be one of them.' He learned their 
 ways, he wore their dress but he was not one of 
 them. He spoke their tongue, he read in their 
 books, he wrote his name; but he was not a white 
 man. They scorned and despised him. He loved 
 a paleface maiden; she laughed at him and told 
 him to go to the lodges of the Shawnees for a wife. 
 In his disappointment he drank of the fiery rum 
 the palefaces held to his lips. He drank until his 
 eyes were dim and his hand was unsteady; until 
 his steps were uncertain and his aim was untrue. 
 His head ached and his limbs trembled. He said, 
 ' I will drink no more ;' but ' more more ' was 
 the echo that rang in his ears. He left the villages 
 of the palefaces but he could not return to the 
 redmen. He was an outcast but he was a Shaw- 
 nee. For years he has lived alone. The sun is his 
 father, the moon is his mother; the trees and rocks 
 are his brothers and sisters. Today the palefaces 
 again tempted him to drink rum but he would 
 not. They bore him to the earth and held the fire- 
 water to his lips; its fragrant breath was sweet in 
 his nostrils but he did not drink. They bound 
 him with thongs and kicked him. The Shawnee 
 will not forget ! " 
 Then taking Stacey's hand and retaining his grasp
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 229 
 
 upon Paul's, he looked at the two young men for 
 a few moments and resumed: 
 
 " White Eagle, Silverheels has learned to love you 
 and your friend. He thought to visit the village of 
 the palefaces often, that he might be near you. But 
 the God of the white men wills it otherwise; he 
 has turned his back upon the Shawnee. Silverheels 
 will return to his lonely lodge. No more will he 
 enter the village of his enemies. He will live for 
 revenge ; the palefaces shall feel the strength of his 
 strong right arm. Farewell 1 " 
 
 " Surely," Graydon cried in surprise, " you will 
 not harm those that have been kind to you ? " 
 
 "The Shawnee knows his friends he will not 
 mistake them for enemies ! " 
 
 Without another word, he sprang into his canoe 
 and paddled away.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE following day, Governor St. Clair's little 
 daughter was laid to rest in the clearing con- 
 taining the large mound of the mound-builders. 
 This plot of ground is today known as the Mound 
 Cemetery, and contains the graves of many pioneers. 
 At this time Governor St. Clair's wife and son were 
 at the old home in Pennsylvania. He and his two 
 remaining daughters had to bear their sorrow alone. 
 Through it all, Marie had been an ever-ready sup- 
 port and comfort to her friend. As they walked 
 home from the funeral, Louise said feelingly : 
 
 " What should I have done without you, Marie ? 
 You've been so kind to me, and I I didn't deserve 
 it! I " 
 
 Her voice choked and she could say no more. 
 Marie slipped an arm around the waist of her 
 friend, and, lovingly kissing her tear-stained cheek, 
 replied consolingly : 
 
 " Don't say another word, Louise ; it only makes 
 you more sorrowful. We understand each other 
 and " 
 
 " No, you don't understand all you don't knoiv 
 all ! " Louise interrupted quickly. " Let me tell you 
 (230)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 231 
 
 I must tell you ; never can I be happy again until 
 I've made a full confession!" 
 
 " Louise ! What do you mean ? " Marie inter- 
 rogated, in mild wonder. 
 
 " I mean that I've been false and wicked, Marie ! 
 You'll never forgive me when I tell you " 
 
 " Louise ! " was all that Marie could say. 
 
 " It's too true. When I came to you and pre- 
 tended that I wanted to make a friendly test of 
 Paul's affection for you, I acted a lie !" 
 
 Marie stared at her friend. She could not un- 
 derstand what Louise meant. The others had 
 passed on and left them. The two young women 
 stood facing each other. The vagrant breeze ca- 
 ressed Louise's olive cheek and toyed with Marie's 
 golden tresses, as though it could not tell fickle 
 thing which it admired the more. Louise went 
 on mercilessly prodding the iron into her own soul. 
 
 " Yes, I practiced deceit. I acted a lie ! I 
 framed a lie with my lips ! I loved Paul." Marie 
 started. " Do not shrink from me ! Wait until 
 you've heard all. Then, if you find it in your 
 heart to scorn and despise me, I shall have no 
 just cause for complaint. I loved Paul and I want- 
 ed to win him. I willfully planned to supersede 
 you. I I but I cannot go on ! I loved him 
 he cared naught for me. He was true as steel to 
 you. He told me that he loved you and meant 
 to marry you. I have been justly punished but,
 
 232 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 oh, none but God knows how I've suffered ! Marie, 
 can you forgive me ? " 
 
 She held out her hands with a pleading gesture, 
 and bowed her head in shame. The French girl 
 rushed forward, in her impetuous way, and throw- 
 ing her arms around the neck of her former rival 
 cried : 
 
 "Of course I forgive you, Louise! Could I 
 blame anyone for loving my Paul? We shall be 
 the same friends we have been in the past. I 
 can afford to be magnanimous for have you not 
 proven to me that my lover is a true and noble 
 man!" 
 
 " Yes," Louise murmured, almost inaudibly, 
 " he's a gentleman. I don't love him as I did, Ma- 
 rie; but I shall respect him always. Are you sure 
 that you freely and fully forgive me ? " 
 
 "Very sure." 
 
 " But but you cannot forget." 
 
 " Don't say that let's never mention the subject 
 again let's both strive to forget ! " 
 
 Louise's face bespoke a sense of relief and com- 
 fort she had not known in days. The horrid secret 
 was out ; and the one against whom she had sinned 
 forgave her. 
 
 " You've been so good to me, Marie. But you 
 mustn't leave me yet. I feel very lonely so lone- 
 ly that I can't spare you. Won't you make your 
 home with me, for a time, at least ? " 
 
 " Do you desire my company so much, Louise? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 233 
 
 "Can you ask?" 
 
 " Then, with Aunt Nancy's consent, I shall be 
 glad to stay with you for awhile. It'll be very 
 agreeable to me, in more ways than one ; I shall have 
 the pleasure of being with you, and I shall have 
 more comfortable quarters than Uncle Isaac's over- 
 crowded cabin affords." 
 
 In the evening, Stacey and Graydon came for a 
 walk with the young ladies. It was the first time 
 for days that the two couples had been together. 
 As they set out, Louise took John's arm, and they 
 led the way. All felt somewhat depressed over the 
 death of the* child; for in those primitive commu- 
 nities like the Marietta settlement, the simple-mind- 
 ed people felt deeply the sorrows and joys that fell 
 to the lot of their friends and neighbors. Little 
 was said as they rambled through the village of log 
 cabins. Low down on the western horizon, sheet- 
 lightning was playing ; and occasionally an indistinct 
 muttering growl told that a thunderstorm was hov- 
 ering there. Frogs croaked along the dark river 
 banks, and fireflies flitted and circled across the 
 fields of waist-high corn. 
 
 As the friends reached the bridge across Tyber 
 Creek, Hester Lovelace met and passed them. She 
 held her head high, and appeared unconscious of 
 their existence. In the faint light of the gathering 
 dusk, her features shone ashen and haggard; and 
 her coal-black hair, falling in unconfined masses
 
 234 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 below her waist, lent to her a weird and uncanny 
 aspect. 
 
 Marie shivered and drew closer to Paul's side". 
 
 " What is it, dear? " he asked softly. 
 
 "Didn't you see her, Paul your cousin? She 
 flitted by like a wraith." 
 
 " I saw her." 
 
 Again the girl shuddered. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " he inquired. 
 
 "I don't know, Paul ; but for some reason the 
 sight of Hester Lovelace inspires in me a feeling of 
 nameless dread." 
 
 " Don't be worried ; soon we shall leave, and go 
 where she cannot follow us. We're making all hastt 
 for our departure." 
 
 " But it will take some months to build the block- 
 house and cabins, Paul. You will be away from 
 me for days at a time with her here. I shall die 
 of horror ! " 
 
 " I wish you could stay with Louise until I can 
 make a home for you. You would be more con- 
 tent ; and I should be better satisfied of your safe- 
 
 ty-" 
 
 " She has invited me." 
 
 " I am glad. I shall leave Gumbo here to guard 
 you. No harm can come to you. Have no fears 
 but don't venture out after dark or alone ; and avoid 
 5tiy cousin." 
 
 On the evening of the eleventh of July, a man 
 stood in the shadow of a large elm upon the Mari-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 235 
 
 etta bank of the Muskingum. Apparently he wished 
 to escape observation; for, as John Stacey and a 
 number of others who had been building a boat 
 farther up the river passed near him, he crouched 
 low at the foot of the tree and scarcely breathed. 
 When the men had passed on, he arose and with an 
 oath muttered angrily : 
 
 " Curse the luck curse the girl ! If she plays 
 me false and does not come, I'll have her heart's 
 blood. I'm a fool to be here on such an errand. 
 Why is she so long in coming ? Hohum ! so she is 
 old George Lovelace's daughter the child of the 
 man who run me out of the Shenandoah valley, be- 
 cause I was too fond of a bit of good horseflesh. He 
 had me in his power, and I had to go had to leave 
 everything that I owned and held dear. Well, the 
 wheel of fortune has made a turn. Today I've his 
 daughter in my power and I'll make the most of 
 my chance ! It would be nice to go back to old 
 Virginia after so many years' absence, as the hus- 
 band of George Lovelace's fair daughter, and the 
 master of his vast estate. That would be a change 
 worth making from an outlaw among savages, to 
 the owner of one of the finest estates in the valley 
 of the Shenandoah. By the gods ! It's worth risk- 
 ing something to gain. Hello! here she comes 
 now." 
 
 But it was not Hester. It was a settler hunting 
 a cow that had strayed from the enclosure in which 
 she was confined at night. Red Wallace hastily hid
 
 236 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 himself behind the tree-trunk, and waited until 
 the solitary colonist had passed by. Then he stepped 
 from his hiding-place and, closely scanning the 
 western heavens, muttered: 
 
 " There's a thunderstorm coming up, too. So 
 much the better; no one will be abroad. I wish 
 the white jade would come! What can be keeping 
 her? I've thought out the whole matter during the 
 past week. There's nothing like a week alone in the 
 woods to sharpen one's wits. She's old George 
 Lovelace's only child a little thing of eight or 
 ten years, she was. And that nigger curse him ! 
 is one of the old man's slaves ; and Mr. Paul 
 Graydon " Here Wallace ground his teeth at 
 the recollection of the young Englishman "is a 
 cousin of Miss Hester's. Is it any wonder that I 
 hate the family? I've been put upon by the old 
 man, the nephew, and the nigger! But every dog 
 has his day ; and my day's at hand. Fortune, they 
 say, knocks but once at a man's door. Well, I'll 
 not bar her entrance. On the contrary, I'll take 
 the door off the hinges, bid her come in, and give 
 her the best stool in the cabin ! " 
 
 He chuckled, and again glanced at the darkened 
 heavens. 
 
 " Storm's coming up fast. Whew ! what a flash 
 and crash! It'll soon be here. I feel the wind 
 that's under it. In the devil's name! Why does- 
 n't that woman come ? Hark ! Here she is at last." 
 
 A light and cautious step approached his hiding-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 237 
 
 place. Nearer it came ; hesitated and stopped. He 
 made no movement, coolly waiting to see what she 
 would do. 
 
 " He hasn't come," he heard her complain. " I 
 should have known he was but amusing himself 
 Oh!" 
 
 It was Hester's voice. Her exclamation was in 
 answer to a vivid flash of lightning that, like a pol- 
 ished blade, ripped open the black curtain of the 
 sky and let through the first large drops of the 
 coming storm. She placed her hands against her 
 ears and blindly ran forward, as a rattling crash 
 of thunder followed; and sprang directly into the 
 outstretched arms of Red Wallace. 
 
 " Hello ! " he exclaimed, as he folded his muscu- 
 lar arms around her. " You come in dramatic style. 
 Don't try to get free, my pretty bird ! Afraid of 
 thunder and lightning, eh? Well, I'll protect you 
 
 you needn't tremble so. That was a pretty sharp 
 flash, though enough to scare anybody. This is 
 a romantic sort of night for a lover's tryst. There 
 
 there!" 
 
 " Loose me ! " she panted as she struggled to 
 free herself from his brutal embrace. 
 
 " Let me have a kiss from those sweet lips, first," 
 he replied as he bent over her. 
 
 " How dare you ! Loose me at once ! " And, at 
 the words, she dealt him a resounding slap upon 
 the face. 
 
 " You she devil ! " Wallace exclaimed as he re-
 
 23 8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 leased his hold upon her. " Just wait I'll pay 
 you for that blow ! " 
 
 By this time the fury of the storm was upon 
 them. The lightning flashed incessantly ; the thun- 
 der boomed and rolled ceaselessly; and the rain, 
 driven by the stiff gale, descended in unbroken 
 sheets that, falling upon the foliage of the trees, 
 roared like a miniature cataract. Hester was thor- 
 oughly frightened at the storm, and by the actions 
 of her half-savage companion. A dozen times, with- 
 in as many seconds, she wished she had not come. 
 She would have attempted to return, but she did not 
 dare to brave the fury of the elements. Red Wal- 
 lace divined her thoughts, apparently, for after a 
 few moments' silence, he came close to her and said 
 laughingly : 
 
 " It's all right, little woman ; I didn't mean any- 
 thing by my rude words and actions. You jumped 
 right into my arms and I couldn't help but hold you 
 for a little while, you know. It isn't often that I've 
 so good a chance to hug a pretty young lady." 
 And again he laughed. 
 
 Hester made no reply to his lame apology ; so he 
 proceeded : 
 
 " Come, stand up closer to the tree-trunk or you'll 
 get wet ; the water's beginning to drip through the 
 branches. Now, let's have a complete understanding 
 Heavens ! What a crash ! Come nearer, or you 
 won't be able to hear me I'll not lay hands on
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 239 
 
 you. Out with it now. What do you want me to 
 do?" 
 
 " I've told you," she answered, as she leaned 
 against the great tree, and drew a deep breath. 
 
 " You want this Marie Fontanelle killed? " 
 
 " Yes ; or removed beyond my cousin's reach. I 
 want him to suffer torment the torment of irrep- 
 arable loss and never-ending uncertainty. If you 
 . kill her, he mustn't know she is dead he musn't 
 recover the body. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," was the quiet rejoinder. And he was 
 silent for some moments. Presently he asked : 
 
 " How would it suit you to have her stolen by the 
 Indians?" 
 
 " Wouldn't he follow her and bring her back ? " 
 
 " Not if / have her stolen." 
 
 " You are sure? " 
 
 " Absolutely. Besides, she would suffer as much 
 as he." 
 
 How cleverly he led her! He knew the prospect 
 of her rival's suffering would appeal to the evil side 
 of Hester's nature. 
 
 " That's what I want ! " she cried eagerly. " Do 
 that do it soon and you shall be amply reward- 
 ed." 
 
 " In what way?" 
 
 "In what way! I have wealth gold; it shall 
 be yours to command." 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 " How much will I give you?"
 
 240 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " A thousand pounds." 
 
 " It would take that much to procure the services 
 of the Indians." 
 
 " Two thousand pounds." 
 
 He shook his head as he shifted his position to 
 avoid the water that was dripping upon him. The 
 storm was passing and the rain had settled to a 
 steady downpour. Hester could not see her com- 
 panion's gesture she could barely discern the out- 
 line of his burly figure ; but his silence irritated her. 
 
 " What do you mean what do you want ? " she 
 cried sharply. " Name your price." 
 
 " You won't pay it." 
 
 "I will!" 
 
 " My price is your estate and your hand ! " 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " You heard what I said." 
 
 " Never ! " Her voice was little more than a 
 hoarse whisper. 
 
 " I told you you wouldn't pay the price. Very 
 well ; it's all one to me. You'd better run home now 
 
 I'm going." 
 
 He made a move to leave her; but she fiercely 
 gripped his arm and gasped: 
 
 " No no ! Don't go wait. I will do anything 
 
 anything. I'll sell my immortal soul to pay you ! 
 When can you have this this girl stolen ? " 
 
 " As soon as I can bring a few Indians here, and
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 241 
 
 catch her beyond the outskirts of the village." 
 
 " Can't you do it alone ? " 
 
 " I can steal her, but I can't escape with her ; I 
 must have help. The settlers would overtake me 
 and recover her." 
 
 " It would be an easy matter to kill her." 
 
 " Very easy." 
 
 " No ! I don't want that done she wouldn't lead 
 a life of suffering and hardship then. I want her to 
 live to weep her baby eyes out to feel the tor- 
 ture that the savages know so well how to inflict. 
 She shall be made captive by the Indians." 
 
 " And you're ready to pay the price ? " he ques- 
 tioned, a suppressed chuckle in his tone. 
 
 "Now?" 
 
 " No ; when the job is done." 
 
 " / will pay the price ! " 
 
 " Very well ; but remember that I'll not be tricked. 
 If you attempt to evade any part of the debt you 
 know what I mean I'll have your life ! " 
 
 He caught her by the shoulders and held her so 
 firmly in his cruel grasp, that she winced. 
 
 " Don't ! " she almost screamed, from pain and 
 fright. " You hurt me ! I'll do what I've promised. 
 Do you want any money now? I have some at the 
 cabin I can get it for you." 
 
 He released his hold. 
 
 " No. I'll call on you when I need it. I want you 
 to remember your promise, that's all. When the 
 
 job's done we'll have a settlement of our accounts. 
 16
 
 242 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 I'm to get the redskins to kidnap the girl, and carry 
 her beyond the chance of rescue ; you're to marry me 
 and make me master of old George Lovelace's exten- 
 sive plantation in the Shenandoah valley. Is that 
 the bargain ? " 
 
 " Yes," was the faint reply. Then quickly : " But 
 how do you know I'm George Lovelace's daugh- 
 ter?" 
 
 " I know it that's enough. I'd accompany you 
 to the cabin, but it's better for us not to be seen to- 
 gether. You shall hear from me in due time ; until 
 then, leave everything to me."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A MONTH slipped by. Paul Graydon and the other 
 members of the company formed for the col- 
 onization of the middle Muskingum, labored assid- 
 uously. They built boats for the transportation of 
 their chattels ; cleared a few acres of ground ; re- 
 paired a cabin upon the site of their proposed settle- 
 ment, that had been the home of some adventurous 
 squatter, ere the land came into possession of the 
 Ohio Company ; and erected another cabin and a 
 blockhouse. Then they were ready to transfer 
 themselves and goods to Big Bottom. 
 
 Marie was still making her home with the family 
 of Governor St. Clair ; and she and Louise were in- 
 separable companions. As the days passed and no 
 harm befell her, the French girl ceased to worry 
 over the presence of Hester Lovelace. Her nervous- 
 ness wore away ; and her old gayety reasserted 
 itself. 
 
 In conversation with her lover one evening she 
 said: 
 
 " I was weak and foolish, Paul, to imagine your 
 cousin meant me harm. I've met her several times 
 since you've been going to Big Bottom; and she 
 
 (243)
 
 244 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 pays me no attention whatever. Of course, I've fol- 
 lowed your advice I don't venture beyond the vil- 
 lage alone or go out after sunset. Hester appears 
 very sad and lonely. I really pity her." 
 
 Paul was pleased to hear his sweetheart speak as 
 she did. He was beginning to believe he was unduly 
 exercised in regard to her safety. He himself had 
 met Hester more than once; and she had ignored 
 his presence and passed on. Paul replied: 
 
 " You speak like your brave little self, dear one ; 
 and I rejoice to hear you. We expect to move the 
 first of September ; but there is much to do to make 
 the place really habitable. We shall experience a 
 winter of hardship and discomfort. With your con- 
 sent, I shall leave you here until spring. I've talked 
 over the matter with Isaac and Nancy, and, they 
 heartily endorse my views. You'll be much more 
 comfortable here ; for Nancy will be the only woman 
 among us, and we shall have but poor accommoda- 
 tions. By next spring, we shall have a cabin of our 
 own." And he smiled. 
 
 " Louise has asked me to stay with her until 
 spring, but " she began. 
 
 " Then you'll stay, will you not ? " he eagerly in- 
 terrupted. 
 
 " I don't want to be away from you" she mur- 
 mured, laying her golden head upon his shoulder. 
 
 " We shall see each other often, sweetheart," he 
 said reassuringly ; " some one must procure and for- 
 ward supplies to the others, and I'll assume that
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 245 
 
 duty. I'll live here with Gumbo ; and make frequent 
 trips to and from Big Bottom." 
 
 She laughed : " You've changed your plans great- 
 ly, Paul." 
 ' "Havel?" 
 
 " Yes. A few weeks ago you were all anxiety 
 to remove me from Marietta; now you're just as 
 anxious to leave me here. Why is it ? " 
 
 " For the reason that I feel now you will be more 
 comfortable and more nearly secure from harm in 
 Marietta than at Big Bottom. Here there's little 
 danger from an Indian attack. I cannot say as 
 much for our new settlement." 
 
 A few days later Gumbo and a companion were 
 in the woods, searching for one of Governor St. 
 Clair's horses that had strayed. They returned in 
 the dusk of the evening, and announced that they had 
 seen Indians skulking in the underbrush a mile from 
 the village. The news spread rapidly and caused 
 anxiety and alarm. The next morning a number 
 of settlers and soldiers went out to look for the In- 
 dians ; but could discover no trace of them. The men 
 returned, declaring that Gumbo and his companion 
 had willfully deceived the people. The negro stub- 
 bornly shook his head and said : 
 
 " I reckons dis nigger knows a red debil w'en he 
 sees one I does ! " 
 
 "Where did you see them?" General Putnam 
 asked. 
 
 Gumbo described the place.
 
 246 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " How many were there? " 
 
 " Six 'r seben." 
 
 " What were they doing? " 
 
 " Jes lollin' in de dead leabes under de brush, like 
 so many hogs." 
 
 " Did they see you ? " 
 
 " I doesn't know, sah." 
 
 " Did they have any weapons ? " 
 
 " I didn't wait to see, sah ; I jes dusted right outen 
 dar!" 
 
 Gumbo's companion was questioned, and confirm- 
 ed all that the black had said. General Putnam 
 stroked his shaven cheek, and remarked to the group 
 of citizens around him : 
 
 " I'm convinced that these men have told the 
 truth. They saw Indians. The savages are lurking 
 about the village, bent on murder and pillage. Let 
 every man be on his guard. I'm expecting an out- 
 break at any time and this small band may be the 
 advance guard of a large party." 
 
 Then seeing a number of the Big Bottom colon- 
 ists among his auditors, he turned to them and of- 
 fered them this sage advice : 
 
 " Boys, you'd better defer your removal to Big 
 Bottom until next spring. You're brave and self- 
 reliant ; but you're young and inexperienced. Isaac 
 Meeks is the only one in your company who has 
 reached middle age; and he knows little of Indian 
 warfare. Take my advice you'll rue it if you 
 don't. An Indian outbreak is coming; and your
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 247 
 
 settlement will be exposed and practically defense- 
 less." 
 
 Colonels Sproat and Stacey and other prominent 
 men joined with General Putnam, in his efforts to 
 persuade the young men to defer their project; 
 but to no purpose. 
 
 Hester had heard nothing from Red Wallace, 
 since their interview the night of the thunderstorm. 
 At times, she hoped he had abandoned all thought of 
 kidnaping Marie, and had left the country never to 
 return. At other times she was furiously angry that 
 he did not put in an appearance, and stormed that 
 her act of vengeance was so long delayed. She 
 shuddered when she thought of the agreement that 
 she had entered into with the stranger of whom she 
 knew nothing; and marveled at her own depravity. 
 But she rejoiced when she contemplated the suffer- 
 ing and sorrow that would fall to the lot of the 
 lovers ; and had no care for her own future. Torn 
 by conflicting thoughts and emotions revenge was 
 still her dominant impulse. 
 
 When she heard the report that Indians had been 
 seen in the immediate neighborhood of the village, 
 she knew what it meant. Wallace had kept his prom- 
 ise. Her eyes shone, and the cruel and relentless 
 look upon her face, which had become habitual, was 
 intensified. She clapped her slim, white hands; 
 laughed and cried hysterically : 
 
 " Today tomorrow and the blow will fall ! 
 She will be torn from his bosom and hurried away
 
 248 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 never to return. I shall see and gloat over his an- 
 guish of spirit. He'll know I am his Nemesis but 
 he'll be able to do nothing, to prove nothing. To- 
 morrow the day after and the blow will fall ! " 
 
 But the blow did not fall. Instead, her accomplice 
 met her one morning when she had wandered be- 
 yond the confines of the village. He told her that 
 he had failed signally. She found fault with him, 
 and he returned angrily: 
 
 " I've done all any man could do. I went to a 
 hunting party of Delawares in camp upon the Tus- 
 carawas, and persuaded eight of them to aid me in 
 kidnaping the girl. I promised them gold and plun- 
 der if it could be obtained. For two weeks we 
 have lain in the woods and watched the settlement. 
 But the yellow-haired miss refused to walk into our 
 trap. She kept among the cabins and did not ven- 
 ture abroad after nightfall. That nigger, Gumbo, 
 has dogged her heels all the time. The Delawares 
 got discouraged and left. The plan has failed ; but 
 the redskins must be paid. I want some gold. I 
 daren't break my promise to them." 
 
 " Not a grain shall you have until Marie Fonta- 
 nelle is a captive among the savages far beyond the 
 chance of rescue." 
 
 Barely were the words out of her mouth, ere he 
 caught her by the throat and thrust her against a 
 sapling that stood near. Her features grew dark 
 and her eyes bloodshot ; but he did not loose his hold 
 upon her.
 
 Iff THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 249 
 
 " You stubborn wench ! " he cried hoarsely. " Do 
 you want me to choke the life out of you? Will 
 you, or will you not, give me that money ? " 
 
 She essayed to speak ; but a gurgling, inarticulate 
 sound alone came from her lips. He released her; 
 and she sank upon the ground, speechless and help- 
 less. When she recovered her breath she gasped : 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " All right ! " he replied. " Here, let me seat you 
 upon this stone. Now, no more kicking over the 
 traces, my fine filly, and we'll get along first-rate. 
 Listen to me. I've tried and failed ; but I'm not yet 
 done not by a long shot. But I'm not to be fooled 
 with you'll find that out and when I set my 
 head to do a thing I never give up. Do you follow 
 me?" 
 
 " Y-e-s," was the murmured answer. 
 
 " Well, this cousin of yours and a number of oth- 
 ers are forming a settlement about forty miles up the 
 Muskingum. They'll remove the first of next 
 month. I overheard some of them talking as they 
 descended the river, a few nights ago. This Fonta- 
 nelle girl will accompany them, or will join them, 
 within a few months, at the farthest. Isaac Meeks 
 is of the company. Do you understand? " 
 
 Her head nodded, and her lips moved; but no 
 sound came from them. He resumed : 
 
 " It'll be easy to bring enough redskins to attack 
 and destroy the settlement, and carry the girl into 
 captivity much easier than to steal her from here."
 
 250 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " So long so long ! " she whispered. 
 
 " What's that you say ? " he demanded. 
 
 " It's long so long to wait ! " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose it seems a long time to you ; 
 you're so full of touch-and-go. But long or short, 
 it's the best we can do ; and there's no use kicking. 
 I want no more objections raised to my plans, nor re- 
 fusals offered, to my demands I won't have it. 
 You're to bring me fifty pounds in gold, this even- 
 ing, to pay the Indians I brought here. I'll follow 
 them and reward them ; I can't afford to do anything 
 else, for I'll want their services again. Fifty pounds 
 is all I need for the present. You'll bring it? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied listlessly. 
 
 " Now, you are coming 'round ! " he laughed. 
 " You'll make a model wife one of these fine days. 
 I've been away from you a month. As your accepted 
 lover and prospective husband, I'll take just one 
 sweet kiss at parting." 
 
 He bent over her and pressed his lips to hers, be- 
 fore she was aware of his intention. Contrary to 
 what he had expected, she did not fly into a passion. 
 Instead, she arose and said quietly, sadly : 
 
 " If you are through, with your violence and in- 
 sults, I'll return to the village." 
 
 As she turned her back upon him and walked 
 away, he stared after her in blank surprise, mutter- 
 ing: 
 
 " Meek as Moses ! Completely cowed ! I thought 
 I knew how to tame the haughty jade. I'll have no
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 251 
 
 further trouble with her now ; and, in the end, I'll 
 be owner of old George Lovelace's wealth." 
 
 He slapped his thigh and chuckled as he moved 
 into the depths of the forest. 
 
 With lagging footsteps and bowed head, Hester 
 walked toward the cabin where she lodged. Her 
 proud defiance had changed to abject subjection; 
 and her look of cruel and relentless hate to one of 
 
 haggard hopelessness. 
 
 ******* 
 
 The company organized for the purpose of estab- 
 lishing a colony at Big Bottom, consisted of thirty- 
 six members. One thing after another hindered 
 their preparations for departure, and they did not re- 
 move until about the middle of September, seven- 
 teen hundred and ninety. Only about twenty-five 
 members went to establish the colony, and brave the 
 dangers of a winter upon the middle Muskingum. 
 Of this number, several soon grew disgusted at the 
 hard fare, and returned to Marietta. Isaac Meeks 
 and family, John Stacey and Paul Graydon were 
 among those who embarked their all upon one of 
 the narrow barges, and pulled away for the land of 
 promise. 
 
 Big Bottom was situated upon the east bank of 
 the Muskingum, about forty miles above the mouth 
 of the river and two miles below the mouth of Bald 
 Eagle Creek, where stood the lodge of Silverheels. 
 The plain, or " bottom," stretched along the shore 
 of the stream, and consisted of level and rolling
 
 252 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 land covered with a heavy growth of trees. It was 
 three-fourths of a mile wide and five miles long, and 
 was the largest tract of valley land between Mariet- 
 ta and Duncan's Falls. The new settlement was 
 sixteen miles from Waterford, and about the same 
 distance from Wolf Creek Mills. 
 
 The settlers had three buildings two log cabins 
 and a blockhouse. The latter was two stories in 
 height, with walls of green beech logs, and punch- 
 eon doors and floors. It stood about fifty yards 
 from the bank of the stream, in the center of a small 
 clearing. The cabins were makeshift affairs of un- 
 hewn logs. One stood a short distance above the 
 blockhouse ; the other, a short distance below it. A 
 few yards above the clearing, a small ctream put in- 
 to the river; forming a broad and shallow ravine; 
 and, back of the open space cleared by the settlers' 
 axes, the level land rose gradually toward the base 
 of the hills three-fourths of a mile away. 
 
 Isaac Meeks was the oldest man in the colony ; his 
 wife, the solitary woman; and his two children 
 Johnnie and Annie were the only persons of ten- 
 der age. The other settlers were young, unmarried 
 men, with the exception of James Batten, who was 
 a middle-aged bachelor. As handed down by local 
 tradition, the names of the members of the little 
 band, that thus braved the perils of the trackless 
 wilds, were: Francis and Isaac Choate, Thomas 
 Shaw and James Batten occupying the upper 
 cabin ; Asa and Eleazar Bullard living in the low-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 253 
 
 er one ; and Isaac Meeks, wife, and two children ; 
 John Stacey and his brother, Philip ; Ezra Putnam, 
 John Camp, Zebulon Throop, Jonathan Farewell, 
 James Couch, William James and John Clark 
 having quarters in the blockhouse. There were a 
 number of other " associates " of the company ; but 
 they did not have a permanent residence at Big Bot- 
 tom. Paul Graydon was one of these. 
 
 The year being so far advanced, the borderers 
 could do little more than supply their temporary 
 needs. Isaac Meeks, John Stacey, and William 
 James scoured the woods for game, while the oth- 
 ers fished, or worked at clearing the land. They pro- 
 cured their corn and salt from Marietta, The form- 
 er they prepared for use, by pounding in a stone 
 handmill, or by having it ground into coarse meal, 
 at the mills upon Wolf Creek, sixteen miles away. 
 
 The blockhouse contained but two rooms, the one 
 over the other ; and afforded crude and scant accom- 
 modations. The men slept upon skins and feather 
 ticks spread in front of the great fireplace on the 
 first floor, while Nancy and the children occupied 
 a bed upstairs. Of comfort there was little of 
 luxury, none; but of freedom, novelty and adven- 
 ture, an abundance. 
 
 No pen can portray the life led by this band of 
 hardy pioneers in the heart of the American wilder- 
 ness. They arose with the sun, and with the sun re- 
 tired to rest. Their manners and speech were rude 
 and unpolished ; but their hearts were brave and ten-
 
 254 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 der. Their fare was coarse and homely, consisting 
 mainly of cornbread and game ; but it was nourish- 
 ing in quality and plentiful in quantity. They saw 
 the forest leaves change from green to gold and 
 crimson ; and they garnered the frost-browned nuts 
 that fell from the boughs of the shagbark-hickory, 
 the walnut and the butternut. The first snow fell 
 its unspotted whiteness contrasting strangely with 
 the gray of the tree trunks, the brown of fallen 
 leaves, and the blue-green of the water; the set- 
 tlers battened the crevices in their dwelling-places, 
 and piled the firewood high about their doors. Win- 
 ter came in earnest the snow lay deep in the forest, 
 and the Moose Eye shivered under its heavy coat of 
 ice; the colonists piled the wood higher in the 
 yawning fireplace, and, eagerly sniffing the tooth- 
 some vapors of hot roast-turkey and corn-pone, 
 pulled their stools around the board and thanked 
 God for the bountiful repast that was spread before 
 them. 
 
 In the midst of wild beasts and savages, sixteen 
 miles from their nearest neighbors, and forty miles 
 from a doctor, they lay down and slept as soundly 
 as though within a walled city, with a cordon of 
 police around them. But they made the mistake of 
 not erecting a palisade around their buildings, and 
 placing a sentry each night. 
 
 Paul Graydon was apprehensive of an Indian at- 
 tack; and each time he came to the settlement he 
 begged his companions to be watchful. But they
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 255 
 
 laughed at him, and scouted the idea of an attack 
 in winter. Paul and Stacey went over to Silver- 
 heels' cabin and asked him to join the colonists ; but 
 he refused. His answer was : 
 
 " I am both paleface and red man and I am 
 neither. I shall live alone." 
 
 " Do you think there is any danger of the Indians 
 attacking our little settlement? " Paul inquired. 
 
 " The Dela wares and Wyandots are squaws 
 they like not the deep snows of winter," the Shaw- 
 nee replied contemptuously. Then with a sweep of 
 his hand he concluded : " But their burning desire 
 for scalps and plunder may warm their feet and send 
 them forth. The palefaces should bar their doors 
 and sleep with one eye open." 
 
 " Will you not warn rny people, if you know of 
 their danger?" Graydon asked very earnestly. 
 
 " Ugh ! Silverheels has not forgotten his friends ; 
 he will be a watch-dog. He will bark if the Dela- 
 wares draw near."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 LATE in November, Johnnie Meeks fell ill of lung- 
 fever. His mother had more than she could 
 do to attend him and cook for those directly depend- 
 ent upon her. When Paul made his next visit to 
 Big Bottom, she said : 
 
 " Mister Paul, I want you to go right back to 
 Marietta an' bring my gal up here ; I can't get along 
 without 'er, nohow." 
 
 " But," Paul objected, " she may not want to come. 
 Can't you take care of Johnnie yourselves you 
 and Isaac ? " 
 
 " Isaac ! " she snorted contemptuously. " He's of 
 no earthly 'count in sickness jest sets 'round an' 
 smokes his pipe an' cracks his fingers. Might as 
 well 'ave a wooden man, fer all the good he is at such 
 times. Johnnie's awful sick, an' he's got to be took 
 care of. He cries an' cries fer Marie to come ; an' 
 she's got to come that's all ther' is of it. As fer 
 her not wantin' to come, that don't make no differ- 
 'nce. Tell 'er I said she had to come. She'll want 
 to come, though, when she knows I need 'er, 'spe- 
 cially when you tell 'er Johnnie wants 'er. She 
 thinks a pow'rful sight o' Johnnie. You go right 
 down an' git 'er, Mister Paul." 
 (256)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 257 
 
 " It's very cold," Paul persisted. " The river is 
 frozen ; and I don't know how I could bring her. 
 She couldn't skate so far." 
 
 " You can put 'er on a sled an' push 'er that's 
 how. You can do it easy enough, if you want to. I 
 won't rest easy a minute till she's here." 
 
 " Nor let any one else rest," the young man mut- 
 tered under his breath. But he replied discreetly: 
 " She's safe and comfortable there. I don't like the 
 idea of bringing her here until spring. By that time 
 I hope to have a cabin erected and arrangements 
 made for her reception. I'll marry her in Marietta 
 before I bring her to Big Bottom " 
 
 " But you ain't married yit, an' she don't belong 
 to you," Nancy returned, with flushed face and 
 flashing eyes. She was growing angry at Paul's 
 persistency. She continued : 
 
 " She's my gal till you marry 'er an' I want 'er 
 here; an' I'm a-goin' to 'ave my way 'bout it, too! " 
 
 " Very well," he replied hastily, " I'll inform her 
 of your desire, and she may decide for herself what 
 she'll do. I don't wish to run counter to your wish- 
 es: only, I feel she would be safer there than 
 here " 
 
 " It's safe enough fer the rest of us here ; an' it's 
 safe enough fer her. Talk o' safety ! Great safety 
 ther' is in Marietta, fer 'er right ther' with that 
 cousin o' yours. I wonder she hain't stuck a knife 
 into Marie, afore this. No, Mister Paul, she's my 
 gal yit. When you an' her's married, you can settle 
 17
 
 258 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 y'r own affairs. I won't say a word. But till that 
 time, I mean to 'ave a say 'bout some things ! " 
 
 The next forenoon, Paul skated to Marietta ; and, 
 as soon as he had transacted his business, called 
 upon Marie at Campus Martius. He informed her 
 of Johnnie's illness and Nancy's desire. 
 
 " How can I get there? " were Marie's first words. 
 
 " You'll go, then ? " be returned, a little surprised 
 at her readiness. 
 
 " Yes, I'll go ; Uncle Isaac and Aunt Nancy have 
 been kind to me, in many ways. Of course my 
 aunt is a chronic scold, and very disagreeable at 
 times. But she's in trouble, and I must go to her. 
 With all her rough ways, she's kind-hearted. She 
 would do as much for me. Is Johnnie very sick ? " 
 
 " He appears to be." 
 
 " Wouldn't it be well to take Dr. True with us ? " 
 
 Paul answered smilingly : " I don't think that it 
 is necessary. You'll prove the better physician of 
 the two; Nancy informed me that the little fellow 
 was calling for you in his delirium." 
 
 The tears came into the girl's eyes, as she replied : 
 
 "Then I can't think of refusing to go. Should 
 he die, I could never forgive myself. When can we 
 be off and how can we go?" 
 
 " I'll fashion a small sled upon which you can 
 ride. I can skate and push you. We'll start tomor- 
 row morning." 
 
 " Won't that be hard work for you, Paul? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 259 
 
 " No, indeed," was his laughing reply. " I shall 
 skim you over the ice like a bird." 
 
 " And there's no danger? " 
 
 He looked grave as he replied : " There is no 
 danger in making the journey; but I fear you won't 
 be safe at Big Bottom. I've a premonition that if 
 you go there, some great calamity will befall us. 
 The situation is exposed ; and the men are heedless 
 of danger. I fear an Indian attack and at a time 
 that I shan't be there to defend you. Don't go. Let 
 me say to your aunt that you've decided to remain 
 in Marietta, until spring." 
 
 She gently patted his bronzed cheek, and said : 
 
 " You're morbid, Paul ; no harm will befall me. 
 I must go I must do what I feel to be my duty, 
 at all hazard. Let's brood over remote and possible 
 dangers, no longer. I'll be ready to start in the 
 morning." 
 
 " You'll return at the end of a few weeks as 
 soon as the boy's better ? " 
 
 " No, I'll go to stay. There'll be no need of mak- 
 ing a return journey. Soon you'll be at Big Bottom, 
 all the time ; and I shall be there with you. I can 
 endure the crowded blockhouse for a few months 
 until we have a cabin of our own." 
 
 And she blushed prettily. 
 
 Paul felt much more cheerful as he left the quar- 
 ters of the St Glair family and went to his own 
 room in the northeast blockhouse. His conversation 
 with Marie had dispelled much of his foreboding.
 
 260 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 His sweetheart's presence invariably had the effect 
 of clearing his mental sky, of the clouds of discour- 
 agement. 
 
 He found Gumbo repairing a splint-bottomed 
 chair and giving a part of his attention to a pot of 
 beans that bubbled and simmered upon the coals. 
 The negro looked up at Paul's entrance, his sable 
 countenance shining with delight, and cried: 
 
 " I's pow'ful glad to see you dis mornin', Marss 
 Paul I is. I had de mos' distressful an' veracious 
 dream las' night dat eber was. I dremp dat dem 
 scalpagin Injin debils had 'tacked de Big Bottom; 
 an' killed an' massacreed ebery libin' soul in de 
 settlement but you." 
 
 "And I escaped, did I, Gumbo?" Paul replied, 
 seating himself upon a stool and warming his feet 
 at the fire. 
 
 " Yes, dat's w'at troubles me, Marse Paul." 
 
 " Explain." 
 
 " You knows dat dreams goes by c'ntraries, Marse 
 Paul. If I dreams dat you's killed, den you's not 
 killed ; an' if I dreams dat you's not killed, den you's 
 killed." 
 
 " Is that so? Well, you dreamed that there was a 
 massacre, so there'll be no massacre if your theo- 
 ry's the true one." 
 
 "How's dat, Marse Paul?" 
 
 Paul repeated his statement. The negro's smile 
 relaxed into a broad grin, as he answered : 
 
 " Dat's so hadn't elucidated de subjeck in dat
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 261 
 
 way. Dar's nuffin' like habin' a good head fo' con- 
 fusin' yo'se'f." 
 
 Graydon told his black companion of Johnnie's 
 illness, and the change that it had worked in his 
 Paul's plans. 
 
 " An' is dis nigger to go, too, Marse Paul ? " 
 Gumbo asked. 
 
 "No, you're to stay here until spring. I shall be 
 with you a part of the time. When spring opens, 
 we'll be in a cabin of our own at Big Bottom. With 
 Prince to draw the plow and you to help me in the 
 clearing " 
 
 " An' de purty little gal to cook de co'n-pone an' 
 meat " Gumbo interjected. 
 
 " We shall get on very nicely," the other com- 
 pleted. Then both laughed heartily at the prospect. 
 
 " How is Hester comporting herself? " was Paul's 
 next question. 
 
 A look of sadness overspread the darky's face, as 
 he replied: 
 
 " She doesn't 'pear to be up to no debilment, 
 Marse Paul; she jes' rummages 'round froo de set- 
 tlement, like a cold shadder. I pities her I does. 
 She's as thin an' white as paper, an' she hacks an' 
 coughs all de blessed time. Poor gal ! She looks 
 mo' an' mo' like de ol' missus, eb'ry day." 
 
 " I wish I could speak with her," Paul said mus- 
 ingly ; " and advise her to return to Virginia. This 
 climate is too severe for her, and " 
 
 " It wouldn't do no good fo' you to say a word,
 
 262 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Marse Paul; she'd jes' fly into a tantrum she's 
 like de ol' missus in dat way." 
 
 " Yes, I know. Well, I must be off to prepare 
 for the trip. I'll be back in an hour for dinner. By 
 the way, I want you to make a small sled this after- 
 noon, on which I can convey Marie and her things 
 to Big Bottom." 
 
 " All right, Marse Paul," was the cheery answer 
 Graydon heard, as he passed through the door. 
 
 At sunrise next morning, Marie bade a tearful 
 farewell to Louise, and dejectedly followed her lov- 
 er through the western gate of Campus Martius. 
 On reaching the river bank, they found Gumbo 
 awaiting with everything in readiness. Marie seat- 
 ed herself upon the diminutive but comfortable ve- 
 hicle ; Paul tucked the fur robes around her, strap- 
 ped the skates upon his feet, and, grasping the 
 wooden handles of the sled, pushed away up the 
 river. 
 
 " Goodby, Marse Paul an' Miss M'rie ! " the poor 
 black shouted, the tears in his eyes. " Don't let de red 
 debils steal de purty little gal, Marse Paul ! " 
 
 " Goodby, Gumbo goodby 1 " floated back to 
 him, upon the crisp air. 
 
 It was a bright, cold morning. Hoar-frost hung 
 upon the bare branches of the trees and sifted down 
 upon the travelers, as they passed, like downy feath- 
 ers from a fairy's wing. The clear, green ice boom- 
 ed and cracked as they flew over it, causing Marie 
 to break forth in bird-like exclamations of alarm,
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 263 
 
 at which Paul laughed immoderately. Never had he 
 seen her so beautiful. The keen air lent a heighten- 
 ed tint to her cheeks. The morning sunbeams turn- 
 ed her hair to rivulets of molten gold ; and her bright 
 eyes were brighter than was their wont. Inspired 
 by the exhilaration of the rapid, gliding motion, she 
 babbled and laughed incessantly, until Paul's brain 
 was in a whirl. Wrapped in the billowy fur-robes, 
 and seated coquettishly upon the flying sled, she was 
 the living, breathing reincarnation of some ancient 
 queen of the Northland. Is it a cause for wonder, 
 that he was willing to cast aside worldly wealth and 
 bury himself in the heart of the western wilderness, 
 to win her? 
 
 As they passed a point some ten miles above Ma- 
 rietta, a man peering from the mouth of a shallow, 
 rocky cavern, that overhung the river, drew back in- 
 voluntarily and muttered to himself : 
 
 " Gray don and his sweetheart, or I'm a spotless 
 saint!" 
 
 He watched the couple until they turned the bend 
 and disappeared from sight. Then, grimacing and 
 chuckling, he stamped out the embers that burned 
 upon the rocky floor, caught up his rifle, and, de- 
 scending a steep and winding path among the rocks 
 and bushes, reached the river bank and stepped out 
 upon the glassy ice. 
 
 "Man's extremity is the devil's opportunity!" 
 he parodied, as he set off in the direction of Mariet- 
 ta. I was almost ready to give up in despair and
 
 264 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 return to the comforts of my cabin on the Tuscara- 
 was. By all the gods above and below ! I've had a 
 cold and comfortless time of it for the last few days 
 cooped up in that den, with a little dried meat and 
 chill air for a diet and the damp rock for a bed. It'll 
 take a month of sunshine to thaw me out. I'm cold 
 to the marrow of my backbone. Ha ! ha ! Thus is 
 patience rewarded. Won't the charming Hester be 
 glad to hear the good tidings. Red Wallace, your 
 luck is returning." 
 
 The next moment a scowl corrugated his low 
 brows; and, with an oath, he hissed between his 
 strong fang-like teeth : 
 
 "I may be 'wrong after all; perhaps they're out 
 for amusement, and are not on their way to Big Bot- 
 tom. Oh, if I had had half a dozen of my Dela- 
 wares and Wyandots at my back ! Success perches 
 upon the banner of him who watches and prays ; 
 and I've been watching and praying for many 
 moons. It may be the fascinating Miss Lovelace has 
 grown tired, and returned to her broad acres in Vir- 
 ginia. No matter; I can follow her. The prize is 
 almost within my grasp. I don't admire her temper 
 overmuch ; but I'll tame her. Curse this slavish 
 walking one slides about like a drop of water on 
 a hot griddle ! " 
 
 A number of young people were skating upon the 
 Muskingum, in front of Campus Martius. As Red 
 Wallace passed among them, he asked of a group of 
 boys near the shore :
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 265 
 
 " Who was that young man and young woman 
 that went up the river an hour or two ago ? " 
 
 The lads shook their heads negatively, except one 
 who looked up from the skate that he was fastening, 
 and returned: 
 
 " Was the woman on a sled, and the man pushing 
 her?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It must 'ave been Mr. Graydon and Miss Fonta- 
 nelle. I didn't see them ; but as I came down to the 
 river I met the negro, Gumbo, who told me Mr. 
 Graydon had just started for the new settlement, 
 Big Bottom, with Miss Fontanelle on a sled." 
 
 " Are they coming back on the ice ? " Red Wal- 
 lace asked carelessly. 
 
 " They're not coming back at all," answered the 
 lad working industriously at his refractory skate 
 straps ; " at least that's what the darky said. He told 
 me Miss Fontanelle's going up to Big Bottom to live. 
 Gumbo was down in the mouth because they had left 
 him here alone." 
 
 " Well, it's no concern of mine," Wallace remark- 
 ed, as he sauntered away from the group ; "I 
 thought if they were coming back on the ice, they'd 
 find it pretty soft by tomorrow." 
 
 He left the river and went directly to the cabin 
 where Hester staid. His vigorous rap upon the 
 heavy door brought a prompt response from the in- 
 terior, the savage growl of a dog. Wallace waited 
 a few moments ; then, turning away, grumbled :
 
 266 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Nobody at home. Where in the plague can that 
 minx be ? Hello ! Here's another crowd skating at 
 the Point. Perhaps she's among them." 
 
 He walked down to the shore and found Hester 
 standing watching the skaters. She was wrapped in 
 heavy furs, but her features looked pinched and 
 blue. 
 
 " I know why you come," were her first words ; 
 " but we cannot talk here. You know where I'm 
 staying ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Very well ; the others are away from the house. 
 Go there I'll join you in a few minutes." 
 
 " But there's a dog there," he objected. " I went 
 to the cabin to find you; the beast growled when 
 I knocked upon the door." 
 
 A sneer curled her thin lips as she replied : 
 
 " You are indeed brave and fearless ! The dog 
 is chained to the back wall ; he can't harm you." 
 
 Wallace made no reply to her cutting taunt, out, 
 turning on his heel, proceeded to the cabin. The 
 dog a huge mongrel rolled his blood-rimmed 
 eyes, tugged at his chain, and showed his white 
 fangs, in a foam-dripping snarl. Finding that he 
 could not reach the intruder, the wolfish animal 
 dropped upon the floor ; and, resting his head upon 
 his paws, watched the man and growled sullenly. 
 
 The cabin was better furnished than most of the 
 others in the village. It contained two beds, a chest 
 of drawers, a table, chairs, and other articles of
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 267 
 
 household furniture. The floor was scoured to 
 snowy whiteness ; and the hearth upon which smoul- 
 dered an expiring fire was free from litter. Red 
 Wallace took this in at a glance. Then he seated 
 himself to await the coming of Miss Lovelace. 
 
 " Who lives here with you? " he inquired, when 
 she entered a few minutes later. 
 
 " Mr. and Mrs. Gosney," she responded, as she 
 drew a chair up to the hearth. 
 
 "Where are they?" 
 
 " They went to Belpre this morning." 
 
 " There's no danger of our being seen or heard, 
 then?" 
 
 " None." And she coughed and shivered. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ? " he cried half an- 
 grily. " You cough like a person nearly dead of con- 
 sumption ; and you look like a shadow. I never saw 
 such a change in any one in my life." 
 
 " I am not well I've contracted a heavy cold," 
 was all the reply she made to his brutal remark. 
 
 " Well, you want to get back to Virginia as soon 
 as you can, or you won't live six months. But, now 
 to business. Did you think I had abandoned our 
 project, and was never coming back?" 
 
 " I didn't know," she replied listlessly, as she 
 stirred the coals and laid on a few sticks of wood. 
 
 " Maybe you didn't care ! " he cried sharply. 
 
 She held her blue-veined hands over the blaze, 
 pulled her fur wrap more closely around her should- 
 ers, and murmured, as though talking to herself :
 
 268 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Yes, I wanted you to come back. I have not 
 lost my desire for revenge. I am sick sick of de- 
 lay. Once my appetite is sated, I shall be ready to 
 die." 
 
 " Bah ! " he sneered. " You're not going to die. 
 A woman don't die of delay or disappointment. 
 You'll live to marry me and return to your birth- 
 place in the Shenandoah valley. Stop that whining 
 about death and the grave; you make me feel 
 creepy. Perk up and listen to what I have to say." 
 
 " I am all attention." 
 
 " Listen, then. I've been among the Delaware 
 and Wyandots, in their hunting camp upon the Tus- 
 carawas. I've made arrangements with a party of 
 warriors, to attack Big Bottom and carry off the 
 girl. I came back a few days ago, to find out the 
 status of affairs ; and I learn your rival has gone to 
 the new and unprotected settlement to live " 
 
 " When did she go? " she interrupted, her cheeks 
 flushing. 
 
 " This morning." 
 
 "You saw her?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How do you know she's going to stay there? " 
 
 " What I see with my own eyes and hear with my 
 own ears, I know." 
 
 She arose to her feet and swayed to and fro as she 
 cried : 
 
 " Then then you can strike the blow at once !
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 269 
 
 You can have her abducted carried away by the 
 savages at any time ! " 
 
 " Now, you appear like your old self," he laughed. 
 " Yes, I shall strike the blow as soon as I can re- 
 trace my steps to the Tuscarawas, and bring my 
 pack of red hounds down upon them. It will take 
 but a few weeks, at most. I want some gold." 
 
 " You shall have it ! How much do you want? " 
 
 " A hundred pounds to bind the bargain. It'll 
 take more than that ; but I can pay them after the 
 job's done." 
 
 " I haven't that amount with me." 
 
 " How much have you got ? " 
 
 " Sixty pounds." 
 
 " I can make it do. Give it to me." 
 
 She brought the bag of gold coins from a drawer 
 in the chest that stood against the log wall, and 
 threw it into his outstretched hands, saying: 
 
 " You can have more when you want it ; but I 
 shall have to send to Virginia for it. I shall send 
 immediately for a hundred pounds ' 
 
 She stopped speaking suddenly, and looked him 
 full in the face for several seconds. 
 
 " What is it ? " he inquired, an amused smile flick- 
 ering about his sensual mouth. 
 
 " There will be no failure this time? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 " You purpose to attack the settlement ? " 
 
 " To wipe it out of existence."
 
 270 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 '' The settlers are brave and well armed they 
 may repel your attack." 
 
 " They are practically defenseless, and inexperi- 
 enced and careless. We'll take them by surprise. 
 There'll be no failure this time; I've spied around 
 the place, and I know when and how to make the at- 
 tack." 
 
 " You understand that Paul, my cousin, is not to 
 be killed or injured? " 
 
 " I understand perfectly." 
 
 " He may be there at the time." 
 
 " No matter he shan't be hurt." 
 
 " It is great slaughter ! " She shuddered and 
 covered her face with her hands. " Perhaps there 
 is some other way " 
 
 " Stop ! " he thundered, snatching her hands from 
 her face and shoving her into a chair. " None of 
 the white feather, now. You've gone too far. A 
 few dead men more or less ! Bah ! What does it 
 matter? Come keep a stiff upper lip ! Revenge 
 is sweet. Paul Graydon will be a heart-broken man 
 and blackness and 'ashes will mark the site of the 
 settlement at Big Bottom. I'm off now. A few 
 short weeks and you'll be my bride, eh ? " 
 
 He left the cabin hastily glancing to the right 
 and to the left as he closed the door behind him, and 
 strode away. She sat by the fire, rubbing her numb 
 hands over each other and mumbling incoherently : 
 
 " Revenge ! A bride ! A bride of Death he
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 271 
 
 shall bear me afar upon his white horse his flesh- 
 less arms shall enfold me ! Revenge revenge is 
 sweet ! A bride a bride of Death ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 PAUL and Marie reached Big Bottom in safety. 
 The weather grew warmer and the river 
 cleared of ice. Johnnie's illness abated. The short, 
 rainy December days hurried by, and Christmas 
 drew near. On the twenty-second of the month, 
 the weather grew colder, and ice again covered the 
 surface of the stream. Christmas day, Johnnie ate 
 of the roast turkey that graced the center of the 
 board ; and his mother replenished his wooden plat- 
 ter more than once with hominy, venison and corn- 
 pone. Every one in the isolated community was en- 
 joying the best of health, and for once the old saw 
 " A white Christmas makes a lean graveyard " 
 was verified. At three o'clock in the afternoon, the 
 weather changed. The wind, that had been from 
 the west, suddenly veered to the north and blew an 
 icy gale down the valley, that whitened the landscape 
 still more and sent the settlers, shivering, in doors. 
 It grew colder and colder, and the snow ceased to 
 fall. The howling of the wind among the stripped 
 branches of the trees kept the lone colonists awake 
 until far into the night. At midnight the wind fell 
 and the temperature with it. When morning came 
 the blue Muskingum again wore a heavy coat of ice, 
 (272)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 273 
 
 and the bark of the forest trees snapped and cracked 
 in the intense cold. 
 
 One bright, cold day followed another. The first 
 of January arrived ; and, with it, Colonel Stacey 
 from Marietta. He came to see his two sons, John 
 and Philip, and to satisfy himself that the residents 
 of Big Bottom were in no danger from an Indian at- 
 tack. He was much displeased at their carelessness. 
 
 " It's a good thing for all of you," he said, " that I 
 took it into my head to skate up here. What do you 
 mean by such criminal negligence ? I'm surprised ! 
 Here you are without a pallisade or anything to 
 guard you from an Indian surprise. I suppose 
 you're not in the habit of placing a sentry at night, 
 even? " 
 
 " We haven't seen the need of pallisade or sen- 
 try " began William James, smiling good-natur- 
 edly. 
 
 " Seen nothing ! " the colonel snorted angrily. 
 " Do you expect the redskins to come and warn you 
 of their presence? I've been a captive among them 
 and I know their ways. You may depend upon it 
 they've been spying around here, and are well aware 
 of your defenseless condition. They're not fools by 
 any means. They may be down upon you at any 
 time " 
 
 " But," interrupted Francis Choate, " they're not 
 in the habit of going on the warpath, in the depth of 
 
 winter." 
 18
 
 274 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Colonel Stacey smiled pityingly and replied : 
 " Not in the habit no. But it doesn't take much 
 in the way of scalps and plunder, to induce them to 
 change their habits. Mark my words! If you 
 don't enclose your buildings with a pallisade, organ- 
 ize yourselves into a company for defense, and place 
 one or more sentries every night, you'll come to 
 grief. I entreat you to do as I advise ! " 
 
 Paul Gray don and John Stacey joined the colonel 
 in his appeal. So well did they plead, that they were 
 promised that a palisade should be erected as soon 
 as the weather would permit, and that a picket 
 should do duty each night at the future. When Paul 
 accompanied by the colonel started for Marietta 
 that afternoon, he felt that his companions at last 
 fully realized their exposed condition and would not 
 allow their enemies to surprise them. 
 
 As he kissed his sweetheart and bade her goodby, 
 he said : 
 
 " I'll return the day after tomorrow. Be of good 
 cheer ; springtime is coming and with it a home of 
 our own." 
 
 " But, Paul, I'm so uneasy, so so I don't 
 know how to tell you. I feel that something dread- 
 ful is about to come upon us that I shall be taken 
 from you that " 
 
 " Pshaw pshaw, little one ! " he laughed lightly. 
 " Our idle clatter of pallisades, sentries and Indian 
 attacks has made you nervous. Run back to the 
 blockhouse now; it's too cold to stand out here in
 
 7.V THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 275 
 
 the snow. See! Colonel Stacey is already far 
 down the river; I must hasten to overtake him. 
 Goodby and God bless you ! " 
 
 He was gone. To Marie, the gray clouds were 
 grayer and the cold winds colder for his absence. 
 Once back at the blockhouse in the chimney corner, 
 a strange hopelessness took possession of her. What 
 did it all mean? Was she nervous, simply as 
 Paul had said or was some great calamity im- 
 pending? 
 
 The short afternoon sped and night came. The 
 colonists stationed a sentry at one of the block- 
 house loop-holes, and lay down to sleep. When 
 morning came, the picket reported that nothing more 
 dangerous than a prowling fox had invaded their 
 domain. They laughed at their precautions, and 
 declared that in the future they would dispense with 
 the needless trouble. 
 
 Sunday, January the second, seventeen hundred 
 and ninety-one, was bright and clear. There was 
 no church for the borderers to attend, so they spent 
 the day playing games indoors, rambling around 
 the clearing, and shooting at a mark. Zebulon 
 Throop skated down to Wolf Creek Mills, and re- 
 turned with a bag of meal upon his shoulder. 
 
 " It has thawed some today, but it promises to be 
 a cold night," John Stacey remarked to Marie, as 
 they stood in front of the wide fireplace and watched 
 the savory bear-steaks broiling upon the red coals, 
 for supper.
 
 276 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " The wind's rising," returned the girl ; " it wails 
 and sobs among the trees like a restless spirit." 
 
 " My old grandmother used to tell me," James 
 Couch interjected, " that when the wind makes that 
 kind of noise a murderer is abroad." 
 
 Marie shivered and drew near the fire. 
 
 " Stop your croaking, Couch ! " Stacey cried 
 sharply. " Let's talk of something cheerful. Some- 
 body tell a story, while supper is cooking." 
 
 Nancy's voice broke in : 
 
 " Marie, you take this trencher o' hominy over to 
 the Choate boys at the'r cabin ; ther's more'n we can 
 eat, an' they haint got any." 
 
 " Let me take it," cried young Philip Stacey ; 
 " I'm better able to face the wind." 
 
 "No no," Marie answered, "I'll take it. I 
 don't fear a little cold." 
 
 She tripped away with the agility of a fawn. The 
 heavy door banged behind her as she flew across the 
 open separating the upper cabin from the block- 
 house. Just as she reached the door of the hut, she 
 chanced to glance toward the ravine a few rods up 
 the river. Among the shadows of the gloaming, 
 she caught sight of moving figures emerging from 
 the depression. A moment's observation told her 
 they were Indians ! 
 
 Hastily jerking the latch string, she bounded into 
 the room; and the door closed behind her. The 
 four inmates were seated around the supper table, 
 but they sprang to their feet. She placed the
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 277 
 
 trencher of hominy upon the board. Isaac Choate 
 caught her arm and cried : 
 
 "What is it? Your pale face tells me some- 
 thing's amiss." 
 
 " Indians ! " she gasped. 
 
 " Where ? " the four men asked in concert. 
 
 " At the mouth of the ravine, just above I saw 
 them as I reached your door ! " 
 
 " It can't be surely you're mistaken ! " they re- 
 plied. 
 
 She pressed her hand over her heart and shook 
 her head. James Batten ran to the door and lifted 
 the latch to peep out. As he did so, a stalwart In- 
 dian in war paint and feathers crowded through the 
 narrow opening, and, with a grunt of satisfaction, 
 advanced toward the center of the room. He was 
 followed immediately by several others, while a 
 larger body encircled the doorway. 
 
 Marie sank into a chair. She expected instant 
 death at their hands ; but she made no outcry. 
 
 The inhabitants of the cabin were speechless with 
 amazement. Thomas Shaw was the first to recover 
 his presence of mind. He advanced toward the 
 chief, and, holding out his hand in token of friend- 
 ship, said: 
 
 " What do you want ? Are you in need of some- 
 thing to eat?" 
 
 The leader of the Indians nodded ; and the whole 
 party within the house helped themselves to the food 
 upon the table, passing pieces of corn-bread and
 
 278 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 meat, to those on the outside. They were armed 
 with rifles, tomahawks and knives. When they had 
 devoured the food, they made signs to the whites to 
 surrender. Overawed by the superior numbers, the 
 four offered no resistance. 
 
 Two warriors came forward and took hold of 
 Marie. Pale and trembling, she arose and permitted 
 them to bind her arms behind her. A discussion 
 between her captors, over who should take charge 
 of her, was cut short by a large, fleshy-faced, red- 
 haired brave shoving the disputants aside and lead- 
 ing the girl into the open. 
 
 As she reached the cold air outside, Marie heard 
 the blockhouse door creak upon its hinges and saw 
 in the flood of light that streamed from it, a group 
 of dusky forms surging toward the entrance. A 
 volley of shots followed by screams and groans came 
 to her ears ; and, with the cry " My God ! they are 
 murdering them ! " she sank senseless upon the 
 snow. 
 
 After Marie's departure for Choate's cabin, an 
 oppressive quiet held sway in the blockhouse; ap- 
 parently no one was in a talkative mood. Nancy, 
 assisted by two or three of the men, went on cook- 
 ing supper. Isaac took both children upon his 
 knees, pressed them to his breast and trotted them 
 softly. John Stacey stood close to the fireplace, 
 idly beating a tattoo with his fingers, upon the log 
 wall. Suddenly little Johnnie Meeks piped: 
 
 " Pap, what's the matter with Lion ? "
 
 Nancy was the only person to offer armed resistance
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 279 
 
 The dog, bristles erect and fangs flashing, had 
 arisen from his warm corner and glided to the cen- 
 ter of the room. Now, with a deep, angry growl, he 
 leaped toward the door and scratched at the 
 puncheon barrier. 
 
 " Down, Lion back to y'r corner ! " Nancy com- 
 manded ; but the hound refused to do her bidding. 
 
 :< Ther's somethin' 'r somebody there that he don't 
 like," quietly remarked Isaac, looking over his shoul- 
 der. 
 
 " Hark ! What's that ? " cried Philip Stacey, 
 springing to his feet, a startled look upon his beard- 
 less face. 
 
 " / heard nothing," his brother replied. 
 
 " / heard something at the door," Philip said. 
 "There " 
 
 The sentence was never finished. The door flew 
 open, and an Indian sprang over the sill, waving his 
 hand to his comrades. In answer, a dozen rifles 
 cracked, and a number of the settlers fell in the 
 throes of death. The others reached for their arms ; 
 but it was too late. A second volley, and the sav- 
 ages rushed in to finish their bloody work. Zebulon 
 Throop dropped dead at the first shot. Isaac Meeks 
 sank into eternal rest, with his two children clasped 
 in his arms. Nancy was the only person to offer 
 armed resistance. Catching up a heavy axe, that 
 stood in the chimney corner, she towered above the 
 prostrate form of her husband and attempted to pro- 
 tect from death, the pleading children. A stalwart
 
 280 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 brave made effort to snatch the weapon from her 
 hands; but with a screech of defiance she brought 
 it down upon his head, almost severing one-half of 
 his face, and burying the edge of the blade in his 
 shoulder. With a howl of pain, he staggered 
 through the door and fell in a writhing heap. At 
 the same moment, a tomahawk was buried in the 
 brain of the woman. Thus was she saved from the 
 unspeakable horror of witnessing the murder of her 
 two children, which occurred an instant later. Lion, 
 the fierce deerhound, fell fighting for them. 
 
 At the first volley, John Stacey reached for his 
 rifle, but slipped and fell prone upon the floor. The 
 second shower of bullets flew over his head. Leap- 
 ing to his feet, he rushed toward the door, shouting 
 the name of Marie. Beaten back by the tomahawks 
 of the Indians, he sprang up the ladder to the 
 loft. As he left the room below, he saw the 
 slaughter and realized that the savages were giving 
 no quarter. Frantically he tore at the clapboards of 
 the roof. At last, he was able to pull himself 
 through the opening, and felt the cold air upon his 
 fevered brow. Murmuring " Marie ! Marie ! " 
 he crawled along the comb of the roof and prepared 
 to drop to the ground. But the savages were on 
 the alert. With yells of fiendish delight, they 
 levelled their guns at him. 
 
 " For God's sake, spare me ! " he called to them. 
 " I'm the only one left ! " 
 
 The red imps whooped and fired. A convul-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 281 
 
 sive shudder, and he fell with the one word 
 " Marie " on his lips. Faithful John Stacey ! He 
 deserved a better fate ! 
 
 The two Bullard brothers, in the lower cabin, were 
 not aware of the attack, until aroused by the shots. 
 They reached the open air, just in time to hear John 
 Stacey's appeal for mercy, and to witness his brutal 
 murder. Stealing into the forest near at hand, they 
 made their escape. When a hundred yards from the 
 cabin, they heard the Indians' yells of baffled rage 
 at finding the nest empty and the birds gone. The 
 young men were not pursued ; and that night they 
 bore the news of the massacre to Waterford and 
 Wolf Creek Mills. 
 
 The comfortable farmhouse of Obadiah Brokaw 
 'today stands upon the site of the log hut occupied 
 by the two brothers, who alone of all the company 
 escaped death or capture at the hands of the savages. 
 
 As they were looting the blockhouse, the savages 
 discovered Philip Stacey in hiding. A dozen toma- 
 hawks were raised to brain him ; but the red-headed 
 warrior who had led Marie from the upper cabin, 
 leaped in front of the uplifted weapons and shouted 
 in English : 
 
 " Hold ! There has been enough of this cursed 
 butchery. The youth is my prisoner." 
 
 Young Stacey caught his savior around the knees 
 and murmured his thanks. 
 
 " Get up," the other cried roughly, " and come 
 with me ! "
 
 282 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 The young man obeyed ; but, as he looked the red- 
 haired brave full in the face, he uttered the involun- 
 tary exclamation : 
 
 "Red Wallace!" 
 
 " Sh ! " cautioned the outlaw. " Yes, Red 
 Wallace. In my excitement, I betrayed myself. 
 But if you value your life, keep your secret to your- 
 self. Tell not a living soul. Cbme ! " 
 
 Wallace led Philip from the room, pinioned his 
 arms behind him, and gave him into the care of two 
 warriors. Marie had regained consciousness ; and 
 was weeping, and calling for relatives and friends. 
 By the orders of Red Wallace, a litter was made of 
 boughs and bedding, upon which she was placed. 
 The wind had fallen, but the night air was bitter 
 cold. Her captors wrapped quilts around her and, 
 raising her upon the shoulders of four stolid braves, 
 set out upon their journey. The light of the burn- 
 ing blockhouse followed them, as they left the clear- 
 ing and proceeded along the bank of the river. Of 
 the five male prisoners, Philip Stacey only was per- 
 mitted to walk close to the litter bearing the young 
 woman; the other four Isaac Choate, Francis 
 Choate, James Batten and Thomas Shaw were 
 kept in the front of the column. 
 
 As the party left the eastern bank of the stream 
 and started across the ice, a dark form flitted from 
 tree to tree, in pursuit. When they reached the op- 
 posite shore and took up their line of march toward 
 Bald Eagle valley, the same shadowy form trotted
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 283 
 
 softly in their footsteps. After fifteen minutes' 
 rapid walking, the Indians stopped and held a con- 
 sultation. Then a small band of warriors left the 
 main body, and climbing the ridge of hills that 
 skirts the river, set off toward Waterford and Wolf 
 Creek Mills. 
 
 The main party moved forward ; but scarcely were 
 they in motion, when the sharp crack of a rifle rang 
 out, and a painted brave threw up his hands and 
 dropped dead in his tracks. For a few moments 
 consternation reigned. There was no moon, but a 
 subdued starlight faintly illuminated the forest. 
 Several Indians crept cautiously in the direction 
 whence the shot came ; but discovering no trace of 
 the daring marksman soon returned. Philip Sta- 
 cey heard Red Wallace mutter " One of the set- 
 tlers that escaped from the lower cabin ! " Then the 
 outlaw began to talk in the Delaware tongue; and 
 the young man could glean nothing further. 
 
 Stationing two of their number among the trees, 
 to intercept the avenger, the redskins, resumed their 
 journey. They proceeded up Bald Eagle Creek, to 
 the dividing ridge that separates it from Little Wolf 
 Creek, crossed the divide, and descended into the 
 valley of the latter stream. On the narrow strip of 
 bottom-land at the base of the hills, they went into 
 camp for the night ; but not until another warrior 
 had yielded up his life to the mysterious Nemesis. 
 
 The savages built roaring fires, withed the pris- 
 oners to small saplings, and, placing sentries among
 
 284 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 the trees beyond the range of the firelight, lay down 
 to sleep. Red Wallace arranged a bed for Marie, 
 but did not speak to her. The poor girl's faculties 
 were so benumbed by the horrible events of the 
 night, that she hardly realized where she was ; and 
 it was well for her that such was the case. Philip 
 Stacey was placed with the other prisoners. Left 
 alone, Marie at last sobbed herself asleep. But in 
 her dreams she frequently started, and murmured 
 the names of the children and pleaded with Paul to 
 come to her aid. 
 
 The next morning- the Indians cooked for break- 
 fast a part of the food that they had obtained at Big 
 Bottom, giving their captives a liberal allowance. 
 Then they held a prolonged council. The whites 
 could not understand what was said ; but they knew 
 a wordy war was in progress between the principal 
 chief and Red Wallace. At the end of an hour, the 
 dispute was brought to a sudden close. The chief 
 mounted a fallen log and made a ringing appeal to 
 his warriors, to which they listened with respectful 
 attention. When the Indian had finished, Wallace 
 leaped upon the log and addressed his copper- 
 colored allies. As a result the party again divided 
 one-half of the braves joining the chief, and the 
 other half casting their lots with the outlaw. The 
 chief took the five male captives, and crossing the 
 stream set out for the distant villages upon the Mau- 
 mee; while Wallace and his companions, with
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 285 
 
 Marie, proceeded up the valley, toward the hunting- 
 camp upon the Tuscarawas. 
 
 As the two parties disappeared among the trees, a 
 solitary Indian arose from the shelter of a hazel 
 copse, and retraced his course toward the Muskin- 
 gum. It was Silverheels !
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ASA and Eleazer Bullard were the only members 
 of the Big Bottom settlement that escaped 
 death or capture. When the two brothers fled from 
 the lower cabin, they dodged nimbly from tree to 
 tree, and were soon hidden in the depth of the forest. 
 Here they paused. They heard the crash of blows 
 on the cabin door, and the Indians' yells of rage and 
 disappointment ; and they expected to have a dozen 
 of the red fiends hot upon their trail. Night en- 
 veloped them, as they drew near together and con- 
 versed in cautious undertones. 
 
 "Hark! Do you hear any sounds of pursuit?" 
 Asa whispered. 
 
 " None ; they're not following us," the brother 
 answered. 
 
 " We can do nothing for our friends they're 
 beyond mortal aid," Asa remarked, after a minute's 
 silence. " Let's hasten to warn the settlers at Wolf 
 Creek Mills and Waterford." 
 
 " Yes, come look ! They've fired the block- 
 house ! " 
 
 Eleazer pointed to a glow that lighted the heavens 
 above the clearing. The light grew and spread until 
 it illuminated the distant tree-tops and penetrated 
 far into the dark recesses of the forest. 
 (286)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 287 
 
 " Come ! " Asa exclaimed. " We must hasten or 
 we may arrive too late. May God forgive the ignor- 
 ant savages for this night's work ; / never can ! " 
 
 They set off through the cold and darkness of the 
 winter night. Their course led them straight down 
 the river toward the hunting camp of Captain Rog- 
 ers, four miles below. Arousing him, they told of 
 the calamity. The captain and his companion, a 
 Mohican Indian named Dick Layton, joined them; 
 and without delay the four hastened across the hills 
 toward Wolf Creek Mills. At ten o'clock they ar- 
 rived and gave the alarm. 
 
 In the words of the early historian : " On an- 
 nouncing the news of the attack on Big Bottom and 
 the probable approach of the Indians to the Mills, 
 great was the consternation and alarm of the helpless 
 women and children. Several additional families 
 had joined this station since the year seventeen 
 hundred and eighty-nine ; but a number of the lead- 
 ing men were absent, to attend the court of quarter- 
 sessions, which was to sit at Marietta, on Monday. 
 This rendered their condition still more desperate, 
 in case of an attack, which they had every reason to 
 expect before daylight in the morning. The gloom 
 of night greatly added to their distress and gave 
 energy to their fears. Under the direction of Cap- 
 tain Rogers, whp had been familiar with similar 
 events, the inhabitants, amounting to about thirty 
 souls, principally women and children, were col- 
 lected into the largest and strongest cabin. * * *
 
 288 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Into this cabin, they brought a few of their most 
 valuable goods, with all the tubs, kettles and pails 
 they could muster which Captain Rogers directed 
 to be filled with water from the creek, for the pur- 
 pose of extinguishing fire, should the Indians at- 
 tempt to burn the house, which was one of their most 
 common modes of attack. The door was strongly 
 barred and the windows made fast; the men, seven 
 in number, were posted in the loft, who, by removing 
 a few chunks between the logs, with here and there 
 a shingle from the roof, soon made portholes from 
 which to fire upon the enemy. Like a prudent sol- 
 dier, their leader posted one man as a sentry on the 
 outside of the house, under cover of a fence, to give 
 timely notice of their approach. It was a long and 
 weary night, never to be forgotten by the mothers 
 and children, who occupied the room below and 
 thought they should be first sacrificed, if the Indians 
 entered the house. Just before daylight, the senti- 
 nel gave notice of their approach. Several were ob- 
 scurely seen through the gloom of night, near the 
 sawmill, and their movements distinctly heard as 
 they stepped on some loose boards. Their tracks 
 were also seen the next morning in some patches of 
 snow. * * * * 
 
 " A messenger was dispatched early in the night 
 to give the alarm to the people at Waterford, and 
 two runners were sent to Marietta. Nothing could 
 better demonstrate the courage and humanity of 
 Captain Rogers than his conduct in this affair, thus
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 289 
 
 to weaken his own means of defense, by parting with 
 some of his most active and brave men to notify the 
 sleeping settlers of their danger, when he had every 
 reason to expect an attack from an overwhelming 
 force in a few hours." 
 
 All through the tedious hours of the long winter 
 night, speedy messengers bore the warning words to 
 the scattered cabins of the Waterford settlement ; 
 and the madly alarmed colonists rushed to the block- 
 house and prepared for the attack that never came. 
 As the cold, gray dawn crept into the valley, two 
 exhausted runners reached Marietta, and told of the 
 fate of Big Bottom and the danger at Wolf Creek 
 Mills and Waterford. The cannons at Campus 
 Martius and Fort Harmer spread the news through- 
 out the village. Two sturdy-limbed, fleet-footed 
 young men bore the word of warning, to Belpre. 
 General alarm and consternation prevailed. It was 
 the universal opinion that Big Bottom was de- 
 stroyed ; Waterford and Wolf Creek Mills, doomed ; 
 and Marietta and Belpre, seriously threatened. 
 Nothing could be done except to prepare for the 
 worst and hope and pray for the best. 
 
 A half hour before the arrival of the two runners 
 from Waterford, Paul Graydon and Gumbo had 
 started for Big Bottom, with a hand-sled laden with 
 corn, salt and ammunition. Both were swift skaters 
 having learned in New England when Paul was a 
 student at college ; but the snow on the ice impeded 
 their movements, and their progress was labored and 
 19
 
 ago IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 slow. When a few miles away, they heard the 
 reverberating boom of the cannons at Marietta. 
 
 " What's the meaning of that? " asked Paul. 
 
 " I doesn't know, Marse Paul I doesn't," 
 Gumbo replied with a vigorous shake of the head. 
 " It must be de sojers at de fort, salubricatin' de new 
 year." 
 
 " It's not that," the young Englishman returned 
 positively ; " this is the third of the month. I can- 
 not understand it. Something serious is amiss." 
 
 " Dar dey goes ag'in boom boom ! two ob 
 'em!" 
 
 " Those are the cannon at Fort Harmer," Paul 
 said as he bowed his head and listened ; " the other 
 reports were at Campus Martius." 
 
 The roar of the brass pieces echoed over the 
 wooded slopes, and died out among the distant hills. 
 After several minutes, Paul remarked : 
 
 " Let's resume our journey. Whatever may have 
 been the cause, it has ceased ; and we shall learn 
 nothing by tarrying longer." 
 
 " P'r'aps we better go back an' see w'at was de 
 matter, Marse Paul." 
 
 " No ; we shall be weary enough when we reach 
 Big Bottom, without retracing a part of our course. 
 The sun's rising, and soon the ice will be softening. 
 We have no time to lose." 
 
 When they reached Waterford, the sun was high, 
 and the half-melted snow and ice formed a thin 
 slush through which the sled dragged heavily. As
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 291 
 
 they were toiling past, a man, with a rifle in his 
 hand, ran swiftly down the bank to intercept them. 
 
 " Hello! Where are you going?" he called, as 
 he flourished his gun and beckoned them to stop. 
 
 " To Big Bottom," Paul replied, as he paused and 
 waited for the other to come out to him. 
 
 The man moved slowly over the wet ice, balancing 
 himself with his gun. When he reached Graydon's 
 side, he inquired : 
 
 " Where do you come from ? " 
 
 " Marietta." 
 
 " You say you're going to Big Bottom? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You haven't heard the news, then ? " 
 
 " What news ? " Paul asked, quickly, his lips pal- 
 ing and a feeling of dread taking hold upon him. 
 
 " The Indians attacked the settlement last night, 
 and* killed all but the two Bullard boys," the man an- 
 swered quietly, as he set one foot upon the sled and 
 leaned upon his rifle. " They brought the word to 
 Wolf Creek Mills. We got it here about eleven 
 o'clock last night. Two runners were sent to Ma- 
 rietta ; but they went across the country, and I sup- 
 pose they hadn't got there when you left. It's aw- 
 ful" ' 
 
 Paul Graydon heard no more. Every drop of 
 blood forsook his features. His brain reeled and a 
 black wave swept over him. " Dead, dead ! All 
 dead all gone ! " he moaned, as he dropped back 
 upon the sled.
 
 292 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " I didn't know he had friends in the massacre," 
 said the man, sympathetically. 
 
 Gumbo stood like an ebony statue for a moment. 
 Then, as his master hardly moved, the faithful fel- 
 low exclaimed suddenly in excitement : 
 
 " De little gal's callin' to you, Marse Paul ! I 
 hears 'er voice, an' she's sayin' ' Paul ! Paul ! 
 Help help ! ' She isn't dead, Marse Paul ; I knows 
 somehow dat she isn't ! 'Spect dat Red Wallace has 
 done gone took 'er " 
 
 The effect of these words upon the young En- 
 glishman was magical. He struggled to his feet 
 and stared wildly around him. The settler came 
 forward and said kindly : 
 
 " I didn't mean to shock you, stranger ; I didn't 
 know you belonged at Big Bottom. It isn't so bad 
 as reported, I guess. The Bullard brothers escaped 
 while the fight was in progress, and don't know how 
 many were taken captive. Your friends may be 
 alive. Don't give up all hope." 
 
 " Dat's good news, Marse Paul ! " the black said 
 consolingly. " Cheer up, an' we'll done find de little 
 gal, an' git 'er outen de clutches ob dat Red Wal- 
 lace " 
 
 " No, she isn't dead," Paul said with white lips. 
 " You're right, Red Wallace is at the bottom of this. 
 He has taken her captive. But oh, God! captivity 
 among the Indians in the power of such a man 
 is a fate worse than death ! " 
 
 " Don't say dat, Marse Paul ! Long as she's ru-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 293 
 
 minatin* 'mong de red debils, dar's hope. But if she 
 was libin' wid de dead, dar wouldn't be none." 
 
 " True ! " Paul cried. " Let's delay no longer. 
 Come, Gumbo ! " 
 
 " You don't mean to go on to the settlement alone 
 do you ? " the settler inquired. 
 
 " Yes," Paul answered shortly. 
 
 " Wait until tomorrow ; a number of men are 
 going up there to bury the bodies." 
 
 Graydon shudderingly replied : 
 
 " No ; I go today, and alone." 
 
 " I goes wid you, Marse Paul, doesn't I ? " Gumbo 
 asked. 
 
 " If you choose yes, of course you go with me." 
 
 " You take your lives in your hands to go up there 
 alone," the settler said, earnestly. " If we weren't 
 momentarily expecting an attack here, I'd go with 
 you." 
 
 " There's no danger in visiting Big Bottom," Paul 
 replied ; " and you'll not be attacked." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked the man in great 
 surprise. 
 
 " I mean that the savages have accomplished their 
 purpose, and have beaten a retreat. I haven't time 
 to explain further." 
 
 Leaving the sled-load of goods to the settler, and 
 taking only some salt and ammunition, Paul and 
 Gumbo continued their journey. Neither ut- 
 tered a word, as they pushed swiftly up the stream. 
 Paul's strokes were nervous and erratic, but strong
 
 294 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 and rapid ; and his companion had great difficulty in 
 keeping- pace with him. The water upon the surface 
 of the ice rose in fine spray as they cut their way 
 through it, and saturated their nether garments ; and 
 the sweat trickled down their cheeks. On on, 
 with unflagging energy, mile after mile, they glided, 
 until at last they turned a bend and the little clear- 
 ing upon the eastern shore came in sight. Then it 
 was that Paul slacked his headlong speed. 
 
 " Gumbo, old friend," And his voice trembled. 
 " yonder lies all that is left of our little colony. The 
 despoiler has been there. Help me to bear the bur- 
 den of my grief, whatever we may discover ! " 
 
 As they proceeded, the charred and blackened 
 walls of the blockhouse rose into view ; for the green 
 beech logs had successfully resisted the flames. 
 There they stood, a sable monument to the hardy 
 pioneers who found a grave within the inclosure. 
 Paul set his jaws and clenched his hands, until the 
 nails cut into his calloused palms. Not a sign of 
 life was visible about the ruined settlement. On 
 reaching the shore, the two friends found their feet 
 benumbed with the ice-cold water and the pressure 
 of the skate straps ; and it was difficult for them to 
 stand alone. 
 
 " Marse Paul," Gumbo said calmly, " you set 
 down on dis stone, an' let me go up dar an' see w'at 
 I discobers. Dat's de bes' way de sight may be 
 too much fo' you. I'll be back in jes a minute, 
 Marse Paul."
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 295 
 
 " No," Paul answered resolutely, " I must know 
 the worst at once ; I must see for myself ! " 
 
 His handsome, clear-cut features, accentuated by 
 the raven blackness of his ringletted hair, shone 
 ivory-white in the midday sun. His stiffened limbs 
 trembled under him, as he painfully struggled up 
 the slope that led to the level land on which stood 
 the ruins of the ill-fated blockhouse. Gumbo kept 
 at his side and watched him closely, but said noth- 
 ing. They reached the top of the short grade and 
 stood there, panting from exertion and excitement. 
 To right and to left, lay the lower and upper cabins, 
 tenantless, but untouched. Directly in front, was 
 the funeral pyre that held the secret they had come 
 to learn. Paul shook himself and staggered a step 
 forward. Suddenly the negro caught his compan- 
 ion's arm in a vise-like grip and whispered : 
 
 " Marse Paul, dar's one of dem murderin' Injin 
 debils dis berry minute ! " 
 
 " Where ? " the other asked fiercely as he gripped 
 the stock of his rifle. 
 
 " Jes come from de woods down 'hind de upper 
 cabin. Dar! You's can see his shoulder an' arm 
 stickin' 'round de corner dar's de side ob his 
 head! He's lookin' at de blockhouse. Gib it to 
 him, Marse Paul, gib it to him! De obnoxerous 
 calamity ! " 
 
 Paul was on the point of flinging his gun to his 
 shoulder, when Silverheels stepped into the open 
 and came toward them. He leaned his rifle against
 
 2g6 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 a stump, and, holding out both hands to the young 
 man, said in a heartfelt way : 
 
 " White Eagle, it grieves the heart of Silverheels 
 to see you here. Red Fox has visited the lodges of 
 the palefaces ; and the Blue-eyed Pigeon is gone." 
 
 " She is alive, then ! " Paul cried, the light of a 
 great joy illuminating his features. 
 
 " Ugh ! " 
 
 "Where is she where has he taken her?" 
 The speaker was trembling with feverish eagerness. 
 
 " The Blue-eyed Pigeon is unharmed ; but her 
 plumage is ruffled and stained. The Red Fox has 
 taken her to his den upon the Tuscarawas." 
 
 " You are my red brother, Silverheels. Come 
 with me let's set out to recover her! Come 
 we must not delay ! " 
 
 The Indian tenderly laid his hand upon the other's 
 shoulder and replied : 
 
 " It is the heart of White Eagle that speaks now ; 
 not his head. My white brother is trembling with 
 hunger and fatigue. He could not follow the trail 
 he would fall to the earth. See, his breath is 
 short and his hand shakes. He must come to the 
 lodge of Silverheels, and eat and sleep. When the 
 sun again rises from his bed, we shall be upon the 
 trail of Red Fox and his squaws." 
 
 " No no ! " Paul pleaded, " I'm not hungry I 
 need no sleep. Let's hasten to overtake them ! " 
 
 Silverheels shook his head. " We cannot over- 
 take the Red Fox. He glides swiftly through the
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 297 
 
 woods and over the rocks. We must go to his den 
 to find the Blue-eyed Pigeon the Red Fox will 
 not devour her." 
 
 " But she's in that man's power " Paul began, 
 growing more and more excited. 
 
 Silverheels pointed toward the zenith, and inter- 
 rupted him with : " Has my white brother so little 
 faith in the power of his God? " 
 
 " Dat's a home shot, Marse Paul ! " Gumbo said, 
 with a sound in his throat that closely resembled a 
 chuckle. " Dat's right down good sense, ef it did 
 come from an Injin debil! " 
 
 The negro received a scowl from the Shawnee, 
 but rattled on : " If Silverheels's to he'p us git de 
 little gal back, we's got to foller his device dat's 
 all ; kase he knows mo' erbout red foxes, an' red 
 debils, an' Red Wallaces in a minute, dan we does 
 in a y'ar. Dat dar renegadin' Wallace isn't gwine 
 to harm de purty little gal ; he's jes' kidnapered 'er, 
 to please Miss Hester, an' " 
 
 " Gumbo ! " Paul cried, sharply. 
 
 "Wat is it, Marse Paul?" 
 
 " You're talking too much." 
 
 Then, turning to Silverheels, the young man con 
 tinued : " Gumbo is right, my red brother ; you 
 know much more than we. I want you to help me 
 to rescue her who is dearer than life to me. I'll 
 leave all to you. What do you know of the mas- 
 sacre? Was my friend, John Stacey, taken captive 
 also?"
 
 2Q8 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " The friend of White Eagle lies yonder, with 
 many others." And the Shawnee pointed to the 
 blockhouse ruins a few yards off. 
 
 Paul covered his face with his hands and bowed 
 his head in profound grief. Silverheels and Gumbo 
 maintained a respectful silence. After a few mo- 
 ments, the young man dashed his sleeve across his 
 eyes and, looking up, asked in a choking voice : 
 
 " And and Isaac Meeks and family are they 
 dead, also? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " the red man replied stolidly. 
 
 " A wholesale massacre ! " Graydon groaned. 
 " See what a horrible thing your people have done, 
 Silverheels ! " 
 
 The Indian started back a step, and a look of 
 malignant and revengeful hatred swept over his 
 rugged features. Drawing himself up stiffly, he an- 
 swered : 
 
 " I have no people ! The palefaces discard me ; 
 and the red men disown me. I am a Shawnee 
 but I am alone. I have no people ! " 
 
 " Forgive me," Paul returned humbly ; " I didn't 
 mean to hurt your feelings. I cannot expect you to 
 feel as I do, about this terrible affair. Tell me what 
 you know of it." 
 
 The three men representatives of three distinct 
 races seated themselves upon a fallen tree-trunk ; 
 and the red hunter began, speaking in the third per- 
 son, as was his habit in extended narrative : 
 
 " Silverheels was far up the Bald Eagle, tracking
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 299 
 
 a wounded buck. The sun wrapped himself in 
 cloud robes and lay down to rest, and the lean 
 shadows spread themselves through the forest and 
 covered the trail. He gave up the chase and started 
 to return to his lodge upon the Moose Eye; but as 
 he descended from a hillside into the valley of the 
 Bald Eagle, he discovered the tracks of many moc- 
 casins in the snow, and said to himself, ' The Dela- 
 wares and the Wyandots are upon the warpath, and 
 the palefaces the friends of White Eagle are 
 in danger.' Silverheels remembered his promise to 
 his white brother, and hurried toward the lodges of 
 the palefaces, as the startled fawn flees before the 
 baying hounds; but he came too late. Red Fox, 
 with many Delawares and Wyandots, was there be- 
 fore him. When Silverheels was speeding down 
 the river like an arrow, the shifting wind brought to 
 his ears the warwhoops of the red men and the sharp 
 voices of their rifles. Then he knew that the 
 slaughter had begun, and that the Red Fox was lap- 
 ping blood with his split tongue." 
 
 The Shawnee paused and Paul asked : 
 
 " Did you see the massacre ? " 
 
 The Indian replied : " No ; Silverheels did not 
 see the murder of the palefaces. When he arrived 
 upon the scene, the bloody work was done and the 
 big lodge was in flames." 
 
 " Did any escape ? " 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " How many? "
 
 300 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Silverheels held up two fingers ? " 
 
 " The Billiard brothers ? " 
 
 " The two palefaces that lived in the little lodge." 
 And he pointed to the lower cabin. 
 
 " How many were taken captive besides Marie ? " 
 
 The Shawnee raised a hand with the fingers out- 
 spread. 
 
 "Five?" 
 
 " Ugh." 
 
 "Who were they?" 
 
 " The four that dwelt in the upper lodge and th 
 brother of White Eagle's white friend." 
 
 "Philip Stacey?" 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " And all the others are dead ? " 
 
 "Ugh! They are dead." 
 
 " How many Delawares and Wyandots were 
 there, Silverheels ? " 
 
 " More than my white brother has fingers and 
 toes." 
 
 " About twenty-five ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " 
 
 " W'at did dem red debils do w'en dey'd killed 
 an' kidnapered eberybody ? " Gumbo inquired, his 
 eyes rolled upward until only the whites were visible. 
 
 Silverheels did not reply. 
 
 " Did you follow them ? How do you know that 
 Red Fox has gone to his den upon the Tuscara- 
 was ? " Paul asked. 
 
 " When Red Fox with his squaw-braves left the
 
 /AT THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 301 
 
 lodges of the palefaces, the Shawnee was his 
 shadow. He followed them as they crossed upon 
 the ice and entered the wood ; he was at their side 
 when they halted. When Red Fox sent a few of 
 his warriors across the hills to frighten the pale- 
 faces upon Wolf Creek " 
 
 " Did he do that? " Graydon interrupted. 
 
 " Ugh ! The Red Fox is sly ; he frightened the 
 hounds to keep them from smelling out his track. 
 Silverheels saw all and understood. His rifle 
 spoke ; and a Delaware started on his long journey 
 toward the spirit-land. The Shawnee followed Red 
 Fox up the Bald Eagle, and across to Little Wolf 
 Creek. Again his rifle spoke ; and a Wyandot has- 
 tened to overtake the Delaware that had gone before. 
 By the ice-bound stream, the enemies of the Shaw- 
 nee built their camp fires and spent the night. This 
 morning a disagreement arose between Red Fox and 
 the chief of the Wyandots. Their slippery tongues 
 dropped many words. The chief of the Wyandots 
 would go to their village upon the Maumee ; the Red 
 Fox would go to their hunting camp upon the Tus- 
 carawas. The band divided, a part going with the 
 Wyandot, and a part with Red Fox." 
 
 " And the prisoners ? " Paul suggested as Silver- 
 heels ceased speaking. 
 
 " The blue-eyed maiden has gone to the sparkling 
 waters of the Tuscarawas the others, to the black- 
 waters of the Maumee." 
 
 Graydon arose and said : " I must go to the ruins
 
 302 /AT THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 of the blockhouse and search for my dead friends ; 
 I cannot leave until they have received decent bu- 
 rial." 
 
 He walked toward the ruins. Silverheels and 
 Gumbo silently followed. As they reached the 
 yawning doorway and peeped in at the blackened 
 corpses half covered by ashes and charred timbers, 
 the negro remarked: 
 
 " Marse Paul, dar comes some men 'cross de riber 
 on de ice." 
 
 The new arrivals proved to be Captain Rogers 
 and a few companions from Wolf Creek Mills, who 
 had come to look after the interment of the dead. 
 Paul and his friends joined them in their melancholy 
 task. Few of the bodies could be identified. The 
 ground outside being frozen, the pioneers consigned 
 the dead to a common grave within the walls of the 
 blockhouse. Today their bones moulder in the cen- 
 ter of a blooming clover meadow ; and no monument 
 marks the spot. The flowing river ripples a song to 
 them, the burden of whose refrain is " Peace ;" 
 and the south wind whispers " Eternal rest ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 WHEN the marauding band of Indians, that had 
 destroyed Big Bottom, divided upon Little 
 Wolf Creek, the Wyandot chieftain took with him 
 the five male captives, while Red Wallace retained 
 possession of Marie Fontanelle. With the subse- 
 quent fortunes of the five men, this narrative has 
 nought to do. Four of the five returned to their 
 friends, and young Philip Stacey died a prisoner, 
 upon the Maumee. Marie's name does not appear 
 in the old chronicles with those of the other captives, 
 for the reason that it was not certainly known, until 
 years after the massacre, just who had been killed 
 and who had been captured. Besides, few knew 
 she was at Big Bottom at the time of the attack. 
 
 The braves took turns in bearing the litter upon 
 which the young woman lay, with her limbs securely 
 bound. Wallace, his face bedaubed with war paint, 
 marched at the side of the improvised palanquin, 
 with impassive countenance. During the whole of 
 the forenoon, he did not address a word to Marie. 
 In low, guttural accents, he gave commands to the 
 ten warriors that composed his band ; but as he 
 spoke in the Delaware tongue, the girl understood 
 nothing he said. 
 
 (303)
 
 304 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 The day grew warm ; and the melting snow filled 
 the watercourses with a tumbling, yellow flood, that 
 retarded the progress of the party, causing them to 
 make wide detours to ford the swollen streams in 
 safety. Poor Marie ! She had aroused from her 
 stupefied condition of mind and fully realized what 
 had taken place. Her nearest and dearest friends 
 were dead, and she was a bound and helpless pris- 
 oner among the savages. Where was Paul? 
 Would he follow the Indians and try to liberate her ? 
 To be sure he would ! But he might not be able to 
 overtake them ; and if he were, he might be killed in 
 attempting her release. She shuddered at the 
 thought of her desperate condition, and of the dan- 
 ger Paul would encounter should he attempt to save 
 her. She was a woman she could not free her- 
 self, but she could think and plan; and over and 
 over in her mind, she evolved project after project, 
 only to cast them aside as impracticable. The sun 
 beamed into her eyes ; and her head ached. She had 
 not touched the food offered her at breakfast, and 
 now she felt faint and sick. She closed her eyes to 
 shut out the sunlight; and the swaying motion of 
 the litter rocked her to sleep. 
 
 She awoke with a start. Her swinging bed was 
 rocking dangerously, and the roar of surging water 
 was in her ears. She lifted her head and saw that 
 her captors were attempting to ford a broad, swift 
 creek. She heard Wallace's sharp commands, and 
 the grunts and exclamations of the braves. Sud-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 305 
 
 denly the feet of one of the four shot from under 
 him, and, in a moment, all were floundering in the 
 water, with the litter and its occupant atop of them. 
 With a curse, Red Wallace sprang forward, and, 
 catching her in his arms, exclaimed: 
 
 " Don't be frightened, my lovely jade ; I'll get you 
 safely to shore. Curses on those awkward brutes ! " 
 
 She looked into his repulsive countenance be- 
 smeared with warpaint, and a gleam of recognition 
 flashed into her eyes. In that moment she knew 
 him as the red-haired renegade, who had been 
 pointed out to her on more than one occasion in Ma- 
 rietta. 
 
 Once on the bank, the Indians kindled a fire and 
 commenced the preparation of their midday meal. 
 Wallace turned to Marie and said : 
 
 " I see by your face that you know me, my sweet 
 maid." 
 
 "I I don't know your name," she faltered. 
 
 " You've seen me, though." 
 
 " Yes, I've seen you." 
 
 "At Marietta?" 
 
 " At Marietta." 
 
 " My name's Red Wallace." 
 
 Marie made no reply. 
 
 " Since you recognize me," he continued, " we 
 may as well have an understanding. However, let 
 me release you first." 
 
 He took a keen-bladed, ivory-handled dagger 
 from his belt and divided the thongs that bound her 
 20
 
 306 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 limbs. Then, dropping the knife upon the ground, 
 he assisted her to her feet. At that moment an al- 
 tercation arose between two of the Indians, and the 
 outlaw left the young woman's side to quell the dis- 
 turbance. As he turned his back, the quick-witted 
 French girl seized the dagger he had dropped and 
 secreted it in her bosom. 
 
 When he rejoined her, he did not miss the dagger 
 from his belt and made no inquiries. 
 
 " You look hungry and weary," were his first 
 words. " Sit down upon this rock ; I want to talk to 
 you while they're cooking dinner." 
 
 She obeyed. He seated himself beside her and 
 went on : 
 
 " You're my prisoner you understand that ? " 
 
 " I understand," she replied, in a tone that was 
 hardly audible. 
 
 " Very well. As you're my prisoner, I can do 
 with you as I wish. I can have you tortured and 
 killed, or petted and pampered, at my will. I've 
 tried to use you first rate thus far; and I'm going 
 to use you better still provided you're sensible. 
 Unless you make a foolish attempt to escape, I 
 shan't again bind your limbs. Let me bring you 
 something to eat." 
 
 He went to the fire, around which the Indians 
 were grouped, and procured for her a quantity of 
 the stolen bread and broiled meat. Then, rejoining 
 the savages, he gorged himself with half-cooked 
 food, washing it down with copious draughts of
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 307 
 
 fiery liquor from a large flask he carried in his hunt- 
 ing- shirt. 
 
 After resting for an hour, the party again took up 
 the line of march. The outlaw, as he placed Marie 
 upon the litter, leered at her in half-drunken fashion 
 and whispered: 
 
 " I'm pretty good to you, eh ? See how I've dried 
 your wet nest for you. You couldn't give me a 
 sweet kiss, could you? " 
 
 She drew back in terror, and would have leaped 
 to the ground, but he caught her and held her in 
 place. 
 
 " There, there ! None of that ! " he laughed 
 coarsely. " I don't mean to force my attentions 
 upon you. You can't learn to love me all at once 
 but you'll come around all right in time." 
 
 Marie trembled with fear and disgust. 
 
 The Indian band followed the course of the creek 
 they had crossed, bearing to the east as they ad- 
 vanced, and came out into the valley of the Muskin- 
 gum, a few miles below the present city of Zanes- 
 ville. Here, at the peril of their lives, they crossed 
 upon the rotten ice that was ready at any moment to 
 start upon its voyage down the river. Reaching the 
 eastern bank, they climbed the precipitous hillside, 
 and pushed onward through the fast darkening for- 
 est. At nightfall they went into camp under the 
 shelter of an overhanging cliff, upon the bank of a 
 brawling brook. 
 
 Marie was worn out and would have lain down to
 
 joS IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 rest at once, bat the outlaw insisted that she should 
 wait and eat something. After supper he spread 
 her couch for her and, sitting down beside her, 
 began: 
 
 " Now, my pretty jade, we Ye going to have a little 
 cha:. X ::':-. ing: -ike i: :c -.vhi'.e a-.vay the tedious 
 hours, eh?" 
 
 The poor girl noted that he had been drinking 
 heavily, and her heart palpitated with alarm. The 
 Delawares were stretched in various attitudes 
 around the camp fire a few yards distant, and she 
 and the renegade were practically alone. His 
 breath, heavy with liquor, sickened and disgusted 
 her. She wished sincerely that her place of rest 
 were closer to the camp-fire. The savage redmen 
 were less to be feared than the brutal white at her 
 side. 
 
 " Please leave me," she pleaded ; " I am weary 
 I do not desire to talk." 
 
 "Don't care to talk, eh?" he sneered. "I've 
 been too kind to you. You need taking down a peg. 
 Do yon know why I led the redskins against the set- 
 tlement at Big Bottom?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " To get hold of you that's why. And do you 
 know why I wanted to carry you off? " 
 
 " I do not," she replied, turning away her face. 
 
 " Hold on! " he cried, roughly. " None of your 
 coyness with me. You'll find me gentle enough if 
 you don't cross me; but if you do, look out! No
 
 W THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 309 
 
 surliness, miss! There, that's better; now I'll go 
 on. I kidnaped you because a woman hired me to 
 do it. Wine and women will cause the most up- 
 right man to veer from the straight and narrow 
 way, you know." And again he laughed a coarse, 
 brutal laugh that had in it little of mirth. 
 
 Marie was interested in spite of herself. Was 
 the outlaw telling the truth? Had he been hired 
 to kidnap her? Like a flash of light, the truth 
 came to her. Turning upon her companion, she 
 cried scornfully : 
 
 " And you massacred innocent people for gold ! " 
 
 " Hello ! " he chuckled. " You're getting on your 
 dignity. I didn't know those blue eyes could flash 
 fire in that way. By zounds! but you're beautiful 
 beautiful as an angel! I'm madly in love with 
 you" 
 
 " Stop ! " she cried imperiously, " I will not hear 
 such talk from you. You insult me ! " 
 
 She made a fine show of bold indignation; al- 
 though inwardly trembling with fear. For the mo- 
 ment he was deceived. 
 
 " What a she catamount you are," he replied with 
 an amused grin " all teeth and claws ! But I'll 
 keep my distance for the present at least." And 
 the corners of his sensual mouth twitched. He con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " You asked me a question. Yes, I led my Dela- 
 ware and Wyandot hounds down to Big Bottom, 
 and let them lap blood. I did it because I wanted
 
 3io IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 the riches that had been promised me, for carrying 
 you into captivity. Do you know who's to pay the 
 bill?" 
 
 " Hester Lovelace," was the quiet reply. 
 
 " Ah ! I've revealed no secret, then ; so much the 
 better. Yes, it's Hester Lovelace. She wanted re- 
 venge and so did I. Your coxcomb of a lover, Paul 
 Gray don, jilted Miss Hester and gave me a sound 
 trouncing. We thirsted for revenge. I planned to 
 carry you into captivity ; she agreed to pay me for 
 doing the job besides, she promised to marry me 
 and share her estate with me. Ha, ha! It's won- 
 derful what a fascination I exercise over the fair 
 sex. I'm irresistible eh ? " 
 
 Again he leered at Marie, in maudlin fashion. 
 She did not deign to notice him ; and he resumed : 
 
 " The job was a success ; you're in my power and 
 Mr. Paul Graydon is disconsolate. He knows noth- 
 ing of your whereabouts. The redskins call me 
 Red Fox ; and the name's not a bad one. I am sly. 
 Your lover will track the Wyandots to the Maumee 
 and get killed for his pains, probably. At any 
 rate, he'll not find you there. Then he'll retrace his 
 steps to Marietta; and abandon the quest. Oh! 
 I'm a sly old fox ; I planned it all beforehand." 
 
 He complacently rubbed his hands and chuckled. 
 He knew he was inflicting exquisite torture ; and he 
 enjoyed it. He went on : 
 
 " You don't appear to be in a mood for talking. 
 Very well, I must talk the more. As I said, Miss
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 311 
 
 Lovelace promised to marry me and share with me 
 the family fortune. But since I've been in your 
 sweet society, I've made up my mind I don't care to 
 enter the married relation with the enchanting Hes- 
 ter with all her lands and gold. I've fallen head- 
 over-ears in love with you, my woodland sprite ; and 
 you shall be my squaw and keep my lodge in order. 
 What have you to say ? " 
 
 He leaned forward as he finished speaking and 
 attempted to take her in his arms. With a cry, she 
 sprang to her feet and thrust her hand into her 
 bosom. Crazed with liquor and unbridled passion, 
 he staggered toward her, attempting to fling his 
 arms around her waist. 
 
 " Back ! " she screamed shrilly, " back, or take the 
 consequences ! " 
 
 He laughed recklessly, but did not pause. A 
 bright object flashed in the faint light of the dying 
 campfire ; and, with a hoarse howl of rage and pain, 
 Red Wallace fell backward and rolled down the 
 bank into the noisy brook. Marie slipped away in 
 the darkness. Over rocks and fallen logs, through 
 briers and brambles, she ran. The curses of the 
 renegade and the confused babel of voices in the 
 Delaware tongue followed her, and lent energy to 
 her lithe limbs. She climbed the ridge that skirted 
 the deep, narrow valley ; and paused to ease her 
 labored breathing and listen for sounds of pursuit. 
 The heavens were overcast and the darkness was in- 
 tense. A few large drops of rain began to patter
 
 312 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 upon the dead leaves. Faintly there came to her 
 strained sense of hearing, the indistinct murmur of 
 human accents; and, far below her, she saw the 
 glimmer of torches, dancing to and fro like will-o'- 
 the-wisps. 
 
 " They are searching for me," she panted ; " soon 
 they'll be upon my trail. I must hasten I must 
 escape! Where shall I go what shall I do? It 
 matters little ; better to be devoured by wild beasts 
 than to return to that man's loathsome presence ! I 
 wonder if I wounded him seriously. Hark ! they 
 are shouting in triumph ; they have found my foot- 
 prints. May God protect and help me ! " 
 
 In the darkness of the rainy night, she had no 
 idea of direction. To escape from the dreaded pres- 
 ence of Red Wallace was her one thought. She 
 blundered blindly forward, lacerating the delicate 
 skin of her hands and face and tearing her gar- 
 ments to tatters. The rain fell in torrents ; and the 
 wind, in fitful gusts and swirls, sobbed through 
 the leafless trees. From her disheveled hair and 
 saturated garments clinging to her, the water ran in 
 streams. How long she heedlessly hurried onward 
 she never knew. Exhausted at last, she staggered 
 into the shelter of a friendly ledge of rocks and 
 fell upon the ground. 
 
 When she awoke, the sun was shining into her up- 
 turned face. She attempted to rise, but fell back 
 with a groan. Her limbs were stiff and swollen, 
 and her muscles ached excruciatingly. After re-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 313 
 
 peated trials, she rose and, with halting, dragging 
 footsteps, left the shelter where she had slept, 
 and sought a drink of water. 
 
 The storm of the night before had cleared the 
 sky and rendered the air pure and sweet. The sun 
 shone brightly, and the day was warm for the sea- 
 son. As she sat drying her torn garments in the 
 sunshine, she realized her desperate condition and 
 burst into tears. What was to become of her, with- 
 out food and shelter, unprotected and helpless? 
 She knew that she was many miles from civiliza- 
 tion, and she had no idea in what direction the 
 nearest settlement lay. She dried her eyes at last 
 and began to follow the course of the stream, hop- 
 ing it would lead to the Muskingum. 
 
 She trudged down the stream until she was weak 
 from hunger and exertion. Then she lay down 
 upon a bed of dead leaves, to regain strength for 
 further effort. While lying there, she noted the 
 position of the sun, and concluded that the brook 
 she had been following flowed eastward. 
 
 " If it does, it cannot be a branch of the Muskin- 
 gum," she mused. " I'll climb to the top of the hill 
 and look around me." 
 
 She carried her resolve into execution ; a billowy 
 expanse of forest alone met her gaze. She returned 
 to the lowland and again followed the stream. The 
 little valley grew wider and soon opened into a larg- 
 er one. Hope lent her courage and strength. Hour
 
 314 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 after hour she toiled onward. The sun sank low 
 and disappeared. Night came on. She sought a 
 sheltered place among some fallen treetops, and, 
 breathing a fervent prayer for protection and succor, 
 lay down to sleep, covering herself with dead leaves 
 that had drifted in heaps around the gnarled and 
 twisted limbs. Poor deluded girl ! She did not 
 know that she had wandered in a circle, and that 
 she was not five miles from the spot where Red 
 Wallace had made his camp the night before. 
 Thinking of Paul, she fell asleep, her flushed cheeks 
 bathed in tears. 
 
 She awoke with a start. Where was she? Ah! 
 she remembered all. She had dreamed she heard 
 a child screaming. Was it but a dream ? No ! she 
 heard it again and she was fully awake. Could 
 it be that she was close to a settlement ? She sprang 
 to her feet, and listened intently. The sound was 
 repeated, closer than before. Her heart almost 
 stopped its beating, as she recognized the sound. 
 It was the scream of a panther ! 
 
 She stood like one petrified. The beast was fol- 
 lowing her trail. Flight would not avail her. The 
 sounds drew nearer. The stars and sickle-shaped 
 moon dimly lighted the forest. She heard the dead 
 leaves rustle to the animal's cat-like tread, and saw 
 two balls of fire moving toward her. Half-fasci- 
 nated, she watched them. The dark body creeping 
 along the ground came nearer. She tried to cry
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 315 
 
 out, but could not. The panther was crouching for 
 a spring. What was that sound behind her? Why 
 did the animal hesitate and snarl?
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 IT was a hundred miles from Big Bottom to the 
 hunting camp of the Delawares and Wyandots, 
 upon the Tuscarawas. The best and shortest route 
 was along the eastern bank of the Muskingum, for 
 about thirty-five miles, and thence across the hills 
 in a northeast direction. This route Silverheels 
 determined to follow. Noting that the ice in the 
 river was becoming soft and treacherous, the three 
 pursuers did not cross to the Shawnee's lodge ; but 
 spent the night in the upper cabin at Big Bottom. 
 At daybreak they set out upon the trail. Silver- 
 heels led, with the long, swinging stride peculiar to 
 Indians and backwoodsmen. Hour after hour he 
 kept up the rapid pace which was in reality a 
 half-trot never pausing, except to quench his 
 thirst or to seek a ford across some stream. 
 
 " Dat Silberheels am a ginnywine race-hoss, he 
 am, Marse Paul," Gumbo remarked, as, puffing and 
 perspiring, he brought up the rear. " Guess he tinks 
 we's gwine cl'ar froo to de norf pole in one day, 
 widout eatin' 'r sleepin'. 'Deed if dis nigger can 
 hoi' out dis way much longer. Whew! I's mos' 
 mightily discommoded, I is ; 'spect I's gwine to go 
 into tantrums 'fo' long, if dat Injin debil doesn't pro- 
 mulgate de extrabagance ob his rapidity." 
 (316)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 31? 
 
 " Come on," Paul answered, without looking 
 back ; " we can't go too fast. I am in a fever to 
 overtake the Indians." 
 
 " An' I's in a feber, too," Gumbo replied. " I's 
 b'ilin' an' roastin' dis berry minute. Doesn't see no 
 use in prospectin' de whole distance to de Injin 
 camp in one fo'noon I doesn't." 
 
 Silverheels overheard a part of the negro's re- 
 marks, and, with a grim smile upon his bronze 
 countenance, led on faster than before. An hour 
 after midday, he came to a sudden halt, and, throw- 
 ing himself at full length upon the damp earth, 
 grunted : 
 
 " Let us rest and eat. Here the Dela wares 
 crossed the Moose Eye." 
 
 As has been stated in the preceding chapter, 
 the day was warm and sunshiny. The river was 
 full of floating ice, that rolled over and over in 
 the turbulent water and ground along the shore, 
 until the ear pulsated with the vibrant roar. Paul 
 could discover no reason for the Shawnee's con- 
 fident assertion that Red Wallace and his band 
 had crosssed the stream at that point, and so ex- 
 pressed himself. 
 
 He said : " It's well that we should stop to rest 
 and eat. I'm both tired and hungry and I believe 
 I may truthfully say the same of Gumbo " 
 
 " 'Deed an' you may, Marse Paul ! " the black 
 interrupted. " If dar eber was an eggshosted an' 
 kerflummixed nigger, I's dat chile."
 
 318 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " But," Paul resumed, without heeding the darky's 
 interruption, " what have you seen that warrants you 
 in saying the Delawares crossed the river here ? " 
 
 Silverheels replied briefly : " Many moccasin 
 tracks broken twigs." 
 
 "Where?" Paul inquired. 
 
 Silverheels arose to a sitting posture and pointed 
 to the soft, damp sod along the river bank. 
 
 Graydon carefully examined the place indicated, 
 but could discover no signs showing that the Dela- 
 wares had come ashore at that point. He saw a 
 number of shallow indentations in the wet turf and 
 a few disturbed and broken twigs among the dead 
 willows. That was all. However, he acknowledged 
 that the Shawnee was a skillful and experienced 
 woodman ; and he did not doubt his positive state- 
 ment. 
 
 The three men ate some dried meat and corn- 
 bread the Indian took from the pouch that hung at 
 his side; and, after resting and dozing for a half 
 hour, took up the trail across the hills. Silverheels 
 appeared to follow the footprints of his ancient 
 foes instinctively. With bent head he trotted on- 
 ward, never speaking except when addressed and 
 then answering in monosyllables. At sunset they 
 arrived at the Delaware camp of the previous night. 
 
 While examining the place, the Shawnee started 
 and uttered the guttural exclamation: 
 
 "Fight! Blood! Red Fox hurt." 
 
 " What do you say? " Paul asked excitedly.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 319 
 
 " Blood see ? " And Silverheels pointed to 
 some rust-colored spots upon the stones and fallen 
 leaves. 
 
 " An' dar's a whole puddle ob it, on dat flat rock 
 by de ashes ob de fire," Gumbo cried, with bulging 
 eyeballs ; " dey mus' ob had an obstropperous scrim- 
 mage, Marse Paul." 
 
 " No doubt it's the blood of some animal," Paul 
 replied. 
 
 The Shawnee shook his head and continued to 
 carefully inspect the ground. When he had fin- 
 ished, he stood with folded arms, gazing up the 
 steep hillside in front of him. 
 
 " What do you make of it all ? " Paul inquired. 
 
 The Shawnee did not answer at once; and the 
 young Englishman asked : 
 
 " Is this the stain of human blood ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! It is the blood of Red Fox." 
 
 " How do you know? " 
 
 Silverheels showed his white brother the trail 
 made by the outlaw as he slid down the little de- 
 clivity, the blood drops upon the stones, and the 
 puddle upon the flat rock by the ashes of the camp- 
 fire; and replied: 
 
 " White Eagle, this is blood the blood of a pale- 
 face, the blood of Red Fox. And here is a bunch of 
 red hair that was torn from his head, as he slid 
 down the bank." 
 
 " But," Paul insisted, " there are no blood drops 
 by the brookside, where he must have fallen."
 
 320 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 The Shawnee answered promptly : " My white 
 brother forgets that it rained last night. The wa- 
 ter has washed away the blood drops that fell upon 
 the pebbles by the brook. Under the shelter of 
 the overhanging cliff, we find them still." 
 
 " True ! " Paul cried, eagerly. " Was he killed ? " 
 
 " He was wounded," was the positive answer ; 
 " the Delaware squaws led the Red Fox away." 
 
 " The Delawares did not wound him ? " Graydon 
 returned, in great surprise. 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Who, then, did it?" 
 
 " The blue-eyed maiden." 
 
 "Marie?" 
 
 " Ugh ! " 
 
 "And and " 
 
 " And she escaped in the darkness," the redman 
 completed. 
 
 " T'ank de good Lo'd fo' dat ! " Gumbo murmured 
 fervently. " It's bes' fo' de purty little gal to be 
 out in de woods, 'among de b'ars an' catymounts, 
 dan to be discredited to 'sociate wid dat ripscalawag 
 ob a runnygate. Kiyi ! " he shouted ecstatically 
 " bet she jes jerked de big knife outen his belt 
 an' slashed him a cut ! He's been 'dulgin' in some 
 ob his 'nsultin' an' scandalous talk an' de purty 
 little gal wouldn't done stan' nuffin' ob dat kin' ! " 
 
 " Stop ! " Paul cried sharply. Then, turning to 
 Silverheels, he inquired : 
 
 " You're certain that she has escaped ? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 321 
 
 The Shawnee nodded vigorously. 
 
 " Unaided and alone ? " 
 
 " The blue-eyed maiden was alone." 
 
 " And have the Delawares followed her ? " 
 
 Silverheels did not remove his gaze from the 
 hillside, as he answered: 
 
 " The Delaware squaws did not follow her up the 
 steep hillside. The Red Fox was sorely wounded, 
 and they bore him away up the valley. They could 
 not climb the hill with him in their arms." 
 
 " Do you think they have gone on to their hunt- 
 ing-camp and left Marie to her fate?" 
 
 The Indian shook his head. 
 
 "Then what have they done?" 
 
 " They have gone into camp near by, and are 
 scouring the woods for her. The Delawares are 
 squaws, but they are not fools." 
 
 " Oh ! then let's hasten to overtake her ere they 
 recover her," the young man cried with a sob in 
 his voice ; " I cannot bear the thought of her being 
 recaptured. My darling ! To what straits she must 
 have been driven forced to fight for her life, per- 
 haps! The thought drives me to the verge of 
 madness. And what may be her condition at this 
 moment ! Alone in the forest without food, shel- 
 ter, or protection from savage beasts and still more 
 savage men. I cannot stand here, my red brother ; 
 let's be off." 
 
 " The Shawnee is ready," came the guttural reply 
 from the bronze statue. " But he can follow the 
 21
 
 322 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 blue-eyed maiden's trail but a short distance, ere 
 the black bird of night drops his feathers upon 
 it. Silverheels is ready. Come ! " 
 
 Up the steep hillside and along the narrow ridge, 
 they proceeded. Above them the great trees inter- 
 locked their bare arms to shut out the last faint 
 rays of the twilight ; and around them the nimble 
 shadows flitted silently. The rain of the night be- 
 fore had obliterated almost every trace of Marie's 
 footprints. Paul and Gumbo could discover no 
 tracks at all; but Silverheels instinctively followed 
 the trail, seldom hesitating or pausing. To him, a 
 leaf pressed into the earth a misplaced stone 
 was sufficient ; and he moved onward, his body bent 
 forward and his eyes close to the ground. 
 
 " Marse Paul, dat Shawnee mus' smell out de 
 track, like a foxhoun'," Gumbo remarked as he 
 stumbled along in the rear ; " kase I doesn't see nuf- 
 fin' 'tall to tell dat de purty little gal's been 'long 
 here." 
 
 The negro was breathing heavily from the unusu- 
 al exertion of carrying his rifle and a haunch of 
 venison, that he had cut from a fine doe Paul had 
 killed early in the afternoon. The three men de- 
 scended the long ridge, doubled upon their trail, and 
 came to the opening in the rocks where Marie had 
 spent the preceding night. With a grunt of aston- 
 ishment, Silverheels came to a sudden halt. 
 
 " What is it? " Paul inquired. 
 
 By this time it was quite dusk in the glen where
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 323 
 
 they stood. The huge rocks loomed in somber piles, 
 above and around them ; and the little rivulet at 
 their feet fretfully complained of its hard lot. The 
 whir of an owl sounded overhead ; the howl of a 
 lone wolf echoed far away upon the hilltops. It was 
 an eerie place and an eerie hour. The negro 
 glanced around and shivered. Paul drew closer to 
 the Indian and repeated the question : " What is 
 it?" 
 
 " Here the blue-eyed maiden spent the night ; and 
 here the Delawares came upon her trail," was the 
 Shawnee's reply. 
 
 " Then we are too late ! " the young man groaned, 
 as he dejectedly seated himself upon the ground and 
 bowed his head. 
 
 " Hab dem cowardish red debils got de purty little 
 gal ag-'in ? " Gumbo asked. 
 
 " No," Paul replied, " but they will have her be- 
 fore we can overtake her." 
 
 Silverheels turned upon the speaker and said se- 
 verely : 
 
 " Is my white brother a child, that he gives up 
 so easily? The Delawares are upon the trail of 
 the paleface maiden ; so is Silverheels. Are the 
 Delaware squaws better woodmen than the Shaw- 
 nee?" 
 
 "No no!" Paul replied quickly. "You mis- 
 understand me, my red brother; I'm disappointed 
 but not discouraged. I know we shall recover my 
 sweetheart at last I've all faith in you. But, I
 
 324 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 hoped to find her ere nightfall. It's maddening to 
 think of her alone and helpless a second night in the 
 woods. Can you follow her footsteps farther to- 
 night?" 
 
 " The Shawnee has not the eyes of the owl nor 
 the nose of the panther ; he will wak until morning," 
 Silverheels replied quietly. 
 
 " Very well, then I must be patient," Graydon re- 
 turned resolutely : " Let's eat our suppers and lie 
 down to rest." 
 
 They built a fire, and upon a bed of red coals 
 broiled a part of the venison. This, with some 
 cold cornbread that remained in the Shawnee's 
 pouch, constituted their evening meal. Supper over, 
 on a bed of brush and dried leaves, under the 
 overhanging rocks, they stretched themselves to 
 rest ; and soon they slept. 
 
 Two hours passed. Gumbo awoke, softly caught 
 up his rifle that lay at his side, and arose. Care- 
 fully guarding his footsteps, he left his sleeping 
 companions and stole down the glen. When a short 
 distance away, he stopped and muttered: 
 
 " Mo' dan likely dis am a wil' goose chase ; but 
 den I's gwine to do it anyhow. Ol' Gumbo couldn't 
 lay dar an' hear de words ' He'p, my Paul he'p, 
 Gumbo ! ' all froo de night. Maybe dis nigger was 
 dreamin' ; but if he was, it was de mos' natur'l an' 
 edifyin' dream he eber had dat's all. I b'liebs dat 
 de purty little gal am close 'round' dese parts, an' 
 dat she's in danger ; an' I's gwine to fin' out de troof.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 325 
 
 T wan't no use to wake up Marse Paul an' tell him 
 'bout it; kase he'd called me a silly nigger an' tol' 
 me to go to sleep. An' as fer dat Silberheels, dem 
 wicked an' dare-debilish eyes ob his gibs dis nigger 
 a hot chill, dat's a right-down fack. I's gwine up 
 to de top ob dis hill an' look ober in de nex' holler. 
 De dream showed me de purty little gal 'mong a lot 
 ob brush in a big holler." 
 
 Reaching the top of the high ridge, he stopped to 
 listen. There was more light on the hilltop than in 
 the glen ; and the sentinel tree trunks were distinctly 
 outlined. Nothing out of the ordinary was visible ; 
 and he was on the point of retracing his footsteps, 
 when a sound reached his quick ears, that glued him 
 to the spot. A cry half fierce, half plaintive 
 floated up from the deep, broad valley before him. 
 He waited a few seconds. It was repeated. He 
 gripped his rifle and bounded down the descent that 
 led to the valley, muttering as he went : 
 
 " Dat's de scream ob a painter, an' he's trackin' 
 somefin. Maybe it's the purty little gal ! " 
 
 He did not check his headlong speed, until he 
 reached the valley and stood beside the stream. 
 Then he listened again for the cry. It came dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 " Jes a little furder up de branch," he said to him- 
 self as he started off at full speed ; " an' it's gittin' 
 closer to its prey all de time." 
 
 He leaped over innumerable obstructions in the 
 way of logs and rocks ; splashed through a shallow
 
 326 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 place in the stream ; veered from his course to avoid 
 a thicket of vines and brambles ; and stood still, 
 panting and wildly peering around him. Fifty 
 yards from him lay a fallen treetop ; and among the 
 branches he thought he discerned a moving figure. 
 Cautiously he crept forward. The outline grew 
 more distinct. He saw it was a human being, a 
 woman. Her back was toward him ; but he knew 
 her. It was Marie ! Her gaze was fixed upon some 
 object in front of her. Gumbo heard a rustling of 
 the dead leaves, and caught sight of a cat-like form 
 and two fiery eyes. At the same time, the animal 
 became aware of the newcomer's presence, and 
 snarled. The light was dim and uncertain, but 
 Gumbo took quick aim and fired. The lithe animal 
 sprang into the air and fell back dead. The negro 
 had shot it through the brain. Marie screamed in 
 affright, staggered backward, and would have fallen 
 had Gumbo not caught her in his arms. The 
 intense strain had been too much for her ; she had 
 fainted. Bending over her, the black tenderly 
 chafed her hands and murmured softly : 
 
 " Purty little gal ! Jes wore out wid traipsin' 
 froo de woods an' .cryin' fo' Marse Paul ! She ain't 
 dead I can feel her breavin' on my hand. She'll 
 come to purty soon, an' den I'll take 'er right 
 straight to de camp. Oh ! Miss M'rie, wake up, 
 honey ! De painter's dead ; he can't skeer you no 
 mo'. Wake up, honey ! " 
 
 He brought some water in the hollow of his hands
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 327 
 
 and dashed it into her upturned face. Presently 
 she heaved a deep sigh and opened her blue eyes. 
 
 "Jes lay still, Miss M'rie," he said, soothingly; 
 " dar's nuffin' gwine to hurt you no mo' de paint- 
 er's dead. Jes res' a little minute, an' den you'll be 
 equiliberated an' feelin' firs' trate." 
 
 Marie stared hard at the black face hovering over 
 her and interrogated faintly : 
 
 " Who are you where am I ? " 
 
 " Doesn't you know me, Miss M'rie doesn't 
 you know ol' Gumbo?" he asked quickly and anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Yes, Gumbo," she replied, " but where am I ? " 
 
 " Right here in de woods, honey. Doesn't you 
 recomember dat de painter was gwine to eat you 
 all up?" 
 
 "Yes yes!" and she shuddered "I re- 
 member everything now. How came you here? " 
 
 " Jes come to fin' you, honey dat's how. 
 Wen you's rested a little mite, I's gwine to take you 
 to Silberheels an' Marse Paul " 
 
 "Paul! My Paul?" 
 
 "Yes, Miss M'rie; Silberheels and Marse Paul 
 is camped ' 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Ober in de nex' holler." 
 
 " You three were searching for me? " 
 
 " Yes, honey." 
 
 " How came you here alone, just when I needed 
 you most? "
 
 328 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Well, dis nigger went to sleep wid Silberheels 
 an' Marse Paul by de campfire. Den he dreamp' 
 I 'spose it was a dream dat you was in a peck ob 
 trouble an' calamitatin' diffikilty, an' dat you was 
 callin' all de time fo' Marse Paul an' ol' Gumbo. 
 Dis darky couldn't stan' dat, nohow, honey; he 
 couldn't sleep, an' he jes' slipped away an' come 
 ober in dis big holler to hunt you. Wen he got onto 
 de top ob de hill, he heerd de painter an' knowed 
 w'at it meant. He got here jes in time but you's 
 all right now, Miss M'rie. Does you t'ink you's able 
 to stan' upon yo' feet an' perambulate to de camp ? " 
 
 " Yes, let's go at once," was her quiet but deter- 
 mined reply. 
 
 He put his brawny arms around her and raised her 
 to her feet. Pale and trembling, she stood alone 
 and essayed to walk. Gumbo retained a firm hold 
 upon her arm and assisted her to make the uncer- 
 tain trial. They proceeded slowly, and had reached 
 the base of the steep hill, when Marie insisted that 
 she must rest. At that moment the darky caught 
 sight of a shadowy figure, as it dodged behind a 
 tree trunk. Then he discerned another a little far- 
 ther off. 
 
 " Am dat you, Marse Paul? " he called in a cau- 
 tious tone. He received no reply; and an unwel- 
 come fear assailed him. 
 
 " Did you see some one ? " Marie asked, as she 
 clung to him, trembling.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 329 
 
 Without heeding the young woman's question, 
 Gumbo cried in a louder voice : 
 
 " Silberheels, am dat you?" 
 
 The answer to his question was a chorus of fierce 
 and fiendish yells. He saw Indians surround- 
 ing him and Marie ; and the noble fellow clubbed his 
 empty rifle and prepared to defend his helpless 
 charge. 
 
 With the cry " It's the Delawares ! " Marie 
 sank upon the ground, in a helpless, half-fainting 
 condition. 
 
 There were seven or eight of the redmen. Evi- 
 dently they did not wish to kill either the girl or the 
 black. They did not fire upon them, but rushed in. 
 Gumbo swung his clubbed rifle right and left. He 
 shouted the name of Paul and Silverheels, until the 
 dim arches of the forest rang. Two of the braves 
 snatched Marie from the ground and bore her away. 
 The rifle was wrenched from the negro's hands; 
 and a blow stretched him bleeding and senseless 
 upon the ground. He was bound and made a 
 prisoner.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 WHEN Gumbo regained consciousness it was still 
 dark. As in a dream, he perceived the half- 
 nude forms of the Indians stretched around a camp- 
 fire and heard their stertorious breathing. His head 
 ached, and his teeth began to chatter. The positions 
 of the stars and moon told him the night was far 
 advanced. Midway between himself and the camp- 
 fire, he saw Marie. She was half reclining upon the 
 bare ground, at the foot of a small tree, to which she 
 was bound. Her head rested upon her breast and 
 her rhythmic respirations indicated that she slept. 
 
 " Dey's took us bofe pris'ners," the darky mut- 
 tered to himself, as he vainly strove to control his 
 chattering jaws. 
 
 " De night's mighty col', too ; Fs right down glad, 
 I is, dat dey put de purty little gal close to de fire. 
 De kidnaperin' Injin debils ought to git her somefin' 
 to lay on she'll be likely to ketch 'er def ob col'. 
 Purty little gal! Ol' Gumbo couldn't sabe you 
 it's a right down scrutinizin' shame ! I wonder 
 whar we is ; I doesn't recognize de surroundin's ob 
 de situation. Ouch ! Dis nigger's head's a-hurtin' 
 right smart 'deed an' dat's a fack ! Dey mus' ob 
 knocked all de senses out ob ol' Gumbo." 
 (330)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 331 
 
 He made an attempt to raise his hand, but found 
 his arms pinioned behind him and made fast to a 
 stake. As he tried to disengage them, the cruel 
 thongs cut into his flesh. He groaned with pain. 
 
 " Dis am a nice fix fo' a free nigger to be in ! " 
 he grumbled. " If I eber gits back to ol' Virginny 
 I'll stay dar dat I will. Who's dat wrapped an' 
 rolled up in dem furs an' fixin's ober dar by dat 
 log? Fo' de Lo'd's sake ! If it isn't dat Red Wal- 
 lace, I's a numbskullion ! He's got Miss M'rie an' 
 me bofe. I's a dead nigger, fo' sure, dis time ! " 
 
 He shifted his position as best he could, rear- 
 ranged his swollen and stiffened limbs to the ex- 
 tent that his bonds would allow, and, still mumbling 
 of the cold, the Indians and the outlaw, fell into a 
 fitful sleep. It was break of day when he again 
 awoke. The Indians had replenished the campfire, 
 and were moving to and fro around it as they pre- 
 pared breakfast. Marie was awake, but listlessly 
 maintained her half reclining position. Seated upon 
 a log on the side of the fire opposite the negro, was 
 Red Wallace, his shivering form wrapped in heavy 
 quilts and robes a part of the blockhouse plun- 
 der and his neck and the upper part of his chest 
 swathed in bloody bandages. 
 
 A wonderful change in the appearance of the 
 rugged renegade had taken place. His ruddiness 
 was gone, and his flabby features and rough hands 
 were yellowish, waxen the effect of excessive 
 hemorrhage. Dark lines encircled his eyes, in which
 
 332 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 the fire of latent fever burned; and his thick and 
 sensual lips were dry and parched. He sat moodily 
 gazing into the fire, until he noticed that Gumbo 
 was awake. Then he arose feebly and came over to 
 where the negro lay. He stood looking down upon 
 the prostrate man for a full half minute, as though 
 striving to gain control of himself. At last he said 
 in a husky voice that was little more than a strident 
 whisper : 
 
 " Hello, nigger ! You're awake, are you ? " 
 
 Gumbo nodded but said nothing. 
 
 " Do you recognize me ? " was the outlaw's next 
 question. 
 
 Again the negro nodded. 
 
 " Open your big mouth and let your voice out ! " 
 Wallace commanded. " Who am I ? " 
 
 " You's de man dat I put 'pon his back on de las' 
 Fo'th ob July," Gumbo replied with provoking cool- 
 ness. 
 
 " I'm glad to see you remember me so well," 
 the renegade returned with equal calmness. " I've 
 got you in my power now got you where Mr. Paul 
 Gray don can't interfere and I'll take sweet re- 
 venge. Yes, you put me upon my back, and you 
 caused me to get a thorough drubbing at the hands 
 of that young upstart. You shall receive your re- 
 ward, never fear. My Delaware hounds will teach 
 you to run the gauntlet. Oh, it's fine sport ! " 
 
 Red Wallace chuckled hoarsely, but the act 
 brought on an attack of coughing that threatened to
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 333 
 
 strangle him. He spat upon the ground and the 
 mucus was streaked with blood. Wiping his mouth 
 with the back of his hand he resumed : 
 
 " You see the condition I'm in stabbed through 
 the top of the lung by that she wildcat over there. 
 I'm liable to die at any moment, I suppose. No 
 matter, a man must die some time. At any rate, 
 I mean to live long enough to pay off all old scores. 
 You and the young jade shan't be forgotten when I 
 parcel out my rewards ! What are you doing here, 
 you black scoundrel ? " 
 
 " I isn't doin' nuffin'," Gumbo replied, truthfully. 
 " I's bucked, an' gagged, an' tied, till I can't do 
 nuffin'. 'Deed an' dat's de solemn troof ! " 
 
 "What did you come here for?" 
 
 " I didn't come ; de Injun debils brunged me." 
 
 " What were you doing in the woods when they 
 caught you? " 
 
 " Killin' painters an' fightin' red debbils." 
 
 " You've got a funny streak, eh? " Wallace cried 
 in cracked tones. " Never mind, I'll take all that 
 out of you. Answer my question, or I'll roast you 
 over a slow fire. How did you find the girl? " 
 
 " Doesn't know, Marse Wallace ; guess de good 
 Lo'd done gone showed dis ol' nigger whar de 
 purty little gal was." 
 
 "You were hunting her?" 
 
 " Yes, sah." 
 
 " How did you know she was a captive ? " 
 
 Gumbo was silent.
 
 334 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Answer me ! " the outlaw squeaked, attempting 
 to elevate his voice. The effort was a failure, and 
 brought on another attack of coughing. He re- 
 pressed it, and stood holding his throat and panting. 
 Presently he whispered with difficulty : 
 
 " It won't do for me to get excited, that's plain. 
 Now, you've got to answer my questions, nigger ; 
 if you don't, the consequences will be upon your 
 own head. Who was with you who led you upon 
 my trail ? " 
 
 Gumbo knew the salvation of Marie and himself 
 depended upon the efforts of Paul and Silverheels. 
 He knew, also, that should Red Wallace become 
 assured the two men were upon his trail, he would 
 take additional precautions to defeat them. The 
 negro set his teeth and resolved to undergo any 
 form of torment rather than reveal his secret. Wal- 
 lace dealt the bound and helpless black a brutal kick 
 and repeated his questions. 
 
 " Out with it ! " he insisted, emphasizing his com- 
 mands with a series of kicks and cuffs. But the 
 blows lacked vigor; and, although the negro 
 squirmed and strained at his bonds until the blood 
 dropped from his lacerated wrists, he was not 
 seriously injured. 
 
 " Jes' cut dees cords an' let me loose, an' I'll show 
 you how to kick ! " Gumbo shouted. " You's a 
 mean, cowardly Red Fox dat's w'at you is to 
 'buse a man w'en he's down an' can't he'p hisse'f. 
 Jes' let dis nigger loose, an' he'll show you ! "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 335 
 
 " Will you answer my question ? " Wallace in- 
 quired. 
 
 ' 'Deed an' I won't!" was the sturdy reply. 
 
 The outlaw's anger was rising, and he was on 
 the point of giving way to a hurricane of rage ; but 
 the distressing cough gave him warning, and by a 
 great effort, he regained control of himself. With 
 a cynical and cadaverous smile, he turned away 
 muttering : 
 
 " It won't do I've got to control myself. It's 
 devilish hard to do, though. Bah! What a fool 
 I am to bandy words with a nigger. The fact that 
 he refuses to answer my questions is proof that 
 there are others upon my trail. Besides, how could 
 an idiotic nigger follow my trail? He couldn't fol- 
 low the track of a whirlwind through a cornfield ! I 
 should like to know who they are, and how many 
 there are. One thing's certain their leader's 
 skilled in woodcraft. Is Paul Graydon among the 
 number? What was the nigger doing away from 
 the others and how did he find the girl ? I must 
 push on rapidly. Once at the camp upon the Tus- 
 carawas, I can snap my fingers at them. I'll have 
 a little palaver with the girl before we start. Curse 
 this wound ! It's liable to give me no end of trouble, 
 right at a time when I need all my strength and 
 cunning." 
 
 With dragging steps he went to the campfire, and 
 carried some food to Marie. He unbound her limbs, 
 and handed her what he had brought. She had
 
 336 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 fasted for thirty-six hours and was half famished. 
 Red Wallace seated himself a short distance from 
 her, and silently choked down his own breakfast. In 
 the meantime, one of the Delawares had loosened 
 Gumbo's hands and supplied him with meat and 
 water. 
 
 When the French girl had finished her meal, the 
 outlaw arose and asked: 
 
 " Do you feel better now, my lively wench ? " 
 
 Receiving a murmured reply in the affirmative, he 
 continued : 
 
 " Like myself, you look a little the worse for 
 wear. You played the mischief with me when you 
 gave me that murderous thrust. I thought for a 
 little while I had received my death wound." 
 
 " I'm very sorry," the girl said languidly, " that 
 I was forced to injure you. But you were to 
 blame. I shouldn't have stabbed you, had you kept 
 your distance." 
 
 " I'll take care not to come within reach of your 
 claws again. Where did you get the knife ? " 
 
 " It was your own." 
 
 " How did it come into your possession? " 
 
 " You dropped it and I picked it up. God is on 
 the side of the weak and defenseless ! He saved me 
 from your power, and He will do so again." 
 
 The renegade started and exclaimed with an oath : 
 " Stop your clack ! It makes me creepy to hear 
 such talk. Look at me! Two days ago I was a 
 strong man; today I'm a staggering wreck. I can
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 337 
 
 scarcely talk or breathe. Do you imagine I'll forget 
 that you brought me to such a condition ? " 
 
 Marie arose to stretch her cramped limbs, as she 
 answered : 
 
 "I'm not to blame ; you brought your injury upon 
 yourself." 
 
 " Nevertheless, my fine jade, you shall pay for 
 it ! " he said, with his hand pressed to his chest 
 and a look of suffering upon his face. " Just wait 
 till I get you to the village till I'm strong again ! 
 You shall learn what Indian torture is. I intended 
 to be kind to you and this is my reward. Where's 
 that knife?" 
 
 Marie did not reply. 
 
 " Give it to me ! " He started toward her. 
 Her hand flew to her bosom and a dangerous 
 light flashed in her blue eyes. 
 
 He stopped, turned toward the Indians and gave 
 a low command. Two of the braves came up to 
 Marie and the outlaw. One quietly slipped behind 
 her, and pinioned her arms to her side, while the 
 other assisted Wallace in his search for the weapon. 
 However, they did not find it ; and, with a string of 
 oaths, the renegade left the girl and ordered the 
 march to begin. When they had turned their backs, 
 Marie recovered the dagger from the leaves at her 
 feet and restored it to its place in her bosom. 
 
 The Indians again bound Gumbo's arms, strapped 
 upon his back a part of the plunder they had with 
 them, and fastened around his neck a cord by which 
 22
 
 338 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 one of their number led him. No restraint except 
 the restraining influence of the eyes of the watchful 
 braves was placed upon Marie's movements. But 
 she was compelled to walk, while the injured outlaw 
 was borne upon the litter. 
 
 An hour after they had resumed their journey, the 
 air grew warmer and damper and blue-gray clouds 
 began to pile up in the northwestern heavens. Soon 
 a snowstorm was upon them. For hour after hour, 
 the great flakes fell silently. They blotted out the 
 trail left by the little party, and lay several inches 
 deep throughout the never-ending woodland. The 
 walking became slavish. Uncomplainingly Marie 
 trudged onward, until ready to fall from exhaus- 
 tion. Gumbo noted her condition and appealed to 
 the renegade. 
 
 " Jes' untie my han's an' let me he'p de purty 
 little gal ober de steep and rough places, Marse 
 Wallace," he pleaded. 
 
 But the outlaw gave no heed to the negro's plea ; 
 and Marie struggled forward as best she could. 
 At last she could go no further. Her bruised and 
 chilled limbs refused to support her, and she stum- 
 bled and fell. She essayed to arise ; but her strength 
 was not equal to the effort. 
 
 " None of that none of your tricks, my pretty 
 minx ! " Red Wallace cried, huskily. " Get up and 
 come on, or I'll order the Delawares to prick you 
 with their knives. I understand your motive; you 
 want to delay us. Get up, I say ! "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 339 
 
 The poor girl attempted to obey, but with a groan 
 fell back upon the snow. 
 
 " Fo ! de sake ob de good Lo'd dat made us all," 
 sobbed Gumbo, the tears trickling down his ebony 
 cheeks, " cut me loose an' let me he'p 'er! Doesn't 
 you see dat she's done gib out, Marse Wallace? 
 Please let ol' Gumbo he'p her ! He'll take 'er 'pon 
 his back he will." 
 
 " Very well, have your will," Wallace replied 
 weakly. The jolting of his vehicle was telling upon 
 him, and he coughed almost incessantly. His head 
 ached violently ; and he sweat and shivered by turns. 
 He ordered the Indians to unloose Gumbo's arms, 
 and, with a moan of agony, dropped back upon the 
 litter. The stalwart black hastened to the young 
 womans' side, placed a muscular arm round her and 
 lifted her to her feet. Again they moved onward, 
 Gumbo half leading, half carrying the exhausted 
 girl. When her strength threatened to fail her en- 
 tirely, he took her in his arms and carried her 
 for mile after mile. 
 
 At the close of the following day after untold 
 toil, hardship and suffering the party arrived at 
 the village upon the Tuscarawas.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 CHILL, murky daylight, with many sinuous mo- 
 tions, crept into the woodland. Soft-footed 
 as were its movements, it aroused the Shawnee. 
 Paul, exhausted by the preceding day's journey, was 
 still sleeping heavily. With a grunt of surprise, 
 Silverheels arose to his feet and walked over to the 
 spot where Gumbo had lain down to sleep. The 
 Indian carefully examined the place and with bent 
 head, slowly encircled the camp. Then he picked up 
 his rifle and glided down the glen. In fifteen min- 
 utes he returned to find his white companion still 
 in the land of dreams. A light touch, and the young 
 man sprang to his feet, rifle in hand. 
 
 " The night is gone ; the day is here," said the 
 Indian. 
 
 " Where's Gumbo ? " the young Englishman 
 asked, glancing around the camp in a puzzled man- 
 ner. 
 
 " The black man is gone." 
 
 " Gone ? " 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 "Where? When?" 
 
 Silverheels shook his head. " The Shawnee 
 awoke to find him gone. His tracks lead down the 
 glen." 
 
 (340)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 341 
 
 " He hasn't gone far he'll be back soon," Paul 
 confidently asserted. " Let's prepare our breakfast. 
 I'm anxious to start again." 
 
 To this Silverheels made no reply. The two re- 
 plenished their fire and, in silence, prepared their 
 morning meal ; but Gumbo came not. 
 
 " What can it mean ? " Paul asked of Silverheels. 
 
 " The black man is far away," was the stolid re- 
 joinder. 
 
 " Do you think he has been gone long? " 
 
 " Many hours." 
 
 " Have you any explanation to offer?" 
 
 The Indian shook his head. 
 
 " It's all very perplexing and provoking," Paul 
 said in an irritated tone. " Just when we should be 
 starting! When the loss of an hour may mean so 
 much the heedless black must lose himself in the 
 woods. What can have happened to call him away ? 
 However, there's no use to waste time in idle fret- 
 ting ; let's eat. If he doesn't come, we must search 
 for him. It will not do to go off and leave him." 
 
 When their primitive meal was finished, Paul said 
 briskly : 
 
 " You say his steps lead down the glen ? " 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " Let's follow him." 
 
 Down the glen and over the hill they went. At 
 the place where Gumbo had shot the panther, Silver- 
 heels stopped suddenly and carefully scrutinized ev- 
 ery inch of the ground.
 
 342 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Why, what's this ? " Graydon cried as he stum- 
 bled over the carcass of the dead catamount. 
 
 Silverheels came forward and looked at the body 
 of the animal, but offered no reply as he pro- 
 ceeeded with his examination of the soft earth at 
 his feet. Paul grew impatient and uttered the one 
 word : 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Would my white brother know what has hap- 
 pened ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then let him be patient until the Shawnee's 
 tongue is heavy with the truth. Silverheels would 
 not speak lies." 
 
 Thus rebuked, the young man dropped upon the 
 dry leaves and nervously awaited the other's deci- 
 sion. The Indian continued his careful scrutiny of 
 the spot for some minutes. At last he said slowly 
 and impressively : 
 
 " The black man is wiser than Silverheels or 
 White Eagle. In the dead of night he came to this 
 place and rescued the blue-eyed maiden. 
 
 " What ! " And Paul leaped to his feet electrified. 
 
 " The Shawnee speaks words of truth," the red- 
 man replied composedly. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that Gumbo alone and un- 
 aided has found Marie and in the night? " 
 
 " Ugh ! The black man found her he saved 
 her." 
 
 "Saved her? From whom?"
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 343 
 
 Silverheels silently pointed to the dead panther. 
 
 " I understand ! " Paul cried. " But how did he 
 find her how did he know that she was here and 
 in danger? " 
 
 " White Eagle must answer his own questions ; 
 the Shawnee cannot answer them for him." 
 
 " But where are they, my red brother the black 
 man and the blue-eyed maiden? Where have they 
 gone?" 
 
 " Here is their trail. Would White Eagle fol- 
 low it?" 
 
 " Yes yes ; let's hasten to overtake them," Paul 
 answered eagerly. 
 
 Again they set out, but soon the young man asked 
 abruptly : 
 
 "If Gumbo and Marie were together, why didn't 
 he conduct her to our camp at once ? " 
 
 " My white brother's question is easily answered," 
 the Indian returned. " At this spot they fell into 
 the hands of the watchful and crafty Delawares." 
 
 " Surely you don't mean to tell me that the Dela- 
 wares have recaptured my loved one?" Paul 
 groaned. 
 
 ' It is true here are the marks of the struggle," 
 the Shawnee responded, a ring of disappointment 
 in his voice. 
 
 " Then what's to be done ? " 
 
 " Follow Red Fox and his Delaware squaws to 
 their camp upon the Tuscarawas."
 
 344 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " You think they have set out for that place, with 
 the prisoners ? " 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 " Very well, let's move on. It is very disappoint- 
 ing very discouraging but I must bear up un- 
 der it. Lead the way ; you cannot travel too rapidly 
 to please me. Oh, for just one shot at Red Wal- 
 lace!" 
 
 Like two somber shadows they moved forward 
 upon the trail, swiftly, silently, cautiously. As they 
 passed the Delaware camp of the -night before, the 
 snow began to fall. Little by little it obscured the 
 tracks of the fleeing red men. Lower and lower 
 bent the Shawnee ; but he did not slacken his rapid 
 pace. Thicker and faster the flakes descended, and 
 after a time, the redman said : 
 
 " The tra'l is hidden." 
 
 " What's to be done? " Paul asked. 
 
 " The Delawares are moving rapidly toward their 
 distant village. They know avengers are upon their 
 track. Silverheels and his white brother will follow 
 them. The trail is lost; but Silverheels is not lost. 
 He knows where the Red Fox has made his den. 
 Come." 
 
 Late in the afternoon, the snow ceased to fall and 
 the air grew colder. At nightfall, the wind was 
 blowing a biting gale and piling the light snow 
 in fantastic shapes that gave to the fast-darkening 
 landscape a sheeted and ghostly aspect. Morning 
 dawned; and the sun shone from a cloudless sky.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 345 
 
 Silverheels and Paul were astir at an early hour, 
 trudging onward with but one purpose. Several 
 times, in sheltered places, where the the snow had 
 not drifted, the two friends came upon the tracks 
 of the party in advance; and, judging from the 
 apparent freshness of these marks, they were grad- 
 ually gaining upon the savages. By mid-afternoon 
 they were following a broad and well-defined trail, 
 and realized that they were approaching the Indian 
 village. 
 
 When winter twilight again heralded the ap- 
 proach of night, Paul and Silverheels went into 
 camp. They knew that they were close upon Red 
 Wallace and his prisoners ; but they had a cunning 
 and desperate foe to deal with, and took no risk of 
 ambush. 
 
 The following morning, at sunrise, they stood 
 overlooking the village upon the Tuscarawas. 
 Their point of observation was one of the wooded 
 hilltops that walled in the valley, on the west. Be- 
 neath them lay the stream itself; and just across it, 
 in the center of a cleared space in the forest, stood 
 the village of scattered huts and cabins. There 
 were about fifty of these, illy constructed of poles 
 and logs, surrounding a large council lodge upon 
 the bank of the stream. The valley at this point 
 widened into a natural amphitheater, through which 
 ran the sparkling river. The eastern rampart was 
 rock-strewn and precipitous, with frowning cliffs
 
 346 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 jutting outward from the trees and bushes that 
 clothed its rugged sides. 
 
 The village was a mere hunting camp. At this 
 time, it was the temporary home of about one hun- 
 dred and fifty Delaware and Wyandot braves with 
 a number of squaws, dogs and children. The main 
 villages of these tribes were upon the Maumee. 
 
 Red Wallace had brought Marie to this camp, in 
 expectation that her rescuers would proceed at 
 once to the Maumee. He had intended to remove 
 her to the principal village, as soon as the hue and 
 cry was over, and there abandon her to a life of 
 suffering and abuse. But he changed his plans. 
 He was seriously wounded and unable to undertake 
 so long a journey. Besides, he was convinced by 
 the presence of Gumbo, that his ruse had been pene- 
 trated and that brave and skillful whites were in 
 the immediate vicinity of his retreat, bent on rescu- 
 ing the maiden. As soon as he was strong enough 
 he would slip away to Marietta, force Hester to join 
 him, and be off to Virginia, ere anyone was aware 
 of his presence in the settlement. In that way, too, 
 he could avoid the payment of the large amount of 
 gold that he had promised his Indian allies. If 
 Marie were finally rescued, what matter? He 
 would have Hester and her property. 
 
 As Paul Graydon and Silverheels stood looking 
 down upon the village of the Aborigines, half hidden 
 among the trees, they saw smoke curling from the
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 347 
 
 lowly huts, and human beings moving to and fro 
 among them. 
 
 The distance was so great the young Englishman 
 could not distinguish form or features. But Sil- 
 verheels' eagle eye penetrated the remotest and most 
 shadowy nooks of the valley. Suddenly he gave 
 a grunt of satisfaction, and bent forward in his 
 eagerness to miss nothing of the scene before him. 
 
 "What do you see, my red friend?" Paul in- 
 quired. 
 
 " Red Fox ! " the Shawnee muttered in reply. 
 " He leaves the council lodge and moves toward 
 a smaller lodge that stands near. He is ill from 
 the wound the blue-eyed maiden gave him." 
 
 " Do you see anything of her we seek ? " 
 
 The Shawnee shook his head : " She is not to be 
 seen. But Red Fox has entered the smaller lodge 
 to the right of the council lodge; no doubt she is 
 there?" 
 
 Paul ground his teeth in silent rage, and gripped 
 the stock of his rifle so firmly his fingers ached. 
 
 " Let's be up and doing! " he cried hotly. 
 
 The Shawnee answered : " White Eagle and Sil- 
 verheels are only two; the Delawares and Wyan- 
 dots are many. They are squaws, but they are cun- 
 ning and merciless. If we would rescue the blue- 
 eyed maiden, we must fight fire with fire. We must 
 oppose cunning with cunning. If the braves of 
 Red Fox discover our tracks in the snow, they will 
 be on their guard. It must nol be. We will seek
 
 348 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 a hiding place, and there remain until the hungry 
 sun has eaten all the snow. Then, at night, we will 
 creep into the den of the Red Fox and bear off the 
 Blue-eyed Pigeon." 
 
 " But," Paul objected, " it may be many days ere 
 the snow's gone." 
 
 " No," Silverheels replied positively, " in a few 
 days the ground will be brown. The sun is very 
 hungry. Like a greedy pig, he will eat all day long. 
 Red Fox will send out scouts to look for us ; but they 
 will return to the village and say that no palefaces 
 are in the surrounding forest. Then will the Red 
 Fox feel secure and grow careless and White Ea- 
 gle and the Shawnee will carry off the blue-eyed 
 maiden." 
 
 " And Gumbo," Paul completed. 
 
 " Ugh ! " Silverheels assented ; but the manner 
 in which he uttered the guttural monosyllable indi- 
 cated that he was not heartily in favor of his friend's 
 amendment. It was evident he had a feeling of 
 aversion for Paul's sable friend. 
 
 " I must submit to your better judgment," Gray- 
 don said, reluctance in his voice, " but I don't know 
 how I am to endure it. Where shall we stay until 
 it's time to rescue the captives ? " 
 
 " I know a place where we may hide for weeks, 
 and no Delaware or Wyandot can discover our 
 retreat. Let us go." 
 
 "Is it far away?" 
 
 " No, come ; I will show you."
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 349 
 
 " What a strange being ! " the young Englishman 
 thought, as he followed the redman. " At one time, 
 he is an Indian with all the instincts and attributes 
 of a savage ; at another, he is a white man endowed 
 with the most admirable qualities of the race. Just 
 now he dropped his figurative style of speech and 
 spoke as the whites do, in the first person. I could 
 have closed my eyes and readily believed I heard 
 the voice of an educated and refined American or 
 Englishman." 
 
 Silverheels led the way along the ridge, until 
 they came to a point a mile or more up the river 
 from the Indian village. Here they crossed the val- 
 ley and ascended the eastern hills. Continuing their 
 course along this ridge, in the direction of the vil- 
 lage, they came to a deep and rocky ravine that 
 opened into the river valley, a few rods above the 
 camp. Scrambling over rocks and swinging by 
 vines and bushes, they reached the bottom of this 
 cleft. The ground was strewn with large, irregular 
 bowlders, that had fallen from the beetling cliffs. 
 A dusky twilight pervaded the place and gave ob- 
 jects near and remote a ghostly and unreal appear- 
 ance. 
 
 The floor of the ravine rose gradually until it 
 reached the level of the hilltops, about two miles 
 back from the Tuscarawas. Where the ravine 
 opened into the river valley, the thread-like brook 
 poured its puny flood over a ledge of rocks about 
 thirty feet in height. The only way to reach the
 
 350 IN THE DAYS OF ST, CLAIR 
 
 place where our two friends were standing, was 
 to follow down the little stream from its origin, two 
 miles away ; or, at the risk of neck and limb, to 
 swing down the nearly perpendicular face of the 
 cliffs, as they had done. 
 
 "Is this the place of which my red brother 
 spoke?" Paul asked. 
 
 " Ugh ! " was the curt response. 
 
 " Tis a lonesome and forbidding place in which 
 to spend days of anxiety and nights of suspense," 
 the young man remarked. 
 
 " White Eagle has not seen all," Silverheels re- 
 plied calmly. " Let him come with the Shawnee." 
 
 The Indian turned the corner of an immense 
 boulder and entered a narrow fissure in the rocky 
 wall. Paul kept close to the redman's heels. They 
 left the dim twilight behind them and plunged into 
 the stygian blackness of a low-roofed passage. 
 
 " Hold ! " cried Paul, " I can see nothing. Where 
 are you leading?" 
 
 Silverheels placed the muzzle of his gun in the 
 young man's hand, saying: 
 
 " Follow ; I will lead you." 
 
 As they proceeded the crevice that they were 
 traversing grew wider and higher. Paul noted that 
 the air of the passage was warm and wet, but fresh 
 and sweet ; and he marveled that it should be so, 
 On they went for quite a distance, the floor of the 
 entrance rising and growing drier all the while, 
 The Shawnee silently threaded the serpentine entry
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 351 
 
 as though perfectly familiar with its intricate turn- 
 ings. At last he stopped and said : 
 
 " White Eagle stands in the center of a cavern 
 whose existence is known to but two men and 
 my white brother is one of them." 
 
 Though the Indian spoke in a low tone, his voice 
 was amplified by the close air and rocky walls to 
 such an extent that his words sounded with almost 
 startling distinctness. From this Paul judged that 
 the cave was large and high, and in this he was not 
 mistaken. What surprised him most, however, was 
 the fact that a faint glow illuminated it, and that 
 the form of his companion and the rugged walls 
 themselves were dimly visible. He looked around 
 for the cause, and was surprised to see a subdued 
 light at the end of the cavern farthest from him. 
 As though divining his friend's thoughts, Silverheels 
 caught him by the hand and led him toward the 
 light. They had gone but a few yards, when Paul 
 made the discovery that they were drawing near to 
 a second outlet, and that the blinding daylight was 
 streaming through it. 
 
 This opening looked down upon the valley of the 
 Tuscarawas ; and directly beneath it lay the Indian 
 village. It was fifty feet above the level of the plain 
 upon which the camp stood, and was concealed from 
 view by a dense growth of laurel and wild plum 
 bushes that had foothold upon a projecting ledge of 
 rocks. The hill immediately back of the village 
 rose vertically to a height of one hundred feet ; and
 
 352 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 midway between its crest and base was the outlet 
 of the cave. 
 
 Silverheels and Paul reached the projecting ledge 
 and looked down upon the landscape spread out at 
 their feet. They were concealed from the gaze of 
 those below, by the bushes along the outer edge 
 of the ledge. From their elevated point of observa- 
 tion, they could have thrown a stone into the center 
 of the group of huts dotting the plain beneath. 
 
 Paul smothered his exclamation of wonder and 
 surprise, and remarked : 
 
 " We cannot descend to the plain from this out- 
 let, my red brother." 
 
 " Nor can the Delawares and Wyandots enter our 
 hiding place through it." 
 
 " True ; but how are we to reach the village when 
 we wish to do so ? " 
 
 " The Shawnee knows the way ; there is a break 
 in the ledge at the mouth of the ravine." 
 
 " And can we descend and return in that way ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " 
 
 " Are you sure our enemies cannot reach us 
 here?" 
 
 " Have the Delawares and Wyandots wings with 
 which to scale the face of the cliffs ? " was the Shaw- 
 nee's rejoinder. 
 
 "No" and Paul glanced upward at the jut- 
 ting rocks that overhung the mouth of the cavern 
 " but may they not enter from the ravine ? " 
 
 With a positive shake of the head, Silverheels re-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 353 
 
 plied : " White Eagle has naught to fear. His ene- 
 mies are ignorant, of the existence of the cave." 
 
 " But should they discover it and enter it from 
 the ravine, we should be caught like rats in a hole ; 
 there would be no way of escape." 
 
 A self-satisfied smile, for a moment, hovered 
 around the Indian's mouth, as he answered compla- 
 cently : " Though the brown mole is blind he can 
 find a way out of his hole in the ground. Silver- 
 heels is not a deaf and blind mole; he has eyes 
 and ears. Though the cavern should swarm with 
 Delaware and Wyandot braves, he would fight his 
 way through them and escape. White Eagle, the 
 cave has another opening, but it is dangerous and 
 difficult to follow. When the time comes, the Shaw- 
 nee will show it to his white brother. Now he must 
 procure meat and means of cooking it. Let White 
 Eagle follow him." 
 
 The two retraced their steps to the ravine. 
 There they procured a quantity of driftwood that 
 had been deposited among the bowlders, by the lit- 
 tle stream when it was swollen by heavy rain or 
 melting snow, and returned with it to the cavern. 
 They made several trips to and fro, conveying to 
 their retreat enough fuel to last them a week. In 
 doing this Paul learned to follow the tortuous 
 course of the subterranean passage which was 
 more than a hundred yards in length by the sense 
 
 of touch. 
 23
 
 354 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 When they had completed their task, Silverheels 
 kindled a fire upon the floor, saying : 
 
 " Let my white brother lie down and rest ; I go 
 to the woods to procure meat." 
 
 Ere Paul could make reply, the Indian was gone. 
 The young man threw himself upon the dusty floor 
 and watched the dancing flames and sparkling env 
 bers. 
 
 " It's quite a comfortable place," he mused, " and 
 the fire makes it light and cheerful ; but what be- 
 comes of the smoke? Evidently it escapes through 
 crevices in the roof. I trust it won't reveal our hid- 
 ing place. I wish Marie and Gumbo were here. I'll 
 rescue them, however, or lose my life in the at- 
 tempt ! " 
 
 He had fallen asleep. When he awoke, the Shaw- 
 nee was sitting by the fire, busily engaged in broiling 
 venison upon the red coals. Paul's first words were : 
 
 "You are back?" 
 
 " Ugh ! " his companion grunted, without looking 
 up. 
 
 "And you were successful?" 
 
 A nod of the tufted head. 
 
 " Is it afternoon ? " 
 
 " The sun is low in the western skies." 
 
 They ate heartily of the savory meat; and lay 
 down to sleep. As the young Englishman was again 
 crossing the threshold, he roused himself and asked : 
 
 " Silverheels, how long have you known of this 
 cavern ? "
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 355 
 
 " When the Shawnee was a youth, he tracked a 
 panther to his lair. The fierce beast's home was in 
 this cave." 
 
 A few moments later their heavy breathing de- 
 noted that both men slept.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THREE days passed, and mild weather came. The 
 noisy streams swelled their bosoms, and again 
 the brown earth was stark. The air grew moist; 
 and fleecy fog hung heavy over the river and larger 
 water courses. 
 
 Red Wallace improved rapidly. Rest and shelter 
 worked wonders in his condition. He recovered 
 from the effects of excessive hemorrhage and re- 
 gained a part of his wonted strength. His distress- 
 ing cough and shortness of breath did not entirely 
 disappear, however, and frequent pain in the chest 
 reminded him that his wound was not wholly healed. 
 
 The Indians were angry over the loss of the two 
 warriors slain by Silverheels, and thirsted for re- 
 venge. They attributed the death of their comrades 
 to the markmanship of Gumbo. Their only reason 
 for believing that it was the negro was that they 
 had found him upon their trail. At a meeting in 
 the council lodge, the night after the return of the 
 party, they demanded that the darky be given over 
 to them, to torture, and that Wallace at once pay 
 them the balance of the gold he had promised. The 
 wily renegade acceded to their demands for the sur- 
 render of the black, but explained that he Wallace 
 (356)
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 357 
 
 -must go to Marietta for the gold, and begged 
 them to be patient until he was able to make the 
 journey. He told them that they should have their 
 share without fail, on his return, and that he would 
 send a runner to the Maumee with the coin for the 
 Wyandots who had gone there with the male pris- 
 oners. 
 
 There was some grumbling at the delay ; but on 
 the whole his explanations and promises were satis- 
 factory. The readiness with which he relinquished 
 all claim to Gumbo disarmed his hearers of suspi- 
 cion. They did not know the blood-thirsty scoun- 
 drel was well pleased that the unfortunate negro 
 was to meet a horrible death at their hands. Red 
 Wallace had not forgotten the Fourth of July, nor 
 the pummeling he had received from Paul Graydon. 
 
 It was the night before the day set for the torture 
 of poor Gumbo. A heavy mist enshrouded the val- 
 ley. Here and there, the light of a fire or torch 
 twinkled in one of the low huts ; but all else was 
 wrapped in darkness. 
 
 In the cavern, Paul Graydon and his red compan- 
 ion were engaged in earnest conversation. The 
 flickering firelight plashed the rough rock walls and 
 faintly illuminated the faces of the two men. There 
 came to their ears the soft drip of water in the wind- 
 ing passage leading to the ravine. Paul was saying : 
 
 " I cannot bear this inactivity longer. Marie 
 knows nothing of our presence in the vicinity ; and 
 no doubt has given up all hope of rescue. There's
 
 358 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 no need of further delay. The snow is gone ; so we 
 shall leave no marked trail to betray us. The red 
 men are unaware that we are near, and the camp is 
 unguarded. The night is favorable let's make the 
 attempt to rescue them. What have you to say, my 
 friend?" 
 
 For some seconds the Shawnee puffed in silence, 
 at the long-stemmed pipe he had lighted. He in- 
 haled the blue and pungent smoke into his deep 
 chest, and exhaled it through his aqualine nose, with 
 every indication of enjoyment. Presently he re- 
 moved the pipe from his lips and said slowly : 
 
 " Would White Eagle attempt to carry off the 
 blue-eyed maiden and the black man, ere he knows 
 where they are or how they are guarded ? " 
 
 "Well well!" Paul cried irritably. "What, 
 then, shall we do? " 
 
 " Silverheels would glide into the village, learn 
 what he wishes to know, and return to his white 
 brother." 
 
 " I will accompany you," said Graydon, rising to 
 his feet. 
 
 " No ! " and the word had in it the ring of unal- 
 terable opposition " the Shawnee will go alone. 
 Two men are more easily seen than one; two men 
 make more noise than one. Silverheels will go 
 alone. He will steal into the camp and creep among 
 the lodges, as the serpent wriggles through the tall 
 grass. He will keep his eyes and ears open ; he will 
 see and hear much. He will go alone."
 
 IN THE. DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 359 
 
 Without waiting for reply, he leaped to his feet 
 caught up his rifle, and glided out of the cavern with 
 the noiselessness of a spirit. 
 
 In the center of the large council lodge of the 
 village, a fire smouldered. The dark smoke ascend- 
 ed to the roof and escaped through an opening left 
 for the purpose. Now and then a tongue of red 
 flame shot out of the bed of glowing embers and 
 licked at the surrounding darkness. Its fitful light 
 revealed the forms of the two occupants of the large, 
 unfloored room. Close to the fire was a Wyandot 
 warrior. He sat bolt upright, his legs doubled under 
 him and his gun resting across his lap. Immovable 
 as a figure of hammered copper, he stared into the 
 red coals, neither moving a muscle nor batting an 
 eye. Back in the depths of the thickest darkness, 
 lay Gumbo. He rested upon the bare ground, near 
 the log wall of the building, with his legs and arms 
 securely fettered. His eyes were closed, but he was 
 not asleep. Of a sudden he moaned and stirred. 
 Then he moved his limbs and attempted to sit up ; 
 but fell back with a groan of pain, and commenced 
 to talk to himself : 
 
 " I isn't gwine to be able to stan' dis kin' of usury 
 berry much longer I isn't. I hasn't nobody to talk 
 to, eben; dat Injin debil jes sets dar an' looks at de 
 coals widout blinkin' an eye neber says nuffin'. 
 Silberheels was bad 'miff ; but he could grunt. I 
 wonder whar dat Shawnee an' Marse Paul am. Dey's 
 a pow'ful long time in findin' dis nigger. An' Miss
 
 360 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 M'rie de purty little gal 'spect dat good-fo'- 
 nuffin runygate's to'mentin' de sweet life outen 'er. 
 Whew! but dese strings does cut into dis darky's 
 meat. 'Bout one mo' day, an' I won't hab no feet n'r 
 ban's dey'll be plumb sawed in two. Wish I could 
 jes set up a little minute jes to res' my achin' 
 bones. J F I eber gits free, I'll make de mos' inani- 
 mate vituperation fo' dat outlawin' cuss I will ! 
 Here comes somebody dis berry minute. Guess I'd 
 bes' pr'ten' to be 'sleep maby it's dat Red Wallace, 
 hisse'f." 
 
 A dark figure stalked through the open doorway 
 and came toward the center of the room. It was the 
 outlaw. He said a few words in the Wyandot tongue 
 to the watchful Indian, who immediately arose 
 and left the lodge. When Wallace and Gumbo were 
 left alone, the former stirred the fire into a blaze, 
 and, drawing near, said sneeringly : 
 
 " Hello, nigger ! Feeling first rate, eh ? " 
 
 The darky feigned sleep. The renegade touched 
 him with his foot and cried : 
 
 " Wake up, you thick-headed brute ! Don't you 
 hear me talking to you ? " 
 
 Gumbo opened his eyes slowly and returned : 
 
 " Is dat you, Marse Wallace ? " 
 
 " Yes ; is dat you ? " Wallace mimicked. " Now, 
 nigger," he continued, " wake up ; I want to talk to 
 you." 
 
 He seated himself upon the ground by Gumbo's 
 side, and went on : " You remember that you threw
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 361 
 
 me twice in a wrestle at Marietta, and made me the 
 laughing stock of the crowd. I was mad ; and, as a 
 consequence, I received a drubbing at the hands of 
 your master, Mr. Paul Graydon. You remember? 
 Well, I vowed then and there to be revenged upon 
 both of you. My time has come. I've Paul Gray- 
 don's sweetheart and yourself in my power. I 
 haven't decided yet what I'll do with the murderous 
 jade" here he ground his teeth "but as for 
 you, I've given you over to the tender mercies of 
 my red hounds. They'll burn you, skin you alive, 
 and tear you limb from limb. Do you know that 
 when morning dawns, you're to die die a death 
 the thought of which makes the bravest men tremble 
 and turn pale? " 
 
 " I doesn't know nuffin' ob de kin'," Gumbo re- 
 plied, without a tremor. 
 
 " Well, you are. This is your last night upon 
 earth." 
 
 " I doesn't b'liebe it ! " the darky returned, stout- 
 ly. " De good Lo'd isn't done gone fo'sooken dis 
 nigger, in no demonstratin' way like dat he isn't. 
 Ol' Gumbo isn't skeered a mite. 'Sides dar's 
 Marse " 
 
 He was going to say that he expected Paul and 
 Silverheels to rescue him; but he checked himself 
 just in time. Wallace was watching him, keenly 
 alert to his every word and expression. Now the 
 renegade cried sharply : 
 
 "Besides what? Go on!"
 
 362 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Gumbo was lying with his back within a few 
 inches of the log wall. Just at that moment, he heard 
 a faint scratching sound on the other side of the 
 wooden barrier. Then something that felt like a hu- 
 man hand gently touched his shoulder. 
 
 Red Wallace repeated his words : " Besides 
 what?" 
 
 " Nuffin '," the darky replied. 
 
 " I know what you were going to say. You were 
 going to say that Paul Graydon and his comrades 
 would rescue you." 
 
 And the outlaw closely watched for the effect of 
 his words. But Gumbo gave no sign by word or 
 look that his inquisitor had hit upon the truth. Wal- 
 lace continued : 
 
 " The Indians want to torture you because they 
 believe you killed two of their comrades, the night 
 the blockhouse was burned. Of course I know it 
 wasn't you did it. It was one of the settlers that es- 
 caped from the cabin at Big Bottom, or some other 
 white. I know also that there were others upon our 
 trail besides yourself; and that they are hovering 
 around the camp at the present time. Now, you tell 
 me who they are, and I'll do my best to have the In- 
 dians abandon their idea of killing you tomorrow. 
 I'll try to make them believe that your comrades are 
 guilty. This is your only chance for life. Without 
 my intervention, you die. What do you say ? " 
 
 Wallace had no idea of interfering in behalf of the 
 darky. But the conscienceless scoundrel was not
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 363 
 
 averse to telling a lie, when it answered his purpose. 
 The black simply set his heavy jaws and made no 
 reply. 
 
 "What do you say?" Wallace repeated impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " I doesn't say nuffin '," Gumbo replied at last ; 
 " I doesn't b'liebe a word you says. If de Injin 
 debils is gwine to kill ol' Gumbo, dey'll kill him 
 dat's all ; an' you wouldn't sabe him if you could. I 
 knows you! If you knows dat dar's white folks 
 hangin' 'round de camp, you ought to know who 
 dey am, widout 'quirin' ob dis nigger." 
 
 The darky stopped suddenly. That mysterious 
 touch was again laid upon his shoulder, and the 
 word, " Courage," was breathed into his ear. Wal- 
 lace arose; and, with a dark scowl upon his flabby 
 face, hissed : 
 
 " Die, you stubborn black dolt ! Curse your im- 
 pudent picture! When you're undergoing the ag- 
 onies of torture, I'll stand by and mock you ; and I 
 won't lift a finger to save you ! " 
 
 In a towering passion, he strode out of the lodge ; 
 and Gumbo was left alone. In a few moments, the 
 Wyandot returned and took up his old position by 
 the fire. 
 
 " So I's to die tomorrow," the negro muttered to 
 himself, as the Wyandot's grotesque shadow again 
 floated upon the opposite wall. " I's gwine to be 
 bu'ned, an' drawed an' quartered, is I ? Well, w'ile 
 dey's doin' all dat to me, wat'll / be doin ' ? Does
 
 364 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 dey 'spect dat ol' Gumbo'll jes set still an' let 'em 
 poke him full ob holes ? 'Sides, I guesses dat Marse 
 Paul an' Silberheels'll hab somefin' to say, too I 
 does. It was dat Shawnee out dar punchin' me froo 
 de crack. I knowed him by de contents ob his mod- 
 ulation, w'en he said, ' Courage.' De whisper ob his 
 vocabulary seemed to come clean outen his mocca- 
 sins. Can't fool dis nigger dat was Silberheels ! " 
 
 The darky was right in his surmise. It was Sil- 
 verheels. As the herculean form of Red Wallace 
 darkened the doorway of the council lodge, the 
 Shawnee sprang from his reclining position by the 
 log wall and like a great bat flitted away in the dark- 
 ness. The renegade sought the cabin near at hand, 
 where Marie was confined. With clenched hand he 
 thundered upon the closed door. When it was un- 
 barred from the inside, he stepped over the sill and 
 closed it behind him. As he did so, Silverheels came 
 around the corner of the hut, and, throwing himself 
 prone upon the earth, glued his eye to the crack be- 
 neath the door. 
 
 The building in which Marie was held a prisoner 
 did not differ materially from any other in the vil- 
 lage. It was a crude affair without floor or fire- 
 place. The walls were of large poles loosely piled 
 one above another; and the roof was of brush and 
 bark. A small opening in one side admitted light 
 and air, and a larger one in the roof served the pur- 
 pose of a chimney. In the center of the small, close 
 room, a few coals snapped and crackled. Upon a
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 365 
 
 pile of furs in one corner, lay the fair prisoner. Her 
 garments were in rags and her face was pale and 
 anxious. In the opposite corner sat an aged crone ; 
 her coarse, gray locks fell in a tangled mass about 
 her wrinkled face, full of cunning, cruelty and avar- 
 ice. She was an old, old woman, and yet the fires of 
 evil passion still burned fiercely. 
 
 She had unbarred the door for the outlaw and 
 then reseated herself. As he stood in the middle of 
 the room, silently surveying the young girl upon the 
 couch of furs, the old hag cackled shrilly : 
 
 " Ha, ha ! The Red Fox comes to visit the pale- 
 face squaw. She is fair; but she is a fierce eagle. 
 Has not the Red Fox felt her beak? Let him be- 
 ware ; her claws may reach his heart. Ha, ha ! " 
 
 " Stop your clack, you old fool ! " Wallace cried 
 roughly, as he scowled fiercely upon her. 
 
 Both spoke in the Delaware language ; and Marie 
 could not understand a word that was said. 
 
 " The Red Fox's tongue is sharp," the crone 
 mumbled with toothless jaws, " but not so sharp 
 as the eagle's claws; Red Fox cannot kill with his 
 tongue." Again she laughed that cracked, discord- 
 ant laugh. 
 
 " Shut up! " the renegade thundered. " If Bitter 
 Water wants to have a whole bone left in her mis- 
 shapen and worthless carcass, she'd better hold her 
 limber tongue ! " 
 
 The aged squaw muttered something and was si- 
 lent. The renegade lighted a torch and stuck it into
 
 366 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 a crevice in the wall ; then walked over to Marie and 
 said: 
 
 " Glad to see an old friend, my princess, eh ? " 
 
 Receiving no reply, he resumed : " Still surly 
 still pouting, eh ? Well, you'll find your voice after 
 awhile, I warrant. Fire has a wonderfully loosen- 
 ing influence on a stiff and stubborn tongue. I came 
 in to tell you a bit of good news ; thought it might 
 cheer up you. Your nigger is to run the 
 gauntlet in the morning. It's great sport ; of course 
 you'll want to go out and see it. Shall I call for you, 
 when it comes off ? " 
 
 The French girl shuddered. With a half sob in 
 her voice, she said : 
 
 " Please do not say more. Would you kill me 
 with your horrible recital ? " 
 
 " I see you can talk when you want to," the out- 
 law chuckled. " Here's another bit of good news 
 for you : "I leave here in a few days, never to re- 
 turn. I go to claim the charming Miss Lovelace for 
 my bride. With her I'll return to Virginia and set- 
 tle down to married life to a luxurious and peace- 
 ful existence among my old acquaintances in the 
 valley of the Shenandoah. Oh ! it's better to be born 
 fortunate than handsome. What a lucky star I was 
 born under! When I leave here, you and the red- 
 skins will see me no more. Not a grain of all the 
 gold I have promised the red hounds will they ever 
 get. I'll live a live of peace and plenty; while 
 you'll live and die the drudge of some Delaware or
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 367 
 
 Wyandot brave. Enchanting prospect for you, eh ? 
 Don't you wish the knife had gone a little deeper 
 when you struck me? You'll do well if you escape 
 death at the stake. The redskins will burn you alive, 
 if you cross them. How the lovely Hester will re- 
 joice when I bear the good tidings to her ! " 
 
 Wallace stopped suddenly, his attention attracted 
 by the strange actions of the old hag in the corner. 
 Her sunken eyeballs gleamed like coals of fire, and 
 her claw-like fingers dug into the hard earth and 
 twitched convulsively. Her toothless jaws were set 
 and her eyes were fixed upon the form of the rene- 
 gade. 
 
 " What the mischief's the matter with you, you in- 
 fernal old beldame?" he howled, turning angrily 
 upon her. 
 
 Marie had buried her face in the pile of furs and 
 placed her hands over her ears, to exclude the sound 
 of his hateful voice. Now she slyly peeped out to 
 ascertain the cause of his outburst of passion. She 
 saw the crone spring to her feet with a nimble and 
 vigorous leap that was remarkable for one of her 
 years, and clutch at the throat of the surprised out- 
 law. With all the strength at his command, Wallace 
 shook off the ancient squaw's feeble grasp, and, seiz- 
 ing her by the shoulders, flung her to the ground, 
 where she lay moaning and whimpering childishly. 
 Then with the words " Bar the door and mind 
 the girl, you toothless huzzy ! " he strode out, 
 muttering as he went :
 
 368 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " I've committed a terrible blunder ; I forgot Bit- 
 ter Water understands English ! Her tongue must 
 be silenced. Once let the redskins become aware 
 of my intentions, and my life wouldn't be worth a 
 mink-skin. What's to be done? One thing is cer- 
 tain; I must hasten my departure. Gods! what a 
 fool I was to indulge in idle boasting. The hag 
 must die before she blabs my secret ! " 
 
 He went directly to his own cabin up the stream. 
 Scarcely had the sound of his light footfalls died 
 out, when Silverheels crept from the black shade of 
 old Bitter Water's low hut and stole away toward 
 the cavern in the hillside.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 PAUL GRAYDON sat impatiently awaiting the re- 
 turn of his red friend. The fire on the cavern 
 floor burned dim and low, and a torch stuck into 
 the rock wall spluttered and went out. The young 
 man arose, walked to the mouth of the cave, and 
 looked down upon the sleeping village. He could 
 see nothing for the dense mist flowed like a river 
 of milk over the site of the Indian camp ; and he re- 
 turned to the fire. It was midnight ; and an oppres- 
 sive silence seemed to hang about him. 
 
 " Will he never come ? " Graydon whispered fret- 
 fully to himself, as he raised his arms above his head 
 and yawned. 
 
 A hazy shadow fell upon the floor; and Silver- 
 heels stood beside him. 
 
 " What have you to report ? " cried Paul, hastily 
 getting upon his feet. 
 
 In a few crisp sentences, the Shawnee told all he 
 had seen and heard. He closed his recital by saying : 
 
 " The blue-eyed maiden may be rescued. She is 
 
 guarded only by Bitter Water ; and the squaw is old 
 
 and weak. But the black man is lost he will die 
 
 tomorrow. He is closely watched by a wakeful Wy- 
 
 24 ( 3 6g)
 
 370 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 andot brave. The black man must run the gaunt- 
 let." 
 
 " Is there no way by which he may be rescued ? " 
 Paul asked feelingly. 
 
 Silverheels shook his head. 
 
 " Can we not rush in and save him when he is 
 brought out ? " 
 
 " We are but two ; the Delawares and Wyandots 
 are many. Would White Eagle court death 
 would he abandon the blue-eyed maiden ? " 
 
 " No ! " the young Englishman replied, his voice 
 choked with emotion. " Nor will I abandon my 
 black friend. If he dies, I die with him. He would 
 risk his life to serve me ; I'll risk mine to save him. 
 I've made up my mind. Hear me, my red brother ! 
 Tonight I go into the Indian camp, to rescue my 
 true-love and my black friend. I go, though I go 
 alone. What says the brave and true Shawnee ? " 
 
 Silverheels' countenance shone with the light of 
 sweet and tender emotion. His whole face was ir- 
 radiated by a smile such as Paul had never seen 
 upon the red man's rugged features. He exclaimed : 
 
 " White Eagle is brave ; he does not shrink from 
 death! White Eagle is true; he will not desert a 
 friend! White Eagle is Silverheels' brother the 
 Shawnee loves him, and will lead or follow him 
 wherever he goes ! " 
 
 " Thank you, my red brother ; thank you ! " Paul 
 murmured in an almost inaudible voice.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 371 
 
 For several seconds they stood face to face in 
 silence. Silverheels was the first to speak. 
 
 " The night passes," he said in soft, gutteral ac- 
 cents ; " ere the dawn of another day we may be in 
 the sprit-land but we shall not be parted. If 
 White Eagle falls, Silverheels will fall at his side. 
 The night passes ; let us hasten. Death lurks among 
 the lodges of the Delawares and Wyandots ; let us 
 go to meet him." 
 
 " Is it so hopeless ? Have we so little chance of 
 success ? " Graydon asked. 
 
 " Ugh ! When the morning sun again kisses the 
 hilltops, the blue-eyed maiden and the black man 
 will be with us in the cave, or with us in the spirit- 
 laud. If we do not succeed, we shall die! " 
 
 " Let it be so !" Paul answered, resolutely. " You 
 know the way ; lead on." 
 
 Taking with them their trusty rifles and long 
 keen hunting-knives, the two determined men left 
 the cavern by the winding passage of the ravine. 
 They proceeded cautiously and silently down the 
 ravine, to its mouth ; passed through a rift in the 
 jutting ledge of stone; and descended to the valley 
 by a narrow and precipitous path strewn with loose 
 fragments of rock. The darkness was intense and 
 rendered their progress slow and perilous ; for a 
 step upon a rolling pebble might precipitate one or 
 both into the dark depths, with a crash that would 
 arouse the entire village. Reaching the plain in si- 
 lence and safety, they crept, little by little, in the di-
 
 372 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 rection of old Bitter Water's hut. At times they 
 boldly walked erect; then upon hands and knees 
 they crept ; again they threw themselves prone and 
 wormed forward, inch by inch. Silverheels led and 
 Graydon closely copied the Shawnee's every move- 
 ment. As they were passing a cabin, where a dim 
 light burned, a stalwart form came to the door and 
 gazed intently in their direction. 
 
 " Hist ! " whispered Silverheels, grasping his com- 
 panion's arm. " Stand ; it is the Red Fox. He sees 
 us not." 
 
 The two friends stood motionless as statues, for 
 several minutes, scarcely daring to breathe. After 
 what seemed an age, Wallace stepped back and 
 closed the door. 
 
 " Come," the Shawnee breathed into Paul's ear ; 
 Red Fox saw nothing but the darkness." 
 
 At last they drew near the lodge where Marie 
 was confined. Not a ray of light was to be seen, nor 
 a sound to be heard. With a silent signal, Silver- 
 heels crept to the hole in the wall to ascertain the 
 state of affairs within the hut, while Paul kept an 
 eye upon the closed doorway. When the Shawnee 
 returned he said : 
 
 " The blue-eyed maiden sleeps. Her soft breath- 
 ing fills the lodge ; but Bitter Water is dead or ab- 
 sent. Now is the time to act ; let White Eagle warn 
 the captive of his presence." 
 
 Paul stepped up to the door and tried it with the 
 tips of his fingers. It was not fastened ; and he
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 373 
 
 pushed it open and stepped inside, closely followed 
 by Silver-heels. Suddenly the regular breathing of 
 the sleeper ceased. Paul felt his way to the corner 
 in which his sweetheart lay and bending over her, 
 whispered softly : 
 
 " It is I Paul. Hist ! not a word." 
 
 " Paul my Paul ! " she answered in the same 
 low tone. " You've come at last. I had begun to 
 fear I should never see you again." 
 
 "You are tied?" 
 
 " Yes, I'm bound hand and foot. The old squaw 
 secured my limbs ere she left the cabin. I made no 
 resistance ; I knew that it wouldn't avail me." 
 
 " Where has the hag gone? " Paul inquired as he 
 felt for his hunting-knife. 
 
 " I don't know ; she left me an hour ago. It is the 
 first time she has been absent since the outlaw placed 
 me in her care." 
 
 Graydon severed the thongs and helped her to 
 arise. Two warm arms were thrown around his 
 neck and two dewy lips met his own. He drew her 
 to him in an ecstacy of joy at again having her un- 
 der his care and protection. Silverheels came for- 
 ward, and, touching Paul upon the shoulder, said 
 earnestly : 
 
 " The moments are fleet of foot ; Bitter Water will 
 soon return. Let her find the nest deserted and the 
 blue-eyed pigeon gone." 
 
 " Silverheels ! " Marie ejaculated under her 
 breath.
 
 374 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Yes," the young Englishman replied, arousing 
 himself. " Without his help I never should have 
 found you. Come, there is no time for delay." 
 
 He took her by the arm and carefully led her from 
 the gloom within to the gloom without. On reach- 
 ing his comrade's side Paul asked : 
 
 "Where now?" 
 
 " The black man is in the council lodge," was the 
 guttural response ; " let us release him, and leave but 
 our tracks in the village of the Delawares and Wy- 
 andots. The moments will not wait at our bidding. 
 Soon will Bitter Water return to her empty lodge 
 and give the alarm. Follow the Shawnee and let 
 your footfalls be as soft as the falling mist. The 
 Delawares and Wyandots are light sleepers; they 
 waken at the sound of a rustling leaf." 
 
 The fog and mist had changed to a steady drizzle. 
 The darkness was impenetrable ; and the wash of the 
 river near at hand was muffled and indistinct. Soon 
 they felt, rather than saw, that a large object loomed 
 up before them. It was the building they sought. 
 The Shawnee changed his course and turned the 
 corner, while Paul and Marie kept close at his heels. 
 
 A faint light streamed from the open doorway of 
 the lodge. Silverheels stopped and listened intently 
 for several seconds. Then he said in a voice that 
 was scarcely audible: 
 
 " Move not. The Wyandot is awake. He must 
 die!"
 
 IN THE DAYS OP ST. CLA1R 375 
 
 The Shawnee glided silently toward the door of 
 the lodge. Stopping just without the circle of light, 
 he imitated the rasping notes of the katydid. The 
 Indian on guard sprang to his feet and, with a grunt 
 of surprise, rushed to the door. One moment he 
 stood peering into the outer darkness. The next he 
 sank to the ground, a corpse, with Silverheels' hunt- 
 ing-knife buried in his heart. 
 
 Marie nestled closer to her lover's side; and he 
 felt her shudder. 
 
 Silverheels leaped over the body of the dead Wy- 
 andot and rushed to the negro. Gumbo had been 
 sleeping and had heard nothing. He looked up in 
 wide-eyed wonder as the Shawnee bent above him, 
 knife in hand. Suddenly aroused 'from a sound 
 sleep, the sight of the Indian with a bloody knife 
 filled the poor darky with alarm. He was on the 
 point of uttering a piercing yell, when Silverheels 
 deftly clapped his hand over the frightened fellow's 
 mouth, and grunted : 
 
 "Ugh! Big fool!" 
 
 " Am dat you, Silberheels ? " was the question the 
 black blubbered beneath the other's hand. 
 
 " Ugh ! " again grunted the red man, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 " Whar am Marse Paul ? " 
 
 The Shawnee removed his hand from the negro's 
 mouth and quickly cut the thongs, saying as he did 
 so: 
 
 " White Eagle and the blue-eyed maiden are near.
 
 376 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Hasten come. The Delawares and Wyandots 
 have keen eyes and ears. They may be upon us 
 soon." 
 
 Gumbo straggled to his feet, and a pleased grin 
 overspread his ebony features when he found he was 
 able to walk. He started to follow his deliverer 
 from the lodge, but stopped abruptly and inquired : 
 
 " Whar's dat Wyandock red debil? " 
 
 " In the spirit-land with his fathers," Silverheels 
 replied in a cautious undertone. 
 
 " Mus' ob tooken a mighty sudden an' diversi- 
 fyin' notion ob goin' on a journey all to once," the 
 darky muttered, glancing hurriedly around the 
 room ; " fo' he was settin' right dar jes a minute ago. 
 Guess dis nigger '11 jes take de Wyandock's gun, 
 kase de Injin debils has done gone stole ol' Gum- 
 bo's." 
 
 He secured the rifle that was lying by the fire and 
 took the powder-horn and bullet-pouch from a peg 
 upon the wall. Then he accompanied his impatient 
 rescuer, to Paul and Marie. The delighted negro 
 would have burst into shouts of ecstatic joy, had 
 not Paul and Silverheels restrained him. 
 
 The four set out for the cave, carefully threading 
 their way among the scattered huts. A slight breeze 
 had set in from the north. It blew directly down 
 the river, tearing the fog to tatters and piling it in 
 ragged heaps upon the projecting crags that walled 
 in the valley. A fine drizzling rain still continued ; 
 but the dim light of the sky filtered through the rifts
 
 IN THE DAYS OP ST. CLAIR 377 
 
 in the thin strata of clouds and faintly illuminated 
 the scene. Silverheels was leading- the way. They 
 had nearly reached the eastern edge of the village, 
 when the Shawnee dropped upon the earth and sig- 
 naled for the others to do the same. A bent and 
 muffled figure was slowly approaching from the 
 Delaware chieftain's lodge at the upper end of the 
 camp. 
 
 " Bitter Water ! " Silverheels muttered to him- 
 self. 
 
 The aged squaw came toward them, mumbling in- 
 articulately. She did not become aware of their 
 presence until she almost stumbled over the form 
 of Gumbo, who lay directly in her path. She stag- 
 gered back a step or two; and, as she did so, the 
 Shawnee leaped upon her and essayed to catch her 
 by the throat. Ere he could do so, however, she 
 threw back her head and uttered the war-whoop of 
 the Delawares. Her voice was weak and cracked, 
 but of sufficient vigor and capacity to reach the 
 nearby cabins. Silverheels bore her to the ground 
 and choked her into insensibility ; but it was too late. 
 The mischief had been done. 
 
 " To the cavern hasten ! " he cried, springing 
 erect and starting off at a rapid pace. 
 
 Paul and Gumbo assisted Marie and attempted 
 to keep close to the fleet-footed red man. Bitter 
 Water's yell was answered from several points, and 
 these cries of alarm brought forth others. They in- 
 creased in number and swelled in volume, until the
 
 378 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 village seemed alive with shouting, yelling demons. 
 Torches flared and blazed ; dogs barked ; dark forms 
 flitted here and there ; and pandemonium reigned. 
 
 " Hasten ! " Silverheels shouted, slackening his 
 speed for the others to come up with him. 
 
 " On ! " Paul panted as he and Gumbo almost lift- 
 ed Marie from her feet in their efforts to aid her. 
 
 " I doesn't like dis pr'misc'ous way ob runnin' 
 off from de red debils I doesn't," the negro man- 
 aged to say between breaths. " It's entirely too hard 
 on de resp'ration ob de breaf ! " 
 
 As the darky ceased speaking, several shadowy 
 figures shot swiftly athwart the path of the fleeing 
 party, and disappeared as quickly and completely 
 as though the earth had yawned and swallowed 
 them. The Shawnee came to an abrupt halt and 
 ejaculated : 
 
 " The Delaware and Wyandot squaws have sur- 
 rounded us ; we must fight ! " 
 
 " If we's gwine to hab a squirmish, I'll git dis 
 Wyandock gun ready to do some talkin'," murmured 
 the darky, as, with the palm of his hand, he ham- 
 mered the breech of the rifle to prime it. " Doesn't 
 know who'll be in de mos' dangerous pr'dicament 
 I doesn't de Injin debil dat gits shot at, 'r de 
 nigger dat does de shootiri. 'Spects I'll git knock- 
 ed clean outen de kentry wid de ol' blunderbuss 
 I does " 
 
 " Listen ! " Marie cried, panting with exertion and
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 379 
 
 alarm. " They're closing in behind us ; they are 
 drawing nearer. What shall we do?" 
 
 " If it were not for you, dear one," Paul answered 
 in a low and tender tone, " I should not care so 
 much." 
 
 " Yes," she said, slowly and sadly, " if I were not 
 with you, possibly you could escape." 
 
 " If we must die, at least we shall die together! " 
 he returned, stooping and kissing her. Then, turn- 
 ing toward Silverheels who stood, leaning upon his 
 rifle as though he were stolidly indifferent to the 
 gravity of the situation, the young Englishman 
 asked hurriedly : 
 
 " My red brother, what's to be done? " 
 
 The Indians had ceased their shrill war-whoops 
 and cries of alarm. They had located the party and 
 surrounded them, at a safe distance. Low signal 
 calls and stealthy footsteps could be heard as they 
 gradually drew nearer to the little band of fugitives. 
 Silverheels did not answer Paul's question at once. 
 When he did so, he said : 
 
 " Our steps have been too slow. The nimble- 
 footed Delawares and Wyandots have surrounded 
 us. If we stay here, we accept captivity or death ; 
 if we attempt to escape, we must fight. The braves 
 are drawing closer. If we would escape, our way 
 lies there and death lurks in the darkness sur- 
 rounding the path." 
 
 As he spoke the last sentence, he pointed toward 
 the entrance of the ravine a hundred yards away.
 
 380 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 " Death is preferable to captivity ! " Graydon said. 
 " Let's cut our way through to the cave. Once 
 there, if the worst comes to the worst, we can at 
 least sell our lives dearly. Lead on, my red brother, 
 we can but die in the attempt ! " 
 
 Silverheels looked to the priming of his rifle and 
 strode forward. Gumbo and Paul walked with Ma- 
 rie, carrying their guns ready for instant use. They 
 had gone but a short distance when a half dozen 
 warriors rose from the earth. Quick as a flash, the 
 Shawnee threw his gun to his shoulder and fired. 
 Scarcely had the flame of the discharge expired, ere 
 two other reports, following in quick succession, told 
 that Paul and the darky had followed their red 
 friend's example. The result was magical and in- 
 stantaneous. Two Indians dropped dead in their 
 tracks and a third lay moaning upon the ground. 
 A chorus of hellish yells broke loose at all points of 
 the compass; and the pattering of moccasined feet 
 sounded like the rush of a stream. But over it all 
 sounded the war-whoop of Silverheels, as he clubbed 
 his rifle and rushed upon the remaining braves in his 
 path. 
 
 " The Shawnee ! The Shawnee ! " cried the Dela- 
 wares and Wyandots, as with howls of rage and hate 
 they rushed to the aid of their companions. 
 
 " To the ravine ! " shouted the Shawnee, swinging 
 his long rifle above his head, and dealing terrific 
 blows right and left.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 381 
 
 Gumbo was at Silverheels' side ; and as he fought 
 he bellowed at the top of his voice : 
 
 " Gwine to make dis nigger run de gantelope, is 
 you? Take dat an' dat! 'Spect dat las' one '11 
 hab a monst'ous headache in de mornin' ! Stan' 
 back dar, you Injin debils! Cl'ar de track dar! 
 Wat you crowdin' fo'? Whoopee 1 Dis chile's 
 been in a squirmish befo' ! " 
 
 Paul had dropped his gun after discharging it; 
 and now, with his left arm around Marie, he 
 clutched his long, keen hunting-knife in his right 
 hand, and carved at the human wall that hemmed 
 them in. The darkness and the number of the foe 
 worked to the disadvantage of the Indians them- 
 selves. They could not use their arms for fear of 
 injuring one another; and the blows that they struck 
 were oftener received by their fellows than by the 
 fugitives. The warriors in front of Graydon and his 
 companions fell back before the desperate attack ; 
 and the throng surging behind carried the com- 
 batants, every moment, nearer the mouth of the 
 ravine. At last Paul found himself a little in 
 advance of his friends and at the foot of the steep 
 and rocky path. Striking down an Indian that op- 
 posed his way, he caught the girl in his arms and 
 sprang up the dangerous ascent. Reaching the floor 
 of the ravine in safety, he dropped his precious bur- 
 den and prepared to hold the pass. But, to his sur- 
 prise, no enemy came. 
 
 He heard the uproar below, and knew Silverheels
 
 382 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 and Gumbo were still fighting desperately. He was 
 wounded and bleeding in a half dozen places, and his 
 muscles ached ; but at the sounds of combat his nos- 
 trils dilated and his breath came in gasps. The bull- 
 dog pugnacity of the English race was throbbing in 
 his arteries. 
 
 " What shall I do," he panted, " leave her here 
 and go to their aid, or stay to guard her ? " 
 
 Marie overheard, and whispered the one word 
 "Go!" 
 
 Then she quietly seated herself upon the damp 
 rock and pointed toward the steep path. Paul 
 sprang down the declivity and again rushed into the 
 thick of the fight. The surging Indians had carried 
 his comrades several yards backward, toward the 
 village. As he ran to join them, his foot struck an 
 object that lay in his path. He stooped and picked 
 up his own rifle. The recovery of his trusty 
 weapon renewed his courage. 
 
 " This way ! " he shouted at the top of his voice. 
 " This way ! To the ravine Silverheels ! Gum- 
 bo!" 
 
 They answered his calls and fought their way 
 toward him. Soon the three were together; and, 
 back to back, were struggling to disengage them- 
 selves from the red throng that thirsted for their 
 blood. 
 
 " Whar's de purty little gal ? " cried the negro, 
 grave concern in his voice. 
 
 " Safe safe ! " Paul cried in ringing tones.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 383 
 
 At that moment his feet again struck the path lead- 
 ing to the ravine, and he shouted triumphantly : 
 
 " Quick ! up there, Gumbo ! Follow, Silver- 
 heels ! " 
 
 Our three friends scrambled up the ascent and 
 reached the floor of the ravine. The Shawnee plant- 
 ed himself at the head of the steep path, and still 
 swinging his death-dealing rifle, uttered a war- 
 whoop that echoed throughout the glen. A number 
 of Indians essayed to ascend, but blows from 
 the butt of his gun dropped them into the depths 
 below. The others, seized with panic, tumbled over 
 each other in their attempt to escape. With fren- 
 zied howls of baffled rage, they collected at the foot 
 of the path. 
 
 " To the cavern ere the squaws recover their cour- 
 age ! " Silverheels whispered as he led the way. 
 
 A few minutes later they found themselves in the 
 large room of the cavern, and there began an ex- 
 amination of their wounds. Marie had received no 
 injury except a few bruises, but the three men had 
 not escaped so luckily. Paul had a deep knife-thrust 
 in his shoulder that bled profusely ; Gumbo, a lacer- 
 ated wound of the scalp ; and Silverheels, a number 
 of tomahawk-cuts about the back and head. In addi- 
 tion, all were suffering from the effect of their ex- 
 traordinary exertions. 
 
 After rekindling the fire and dressing their 
 wounds as well as they could under the circum- 
 stances, they disposed themselves to rest and sleep.
 
 384 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Paul and the negro threw themselves down near the 
 fire ; but the Shawnee chose a position at the inner 
 end of the winding passage, where he could hear the 
 slightest noise made by anyone trying to enter their 
 retreat.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 As MURKY dawn like one who had spent the 
 night in debauchery came staggering into 
 the valley of the Tuscarawas, Silverheels arose from 
 his hard bed and stretched his stiffened limbs with a 
 yawn of pain and unrest. The others were still 
 sleeping the sleep of utter exhaustion. Without dis- 
 turbing them, the Shawnee left the cavern. He 
 was gone but a few minutes. When he returned, he 
 sauntered to the mouth of the cave, looking down 
 upon the Indian village, and stood there for some 
 time, apparently lost in deep thought. Then he re- 
 traced his steps and, coming close to Paul, stooped 
 and touched his white friend upon the shoulder. 
 The latter awoke with a start and sprang erect. 
 
 "What is it, my red brother?" he asked. 
 
 " Within the cave it is night ; but without the 
 daylight shines," was the quiet reply. 
 
 " Is it morning?" 
 
 " Ugh ! " 
 
 " And what of our enemies ? " 
 
 " They are astir they are searching for us. The 
 village contains only the women and children ; the 
 warriors are abroad. They fill the ravine ; and their 
 25 (385)
 
 386 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 voices are heard on the hilltop over us. They know 
 we are not far away. They are smelling out our 
 trail." 
 
 " Do you think they will find our hiding place? " 
 Paul asked in concern. 
 
 " Ugh ! they are hounds. They are keen of 
 scent." 
 
 " Then we must prepare to repel them. They 
 must not gain admittance to the cave." 
 
 This was much easier to say than to do. Our 
 three friends were sore and weak; and their stock 
 of ammunition was running low. Besides, there 
 were but three of them. There were scores of their 
 enemies. 
 
 Paul and his companions cooked and ate a scanty 
 breakfast of venison, washed it down with copious 
 draughts of water procured from pools in the dark 
 and winding passage ; and anxiously awaited the 
 next move on the part of their enemies. It was 
 not long in coming. A series of triumphant yells, 
 floating in through the damp fissure in the rocks, 
 told that the Indians had discovered the entrance to 
 the cavern. 
 
 " They come ! " Graydon cried, excitedly. " Let 
 us meet them at the outer end of the passage and 
 beat them back." 
 
 " Wait," the Shawnee said, composedly. 
 
 The uproar in the ravine continued. Gumbo ner- 
 vously fingered his rifle and rolled his big eyes. 
 Marie clung to Paul in terror. He soothed her 
 fears and coaxed her to seat herself behind a pro-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 387 
 
 jecting point of rock, out of the way of stray bul- 
 lets. Then he turned upon Silverheels and sharply 
 demanded : 
 
 " What do you mean by standing here idle? They 
 will be upon us ere we can strike a blow." 
 
 The Shawnee replied contemptuously : " White 
 Eagle does not know the cowardly Delaware and 
 Wyandot squaws. They will not creep into the den 
 of the gray wolf, until he is tamed by fire and 
 smoke." 
 
 " They will attempt to drive us out? " 
 
 "Ugh!" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " As they force the gray wolf from his lair by 
 flame and smoke." 
 
 " But they can't succeed ; there are too many open- 
 ings to the cavern," Paul cried exultingly. 
 
 Silverheels nodded and replied : " White Eagle is 
 brave and wise. He speaks words of truth. The 
 cave is large and the outlets for smoke are many. 
 The Delawares and Wyandots cannot smoke us 
 out." 
 
 The crackle and roar of leaping flames came to 
 their ears; and the blue-black smoke of burning 
 brush and leaves rolled into the cave, in dense vol- 
 umes. It circled and eddied around and through 
 the great room, and drove the occupants nearer and 
 nearer to the outlet facing the valley. It arose to 
 the vaulted roof and found its way through the 
 manv cracks and crevices in the shale-rock. It
 
 388 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 poured out at the opening, where Paul and his com- 
 panions stood, but not in sufficient volume to seri- 
 ously inconvenience them. One moment they were 
 almost blinded and smothered by it. The next mo- 
 ment the fresh air drove it back ; and they breathed 
 freely. 
 
 Hidden by the fringe of bushes, they stood upon 
 the narrow shelf of stone and peeped down upon the 
 scene spread out beneath them. Suddenly, Silver- 
 heels uttered a guttural exclamation of surprise and 
 pointed to the edge of the forest below the village. 
 The others looked in the direction indicated, and 
 observed a squad of warriors emerging from the 
 woods and hurrying toward the council lodge that 
 stood near the bank of the river. They conducted a 
 white prisoner, who walked with bowed head. His 
 captives hurried him forward, buffeting him with 
 taunts and jeers. Paul caught his breath sharply, 
 rubbed his eyes and looked again. 
 
 " If de Injin debils ain't done gone tooken dat 
 runnygatin' Red Wallace captive," Gumbo ejacu- 
 lated explosively, " den dis nigger's stone blind 
 dat's all ! " 
 
 " It's the outlaw ! " Marie gasped. " What can it 
 mean ? " 
 
 " He has proven traitor to his Indian allies ; he 
 has tried to slip away from them, and they have 
 caught him," Paul said. " Is it not so, my red 
 brother?" 
 
 " Ugh ! " Silverheels grunted, " the Red Fox is
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 389 
 
 sly ! he would slip away without paying- the gold he 
 promised. Bitter Water last night informed the 
 Delaware chieftain of what she had heard Red Fox 
 say to the blue-eyed maiden. She was at the chief- 
 tain's lodge when we bore away the maiden. The 
 braves laid a trap for the Red Fox. He sought to 
 steal away while the warriors were absent. Ugh! 
 he is a fool. He will die at the stake ! " 
 
 " We couldn't aid him if we would," Paul re- 
 marked musingly ; " and I don't know that I should 
 save him, if I had the opportunity. It is a fit end 
 for him. He showed no mercy. And yet " 
 
 The redmen, bearing the prisoner, had nearly 
 reached the council lodge, when they came to a stop, 
 and, gesticulating, pointed to the spot where the 
 four fugitives stood. The distance was about two 
 hundred yards ; and the movements of the Indians 
 were distinctly visible. Paul ceased speaking and 
 drew farther into the shadow of the cavern. Gum- 
 bo and Marie followed his example ; but the Shaw- 
 nee stolidly maintained his position upon the outer- 
 most edge of the shelf of rock. 
 
 " Have they discovered us, that they gaze so 
 earnestly in this direction?" the young man in- 
 quired. 
 
 Silverheeels slowly shook his head. 
 
 " The Delaware braves see the smoke issuing 
 from the mouth of our hiding place. It tells them 
 they cannot smoke us out. See ! They send a mes- 
 senger to tell those in the ravine of their discovery.
 
 390 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 White Eagle, we must prepare to defend ourselves. 
 The cavern will soon swarm with painted warriors." 
 
 Realizing the truth of the Indian's words, Paul 
 requested him to assume the leadership and to di- 
 rect what should be done to make their refuge as 
 impregnable as possible. Presently the cave began 
 to clear of smoke, thus showing that their enemies 
 had withdrawn the fire and were preparing to enter. 
 At the Shawnee's suggestion, the three men erected 
 a barrier of large stones across the middle of the 
 black and crooked entrance, and piled smaller 
 stones near at hand, to be used in repelling their as- 
 sailants. When this was done, they left Marie in 
 the large and dry apartment, and stationed them- 
 selves behind the wall. Paul was the last to leave 
 his sweetheart. 
 
 " Be not cast down, dear one," he said. " All 
 chance of escape isn't yet gone. No doubt we shall 
 "be able to beat them back. The outlaw isn't here 
 to urge them on; and they will not relish a hand- 
 to-hand encounter in the dark and narrow passage. 
 Pray that God may lend us strength and courage ! " 
 
 " I shall pray for you, my Paul," she answered, 
 clinging to his hand ; " and God will hear my pray- 
 er. He will not desert us in our hour of greatest 
 need. Go and may He help us ! " 
 
 An hour passed; and the three men, crouched 
 upon the damp rock-floor, heard or saw no signs 
 of their foes. Silverheels was on the point of climb- 
 ing over the rocky obstruction and creeping to the
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 391 
 
 outer end of the corridor, to ascertain the designs 
 of the Indians, when a flaming torch bobbed around 
 a sharp turn, revealing the forms of warriors ad- 
 vancing cautiously along the passage. 
 
 " Dar dey comes ! " whispered Gumbo, " An' 
 dey's negotiatin' a torch along wid 'em, jes to show 
 us whar dey is. Dey's de mos' obligin' an omniv- 
 erous red debils " 
 
 He had leveled his rifle and had his finger on the 
 trigger, when Silverheels caught his arm and said: 
 
 "Wait!" 
 
 On came the leader of the party, holding the 
 torch aloft, and peering into every shadowy nook 
 and cranny, while his companions crowded close 
 upon his heels. They were but a few yards distant. 
 
 "Now!" 
 
 It was Silverheels who spoke. The three rifles 
 cracked simultaneously; and the effect of the ex- 
 plosion was something terrific. The torch carried 
 by the Indians was extinguished. The pent air 
 rushed this way and that, bits of stone and shale 
 dropped from the walls and roof ; and the deafening 
 report rolled and reverberated along the narrow, 
 winding way, like the crash of heavy thunder. The 
 yells, groans, and hurrying footsteps of the retreat- 
 ing Indians could be heard. Then all was silence. 
 
 " That was easily done ! " Paul cried, trium- 
 phantly. 
 
 " Done skeered de In] in debils dean outen dnr 
 skins ! " the negro chuckled, slapping his thigh and
 
 392 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 dancing around in the darkness. " I doesn't s'pose 
 dey'll eber come back some mo' ; dey doesn't like de 
 deception we gib 'em." 
 
 Silverheels said nothing, but went on reloading 
 his gun as fast as he could. Noting this, Paul and 
 Gumbo followed his example. 
 
 " Will they come again ? " the young Englishman 
 inquired. 
 
 " Ugh ! The Dela wares and Wyandots thirst for 
 blood ; they will come again and in greater numbers. 
 Hist!" 
 
 Silverheels' companions scarcely breathed, they 
 listened so intently ; but no sound except the soft 
 drip of water came to their ears. 
 
 " I hear nothing," Graydon whispered, with his 
 face close to the Shawnee's. 
 
 " They come ; they wriggle forward like serpents, 
 in the thick blackness," was breathed into the young 
 man's ear. 
 
 " Shall I have time to go to Marie, ere they are 
 upon us ? " Paul asked eagerly. 
 
 " Hear you not their quick breathing? Already 
 they are upon us. Fire ! " 
 
 Again the three rifles belched flame; and again 
 the walls of the cavern vibrated with the force of the 
 explosion. But the effect produced upon the In- 
 dians was far different from that before. Instead of 
 retreating, they arose, yelling and firing, and rushed 
 upon the barricade. The cave resounded with the 
 clash and shock of conflict. Paul and his comrades
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 393 
 
 dropped their rifles and hurled stones upon the 
 swarming red men, as they came on, but could not 
 check their impetuous onslaught. In the darkness 
 neither friend nor foe was distinguishable. The 
 warriors reached the barricade and attempted to 
 scale it. The trio behind it again seized their guns 
 and rained blow after blow upon the heads of their 
 assailants. High above all other sounds, rose the 
 war-whoop of the Shawnee and the stentorian bel- 
 low of the darky. Paul fought silently and with 
 grim determination. The Indians in the rear crowd- 
 ed upon those in front, and by mere weight of num- 
 bers threatened to carry the barricade. Time after 
 time, stalwart braves gained the top of the wall, only 
 to receive death wounds and fall back among their 
 companions, or topple over upon the men they 
 sought to slay. A blow upon the head dropped Paul 
 senseless and bleeding, upon the floor. But Silver- 
 heels and Gumbo continued to fight like fiends. Lit- 
 tle by little their strength was leaving them; soon 
 they must succumb to superior numbers. Just at the 
 moment when the darky's gun was wrested from his 
 grasp, there came a diversion in favor of the two 
 hard-pressed men. 
 
 Marie was crouched in an obscure corner of the 
 large room of the cave, and pressing her fingers into 
 her ears to shut out the noise of the conflict. In 
 spite of her efforts, she heard the shouts, the blows 
 and groans, and the ring of steel on steel, as gun- 
 barrels, knives and tomahawks met and clashed in
 
 394 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 the narrow corridor. At last nearly crazed by 
 fear, and hardly knowing what she did she 
 snatched a blazing torch from the fire and holding 
 it aloft, rushed toward the scene of combat. There 
 a horrifying spectacle was revealed to her, by the 
 smoky light of the torch she carried. The rough 
 rock-walls were bespattered with blood and brains, 
 and the floor was strewn with the bodies of dead 
 and wounded Indians. Among the fallen she saw 
 the form of her lover. Gumbo and Silverheels were 
 battling desperately, covered with blood from the 
 wounds they had received. The barricade was 
 broken down; and they, in the midst of struggling, 
 yelling Indians. 
 
 Like the phantasm of a nightmare, all this flashed 
 upon her much more quickly than it takes to tell it. 
 Then she saw the negro borne to the floor, and a 
 knife raised to kill him. With a scream of frenzy, 
 the girl leaped forward and thrust the torch into the 
 mocking face of the warrior bending over her black 
 friend. The Indian's plaited locks, saturated with 
 bear's grease, caught fire and burned fiercely. With 
 a scream of fright and pain, he struggled to his feet ; 
 and, like a blazing meteor, shot down the corri- 
 dor, spreading consternation and confusion in his 
 course. In the crowd, he communicated the flames 
 to the hair and garments of several other mem- 
 bers of the band. Superstitious terror seized them, 
 for but one or two had seen Marie's act; and with 
 howls of pain and fear they beat a hasty retreat
 
 The girl leaped forward and thrust thi- torch into the 
 mocking face of the wanior
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 395 
 
 toward the open air, leaving their dead and wounded 
 behind them. The thoughtless act of the French 
 girl had saved her friends for the time being at 
 least. 
 
 A half hour later, the Shawnee and his compan- 
 ions were reassembled around the fire in the cavern. 
 Marie, seated upon the stone floor, held Paul's head 
 in her lap, while Silverheels bathed the unconscious 
 man's face and temples in cold water brought from 
 the damp corridor. Gumbo, with his broken arm in 
 a sling made of his leathern belt, stood looking down 
 upon his white friend and silently wiping the trick- 
 ling blood and tears from his own black face. The 
 Shawnee's head, shoulders, and arms were hacked 
 and bruised in a frightful manner ; but he made no 
 complaint. Without manifesting a twinge or grim- 
 ace of pain, he went on administering to the wants 
 of the others. Marie rocked herself to and fro as 
 she bathed and caressed Paul's cut and blackened 
 face, and shuddered as the groans of the wounded 
 Indians in the passage came to her ears. 
 
 "Poor Marse Paul my dear, good marster!" 
 Gumbo murmured. " Is he gwine to die, Silber- 
 heels?" 
 
 As if in answer, Paul slowly opened his eyes, 
 sighed deeply and attempted to arise. 
 
 " Thank God, he lives ! " Marie cried. 
 
 " Ugh, he lives ! " grunted the Shawnee. Then to 
 Paul : " Lie still ; White Eagle is weak and faint."
 
 396 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 With another deep-drawn sigh, the Englishman 
 turned his face toward Marie and asked faintly : 
 
 "You're unhurt?" 
 
 " I'm safe and sound, dear," she whispered. 
 " Don't worry." 
 
 " And Gumbo and Silverheels? " 
 
 " They are both here." 
 
 The darky was crying for joy as he blubbered: 
 
 " I's all right, Marse Paul jes got a broke arm, 
 an' a few cuts, an' scratches, an' strains, an' bruises, 
 an' a few t'ings ob dat kind. I's gittin' 'long firs' 
 rate, Marse Paul ! " 
 
 " My red brother " And Paul feebly stretched 
 forth his hand " you are still alive, but you are 
 badly injured." 
 
 The Indian took the proffered hand as he replied : 
 " Ugh ! Silverheels is alive ; the knives of the Dela- 
 wares and Wyandots failed to find his heart. The 
 Shawnee will live to send his enemies to the spirit- 
 land!" 
 
 " And and the battle you beat them off ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! They are gone. But their dead and dy- 
 ing strew the floor of the cave." 
 
 " And will they renew the attack, my red 
 brother? " Paul asked in a stronger voice. 
 
 The semblance of a grim smile twitched the cor- 
 ners of the Shawnee's mouth. 
 
 " The Delaware and Wyandot braves will not re- 
 turn. They will not again seek death in the dark-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 397 
 
 ness. The blue-eyed maiden taught them a new 
 lesson they will not soon forget." 
 
 " What do you mean? " Paul said with a show of 
 animation, as he struggled to a sitting posture and 
 supported his dizzy head upon his hand. 
 
 " Let the blue-eyed maiden herself explain," re- 
 turned Silverheels, turning his back and striding 
 toward the mouth of the cavern. 
 
 Marie, in few words, told her lover how she had 
 dispersed the howling pack of human wolves. 
 When she had finished, he replied, feelingly: 
 
 " My brave little woman ! Surely God directed 
 your act! Had it not been for you, not one of us 
 would have lived to tell of the fight. As it is, we 
 are in desperate straits. Should the Indians again 
 attack us, God alone knows what the result will be, 
 for we are too sorely wounded to defend ourselves 
 against such odds. Nor are we in better condition to 
 withstand a siege ; we haven't enough meat remain- 
 ing to last a day. However, I don't despair. Your 
 prayers have proved of avail. God is with us. 
 Hark! What's that?" 
 
 The three listened intently for a full minute. 
 
 " Guess you didn't hear nuffin' 'tall, Marse Paul," 
 Gumbo remarked at last. 
 
 " But I did," Paul insisted ; and, with Marie's aid, 
 he got upon his feet and stood trembling by her 
 side. 
 
 " Mus' ob been dem hurt Tnjins," the darky sug- 
 gested.
 
 398 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 Gray don shook his head : " No, it sounded like 
 the murmur of many voices; and! I think it came 
 from the valley. Where's Silverheels ? " 
 
 " At the mouth of the cavern," Marie answered. 
 
 " There it is again and it's the sound of voices," 
 Paul cried excitedly. " Go, Gumbo, and see what it 
 means.'* 
 
 When the negro reached the shelf of rock at the 
 outlet looking down upon the valley, he found Sil- 
 verheels standing like a carved figure of stone, upon 
 the outer edge of the projecting ledge, gazing fix- 
 edly toward the Indian lodges. A great stir and 
 tumult was going on. Indians were pouring down 
 from the ravine and hillside and gathering in circles 
 around a group of horsemen. The strangers were 
 wiry, muscular, dark-complexioned men, dressed in 
 the motley but picturesque garb peculiar to the fur- 
 traders and adventurers of the forest wilds. There 
 were twelve of them; and, besides the horses they 
 bestrode, they had with them a number of pack- 
 horses. 
 
 The Delawares and Wyandots were much excited. 
 They talked and gesticulated wildly, pointing toward 
 the cave and the ravine, and shaking aloft their 
 arms as they did so. The leader of the newcomers 
 raised his hand and commanded silence. Then he 
 called to him a number of the chiefs, and, dismount- 
 ing, appeared to hold a consultation with them. 
 Gumbo saw all this and his eyes bulged with curi- 
 osity and excitement.
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 399 
 
 " Who am dem folkses, Silberheels ? " he asked in 
 eager accents. 
 
 But the Shawnee did not deign to reply. On the 
 contrary, leaving the negro staring after him, he 
 returned to Paul and Marie. 
 
 " Help is at hand," he said abruptly. 
 
 Incredulity was depicted upon the young English- 
 man's countenance, as he replied : 
 
 " Help ? I don't understand you." 
 
 " Black Jacques is in the village of the redmen." 
 
 " And who is Black Jacques, pray ? " 
 
 " A Frenchman a trader among the tribes. He 
 is here with men and horses ; he comes to barter for 
 peltries." 
 
 " Will he interfere in our behalf? " 
 
 " Ugh ! He is a friend of Silverheels ; the Shaw- 
 nee once saved his life." 
 
 At that moment Gumbo came hurrying toward 
 them, his sable face shining with excitement. 
 
 " Dar's a man on horseback, right down at de foot 
 ob de cliff," he cried ; " an' he's gesticulatin' a white 
 rag on a ramrod, an' denouncin' de fack dat he 
 wants to hoi' a parley wid some ob us! Come 
 quick, Marse Paul, an' see ! " 
 
 As rapidly as his enfeebled condition would per- 
 mit, Paul, supported by Marie and his two com- 
 rades, hastened toward the mouth of the cave.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 HELLO! Hello, up there!" was the cry that 
 floated up from the valley. 
 
 With shaking hands, Graydon parted the fringe 
 of bushes upon the edge of the shelf of rock, and 
 peered down upon the solitary horseman beneath. 
 
 " Hello ! " the stranger shouted in a louder voice. 
 His face upturned, he closely scanned the opening in 
 the cliff, as he repeated his call. Paul saw the man 
 was alone. Grasping the bushes firmly and bending 
 forward, the young Englishman cried: 
 
 " Who are you, and what do you want ? " 
 
 " I come with a flag of truce. The Indians desire 
 to remove their dead and wounded from the cave. 
 Will you permit them to enter and bear the bodies 
 away ? " 
 
 " What assurance have we that the savages aren't 
 seeking an opportunity to renew the attack ? " 
 
 " The word of a man who has never yet deceived 
 another, no matter what was the color of his skin," 
 returned the stranger. He spoke English well, but 
 with a foreign accent. 
 
 " Wait a moment ; I must consult with my com- 
 rades." 
 
 Paul withdrew his head, and, turning to Silver- 
 heels, said : 
 (400)
 
 7JV THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 401 
 
 " You heard the stranger's request. What hav- 
 you to say? " 
 
 The Shawnee was watching the movements of 
 the Indians in the village ; and he did not remove his 
 eyes from them as he answered: 
 
 " Black Jacques speaks words of truth. He has 
 not a split tongue." 
 
 " You know him," Paul said eagerly ; " step out 
 here and speak to him." 
 
 Silverheels, still looking toward the village, de- 
 cidedly shook his head. 
 
 " You will not? " Paul asked in surprise, not un- 
 mixed with irritation. 
 
 " No," was the unmoved rejoinder. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "If Black Jacques wants to see the Shawnee, he 
 will ask for him," Silverheels answered proudly. 
 
 " Perhaps he doesn't know you are with us." 
 
 " The Delawares and Wyandots have told him 
 that their bitter enemy is in the cave. He knows the 
 Shawnee is here. Silverheels has ears he will 
 answer when he hears his name." 
 
 With an impatient gesture, Paul returned to his 
 former position and called to the horseman below : 
 
 " Tell the Delawares and Wyandots they may 
 carry off their dead and wounded, if you and your 
 men accompany them." 
 
 " Very well," the stranger answered ; " you shall 
 not have reason to regret your decision, young 
 26
 
 402 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 man. Is a Shavvnee Indian, called Silverheels, with 
 you?" 
 
 "He is." 
 
 " Tell him to come to the mouth of the cave ; 
 Black Jacques desires to speak with him." 
 
 Paul stepped back a few paces, and Silverheels 
 took his place. For several minutes the stranger 
 conversed with him, in the guttural language of the 
 Shawnee. Then Black Jacques wheeled his horse 
 and galloped back to the motley assembly in the cen- 
 ter of the Indian village; and Silverheels and his 
 friends re-entered the cavern. 
 
 The Shawnee volunteered no information of what 
 had passed between him and the stranger ; but, 
 stirring up the fire, unconcernedly, commenced to 
 cook their midday meal of venison. A few minutes 
 later, Black Jacques and two of his men, accompan- 
 ied by a number of the Indians, entered the passage 
 and began the removal of the dead and wounded 
 savages. Five of the redmen were dead, three more 
 were in a dying condition, and several others were 
 so seriously wounded that they could not get away 
 unaided. While his men and the Indians were en- 
 gaged in this work of mercy, Black Jacques found 
 his way into the main apartment of the cave. 
 
 He was a middle-aged man of medium height and 
 weight, with strong, active limbs and erect carriage. 
 His swarthy face, tanned a deeper shade by exposure 
 to the elements, was smooth-shaven, wizened and 
 leathery. His raven-black hair without a trace
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 403 
 
 of gray in it rippled down upon his square shoul- 
 ders ; and his beady black eyes roved restlessly. His 
 dress of tanned buckskin was ornamented with beads 
 and trinkets ; and one side of his broad-rimmed hat 
 was pinned up with a brooch of gold while over 
 the other side drooped a black plume. Besides the 
 handsome rifle that he carried, he was armed with a 
 brace of silver-mounted pistols and a jewel-hilted 
 dagger. 
 
 On entering the presence of our friends, he walk- 
 ed up to Silverheels and, taking the latter's hand, 
 said cordially: 
 
 " My Shawnee friend, many months have passed 
 since last I saw you. At that time, you saved my 
 life when your own tribe sought to take it. I need 
 not recall the circumstance. Now I may be able to 
 repay the debt. At any rate I will make the attempt. 
 These are your friends ? " 
 
 " Ugh ! " grunted Silverheels, stooping to rescue 
 a slice of venison that had dropped upon the coals. 
 
 Black Jacques turned to Paul and abruptly de- 
 manded his name. 
 
 " Paul Graydon," the young Englishman an- 
 swered, half amused at the other's brusque manner. 
 
 " I find you in trouble. Tell me why you are 
 here. The Indians have given me their version of 
 the affair." 
 
 Paul complied with the fur-trader's request, giv- 
 ing a terse but graphic account of the attack upon 
 Big Bottom, and subsequent events. When the
 
 404 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 young man had finished, Black Jacques nodded his 
 head vigorously several times, shrugged his shoul- 
 ders and replied: 
 
 " Very good. But what motive had the outlaw in 
 leading the Indians against the settlement? " 
 
 Paul explained fully, concealing nothing. The 
 fur-trader plied his questions as one having author- 
 ity, and the other did not think of refusing to an- 
 swer. As the young man concluded, Black Jacques's 
 eyes emitted sparks of anger and his chest heaved 
 with suppressed emotion. He exclaimed hoarsely: 
 
 " Red Wallace ! the infernal scoundrel ! I know 
 him know him well. A merciless knave! But 
 he has overshot the mark this time. He has tried 
 double-dealing with the Indians. He lies a prisoner 
 in the village ; and they will burn him at the stake. 
 Little's the pity ! It will be a good riddance. Young 
 man, you say your name is Paul Graydon?" 
 
 " My name is Paul Graydon." 
 
 " You are an American ? " 
 
 " I am an Englishman by birth ; but I have spent 
 my life in Virginia." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 A scowl of dislike clouded the fur-trader's leath- 
 ery face. He went on slowly : 
 
 " And / am a Frenchman ; and I owe nothing to 
 the English and Virginians but hate. The great sor- 
 row of my life lies in the fact that I once visited 
 Virginia. Who who is this young woman ? " 
 
 At that moment Marie, who had been standing in
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 405 
 
 the shadow, moved forward into the full light of the 
 fire. The Frenchman started back as he caught 
 sight of her face ; and stammeringly asked the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " This is the young woman who was kidnaped," 
 Paul explained. 
 
 " Yes yes ; I know. But who is she where is 
 she from ? " 
 
 The fur-trader was becoming more and more agi- 
 tated. He stared so hard at Marie that her eyes fell 
 and her cheeks flushed. Her heart was beating 
 wildly. She was strangely moved she did not 
 know why. Paul was half angry at what he con- 
 sidered the Frenchman's bold admiration of the 
 golden-haired girl; and it was with scant courtesy 
 that he replied : 
 
 " She, too, comes from Virginia ; but what can it 
 matter to you ? " 
 
 " Much or little ! " Black Jacques cried excitedly. 
 Then, taking a step forward, he faced Marie and 
 commanded : 
 
 " Tell me the truth, girl tell me naught but the 
 truth! You are from Virginia?" 
 
 " I am," Marie answered quietly, stepping a little 
 nearer to Paul. 
 
 " From the Shenandoah ! " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And your name quick, tell me your name ! " 
 
 " Marie Fontanelle." 
 
 The leathery face became the color of old parch-
 
 406 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 ment. Black Jacques stood with staring eyes and 
 parted lips, trying to speak. But no sound issued 
 from his throat. At last he found voice to say fal- 
 teringly : 
 
 " Your your mother is Ruth Meeks ! " 
 
 " Yes," Marie replied wonderingly, " but she is 
 dead she died at my birth." 
 
 " Dead dead ! " he murmured brokenly, as he 
 bowed his head. 
 
 Paul placed an arm around the trembling form 
 of his sweetheart, and regarded the Frenchman 
 askance. The young Englishman thought the other 
 daft. Gumbo, with open mouth, took in every- 
 thing that was done and said, and for a wonder 
 kept silent. The Shawnee coolly went on cooking 
 venison, glancing from the corners of his eyes, at 
 the others, without turning his head. 
 
 " And your father was Jacques Fontanelle, a 
 French fur-trader! " 
 
 It was the Frenchman who spoke. Marie started 
 and cried eagerly : 
 
 " Yes yes ! Have you known him ? Tell me 
 of him." 
 
 Very softly, very earnestly, he answered : 
 
 " Dear child, / am Jacques Fontanelle / am 
 your father! " 
 
 " What ! " was the exclamation that burst from 
 Paul's lips. 
 
 With the explosive expression " Fo' de good
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 407 
 
 'd's sake ! " Gumbo took a step backward, al- 
 most tumbling over the kneeling form of Silverheels. 
 
 " You cannot mean it ! " Marie murmured, with 
 one hand pressed to her heart. " You, my father? " 
 
 " Yes ! Let me prove to you that I am Jacques 
 Fontanelle. Here is a lock of your mother's hair 
 that I have carried with me all the years since last I 
 saw her. In color and texture, it matches your own. 
 You are the image of your mother, my child. But 
 your disposition is French. I was struck by the 
 marked resemblance, as soon as I saw you. You 
 know the tragedy of your parents' lives. I wan- 
 dered into the Shenandoah valley; met and loved 
 your mother, who was as beautiful as yourself. I 
 married her. But when her relatives ascertained 
 that I was a despised Frenchman, I was com- 
 pelled to flee for my life. I left behind me my wife 
 and unborn child, and returned to the lonely and 
 hazardous life of a fur-trader among the Indians. 
 Knowing that your mother's brothers your un- 
 cles, Isaac, John and others were ready and anx- 
 ious to slay me, I never dared to return to the valley. 
 I, who have courage enough to brave the dangers 
 of the wilderness, have been too cowardly to face 
 the men who unjustly deprived me of all I held 
 dear ! " 
 
 This last sentence he uttered with great bitter- 
 ness and scorn. He continued: 
 
 " How I have suffered no one but my God knows ! 
 Sleeping and waking, your mothei's tearful face
 
 408 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 
 
 has been before me. A thousand times I have re- 
 solved to go back to risk all for a glimpse of her. 
 Each time fear overcame me with shame I con- 
 fess it! I have made a fortune in the fur trade. 
 But until this hour it has meant nothing to me. Now 
 now " 
 
 His voice faltered and broke. Tears came to 
 his eyes and trickled down his leathery cheeks. 
 Stretching forth his arms, he sobbed : 
 
 " Marie, my child, will you not come to me ? " 
 
 She was trembling like a leaf, as she looked up 
 into Paul's face for counsel. His voice choked with 
 emotion, he said: 
 
 " He is your father ! " 
 
 With a glad cry, she sprang into the outstretched 
 arms ; and for the first time Jacques Fontanelle held 
 his child to his heart sobbing until his wiry frame 
 shook. Then he lifted her head and kissed her again 
 and again; and, holding her at arm's length, mur- 
 mured softly : 
 
 " How like your mother how like your 
 mother ! " 
 
 Gumbo was wild with delight. He danced and 
 capered around the cave, to the infinite disgust of 
 the dignified Shawnee, who regarded him in much 
 the same way that a sedate mastiff regards a sporti 
 poodle. 
 
 " Kiyi ! " the darky shouted. " If dis nigger isn't 
 eberlastin'ly an' redickerlously kerflummixed, den he
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 409 
 
 doesn't know hisse'f dat's all! Lawzee! but ol' 
 Gumbo jes' feels like shoutin' halleluyer ! " 
 
 Paul, his sweetheart, and her father seated them- 
 selves upon the stone floor and conversed in low 
 tones. The noon hour was forgotten. They talked 
 of the past and made plans for the future, forget- 
 ting that they were still in the heart of the wilder- 
 ness, surrounded by savage foes. Marie shyly told 
 her father that she loved Paul and was his affianced 
 wife. 
 
 " You shall have the man of your choice, my 
 daughter, even though that man is an Englishman," 
 Jacques Fontanelle said, smiling sadly ; " and if love 
 and wealth count for aught, you shall be happy." 
 
 Then directing his words to Paul, he continued: 
 
 " I must go now to plead your cause with the In- 
 dians. You and your companions have slain a num- 
 ber of their young men ; and the savages thirst for 
 revenge. But I have great influence with them. I 
 have traded with them for years, and have befriend- 
 ed them in many ways; I shall find some way to 
 win them from their purpose. Keep close in the 
 cave ; do nothing to incite the red men to renew the 
 attack. I shall return to you as soon as I have ar- 
 ranged matters with the chiefs of the tribes." 
 
 He spoke a few words to Silverheels in the Shaw- 
 nee tongue, and left the cavern. Hour after hour 
 passed. Our friends partook of the meat the Shaw- 
 nee had cooked, and anxiously awaited the return of 
 Marie's father. The sun sank behind the western
 
 410 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 hills ; and the stars again peeped into the wooded 
 valley. But Jacques Fontanelle came not. Gumbo 
 leaned against the rough wall and tenderly nursed 
 his broken arm. Paul and Marie, in feverish 
 anxiety, paced the uneven floor; and Silverheels 
 moodily sat by the fire, stirring the warm ashes 
 with the toe of his moccasin. At last a step was 
 heard; and the next moment the fur-trader was 
 among them. Throwing upon the smouldering fire 
 the torch he carried, he said cheerily: 
 
 " It took time, but my persuasive powers proved 
 irresistible. A liberal supply of ammunition, blank- 
 ets, and trinkets, helped me to convince them that 
 you have been sinned against more than you have 
 sinned. Come, let's join my men in the village. 
 The Indians have granted me the privilege of using 
 the council lodge, until I am through trading with 
 them. We'll take up our quarters there until we are 
 ready to start for Detroit." 
 
 " Detroit ? " Paul interrupted. 
 
 " Yes, my home is there ; and you and my daugh- 
 ter are to accompany me to that place. Your black 
 companion goes with you. As for your red friend, 
 Silverheels " and the fur-trader turned toward 
 the Shawnee "he returns to his lodge upon the 
 Moose Eye. He understands all. He would not be 
 safe in the village of his enemies, and he does not 
 care to lower his dignity by going there. Silver- 
 heels, here is the ammunition I promised to bring
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 411 
 
 you. Ere the sun rises, you will be many miles 
 from here. I bid you farewell." 
 
 Jacques Fontanelle took a brand from the fire, 
 swung it around his head until it burst into flame, 
 and, with the words, " Follow me," strode toward 
 the passage leading to the ravine. Paul and Marie 
 waited to bid Silverheels good-by ; but the Shawnee 
 muttered : " Not yet ; I go a short distance with 
 you." 
 
 When the party reached the middle of the pass- 
 age, the Shawnee came to a sudden halt and said : 
 
 " Here we part. White Eagle and the blue-eyed 
 maiden return to their people ; the Shawnee goes 
 back to his lonely lodge upon the Bald Eagle. 
 Should we meet no more beneath the bright skies 
 and by the rippling waters, we may meet no more 
 forever; for the God of the paleface is not the red- 
 man's God. Be that as it may, the heart of Silver- 
 heels is glad that he has known and loved White 
 Eagle. When the Shawnee sits by the red embers 
 on a winter night, and hears the whistling blast 
 among the trees, he will think of his white brother ; 
 and when the wild flowers again cover hillside and 
 valley, the Shawnee's heart will be grieved that 
 White Eagle is far away. My white brother, fare- 
 well!" 
 
 He took leave of Gumbo, Marie and her father 
 first. The young woman wrung his hand and bade 
 him a tearful good-by. Then he caught Paul's hand 
 in a viselike grip and clung to it as though he could
 
 412 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 not let it go. Paul could scarcely murmur his thanks 
 for all the other had done for him. 
 
 Quickly Silverheels dropped the young man's 
 hand; and, squeezing his body through a narrow 
 cleft in the wall, was gone. He had taken the secret 
 outlet, of which he had told his white friend, and 
 of which no human being but himself knew. 
 
 The others accompanied the fur-trader to the In- 
 dian village and joined his men in the council lodge. 
 There they found an abundance of food and a com- 
 fortable place to sleep. Paul had his wounds dressed 
 by one of the French Canadians, who possessed 
 some skill in surgery, and Gumbo had his broken 
 arm splintered and bandaged. 
 
 For three days, Jacques Fontanelle and his party 
 remained in the village of the Delawares and Wyan- 
 dots, trading blankets, ammunition, beads and trink- 
 ets of many kinds, for peltries. On the day of their 
 departure for Detroit, occurred an incident that is 
 worth recording. The pack-horses were drawn up 
 in line; the saddle-horses stood ready, when an In- 
 dian slipped to the Frenchman's side and told him 
 Red Wallace wished to see him and his daughter be- 
 fore they left the village. 
 
 With some surprise and perturbation, the fur- 
 trader took Marie by the hand and led her to the hut 
 where the outlaw was confined. They found him 
 lying upon the bare ground in a corner of the small 
 room. His long, red hair was matted around his 
 forehead and temples. His flabby face had lost its
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 413 
 
 ruddy glow and was pale and cadaverous. The cor- 
 ners of his sensual mouth drooped and his sunken 
 eyes told of his base and cowardly fear of death. 
 
 The Indian who brought the father and daughter 
 stood on guard at the door, while they were within. 
 
 " Come, fellow, be brisk," was Jacques Fon- 
 tanelle's curt greeting ; " we have no time to waste 
 on such as you." 
 
 Wallace fastened his hollow eyes upon Marie's 
 face, but said nothing: 
 
 " What do you want ? " the fur-trader asked 
 gruffly. 
 
 " Save me save me ! They will bum me at the 
 stake I " gasped the cringing wretch. 
 
 " Is that all you want ? We can do nothing for 
 you that you well know. Come, my daughter." 
 
 " Mercy ! " the white lips whispered. 
 
 " You deserve no mercy ! What mercy have you 
 shown to others?" Jacques Fontanelle coolly re- 
 plied. 
 
 He plucked Marie by the arm and started toward 
 the door. She hesitated, and murmured the one 
 word "Father!" 
 
 "Well, child?" 
 
 " Stand in the door and engage the Indian's atten- 
 tion ; I wish to speak to this man." 
 
 " Very well ; but hurry." 
 
 As soon as her father had planted himself in the 
 doorway, with his back toward her, she quickly drew 
 from the bosom of her tattered gown the dagger she
 
 414 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 had carried there for days. With a single sweep, 
 she severed the thongs that bound the renegade's 
 wrists ; and, dropping the knife by his side, mur- 
 mured : 
 
 " I return to you your weapon. Brutal, cowardly 
 murderer that you are, you shall have a chance to 
 fight for your life ! " 
 
 Before he could recover from his surprise, she had 
 passed from the cabin with her father. Keeping the 
 divided cords about his wrists, and rolling over up- 
 on the knife to conceal it, Wallace lay perfectly 
 quiet while the Indian guard came in and inspected 
 the interior. After a cursory examination, the red- 
 man withdrew. Two hours later, when he again 
 entered the hut, he found the outlaw a corpse. 
 Feeling that final escape from the Indians was im- 
 possible, and fearing that death at the stake was 
 inevitable, Red Wallace had plunged his dagger into 
 his own heart!
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE warp has been laid ; the woof is completed ; 
 and but a few scattered threads remain to be 
 gathered and knotted. 
 
 Two weeks after their arrival in Detroit, Paul and 
 Marie were quietly married. Jacques Fontanelle 
 was a wealthy and liberal man, and wished to cele- 
 brate the marriage of his only child as befitted her 
 station ; but Marie would not have it so. And Ma- 
 rie's word was law in the household. 
 
 Paul prepared to engage in the fur-trade with 
 his father-in-law ; but soon the atmosphere along 
 the border was pulsating with the pent power of 
 the coming conflict between the white and red races ; 
 and the fur trade was unprofitable and unsafe. 
 Black Jacques, with a lifelong experience of Indian 
 treachery and cruelty, decided that there was noth- 
 ing to do but to stay quietly in Detroit until the 
 war was over. 
 
 There our friends remained for several years. 
 During all this time they heard little of Marietta and 
 the valley of the Muskingum, and nothing of Hester 
 Lovelace. At last, there came a letter from a lawyer 
 in Virginia who had learned Graydon's address 
 from a Virginian, who had returned from Detroit to 
 
 <4is)
 
 416 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 his native heath stating that the young English- 
 man's cousin had died intestate, and requesting him 
 to come home immediately and enter into possession 
 of the vast property that was rightfully and legally 
 his. 
 
 Jacques Fontanelle determined to dispose of his 
 possessions and take up his residence with his chil- 
 dren and grandchildren in the valley of the Shen- 
 andoah. One beautiful spring day they set out 
 upon their long journey, provided with an ample 
 escort for their comfort and safety. They went 
 by way of Marietta, arriving there after a weari- 
 some journey of many days. In the thriving village 
 upon the banks of the Ohio and Moose Eye, Paul 
 learned of the fate of Hester. 
 
 While Red Wallace was gone upon his final mis- 
 sion to the Delawares and Wyandots, in burning 
 expectancy she waited for the consummation of her 
 vengeance. Day by day, when recovering from a 
 violent attack of coughing, she would wipe the 
 bloody froth from her pallid lips, and whisper : 
 
 ' Oh, that he would hurry ! I fear that I shall 
 die ere my stroke of vengeance falls ! " 
 
 At last, came the news of the massacre at Big 
 Bottom the startling tidings that surprised and 
 horrified everyone but herself. Mr. Gosney and 
 good wife, with whom she lived, were frightened; 
 and with many others sought safety within the shel- 
 tering walls of Campus Martius. When they 
 begged her to accompany them, she sneeringly re-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLA1R 417 
 
 fused. None knew so well as she that no attack 
 would be made upon Marietta. Alone she sat by the 
 fire in the cabin, and chuckled and muttered in dia- 
 bolical glee : 
 
 ; Tis done ! She is lost to him forever ! I am 
 revenged upon him. He has gone to search for her ; 
 and he will return a broken-hearted man. Ah! 
 sweet is revenge! When he comes to me to seek 
 consolation as he will I shall mock him ; for I 
 hate him I hate him ! No no ! God help me ! 
 I love him still I " 
 
 She bowed her face upon her transparent hands 
 and was silent for some moments. Then she con- 
 tinued to commune with herself: 
 
 " 'Tis done but at what a cost ! The guilt of 
 murder rests upon my soul. No! he alone is to 
 blame! Paul is to blame. He drove me to mad- 
 ness. I was mad mad! And I'm in that base 
 renegade's power I must marry him. Marry 
 him ? No ! No ! I shall escape him. A few short 
 weeks and I shall be the bride of Death ! And must 
 I lose Paul, after all! Oh! empty, worthless and 
 pitiable vengeance is, when the heart is starving 
 for love ! " And she burst into a fit of weeping. 
 
 " Lost lost ! " she muttered. " I have played 
 the game through and have lost all. It is all false. 
 My revenge is false bitter and false. No it's 
 not so! I am happy I am elated I am in an 
 ecstacy of delight! Have I not accomplished my 
 27
 
 418 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 purpose? God help me! I cannot deceive myself 
 I am wretched, friendless, alone ! " 
 
 She arose and glanced hurriedly around, as 
 though expecting some dread presence. 
 
 " I must hurry I must escape ! " she faintly 
 whispered. " Wallace will be here soon to claim 
 his own. When he comes I must be gone. And 
 I shall never see Paul again ! I am going back 
 home to the dear old home to die ! " 
 
 A few days later, notwithstanding the protesta- 
 tions of her friends, she joined a small party of re- 
 turning emigrants ; and, consuming with feverish 
 haste and excitement, set out for home. But she 
 was not again permitted to see the sun rise above 
 the tops of the Blue Ridge and light up the grand 
 old valley of the Shenandoah. One night her party 
 stopped at a little wayside tavern in the mountains. 
 Before morning, she was taken with a profuse hem- 
 orrhage, and died. Her kind-hearted companions 
 buried her in a lonely place upon the mountain 
 side; and pushed on toward their destination. 
 Years afterward, Paul Graydon found her grave 
 and marked the spot with a marble shaft. Poor 
 
 Hester Lovelace! 
 
 ******* 
 
 When Jacques Fontanelle and his party arrived 
 in Marietta, Marie hurried to the blockhouse, ex- 
 pecting to find her friend still there. What was her 
 disappointment to learn that Governor St. Clair and 
 his children had gone back to their farm in Penn-
 
 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 41$ 
 
 sylvania ! The old soldier, defeated and disgraced, 
 and openly scorned by those who once had fawned 
 upon him, had retired to the privacy of his home, 
 a broken man. 
 
 For years after her mother died, Louise was her 
 father's housekeeper, his adviser and comforter. 
 Long years after the time of which we write, she 
 and Marie again met and renewed their early friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Paul found Prince, his noble black horse, in the 
 keeping of Colonel Sproat, where Governor St. Clair 
 had placed the animal. It was hard to tell which 
 was more overjoyed at the meeting the horse or 
 his master. 
 
 Xo one could give our friends tidings of Silver- 
 heels. For a time after his return from the Tusca- 
 ravvas, he occupied his lodge upon the Moose Eye at 
 the Mouth of the Bald Eagle. When the Indian 
 war came on, he disappeared; and, at the time of 
 their visit to Marietta, he had not returned. It was 
 a source of bitter disappointment to Paul, that he 
 could not again meet his red brother ere leaving the 
 Northwest Territory, for Virginia. 
 
 If as local tradition records the Shawnee at 
 last came back to the bonny Muskingum, to wreak 
 his vengeance upon those who had buffeted and 
 debased him, it but shows one side of his red nature ; 
 and if he stoically met death at the hands of a 
 cowardly assassin, it reveals another. The incon-
 
 420 IN THE DAYS OF ST. CLAIR 
 
 trovertible fact remains, that he never forgot a 
 friend nor forgave an enemy. He had in him the 
 blood of two races but he was a Shawnee ! 
 
 (THE END.)
 
 
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