"Colonel Zane, my first log-raising is an education to me," said the young
minister, in his earnest manner. "This scene is so full of life. I never saw

such goodwill among laboring men. Look at that brawny-armed giant standing on
the topmost log. How he whistles as he swings his ax! Mr. Wells, does it not

impress you?"
"The pioneers must be brothers because of their isolation and peril; to be

brothers means to love one another; to love one another is to love God. What
you see in this fraternity is God. And I want to see this same beautiful

feeling among the Indians."
"I have seen it," said Colonel Zane, to the old missionary" target="_blank" title="a.传教(士)的 n.传教士">missionary. "When I came out

here alone twelve years ago the Indians were peaceable. If the pioneers had
paid for land, as I paid Cornplanter, there would never have been a border

war. But no; the settlers must grasp every acre they could. Then the Indians
rebelled; then the Girtys and their allies spread discontent, and now the

border is a bloody warpath."
"Have the Jesuit missionaries accomplished anything with these war tribes?"

inquired Jim.
"No; their work has been chiefly among the Indians near Detroit and northward.

The Hurons, Delawares, Shawnees and other western tribes have been demoralized
by the French traders' rum, and incited to fiercehatred by Girty and his

renegades. Your work at Gnaddenhutten must be among these hostile tribes, and
it is surely a hazardous undertaking."

"My life is God's," murmured the old minister. No fear could assail his
steadfast faith.

"Jim, it strikes me you'd be more likely to impress these Indians Colonel Zane
spoke of if you'd get a suit like mine and wear a knife and tomahawk,"

interposed Joe, cheerfully. "Then, if you couldn't convert, you could scalp
them."

"Well, well, let us hope for the best," said Colonel Zane, when the laughter
had subsided. "We'll go over to dinner now. Come, all of you. Jonathan, bring

Wetzel. Betty, make him come, if you can."
As the party slowly wended its way toward the colonel's cabin Jim and Nell

found themselves side by side. They had not exchanged a word since the evening
previous, when Jim had kissed her. Unable to look at each other now, and

finding speech difficult, they walked in embarrassed silence.
"Doesn't Joe look splendid in his hunting suit?" asked Jim, presently.

"I hadn't noticed. Yes; he looks well," replied Nell, carelessly. She was too
indifferent to be natural.

"Are you angry with him?"
"Certainly not."

Jim was always simple and frank in his relations with women. He had none of
his brother's fluency of speech, with neither confidence, boldness nor

understanding of the intricate mazes of a woman's moods.
"But--you are angry with--me?" he whispered.

Nell flushed to her temples, yet she did not raise her eyes nor reply.
"It was a terrible thing for me to do," went on Jim, hesitatingly. "I don't

know why I took advantage--of--of your mistaking me for Joe. If you only
hadn't held up your mouth. No--I don't mean that--of course you didn't.

But--well, I couldn't help it. I'm guilty. I have thought of little else. Some
wonderful feeling has possessed me ever since--since---"

"What has Joe been saying about me?" demanded Nell, her eyes burning like
opals.

"Why, hardly anything," answered Jim, haltingly. "I took him to task
about--about what I considered might be wrong to you. Joe has never been very

careful of young ladies' feelings, and I thought--well, it was none of my
business. He said he honestly cared for you, that you had taught him how

unworthy he was of a good woman. But he's wrong there. Joe is wild and
reckless, yet his heart is a well of gold. He is a diamond in the rough. Just

now he is possessed by wild notions of hunting Indians and roaming through the
forests; but he'll come round all right. I wish I could tell you how much he

has done for me, how much I love him, how I know him! He can be made worthy of
any woman. He will outgrow this fiery, daring spirit, and then--won't you help

him?"
"I will, if he will let me," softly whispered Nell, irresistibly drawn by the

strong, earnest love thrilling in his voice.
Chapter X.

Once more out under the blue-black vault of heaven, with its myriads of
twinkling stars, the voyagers resumed their westward journey. Whispered

farewells of new but sincere friends lingered in their ears. Now the great
looming bulk of the fort above them faded into the obscure darkness, leaving a

feeling as if a protector had gone--perhaps forever. Admonished to absolute
silence by the stern guides, who seemed indeed to have embarked upon a dark

and deadlymission, the voyagers lay back in the canoes and thought and
listened. The water eddied with soft gurgles in the wake of the racing canoes;

but that musical sound was all they heard. The paddles might have been
shadows, for all the splash they made; they cut the water swiftly and

noiselessly. Onward the frail barks glided into black space, side by side,
close under the overhanging willows. Long moments passed into long hours, as

the guides paddled tirelessly as if their sinews were cords of steel.
With gray dawn came the careful landing of the canoes, a cold breakfast eaten

under cover of a willowthicket, and the beginning of a long day while they
were lying hidden from the keen eyes of Indian scouts, waiting for the

friendly mantle of night.
The hours dragged until once more the canoes were launched, this time not on

the broad Ohio, but on a stream that mirrored no shining stars as it flowed
still and somber under the dense foliage.

The voyagers spoke not, nor whispered, nor scarcely moved, so menacing had
become the slow, listening caution of Wetzel and Zane. Snapping of twigs

somewhere in the inscrutable darkness delayed them for long moments. Any
movement the air might resound with the horrible Indian war-whoop. Every

second was heavy with fear. How marvelous that these scouts, penetrating the
wilderness of gloom, glided on surely, silently, safely! Instinct, or the eyes

of the lynx, guide their course. But another dark night wore on to the tardy
dawn, and each of its fearful hours numbered miles past and gone.

The sun was rising in ruddy glory when Wetzel ran his canoe into the bank just
ahead of a sharp bend in the stream.

"Do we get out here?" asked Jim, seeing Jonathan turn his canoe toward
Wetzel's.

"The village lies yonder, around the bend," answered the guide. "Wetzel cannot
go there, so I'll take you all in my canoe."

"There's no room; I'll wait," replied Joe, quietly. Jim noted his look--a
strange, steady glance it was--and then saw him fix his eyes upon Nell,

watching her until the canoe passed around the green-bordered bend in the
stream.

Unmistakable signs of an Indian town were now evident. Dozens of graceful
birchen canoes lay upon the well-cleared banks; a log bridge spanned the

stream; above the slight ridge of rising ground could be seen the poles of
Indian teepees.

As the canoe grated upon the sandy beach a little Indian boy, who was playing
in the shallow water, raised his head and smiled.

"That's an Indian boy," whispered Kate.
"The dear little fellow!" exclaimed Nell.

The boy came running up to them, when they were landed, with pleasure and
confidence shining in his dusky eyes. Save for tiny buckskin breeches, he was

naked, and his shiny skin gleamed gold-bronze in the sunlight. He was a
singularly handsome child.

"Me--Benny," he lisped in English, holding up his little hand to Nell.
The action was as loving and trusting as any that could have been manifested

by a white child. Jonathan Zane stared with a curious light in his dark eyes;
Mr. Wells and Jim looked as though they doubted the evidence of their own

sight. Here, even in an Indian boy, was incontestable proof that the savage
nature could be tamed and civilized.

With a tender exclamation Nell bent over the child and kissed him.
Jonathan Zane swung his canoe up-stream for the purpose of bringing Joe. The

trim little bark slipped out of sight round the bend. Presently its gray,
curved nose peeped from behind the willows; then the canoe swept into view

again. There was only one person in it, and that the guide.
"Where is my brother?" asked Jim, in amazement.

"Gone," answered Zane, quietly.
"Gone! What do you mean? Gone? Perhaps you have missed the spot where you left

him."
"They're both gone."

Nell and Jim gazed at each other with slowly whitening faces.
"Come, I'll take you up to the village," said Zane, getting out of his canoe.

All noticed that he was careful to take his weapons with him.
"Can't you tell us what it means--this disappearance?" asked Jim, his voice

low and anxious.
"They're gone, canoe and all. I knew Wetzel was going, but I didn't calkilate