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The Spirit of the Border-Part22_Zane Gray(1872-1939)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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and gratitude, he obeyed.

The maiden turned to Joe. Though traces of pride still lingered, all her fire



had vanished. Her bosom rose with each quick-panting breath; her lips

quivered, she trembled like a trapped doe.



But at last the fluttering lashes rose. Joe saw two velvety eyes dark with

timid fear, yet veiling in their lustrous depths an unuttered hope and love.



"Whispering Winds--save--paleface," she said, in a voice low and tremulous.

"Fear--father. Fear--tell--Wingenund--she--Christian."



Indian summer, that enchanted time, unfolded its golden, dreamy haze over the

Delaware village. The forests blazed with autumn fire, the meadows boomed in



rich luxuriance. All day low down in the valleys hung a purple smoke which

changed, as the cool evening shades crept out of the woodland, into a cloud of



white mist. All day the asters along the brooks lifted golden-brown faces to

the sun as if to catch the warningwarmth of his smile. All day the plains and



forests lay in melancholyrepose. The sad swish of the west wind over the tall

grass told that he was slowly dying way before his enemy, the north wind. The



sound of dropping nuts was heard under the motionless trees.

For Joe the days were days of enchantment. His wild heart had found its mate.



A willingcaptive he was now. All his fancy for other women, all his memories

faded into love for his Indian bride.



Whispering Winds charmed the eye, mind, and heart. Every day her beauty seemed

renewed. She was as apt to learn as she was quick to turn her black-crowned



head, but her supreme beauty was her loving, innocent soul. Untainted as the

clearest spring, it mirrored the purity and simplicity of her life. Indian she



might be, one of a race whose morals and manners were alien to the man she

loved, yet she would have added honor to the proudest name.



When Whispering Winds raised her dark eyes they showed radiant as a lone star;

when she spoke low her voice made music.



"Beloved," she whispered one day to him, "teach the Indian maiden more love

for you, and truth, and God. Whispering Winds yearns to go to the Christians,



but she fears her stern father. Wingenund would burn the Village of Peace. The

Indian tribes tremble before the thunder of his wrath. Be patient, my chief.



Time changes the leaves, so it will the anger of the warriors. Whispering

Winds' will set you free, and be free herself to go far with you toward the



rising sun, where dwell your people. She will love, and be constant, as the

northern star. Her love will be an eternal spring where blossoms bloom ever



anew, and fresh, and sweet. She will love your people, and raise Christian

children, and sit ever in the door of your home praying for the west wind to



blow. Or, if my chief wills, we shall live the Indian life, free as two eagles

on their lonely crag."



Although Joe gave himself up completely to his love for his bride, he did not

forget that Kate was in the power of the renegade, and that he must rescue



her. Knowing Girty had the unfortunate girls somewhere near the Delaware

encampment, he resolved to find the place. Plans of all kinds he resolved in



his mind. The best one he believed lay through Whispering Winds. First to find

the whereabouts of Girty; kill him if possible, or at least free Kate, and



then get away with her and his Indian bride. Sanguine as he invariably was, he

could not but realize the peril of this undertaking. If Whispering Winds



betrayed her people, it meant death to her as well as to him. He would far

rather spend the remaining days of his life in the Indian village, than doom



the maiden whose love had saved him. Yet he thought he might succeed in

getting away with her, and planned to that end. His natural spirit, daring,



reckless, had gained while he was associated with Wetzel.

Meanwhile he mingled freely with the Indians, and here, as elsewhere, his



winning personality, combined with his athleticprowess, soon made him well

liked. He was even on friendly terms with Pipe. The swarthy war chief liked



Joe because, despite the animosity he had aroused in some former lovers of

Whispering Winds, he actually played jokes on them. In fact, Joe's pranks



raised many a storm; but the young braves who had been suitors for Wingenund's

lovely daughter, feared the muscular paleface, and the tribe's ridicule more;



so he continued his trickery unmolested. Joe's idea was to lead the savages to




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