glorious strength, your
incomparable woodcraft, you are the man to kill Girty.
Rid the
frontier of this fiend. Kill him! Wetzel, kill him! I
beseech you for
the sake of some sweet girl who even now may be on her way to this terrible
country, and who may fall into Girty's power--for her sake, Wetzel, kill him.
Trail him like a bloodhound, and when you find him remember my broken heart,
remember Nell, remember, oh, God! remember poor Kate!"
Young's voice broke into dry sobs. He had completely exhausted himself, so
that he was forced to lean against the tree for support.
Wetzel spoke never a word. He stretched out his long, brawny arm and gripped
the young
missionary's shoulder. His fingers clasped hard. Simple, without
words as the action was, it could not have been more
potent. And then, as he
stood, the softer look faded slowly from his face. A
ripple seemed to run over
his features, which froze, as it subsided, into a cold, stone rigidity.
His arm dropped; he stepped past the tree, and, bounding
lightly as a deer,
cleared the creek and disappeared in the bushes.
Mr. Wells carried Nell to his cabin where she lay for hours with wan face and
listless languor. She swallowed the nourishing drink an old Indian nurse
forced between her teeth; she even smiled weakly when the missionaries spoke
to her; but she said nothing nor seemed to rally from her terrible shock. A
dark shadow lay always before her,
conscious of nothing present, living over
again her
frightful experience. Again she seemed sunk in dull apathy.
"Dave, we're going to loose Nell. She's fading slowly," said George, one
evening, several days after the girl's return. "Wetzel said she was unharmed,
yet she seems to have received a hurt more fatal than a
physical one. It's her
mind--her mind. If we cannot
brighten her up to make her forget, she'll die."
"We've done all within our power. If she could only be brought out of this
trance! She lies there all day long with those staring eyes. I can't look into
them. They are the eyes of a child who has seen murder."
"We must try in some way to get her out of this stupor, and I have an idea.
Have you noticed that Mr. Wells has failed very much in the last few weeks?"
"Indeed I have, and I'm afraid he's breaking down. He has grown so thin, eats
very little, and doesn't sleep. He is old, you know, and,
despite his zeal,
this border life is telling on him."
"Dave, I believe he knows it. Poor,
earnest old man! He never says a word
about himself, yet he must know he is going down hill. Well, we all begin,
sooner or later, that
descent which ends in the grave. I believe we might stir
Nellie by telling her Mr. Wells' health is breaking."
"Let us try."
A
hurried knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
"Come in," said Edwards.
The door opened to admit a man, who entered eagerly.
"Jim! Jim!" exclaimed both missionaries, throwing themselves upon the
newcomer.
It was, indeed, Jim, but no answering smile lighted his worn, distressed face
while he wrung his friends' hands.
"You're not hurt?" asked Dave.
"No, I'm uninjured."
"Tell us all. Did you escape? Did you see your brother? Did you know Wetzel
rescued Nell?"
"Wingenund set me free in spite of many demands for my death. He kept Joe a
prisoner, and intends to kill him, for the lad was Wetzel's
companion. I saw
the
hunter come into the glade where we camped, break through the line of
fighting Indians and carry Nell off."
"Kate?" faltered Young, with ashen face.
"George, I wish to God I could tell you she is dead," answered Jim,
nervously
pacing the room. "But she was well when I last saw her. She
endured the hard
journey better than either Nell or I. Girty did not carry her into the
encampment, as Silvertip did Joe and me, but the renegade left us on the
outskirts of the Delaware town. There was a rocky
ravine with dense
undergrowth where he disappeared with his
captive. I suppose he has his den
somewhere in that
ravine."
George sank down and buried his face in his arms; neither
movement nor sound
betokened
consciousness.
"Has Wetzel come in with Nell? Joe said he had a cave where he might have
taken her in case of
illness or accident."
"Yes, he brought her back," answered Edwards, slowly.
"I want to see her," said Jim, his
haggard face expressing a keen anxiety.
"She's not wounded? hurt? ill?"
"No, nothing like that. It's a shock which she can't get over, can't forget."
"I must see her," cried Jim, moving toward the door.
"Don't go," replied Dave, detaining him. "Wait. We must see what's best to be
done. Wait till Heckewelder comes. He'll be here soon. Nell thinks you're
dead, and the surprise might be bad for her."
Heckewelder came in at that moment, and shook hands warmly with Jim.
"The Delaware
runner told me you were here. I am overjoyed that Wingenund