push themselves through the
densely packed rooms they kissed the bride, and
then the first girl they came to.
Betty and Lydia had been Alice's maids of honor. This being Betty's first
experience at a
frontierwedding, it developed that she was much in need of
Lydia's advice, which she had
previously disdained. She had rested secure in
her
dignity. Poor Betty! The first man to kiss Alice was George Martin, a big,
strong fellow, who gathered his brother's bride into his arms and gave her a
bearish hug and a resounding kiss. Releasing her he turned toward Lydia and
Betty. Lydia eluded him, but one of his great hands clasped around Betty's
wrist. She tried to look
haughty, but with
everyone laughing, and the young
man's face
expressive of honest fun and happiness she found it impossible. She
stood still and only turned her face a little to one side while George kissed
her. The young men now made a rush for her. With blushing cheeks Betty, unable
to stand her ground any longer, ran to her brother, the Colonel. He pushed her
away with a laugh. She turned to Major McColloch, who held out his arms to
her. With an
exclamation she wrenched herself free from a young man, who had
caught her hand, and flew to the Major. But alas for Betty! The Major was not
proof against the
temptation and he kissed her himself.
"Traitor!" cried Betty, breaking away from him.
Poor Betty was in
despair. She had just made up her mind to
submit when she
caught sight of Wetzel's familiar figure. She ran to him and the
hunter put
one of his long arms around her.
"I
reckon I kin take care of you, Betty," he said, a smile playing over his
usually stern face. "See here, you young bucks. Betty don't want to be kissed,
and if you keep on pesterin' her I'll have to scalp a few of you."
The
merriment grew as the day progressed. During the
wedding feast great
hilarity prevailed. It culminated in the dance which followed the dinner. The
long room of the block-house had been decorated with evergreens, autumn leaves
and goldenrod, which were scattered profusely about, hiding the blackened
walls and bare rafters. Numerous blazing pine knots, fastened on sticks which
were stuck into the walls, lighted up a scene, which for color and animation
could not have been surpassed.
Colonel Zane's old slave, Sam, who furnished the music, sat on a raised
platform at the upper end of the hall, and the way he sawed away on his
fiddle, accompanying the movements of his arm with a swaying of his body and a
stamping of his heavy foot, showed he had a
heartyappreciation of his own
value.
Prominent among the men and women
standing and sitting near the
platform could
be
distinguished the tall forms of Jonathan Zane, Major McColloch and Wetzel,
all, as usual, dressed in their
huntingcostumes and carrying long rifles. The
other men had made more or less effort to improve their appearance. Bright
homespun shirts and scarfs had replaced the
everyday buckskin garments. Major
McColloch was talking to Colonel Zane. The
genial faces of both reflected the
pleasure they felt in the
enjoyment of the younger people. Jonathan Zane stood
near the door. Moody and silent he watched the dance. Wetzel leaned against
the wall. The black
barrel of his rifle lay in the hollow of his arm. The
hunter was
gravely contemplating the members of the
bridal party who were
dancing in front of him. When the dance ended Lydia and Betty stopped before
Wetzel and Betty said: "Lew, aren't you going to ask us to dance?"
The
hunter looked down into the happy, gleaming faces, and smiling in his half
sad way, answered: "Every man to his gifts."
"But you can dance. I want you to put aside your gun long enough to dance with
me. If I waited for you to ask me, I fear I should have to wait a long time.
Come, Lew, here I am asking you, and I know the other men are dying to dance
with me," said Betty, coaxingly, in a roguish voice.
Wetzel never refused a request of Betty's, and so, laying aside his weapons,
he danced with her, to the wonder and
admiration of all. Colonel Zane clapped
his hands, and
everyone stared in
amazement at the
unprecedented sight Wetzel
danced not un
gracefully. He was
wonderfully light on his feet. His striking
figure, the long black hair, and the fancifully embroidered
costume he wore
contrasted
strangely with Betty's
slender,
graceful form and pretty gray
dress.
"Well, well, Lewis, I would not have believed anything but the evidence of my
own eyes," said Colonel Zane, with a laugh, as Betty and Wetzel approached
him.
"If all the men could dance as well as Lew, the girls would be
thankful, I can
assure you," said Betty.
"Betty, I declare you grow prettier every day," said old John Bennet, who was
standing with the Colonel and the Major. "If I were only a young man once more
I should try my chances with you, and I wouldn't give up very easily."
"I do not know, Uncle John, but I am inclined to think that if you were a
young man and should come a-wooing you would not get a
rebuff from me,"
answered Betty, smiling on the old man, of whom she was very fond.
"Miss Zane, will you dance with me?"
The voice sounded close by Betty's side. She recognized it, and an
unaccountable
sensation of shyness suddenly came over her. She had
firmly made
up her mind, should Mr. Clarke ask her to dance, that she would tell him she
was tired, or engaged for that number--anything so that she could avoid
dancing with him. But, now that the moment had come she either forgot her
resolution or lacked the courage to keep it, for as the music commenced, she
turned and without
saying a word or looking at him, she placed her hand on his
arm. He whirled her away. She gave a start of surprise and delight at the
familiar step and then gave herself up to the charm of the dance. Supported by
his strong arm she floated around the room in a sort of dream. Dancing as they
did was new to the young people at the Fort--it was a style then in vogue in
the east--and
everyone looked on with great interest and
curiosity. But all
too soon the dance ended and before Betty had recovered her
composure she
found that her
partner had led her to a secluded seat in the lower end of the
hall. The bench was
partly obscured from the dancers by masses of autumn
leaves. "That was a very pleasant dance," said Alfred. "Miss Boggs told me you
danced the round dance."
"I was much surprised and pleased," said Betty, who had indeed enjoyed it.
"It has been a
delightful day," went on Alfred,
seeing that Betty was still
confused. "I almost killed myself in that race for the bottle this morning. I
never saw such logs and brush heaps and ditches in my life. I am sure that if
the fever of recklessness which seemed in the air had not suddenly seized me I
would never have put my horse at such leaps."
"I heard my brother say your horse was one of the best he had ever seen, and
that you rode superbly," murmured Betty.
"Well, to be honest, I would not care to take that ride again. It certainly
was not fair to the horse."
"How do you like the fort by this time?"
"Miss Zane, I am
learning to love this free, wild life. I really think I was
made for the
frontier. The odd customs and manners which seemed strange at
first have become very
acceptable to me now. I find
everyone so honest and
simple and brave. Here one must work to live, which is right. Do you know, I
never worked in my life until I came to Fort Henry. My life was all
uselessness, idleness."
"I can hardly believe that," answered Betty. "You have
learned to dance and
ride and--"
"What?" asked Alfred, as Betty hesitated.
"Never mind." It was an
accomplishment with which the girls credited you,"
said Betty, with a little laugh.
"I suppose I did not
deserve it. I heard I had a
singular aptitude for
discovering young ladies in distress."
"Have you become well acquainted with the boys?" asked Betty, hastening to
change the subject.
"Oh, yes, particularly with your Indianized brother, Isaac. He is the finest
fellow, as well as the most interesting, I ever knew. I like Colonel Zane
immensely too. The dark, quiet fellow, Jack, or John, they call him, is not
like your other brothers. The
hunter, Wetzel, inspires me with awe. Everyone
has been most kind to me and I have almost forgotten that I was a wanderer."
"I am glad to hear that," said Betty.
"Miss Zane," continued Alfred, "doubtless you have heard that I came West
because I was compelled to leave my home. Please do not believe everything you
hear of me. Some day I may tell you my story if you care to hear it. Suffice
it to say now that I left my home of my own free will and I could go back