"I will stay with you, and you need not talk if you do not wish."
Thus reassured Myeerah allowed Betty to lead her down stairs. Isaac had gone
ahead and was
waiting at the door.
The big room was
brilliantly lighted with pine knots. Mrs. Zane was arranging
the dishes on the table. Old Sam and Annie were hurrying to and fro from the
kitchen. Col. Zane had just come up the
cellar stairs carrying a mouldy
looking cask. From its appearance it might have been a powder keg, but the
merry
twinkle in the Colonel's eyes showed that the cask contained something
as precious, perhaps, as powder, but not quite so dangerous. It was a cask of
wine over thirty years old. With Col. Zane's other effects it had stood the
test of the long wagon-train journey over the Virginia mountains, and of the
raft-ride down the Ohio. Col. Zane thought the feast he had arranged for Isaac
would be a
fitting occasion for the breaking of the cask.
Major McCullough, Capt. Boggs and Hugh Bennet had been invited. Wetzel had
been persuaded to come. Betty's friends Lydia and Alice were there.
As Isaac, with an air of pride, led the two girls into the room Old Sam saw
them and he exclaimed, "For de Lawd's sakes, Marsh Zane, dar's two pippins,
sure can't tell 'em from one anudder."
Betty and Myeerah did
resemble each other. They were of about the same size,
tall and
slender. Betty was rosy, bright-eyed and smiling; Myeerah was pale
one moment and red the next.
"Friends, this is Myeerah, the daughter of Tarhe," said Isaac simply. "We are
to be married to-morrow."
"Oh, why did you not tell me?" asked Betty in great surprise. "She said
nothing about it."
"You see Myeerah has that most excellent trait in a woman--knowing when to
keep silent," answered Isaac with a smile.
The door opened at this moment, admitting Will Martin and Alfred Clarke.
"Everybody is here now, Bessie, and I guess we may as well sit down to
supper," said Col. Zane. "And, good friends, let me say that this is an
occasion for
rejoicing. It is not so much a marriage that I mean. That we
might have any day if Lydia or Betty would show some of the alacrity which got
a good husband for Alice. Isaac is a free man and we expect his marriage will
bring about peace with a powerful tribe of Indians. To us, and particularly to
you, young people, that is a matter of great importance. The friendship of the
Hurons cannot but exert an influence on other tribes. I, myself, may live to
see the day that my dream shall be realized--peaceful and friendly relations
with the Indians, the freedom of the soil, well-tilled farms and growing
settlements, and at last, the
opening of this
glorious country to the world.
Therefore, let us
rejoice; let every one be happy; let your gayest laugh ring
out, and tell your best story."
Betty had blushed
painfully at the entrance of Alfred and again at the
Colonel's remark. To add to her
embarrassment she found herself seated
opposite Alfred at the table. This was the first time he had been near her
since the Sunday at the meeting-house, and the
incident had a
singular effect
on Betty. She found herself possessed, all at once, of an unaccountable
shyness, and she could not lift her eyes from her plate. But at length she
managed to steal a glance at Alfred. She failed to see any signs in his
beaming face of the broken spirit of which her brother had hinted. He looked
very well indeed. He was eating his dinner like any other
healthy man, and
talking and laughing with Lydia. This developed another unaccountable feeling
in Betty, but this time it was
resentment. Who ever heard of a man, who was as
much in love as his letter said, looking well and enjoying himself with any
other than the object of his affections? He had got over it, that was all.
Just then Alfred turned and gazed full into Betty's eyes. She lowered them
instantly, but not so quickly that she failed to see in his a reproach.
"You are going to stay with us a while, are you not?" asked Betty of Isaac.
"No, Betts, not more than a day or so. Now, do not look so distressed. I do
not go back as a prisoner. Myeerah and I can often come and visit you. But
just now I want to get back and try to prevent the Delawares from urging Tarhe
to war."
"Isaac, I believe you are doing the wisest thing possible," said Capt. Boggs.
"And when I look at your bride-to-be I
confess I do not see how you remained
single so long."
"That's so, Captain," answered Isaac. "But you see, I have never been
satisfied or
contented in
captivity, I wanted nothing but to be free."
"In other words, you were blind," remarked Alfred, smiling at Isaac.
"Yes, Alfred, was. And I imagine had you been in my place you would have
discovered the beauty and
virtue of my Princess long before I did.
Nevertheless, please do not favor Myeerah with so many admiring glances. She
is not used to it. And that reminds me that I must expect trouble tomorrow.
All you fellows will want to kiss her."
"And Betty is going to be maid of honor. She, too, will have her troubles,"
remarked Col. Zane.
"Think of that, Alfred," said Isaac "A chance to kiss the two prettiest girls
on the border--a chance of a lifetime."
"It is
customary, is it not?" said Alfred coolly.
"Yes, it's a custom, if you can catch the girl," answered Col. Zane.
Betty's face flushed at Alfred's cool
assumption. How dared he? In spite of
her will she could not
resist the power that compelled her to look at him. As
plainly as if it were written there, she saw in his steady blue eyes the light
of a memory--the memory of a kiss. And Betty dropped her head, her face
burning, her heart on fire with shame, and love, and regret.
"It'll be a good chance for me, too," said Wetzel. His remark
instantly turned
attention to himself.
"The idea is absurd," said Isaac. "Why, Lew Wetzel, you could not be made to
kiss any girl."
"I would not be
backward about it," said Col. Zane.
"You have forgotten the fuss you made when the boys were kissing me," said
Mrs. Zane with a fine scorn.
"My dear," said Col. Zane, in an aggrieved tone, "I did not make so much of a
fuss, as you call it, until they had kissed you a great many times more than
was reasonable."
"Isaac, tell us one thing more," said Capt. Boggs. "How did Myeerah learn of
your
capture by Cornplanter? Surely she could not have trailed you?"
"Will you tell us?" said Isaac to Myeerah.
"A bird sang it to me," answered Myeerah.
"She will never tell, that is certain," said Isaac. "And for that reason I
believe Simon Girty got word to her that I was in the hands of Cornplanter. At
the last moment when the Indians were lashing me to the stake Girty came to me
and said he must have been too late."
"Yes, Girty might have done that," said Col. Zane. "I suppose, though he dared
not
interfere in
behalf of poor Crawford."
"Isaac, Can you get Myeerah to talk? I love to hear her speak," said Betty, in
an aside.
"Myeerah, will you sing a Huron love-song?" said Isaac "Or, if you do not wish
to sing, tell a story. I want them to know how well you can speak our
language."
"What shall Myeerah say?" she said, shyly.
"Tell them the legend of the Standing Stone."
"A beautiful Indian girl once dwelt in the pine forests," began Myeerah, with
her eyes cast down and her hand seeking Isaac's. "Her voice was like rippling
waters, her beauty like the rising sun. From near and from far came
warriors
to see the fair face of this
maiden. She smiled on them all an they called her
Smiling Moon. Now there lived on the Great Lake a Wyandot chief. He was young
and bold. No
warrior was as great as Tarhe. Smiling Moon cast a spell o his
heart. He came many times to woo her and make be his wife. But Smiling Moon
said: 'Go, do great deeds, an come again.'
"Tarhe searched the east and the west. He brought her strange gifts from
strange lands. She said: 'Go and slay my enemies.' Tarhe went forth in his war
paint and killed the braves who named her Smiling Moon. He came again to her
and she said: 'Run swifter than the deer, be more
cunning than the beaver,
dive deeper than the loon.'
"Tarhe passed once more to the island where dwelt Smiling Moon. The ice was
thick, the snow was deep. Smiling Moon turned not from her warm fire as she
said: 'The chief is a great
warrior, but Smiling Moon is not easily won. It is
cold. Change winter into summer and then Smiling Moon will love him.'
"Tarhe cried in a loud voice to the Great Spirit: 'Make me a master.'
"A voice out of the forest answered: 'Tarhe, great
warrior, wise chief, waste
not thy time, go back to thy wigwam.'
"Tarhe unheeding cried 'Tarhe wins or dies. Make him a master so that he may
drive the ice northward.'
"Stormed the wild
tempest; thundered the rivers of ice chill blew the north
wind, the cold
northwest wind, against the mild south wind; snow-spirits and
hail-spirits fled before the warm raindrops; the white mountains melted, and
lo! it was summer.
"On the mountain top Tarhe waited for his bride. Never wearying, ever faithful
he watched many years. There he turned to stone. There he stands to-day, the
Standing Stone of ages. And Smiling Moon, changed by the Great Spirit into the
Night Wind, forever wails her
lament at dusk through the forest trees, and
moans over the mountain tops."
Myeerah's story elicited cheers and praises from all. She was entreated to
tell another, but smilingly shook her head. Now that her shyness had worn off
to some
extent she took great interest in the jest and the general
conversation.
Col. Zane's fine old wine flowed like water. The custom was to fill a guest's
cup as soon as it was empty. Drinking much was rather encouraged than
otherwise. But Col. Zane never allowed this custom to go too far in his house.
"Friends, the hour grows late," he said. "To-morrow, after the great event, we
shall have games, shooting matches,
running races, and contests of all kinds.
Capt. Boggs and I have arranged to give prizes, and I expect the girls can
give something to lend a zest to the competition."
"Will the girls have a chance in these races?" asked Isaac. "If so, I should
like to see Betty and Myeerah run."
"Betty can
outrun any woman, red or white, on the border," said Wetzel. "And
she could make some of the men run their level best."
"Well, perhaps we shall give her one opportunity to-morrow," observed the
Colonel. "She used to be good at
running but it seems to me that of late she
has taken to books and--"
"Oh, Eb! that is untrue," interrupted Betty.
Col. Zane laughed and patted his sister's cheek. "Never mind, Betty," and
then, rising, he continued, "Now let us drink to the bride and groom-to-be.
Capt. Boggs, I call on you."
"We drink to the bride's fair beauty; we drink to the groom's good luck," said
Capt. Boggs, raising his cup.
"Do not forget the maid-of-honor," said Isaac.
"Yes, and the maid-of-honor. Mr. Clarke, will you say something appropriate?"
asked Col. Zane.
Rising, Clarke said: "I would be glad to speak
fittingly on this occasion, but
I do not think I can do it justice. I believe as Col. Zane does, that this
Indian Princess is the first link in that chain of peace which will some day
unite the red men and the white men. Instead of the White Crane she should be
called the White Dove. Gentlemen, rise and drink to her long life and
happiness."
The toast was drunk. Then Clarke refilled his cup and
holding it high over his
head he looked at Betty.
"Gentlemen, to the maid-of-honor. Miss Zane, your health, your happiness, in
this good old wine."
"I thank you," murmured Betty with
downcast eyes. "I bid you all good-night.
Come, Myeerah."
Once more alone with Betty, the Indian girl turned to her with eyes like twin
stars.
"My sister has made me very happy," whispered Myeerah in her soft, low voice.
"Myeerah's heart is full."
"I believe you are happy, for I know you love Isaac dearly."
"Myeerah has always loved him. She will love his sister."
"And I will love you," said Betty. "I will love you because you have saved
him. Ah! Myeerah, yours has been wonderful, wonderful love."
"My sister is loved," whispered Myeerah. "Myeerah saw the look in the eyes of
the great
hunter. It was the sad light of the moon on the water. He loves you.
And the other looked at my sister with eyes like the blue of northern skies.
He, too, loves you."
"Hush!" whispered Betty, trembling and hiding her face. "Hush! Myeerah, do not
speak of him."
CHAPTER XI.
He following afternoon the sun shone fair and warm; the sweet smell of the
tan-bark pervaded the airs and the birds sang their gladsome songs. The scene
before the grim battle-scarred old fort was not without its picturesqueness.
The low vine-covered cabins on the hill side looked more like picture houses
than like real habitations of men; the mill with its burned-out roof--a
reminder of the Indians--and its great wheel, now silent and still, might have