Milly--we never learned her other name. She come to me at the fort, an' tells

as how her folks hed been killed by Injuns, an' she wanted to git back to Pitt
to meet her sweetheart. I was ag'in her comin' all along, an' fust off I said

'No." But when I seen tears in her blue eyes, an' she puts her little hand on
mine, I jest wilted, an' says to Jim Blair, 'She goes.' Wal, jest as might

hev' been expected--an' fact is I looked fer it--we wus tackled by redskins.
Somehow, Jim Girty got wind of us hevin' a lass aboard, an' he ketched up with

us jest below here. It's a bad place, called Shawnee Rock, an' I'll show it to
ye termorrer. The renegade, with his red devils, attacked us thar, an' we had

a time gittin' away. Milly wus shot. She lived fer awhile, a couple of days,
an' all the time wus so patient, an' sweet, an' brave with thet renegade's

bullet in her--fer he shot her when he seen he couldn't capture her--thet thar
wusn't a blame man of us who wouldn't hev died to grant her prayer, which wus

that she could live to onct more see her lover."
There was a long silence, during which the old frontiersman sat gazing into

the fire with sad eyes.
"We couldn't do nuthin', an' we buried her thar under thet birch, where she

smiled her last sad, sweet smile, an' died. Ever since then the river has been
eatn' away at this island. It's only half as big as it wus onct, an' another

flood will take away this sand-bar, these few birches--an' Milly's grave."
The old frontiersman's story affected all his listeners. The elder minister

bowed his head and prayed that no such fate might overtake his nieces. The
young minister looked again, as he had many times that day, at Nell's winsome

face. The girls cast grave glances at the drooping birch, and their bright
tears glistened in the fire-glow. Once more Joe's eyes glinted with that

steely flash, and as he gazed out over the wide, darkening expanse of water
his face grew cold and rigid.

"I'll allow I might hev told a more cheerful story, an' I'll do so next time;
but I wanted ye all, particular the lasses, to know somethin' of the kind of

country ye're goin' into. The frontier needs women; but jist yit it deals hard
with them. An' Jim Girty, with more of his kind, ain't dead yit."

"Why don't some one kill him?" was Joe's sharp question.
"Easier said than done, lad. Jim Girty is a white traitor, but he's a cunnin'

an' fierce redskin in his ways an' life. He knows the woods as a crow does,
an' keeps outer sight 'cept when he's least expected. Then ag'in, he's got

Simon Girty, his brother, an' almost the whole redskin tribe behind him.
Injuns stick close to a white man that has turned ag'inst his own people, an'

Jim Girty hain't ever been ketched. Howsumever, I heard last trip thet he'd
been tryin' some of his tricks round Fort Henry, an' thet Wetzel is on his

trail. Wal, if it's so thet Lew Wetzel is arter him, I wouldn't give a pinch
o' powder fer the white-redskin's chances of a long life."

No one spoke, and Jeff, after knocking the ashes from his pipe, went down to
the raft, returning shortly afterward with his blanket. This he laid down and

rolled himself in it. Presently from under his coon-skin cap came the words:
"Wal, I've turned in, an' I advise ye all to do the same."

All save Joe and Nell acted on Jeff's suggestion. For a long time the young
couple sat close together on the bank, gazing at the moonlight on the river.

The night was perfect. A cool wind fanned the dying embers of the fire and
softly stirred the leaves. Earlier in the evening a single frog had voiced his

protest against the loneliness; but now his dismal croak was no longer heard.
A snipe, belated in his feeding, ran along the sandy shore uttering his

tweet-tweet, and his little cry, breaking in so softly on the silence, seemed
only to make more deeply felt the great vast stillness of the night.

Joe's arm was around Nell. She had demurred at first, but he gave no heed to
her slight resistance, and finally her head rested against his shoulder.

There was no need of words.
Joe had a pleasurable sense of her nearness, and there was a delight in the

fragrance of her hair as it waved against his cheek; but just then love was
not uppermost in his mind. All day he had been silent under the force of an

emotion which he could not analyze. Some power, some feeling in which the
thought of Nell had no share, was drawing him with irresistible strength. Nell

had just begun to surrender to him in the sweetness of her passion; and yet
even with that knowledge knocking reproachfully at his heart, he could not

help being absorbed in the shimmering water, in the dark reflection of the
trees, the gloom and shadow of the forest.

Presently he felt her form relax in his arms; then her soft regular breathing
told him she had fallen asleep and he laughed low to himself. How she would

pout on the morrow when he teased her about it! Then, realizing that she was
tired with her long day's journey, he reproached himself for keeping her from

the needed rest, and instantlydecided to carry her to the raft. Yet such was
the novelty of the situation that he yielded to its charm, and did not go at

once. The moonlight found bright threads in her wavy hair; it shone
caressingly on her quiet face, and tried to steal under the downcast lashes.

Joe made a movement to rise with her, when she muttered indistinctly as if
speaking to some one. He remembered then she had once told him that she talked

in her sleep, and how greatly it annoyed her. He might hear something more
with which to tease her; so he listened.

"Yes--uncle--I will go--Kate, we must--go. . ."
Another interval of silence, then more murmurings. He distinguished his own

name, and presently she called clearly, as if answering some inward
questioner.

"I--love him--yes--I love Joe--he has mastered me. Yet I wish he were--like
Jim--Jim who looked at me--so--with his deep eyes--and I. . . ."

Joe lifted her as if she were a baby, and carrying her down to the raft,
gently laid her by her sleeping sister.

The innocent words which he should not have heard were like a blow. What she
would never have acknowledged in her waking hours had been revealed in her

dreams. He recalled the glance of Jim's eyes as it had rested on Nell many
times that day, and now these things were most significant.

He found at the end of the island a great, mossy stone. On this he climbed,
and sat where the moonlight streamed upon him. Gradually that cold bitterness

died out from his face, as it passed from his heart, and once more he became
engrossed in the silver sheen on the water, the lapping of the waves on the

pebbly beach, and in that speaking, mysterious silence of the woods.
When the first faint rays of red streaked over the eastern hill-tops, and the

river mist arose from the water in a vapory cloud, Jeff Lynn rolled out of his
blanket, stretched his long limbs, and gave a hearty call to the morning. His

cheerfulwelcome awakened all the voyagers except Joe, who had spent the night
in watching and the early morning in fishing.

"Wal, I'll be darned," ejaculated Jeff as he saw Joe. "Up afore me, an'
ketched a string of fish."

"What are they?" asked Joe, holding up several bronze-backed fish.
"Bass--black bass, an' thet big feller is a lammin' hefty 'un. How'd ye ketch

'em?"
"I fished for them."

"Wal, so it 'pears," growled Jeff, once more reluctantly yielding to his
admiration for the lad. "How'd ye wake up so early?"

"I stayed up all night. I saw three deer swim from the mainland, but nothing
else came around."

"Try yer hand at cleanin' 'em fer breakfast," continued Jeff, beginning to
busy himself with preparations for that meal. "Wal, wal, if he ain't

surprisin'! He'll do somethin' out here on the frontier, sure as I'm a born
sinner," he muttered to himself, wagging his head in his quaint manner.

Breakfast over, Jeff transferred the horses to the smaller raft, which he had
cut loose from his own, and, giving a few directions to Bill, started

down-stream with Mr. Wells and the girls.
The rafts remained close together for a while, but as the current quickened

and was more skillfully taken advantage of by Jeff, the larger raft gained
considerable headway, gradually widening the gap between the two.

All day they drifted. From time to time Joe and Jim waved their hands to the
girls; but the greater portion of their attention was given to quieting the

horses. Mose, Joe's big white dog, retired in disgust to the hut, where he
watched and dozed by turns. He did not fancy this kind of voyaging. Bill

strained his sturdy arms all day on the steering-oar.
About the middle of the afternoon Joe observed that the hills grew more rugged

and precipitous, and the river ran faster. He kept a constantlookout for the
wall of rock which marked the point of danger. When the sun had disappeared

behind the hills, he saw ahead a gray rock protruding from the green foliage.
It was ponderous, overhanging, and seemed to frown down on the river. This was

Shawnee Rock. Joe looked long at the cliff, and wondered if there was now an
Indian scout hidden behind the pines that skirted the edge. Prominent on the