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Updated: June 12, 2025
Only for Deathwind will Ashbow trade his captive." "See? It ain't no use," said Legget, spreading out his hands, "Let him go. He'll outwit the bordermen if any redskin's able to. The sooner he goes the quicker he'll git back, an' we can go to work. You ought'er be satisfied to git the girl " "Shut up!" interrupted Brandt sharply.
Here on the highest headland for miles around where the bordermen were wont to meet, the outlook was far-reaching and grand. Below the gray, splintered cliffs sheered down to meet the waving tree-tops, and then hill after hill, slope after slope, waved and rolled far, far down to the green river. Open grassy patches, bright little islands in that ocean of dark green, shone on the hillsides.
The bordermen crept up as close as safe, and remained on watch during the day and night. Early next morning, when the air was fading from black to gray, the silence was broken by the snapping of twigs and a tremor of the ground. The bordermen believed another company of Indians was approaching; but they soon saw it was a single white man leading a number of horses. He departed before daybreak.
This caution, and evident distrust of the forest ahead, made Helen think again of Jonathan and Wetzel. Those great bordermen might already be on the trail of her captors. The thought thrilled her.
"It's caught all right," cried Brandt in a voice which cut the air like a blow from a knife. "I'll not be smoked like a ham, fer all these tricky bordermen," roared Legget. Drawing his knife he hacked at the heavy buckskin hinges of the rude door. When it dropped free he measured it against the open space.
Legget leaped back with a curse. "Close shave!" said Brandt coolly. "That bullet came, probably, straight down from the top of the cliff. Jack Zane's there. Wetzel is lower down watching the outlet. We're trapped." "Trapped," shouted Legget with an angry leer. "We kin live here longer'n the bordermen kin. We've meat on hand, an' a good spring in the back of the hut. How'er we trapped?"
The Indian guards stopped suddenly, and became motionless as stone. They had heard; but too late. With the blended roar of the rifles both dropped, lifeless. Almost under the spouting flame and white cloud of smoke, Jonathan leaped behind Wetzel, over the bank. His yells were mingled with Wetzel's vengeful cry. Like leaping shadows the bordermen were upon their foes.
"Such are my two bordermen, Miss Sheppard. The fort there, and all these cabins, would be only black ashes, save for them, and as for us, our wives and children God only knows." "Haven't they wives and children, too?" asked Helen. "No," answered Colonel Zane, with his genial smile. "Such joys are not for bordermen." "Why not? Fine men like them deserve happiness," declared Helen.
You've got a chance now to put one of these bordermen out of the way. Do it quick! That's my advice." Brandt spoke so vehemently that Legget seemed impressed. He stroked his yellow beard, and puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. Presently he addressed the Shawnee chief in the native tongue. "Will Ashbow take five horses for his prisoner?" The Indian shook his head. "How many will he take?"
These bordermen were like Wetzel and Jonathan Zane. The only good Indian was a dead Indian. Years of war and bloodshed, of merciless cruelty at the hands of redmen, of the hard, border life had rendered these frontiersmen incapable of compassion for any savage. Jim no longer restrained himself.
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