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"I believe, despite his indifference to danger, he realizes that the chances are greatly against him, as they were when he began the trailing of Miller, certain it would lead him into Girty's camp. Then I know Lew has an affection for us, though it is never shown in ordinary ways. I pray he and Jack will come home safe."
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.
Whenever he heard Girty's name mentioned, or even thought of him, he remembered with a shudder the renegade's allusion to the buzzards. Jim never saw one of these carrion birds soaring overhead but his thoughts instantly reverted to the frontier ruffian and his horrible craving. "I don't know," answered Heckewelder. "Girty has been here several times of late.
Jim Girty's tomahawk was thrown in one direction and his knife in another. He struggled vainly in the iron grip that held him. Wetzel rose to his feet clutching the renegade. With his left arm, which had been bared in the fight, he held Girty by the front of his buckskin shirt, and dragged him to that tree which stood alone in the glade. He pushed him against it, and held him there.
However sincere or lasting Girty's repentance had been, he could never have lived in safety among the whites; he had been too active, and if common accounts are to be credited, too savage in his hostility to them, to admit of forgiveness; and it is probable that a knowledge of this prevented him from abandoning the Indians.
"And the missionaries?" inquired Jim, earnestly. "Were all well when I left, except, of course, Young. He was dying. The others will remain out there, and try to get another hold, but I fear it's impossible." "It is impossible, not because the Indian does not want Christianity, but because such white men as the Girty's rule.
Springing up into sight he answered Girty in the tone of rough banter so dear to the backwoodsmen, telling the renegade that he knew him well, and despised him, that the men in the fort feared neither cannon nor reinforcements, and if need be, could drive Girty's tawny followers back from the walls with switches; and he ended by assuring him that the whites, too, were expecting help, for the country was roused, and if the renegade and his followers dared to linger where they were for another twenty-four hours, their scalps would surely be sun-dried on the roofs of the cabins.
The information which the courier had brought had been so meagre that the exact location of Girty's band of warriors was not known. Bell had reported only that Bryant's Station was besieged and that Girty was the leader of the howling horde of savages. Bryant's Station was less than a mile and a half distant.
He was frantic with fury, and tried to get at Joe; but Silvertip remained in front of his captive until some of the braves led Girty into the forest, where the tall chief had already disappeared. The nose-pulling incident added to the gayety of the Shawnees, who evidently were pleased with Girty's discomfiture.
They were too busy trying to bandage Girty's head to pay any attention to their prisoners. "That whirlwind was Wetzel, wasn't it?" "Yes; how'd you know?" "I was awake last night. I had an oppressive feeling, perhaps a presentiment. Anyway, I couldn't sleep. I heard that wind blow through the forest, and thought my blood would freeze.
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