She
knew her brother and her husband would not wear anxious faces for nothing. Her
usually bright face clouded with a look of distress. She had seen enough of
Indian warfare to make her shudder with horror at the mere thought. Betty
seemed unconcerned. She sat down beside the dog and patted him on the head.
“Tige, Indians! Indians!” she said.
The dog growled and showed his teeth. It was only necessary to mention Indians
to arouse his ire.
“The dog has been uneasy of late,” continued Colonel Zane “He found the Indian
tracks before Wetzel did. You know how Tige hates Indians. Ever since he came
home with Isaac four years ago he has been of great service to the scouts, as
he possesses so much intelligence and sagacity. Tige followed Isaac home the
last time he escaped from the Wyansdots. When Isaac was in captivity he nursed
and cared for the dog after he had been brutally beaten by the redskins. Have
you ever heard that long mournful howl Tige gives out sometimes in the dead of
night?”
“Yes I have, and it makes me cover up my head,” said Betty.
“Well, it is Tige mourning for Isaac,” said Colonel Zane
“Poor Isaac,” murmured Betty.
“Do you remember him? It has been nine years since you saw him,” said Mrs.
Zane.
“Remember Isaac? Indeed I do. I shall never forget him. I wonder if he is
still living?”
“Probably not. It is now four years since he was recaptured. I think it would
have been impossible to keep him that length of time, unless, of course, he
has married that Indian girl. The simplicity of the Indian nature is
remarkable. He could easily have deceived them and made them believe he was
content in captivity. Probably, in attempting to escape again, he has been
killed as was poor Andrew.”
Brother and sister gazed with dark, sad eyes into the fire, now burned down to
a glowing bed of coals. The silence remained unbroken save for the moan of the
rising wind outside, the rattle of hail, and the patter of rain drops on the
roof.
Betty Zane
CHAPTER II.
Fort Henry stood on a bluff overlooking the river and commanded a fine view of
the surrounding country. In shape it was a parallelogram, being about three
hundred and fifty-six feet in length, and one hundred and fifty in width.
Surrounded by a stockade fence twelve feet high, with a yard wide walk running
around the inside, and with bastions at each corner large enough to contain
six defenders, the fort presented an almost impregnable defense. The
blockhouse was two stories in height, the second story projecting out several
feet over the first. The thick white oak walls bristled with portholes.
Besides the blockhouse, there were a number of cabins located within the
stockade. Wells had been sunk inside the inclosure, so that if the spring
happened to go dry, an abundance of good water could be had at all times.
In all the histories of frontier life mention is made of the forts and the
protection they offered in time of savage warfare. These forts were used as
homes for the settlers, who often lived for weeks inside the walls.
Forts constructed entirely of wood without the aid of a nail or spike (for the
good reason that these things could not be had) may seem insignificant in
these days of great nasal and military garrisons. However, they answered the
purpose at that time and served to protect many an infant settlement from the
savage attacks of Indian tribes. During a siege of Fort Henry, which had
occurred about a year previous, the settlers would have lost scarcely a man
had they kept to the fort. But Captain Ogle, at that time in charge of the
garrison, had led a company out in search of the Indians. Nearly all of his
men were killed, several only making their way to the fort.
On the day following Major McColloch’s arrival at Fort Henry, the settlers had
been called in from their spring plowing and other labors, and were now busily
engaged in moving their stock and the things they wished to save from the
destructive torch of the redskin. The women had their hands full with the
children, the cleaning of rifles and moulding of bullets, and the thousand and
one things the sterner tasks of their husbands had left them. Major McColloch,
Jonathan and Silas Zane, early in the day, had taken different directions
along the river to keep a sharp lookout for signs of the enemy.
1 comment