Betty Zane by Zane Grey (best free novels TXT) 📕

say goodbye to you. We intend riding down the river fifteen miles and then crossing, to avoid running into any band of Indians.”

“And how does Myeerah like the settlement by this time?”

“Oh, she is getting on famously. Betty and she have fallen in love with each other. It is amusing to hear Betty try to talk in the Wyandot tongue, and to see Myeerah’s consternation when Betty gives her a lesson in deportment.”

“I rather fancy it would be interesting, too. Are you not going back to the Wyandots at a dangerous time?”

“As to that I can’t say. I believe, though, it is better that I get back to Tarhe’s camp before we have any trouble with the Indians. I am anxious to get there before Girty or some of his agents.”

“Well, if you must go, good luck to you, and may we meet again.”

“It will not be long, I am sure. And, old man,” he continued, with a bright smile, “when Myeerah and I come again to Ft. Henry we expect to find all well with you. Cheer up, and goodbye.”

All the preparations had been made for the departure of Isaac and Myeerah to their far-off Indian home. They were to ride the Indian ponies on which they had arrived at the Fort. Col. Zane had given Isaac one of his pack horses. This animal carried blankets, clothing, and food which insured comparative comfort in the long ride through the wilderness.

“We will follow the old trail until we reach the hickory swale,” Isaac was saying to the Colonel, “and then we will turn off and make for the river. Once across the Ohio we can make the trip in two days.”

“I think you’ll make it all right,” said Col. Zane.

“Even if I do meet Indians I shall have no fear, for I have a protector here,” answered Isaac as he led Myeerah’s pony up to the step.

“Goodbye, Myeerah; he is yours, but do not forget he is dear to us,” said Betty, embracing and kissing the Indian girl.

“My sister does not know Myeerah. The White Eagle will return.”

“Goodbye, Betts, don’t cry. I shall come home again. And when I do I hope I shall be in time to celebrate another event, this time with you as the heroine. Goodbye. Goodbye.”

The ponies cantered down the road. At the bend Isaac and Myeerah turned and waved their hands until the foliage of the trees hid them from view.

“Well, these things happen naturally enough. I suppose they must be. But I should much have preferred Isaac staying here. Hello! What the deuce is that? By Lord! It’s Tige!”

The exclamation following Col. Zane’s remarks had been called forth by Betty’s dog. He came limping painfully up the road from the direction of the river. When he saw Col. Zane he whined and crawled to the Colonel’s feet. The dog was wet and covered with burrs, and his beautiful glossy coat, which had been Betty’s pride, was dripping with blood.

“Silas, Jonathan, come here,” cried Col. Zane. “Here’s Tige, back without Wetzel, and the poor dog has been shot almost to pieces. What does it mean?”

“Indians,” said Jonathan, coming out of the house with Silas, and Mrs. Zane and Betty, who had heard the Colonel’s call.

“He has come a long way. Look at his feet. They are torn and bruised,” continued Jonathan. “And he has been near Wingenund’s camp. You see that red clay on his paws. There is no red clay that I know of round here, and there are miles of it this side of the Delaware camp.”

“What is the matter with Tige?” asked Betty.

“He is done for. Shot through, poor fellow. How did he ever reach home?” said Silas.

“Oh, I hope not! Dear old Tige,” said Betty as she knelt and tenderly placed the head of the dog in her lap. “Why, what is this? I never put that there. Eb, Jack, look here. There is a string around his neck,” and Betty pointed excitedly to a thin cord which was almost concealed in the thick curly hair.

“Good gracious! Eb, look! It is the string off the prize bullet pouch I made, and that Wetzel won on Isaac’s wedding day. It is a message from Lew,” said Betty.

“Well, by Heavens! This is strange. So it is. I remember that string. Cut it off, Jack,” said Col. Zane.

When Jonathan had cut the string and held it up they all saw the lead bullet. Col. Zane examined it and showed them what had been rudely scratched on it.

“A letter W. Does that mean Wetzel?” asked the Colonel.

“It means war. It’s a warning from Wetzel⁠—not the slightest doubt of that,” said Jonathan. “Wetzel sends this because he knows we are to be attacked, and because there must have been great doubt of his getting back to tell us. And Tige has been shot on his way home.”

This called the attention to the dog, which had been momentarily forgotten. His head rolled from Betty’s knee; a quiver shook his frame; he struggled to rise to his feet, but his strength was too far spent; he crawled close to Betty’s feet; his eyes looked up at her with almost human affection; then they closed, and he lay still. Tige was dead.

“It is all over, Betty. Tige will romp no more. He will never be forgotten, for he was faithful to the end. Jonathan, tell the Major of Wetzel’s warning, and both of you go back to your posts on the river. Silas, send Capt. Boggs to me.”

An hour after the death of Tige the settlers were waiting for the ring of the meeting house bell to summon them to the Fort.

Supper at Col. Zane’s that night was not the occasion of good-humored jest and pleasant conversation. Mrs. Zane’s face wore a distressed and troubled look; Betty was pale and quiet; even the Colonel was gloomy; and the children, missing the usual cheerfulness of the evening meal, shrank close to their mother.

Darkness slowly settled down; and with it came a feeling of