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第28章

the spirit of the border-第28章

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larn to love me。〃



Nell gazed one instant into the monster's face。 Her terror…stricken eyes were

piteous to behold。 She tried to speak; but her voice failed。 Then; like

stricken bird; she fell on the grass。







Chapter XIV。



Not many miles from the Village of Peace rose an irregular chain of hills; the

first faint indications of the grand Appalachian Mountain system。  These

ridges were thickly wooded with white oak; poplar and hickory; among which a

sentinel pine reared here and there its evergreen head。 There were clefts in

the hills; passes lined by gray…stoned cliffs; below which ran clear brooks;

tumbling over rocks in a hurry to meet their majestic father; the Ohio。



One of these valleys; so narrow that the sun seldom brightened the merry

brook; made a deep cut in the rocks。 The head of this valley tapered until the

walls nearly met; it seemed to lose itself in the shade of fern…faced cliffs;

shadowed as they were by fir trees leaning over the brink; as though to search

for secrets of the ravine。 So deep and dark and cool was this sequestered nook

that here late summer had not dislodged early spring。 Everywhere was a soft;

fresh; bright green。 The old gray cliffs were festooned with ferns; lichens

and moss。 Under a great; shelving rock; damp and stained by the copper…colored

water dripping down its side; was a dewy dell into which the sunshine had

never peeped。 Here the swift brook tarried lovingly; making a wide turn under

the cliff; as though loth to leave this quiet nook; and then leaped once more

to enthusiasm in its murmuring flight。



Life abounded in this wild; beautiful; almost inaccessible spot。 Little brown

and yellow birds flitted among the trees; thrushes ran along the leaf…strewn

ground; orioles sang their melancholy notes; robins and flickers darted

beneath the spreading branches。 Squirrels scurried over the leaves like little

whirlwinds; and leaped daringly from the swinging branches or barked noisily

from woody perches。 Rabbits hopped inquisitively here and there while nibbling

at the tender shoots of sassafras and laurel。



Along this flower…skirted stream a tall young man; carrying a rifle cautiously

stepped; peering into the branches overhead。 A gray flash shot along a limb of

a white oak; then the bushy tail of a squirrel flitted into a well…protected

notch; from whence; no doubt; a keen little eye watched the hunter's every

movement。



The rifle was raised; then lowered。 The hunter walked around the tree。 

Presently up in the tree top; snug under a knotty limb; he spied a little ball

of gray fur。 Grasping a branch of underbush; he shook it vigorously。  The

thrashing sound worried the gray squirrel; for he slipped from his retreat and

stuck his nose Over the limb。 CRACK! With a scratching and tearing of bark the

squirrel loosened his hold and then fell; alighting with a thump。 As the

hunter picked up his quarry a streak of sunshine glinting through the tree top

brightened his face。



The hunter was Joe。



He was satisfied now; for after stowing the squirrel in the pocket of his

hunting coat he shouldered his rifle and went back up the ravine。  Presently a

dull roar sounded above the babble of the brook。 It grew louder as he threaded

his way carefully over the stones。 Spots of white foam flecked the brook。

Passing under the gray; stained cliff; Joe turned around a rocky corner; and

came to an abrupt end of the ravine。  A waterfall marked the spot where the

brook entered。 The water was brown as it took the leap; light green when it

thinned out; and below; as it dashed on the stones; it became a beautiful;

sheeny white。



Upon a flat rock; so near the cascade that spray flew over him; sat another

hunter。 The roaring falls drowned all other sounds; yet the man roused from

his dreamy contemplation of the waterfall when Joe rounded the corner。



〃I heerd four shots;〃 he said; as Joe came up。



〃Yes; I got a squirrel for every shot。〃



Wetzel led the way along a narrow foot trail which gradually wound toward the

top of the ravine。 This path emerged presently; some distance above the falls;

on the brink of a bluff。 It ran along the edge of the precipice a few yards;

then took a course back into densely wooded thickets。 Just before stepping out

on the open cliff Wetzel paused and peered keenly on all sides。 There was no

living thing to be seen; the silence was the deep; unbroken calm of the

wilderness。



Wetzel stepped to the bluff and looked over。 The stony wall opposite was only

thirty feet away; and somewhat lower。 From Wetzel's action it appeared as if

he intended to leap the fissure。 In truth; many a band of Indians pursuing the

hunter into this rocky fastness had come out on the bluff; and; marveling at

what they thought Wetzel's prowess; believed he had made a wonderful leap;

thus eluding them。 But he had never attempted that leap; first; because he

knew it was well…nigh impossible; and secondly; there had never been any

necessity for such risk。



Any one leaning over this cliff would have observed; perhaps ten feet below; a

narrow ledge projecting from the face of the rock。 He would have imagined if

he were to drop on that ledge there would be no way to get off and he would be

in a worse predicament。



Without a moment's hesitation Wetzel swung himself over the ledge。  Joe

followed suit。 At one end of this lower ledge grew a hardy shrub of the

ironwood species; and above it a scrub pine leaned horizontally out over the

ravine。 Laying his rifle down; Wetzel grasped a strong root and cautiously

slid over the side。 When all of his body had disappeared; with the exception

of his sinewy fingers; they loosened their hold on the root; grasped the

rifle; and dragged it down out of sight。 Quietly; with similar caution; Joe

took hold of the same root; let himself down; and when at full length swung

himself in under the ledge。 His feet found a pocket in the cliff。 Letting go

of the root; he took his rifle; and in another second was safe。



Of all Wetzel's retreatsfor he had manyhe considered this one the safest。

The cavern under the ledge he had discovered by accident。 One day; being hotly

pursued by Shawnees; he had been headed off on this cliff; and had let himself

down on the ledge; intending to drop from it to the tops of the trees below。

Taking advantage of every little aid; he hung over by means of the shrub; and

was in the act of leaping when he saw that the cliff shelved under the ledge;

while within reach of his feet was the entrance to a cavern。 He found the cave

to be small with an opening at the back into a split in the rock。 Evidently

the place had been entered from the rear by bears; who used the hole for

winter sleeping quarters。  By crawling on his hands and knees; Wetzel found

the rear opening。 Thus he had established a hiding place where it was almost

impossible to locate him。 He provisioned his retreat; which he always entered

by the cliff and left by the rear。



An evidence of Wetzel's strange nature; and of his love for this wild home;

manifested itself when he bound Joe to secrecy。 It was unlikely; even if the

young man ever did get safely out of the wilderness; that any stories he might

relate would reveal the hunter's favorite rendezvous。 But Wetzel seriously

demanded this secrecy; as earnestly as if the forest were full of Indians and

white men; all prowling in search of his burrow。



Joe was in the seventh heaven of delight; and took to the free life as a wild

gosling takes to the water。 No place had ever appealed to him as did this

dark; silent hole far up on the side of a steep cliff。 His interest in Wetzel

soon passed into a great admiration; and from that deepened to love。



This afternoon; when they were satisfied that all was well within their

refuge; Joe laid aside his rifle; and; whistling softly; began to prepare

supper。 The back part of the cave permitted him to stand erect; and was large

enough for comp

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