the spirit of the border-第48章

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richness　and　promise　of　the　western　country。〃



〃You're　right。　Rumors　of　fat；　fertile　lands　induce　the　colonist　to　become　a

pioneer。　He　comes　west　with　his　family；　two　out　of　every　ten　lose　their

scalps；　and　in　some　places　the　average　is　much　greater。　The　wives；　daughters

and　children　are　carried　off　into　captivity。　I　have　been　on　the　border　two

years；　and　know　that　the　rescue　of　any　captive；　as　Wetzel　rescued　your　friend；

is　a　remarkable　exception。〃



〃If　you　have　so　little　hope　of　recovering　your　sweetheart；　what　then　is　your

motive　for　accompanying　this　band　of　hunters？〃



〃Revenge！〃



〃And　you　are　a　preacher？〃　Jim's　voice　did　not　disguise　his　astonishment。



〃I　was　a　preacher；　and　now　I　am　thirsting　for　vengeance；〃　answered　Christy；

his　face　clouding　darkly。　〃Wait　until　you　learn　what　frontier　life　means。　　You

are　young　here　yet；　you　are　flushed　with　the　success　of　your　teaching；　you

have　lived　a　short　time　in　this　quiet　village；　where；　until　the　last　few　days；

all　has　been　serene。　You　know　nothing　of　the　strife；　of　the　necessity　of

fighting；　of　the　cruelty　which　makes　up　this　border　existence。　Only　two　years

have　hardened　me　so　that　I　actually　pant　for　the　blood　of　the　renegade　who　has

robbed　me。　A　frontiersman　must　take　his　choice　of　succumbing　or　cutting　his

way　through　flesh　and　bone。　Blood　will　be　spilled；　if　not　yours；　then　your

foe's。　The　pioneers　run　from　the　plow　to　the　fight；　they　halt　in　the　cutting

of　corn　to　defend　themselves；　and　in　winter　must　battle　against　cold　and

hardship；　which　would　be　less　cruel　if　there　was　time　in　summer　to　prepare　for

winter；　for　the　savages　leave　them　hardly　an　opportunity　to　plant　crops。　　How

many　pioneers　have　given　up；　and　gone　back　east？　Find　me　any　who　would　not

return　home　to…morrow；　if　they　could。　All　that　brings　them　out　here　is　the

chance　for　a　home；　and　all　that　keeps　them　out　here　is　the　poor　hope　of

finally　attaining　their　object。　Always　there　is　a　possibility　of　future

prosperity。　But　this　generation；　if　it　survives；　will　never　see　prosperity　and

happiness。　What　does　this　border　life　engender　in　a　pioneer　who　holds　his　own

in　it？　Of　all　things；　not　Christianity。　He　becomes　a　fighter；　keen　as　the

redskin　who　steals　through　the　coverts。〃





The　serene　days　of　the　Village　of　Peace　had　passed　into　history。　Soon　that

depraved　vagabond；　the　French　trader；　with　cheap　trinkets　and　vile　whisky；

made　his　appearance。　This　was　all　that　was　needed　to　inflame　the　visitors。　

Where　they　had　been　only　bold　and　impudent；　they　became　insulting　and　abusive。

They　execrated　the　Christian　indians　for　their　neutrality；　scorned　them　for

worshiping　this　unknown　God；　and　denounced　a　religion　which　made　women　of

strong　men。



The　slaughtering　of　cattle　commenced；　the　despoiling　of　maize　fields；　and

robbing　of　corn…cribs　began　with　the　drunkenness。



All　this　time　it　was　seen　that　Girty　and　Elliott　consulted　often　with　Pipe　and

Half　King。　The　latter　was　the　only　Huron　chief　opposed　to　neutrality　toward

the　Village　of　Peace；　and　he　was；　if　possible；　more　fierce　in　his　hatred　than

Pipe。　The　future　of　the　Christian　settlement　rested　with　these　two　chiefs。

Girty　and　Elliott；　evidently；　were　the　designing　schemers；　and　they　worked

diligently　on　the　passions　of　these　simple…minded；　but　fierce；　warlike　chiefs。



Greatly　to　the　relief　of　the　distracted　missionaries；　Heckewelder　returned　to

the　village。　Jaded　and　haggard；　he　presented　a　travel…worn　appearance。　　He

made　the　astonishing　assertions　that　he　had　been　thrice　waylaid　and　assaulted

on　his　way　to　Goshocking；　then　detained　by　a　roving　band　of　Chippewas；　and

soon　after　his　arrival　at　their　camping　ground　a　renegade　had　run　off　with　a

white　woman　captive；　while　the　Indians　west　of　the　village　were　in　an　uproar。

Zeisberger；　however；　was　safe　in　the　Moravian　town　of　Salem；　some　miles　west

of　Goshocking。　Heckewelder　had　expected　to　find　the　same　condition　of　affairs

as　existed　in　the　Village　of　Peace；　but　he　was　bewildered　by　the　great　array

of　hostile　Indians。　Chiefs　who　had　once　extended　friendly　hands　to　him；　now

drew　back　coldly；　as　they　said：



〃Washington　is　dead。　The　American　armies　are　cut　to　pieces。　The　few　thousands

who　had　escaped　the　British　are　collecting　at　Fort　Pitt　to　steal　the　Indian's

land。〃



Heckewelder　vigorously　denied　all　these　assertions；　knowing　they　had　been

invented　by　Girty　and　Elliott。　He　exhausted　all　his　skill　and　patience　in　the

vain　endeavor　to　show　Pipe　where　he　was　wrong。　Half　King　had　been　so　well

coached　by　the　renegades　that　he　refused　to　listen。　The　other　chiefs

maintained　a　cold　reserve　that　was　baffling　and　exasperating。　Wingenund　took

no　active　part　in　the　councils；　but　his　presence　apparently　denoted　that　he

had　sided　with　the　others。　The　outlook　was　altogether　discouraging。



〃I'm　completely　fagged　out；〃　declared　Heckewelder；　that　night　when　he　returned

to　Edwards'　cabin。　He　dropped　into　a　chair　as　one　whose　strength　is　entirely

spent；　whose　indomitable　spirit　has　at　last　been　broken。



〃Lie　down　to　rest；〃　said　Edwards。



〃Oh；　I　can't。　Matters　look　so　black。〃



〃You're　tired　out　and　discouraged。　You'll　feel　better　to…morrow。　The　situation

is　not；　perhaps；　so　hopeless。　The　presence　of　these　frontiersmen　should

encourage　us。〃



〃What　will　they　do？　What　can　they　do？〃　cried　Heckewelder；　bitterly。　〃I　tell

you　never　before　have　I　encountered　such　gloomy；　stony　Indians。　It　seems　to　me

that　they　are　in　no　vacillating　state。　They　act　like　men　whose　course　is

already　decided　upon；　and　who　are　only　waiting。〃



〃For　what？〃　asked　Jim；　after　a　long　silence。



〃God　only　knows！　Perhaps　for　a　time；　possibly　for　a　final　decision；　and；　it

may　be；　for　a　reason；　the　very　thought　of　which　makes　me　faint。〃



〃Tell　us；〃　said　Edwards；　speaking　quietly；　for　he　had　ever　been　the　calmest　of

the　missionaries。



〃Never　mind。　Perhaps　it's　only　my　nerves。　I'm　all　unstrung；　and　could　suspect

anything　to…night。〃



〃Heckewelder；　tell　us？〃　Jim　asked；　earnestly。



〃My　friends；　I　pray　I　am　wrong。　God　help　us　if　my　fears　are　correct。　I　believe

the　Indians　are　waiting　for　Jim　Girty。







Chapter　XXII。



Simon　Girty　lolled　on　a　blanket　in　Half　King's　teepee。　He　was　alone；　awaiting

his　allies。　Rings　of　white　smoke　curled　lazily　from　his　lips　as　he　puffed　on　a

long　Indian　pipe；　and　gazed　out　over　the　clearing　that　contained　the　Village

of　Peace。



Still　water　has　something　in　its　placid　surface　significant　of　deep　channels；

of　hidden　depths；　the　dim　outline　of　the　forest　is　dark　with　meaning；

suggestive　of　its　wild　internal　character。　So　Simon　Girty's　hard；　bronzed　face

betrayed　the　man。　His　degenerate　brother's　features　were　revolting；　but　his

own　were　striking；　and　fell　short　of　being　handsome　only　because　of　their

craggy　hardness。　Years　of　revolt；　of　bitterness；　of　consciousness　of　wasted

life；　had　graven　their　stern　lines　on　that　copper；　masklike　face。　Yet　despite

the　cruelty　there；　the　forbidding　shade　on　it；　as　if　a　reflection　from　a　dark

soul；　it　was　not　wholly　a　bad　countenance。　Traces　still　lingered；　faintly；　of

a　man　in　whom　kindlier　feelings　had　once　predominated。



In　a　moment　of　pique　Girty　had　deserted　his　military　post　at　Fort　Pitt；　and

become　an　outlaw　of　his　own　volition。　Previous　to　that　time　he　had　been　an

able　soldier；　and　a　good　fellow。　When　he　realized　that　his　step　was

irrevocable；　that　even　his　best　friends　condemned　him；　he　plunged；　with　anger

and　despair　in　his　heart；　into　a　war　upon　his　own　race。　Both　of　his　brothers

had　long　been　border　ruffians；　whose　only　protection　from　the　outraged

pioneers　lay　in　the　faraway　camps　of　hostile　tribes。　George　Girty　had　so　sunk

his　individuality　into　the　savage's　that　he　was　no　longer　a　white　man。　Jim

Girty　stalked　over　the　borderland　with　a　bloody　tomahawk；　his　long　arm

outstretched　to　clutch　some　unfortunate　white　woman；　and　with　his　hideous

smile　of　death。　Both　of　these　men　were　far　lower　than　th