the spirit of the border-第65章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



coming　from　Wetzel；　meant　so　much。　Nell　bowed　her　head　sadly。　Jim　turned　away

biting　his　lip。　Christy　looked　across　the　valley。　Colonel　Zane　bent　over　and

picked　up　some　pebbles　which　he　threw　hard　at　the　cabin　wall。　Jonathan　Zane

abruptly　left　the　group；　and　went　into　the　house。



But　the　colonel's　sister　fixed　her　large；　black　eyes　on　Wetzel's　face。



〃Well？〃　she　asked；　and　her　voice　rang。



Wetzel　was　silent　for　a　moment。　He　met　here　eyes　with　that　old；　inscrutable

smile　in　his　own。　A　slight　shade　flitted　across　his　face。



〃Betty；　I　missed　him；〃　he　said；　calmly；　and；　shouldering　his　long　rifle；　he

strode　away。





Nell　and　Jim　walked　along　the　bluff　above　the　river。　Twilight　was　deepening。

The　red　glow　in　the　west　was　slowly　darkening　behind　the　boldly　defined　hills。



〃So　it's　all　settled；　Jim；　that　we　stay　here；〃　said　Nell。



〃Yes；　dear。　Colonel　Zane　has　offered　me　work；　and　a　church　besides。　We　are

very　fortunate；　and　should　be　contented。　I　am　happy　because　you're　my　wife；

and　yet　I　am　sad　when　I　think　ofhim。　Poor　Joe！〃



〃Don't　you　ever　think　wewe　wronged　him？〃　whispered　Nell。



〃No；　he　wished　it。　I　think　he　knew　how　he　would　end。　No；　we　did　not　wrong　him；

we　loved　him。〃



〃Yes；　I　loved　himI　loved　you　both；〃　said　Nell　softly。



〃Then　let　us　always　think　of　him　as　he　would　have　wished。〃



〃Think　of　him？　Think　of　Joe？　I　shall　never　forget。　In　winter；　spring　and

summer　I　shall　remember　him；　but　always　most　in　autumn。　For　I　shall　see　that

beautiful　glade　with　its　gorgeous　color　and　the　dark；　shaded　spring　where　he

lies　asleep。〃





The　years　rolled　by　with　their　changing　seasons；　every　autumn　the　golden

flowers　bloomed　richly；　and　the　colored　leaves　fell　softly　upon　the　amber　moss

in　the　glade　of　Beautiful　Spring。



The　Indians　camped　there　no　more；　they　shunned　the　glade　and　called　it　the

Haunted　Spring。　They　said　the　spirit　of　a　white　dog　ran　there　at　night；　and

the　Wind…of…Death　mourned　over　the　lonely　spot。



At　long　intervals　an　Indian　chief　of　lofty　frame　and　dark；　powerful　face

stalked　into　the　glade　to　stand　for　many　moments　silent　and　motionless。



And　sometimes　at　twilight　when　the　red　glow　of　the　sun　had　faded　to　gray；　a

stalwart　hunter　slipped　like　a　shadow　out　of　the　thicket；　and　leaned　upon　a

long；　black　rifle　while　he　gazed　sadly　into　the　dark　spring；　and　listened　to

the　sad　murmur　of　the　waterfall。　The　twilight　deepened　while　he　stood

motionless。　The　leaves　fell　into　the　water　with　a　soft　splash；　a　whippoorwill

caroled　his　melancholy　song。



From　the　gloom　of　the　forest　came　a　low　sigh　which　swelled　thrillingly　upon

the　quiet　air；　and　then　died　away　like　the　wailing　of　the　night　wind。



Quiet　reigned　once　more　over　the　dark；　murky　grave　of　the　boy　who　gave　his

love　and　his　life　to　the　wilderness。











End