"S'pect so. Leastways I know, when I get home, I'll be able to give our settlement a great deal of information that they never knowed or dreamt on before."

"I have followed your trail, my friend, to come up with you and find out what I have just learned. I rejoice to learn that it has turned out thus. And now I will bid you good-by. Do not delay, for, although you are a great way from the Indian town, there may be many and swift pursuers upon your trail."

"Say! hold on a minute!" called out Jenkins, springing toward her, first reaching out his hand, and then suddenly withdrawing it, as he remembered what he had heard said would be the consequences of such an act.

"What do you want?" she asked, turning round and facing him.

Now, the truth of the matter was, Jenkins had fallen desperately in love with this singular personage. And, all things considered, it could not be wondered at. Arrayed in her fantastic Indian dress, her beauty was certainly wild and wonderful. Gay, painted eagle and porcupine quills formed a fiery head-dress, which contrasted well with the long, luxuriant hair of jetty blackness, that rolled unrestrained down her shoulders. The face was small and a delicate oval, the eyelashes long and black, the nose thin and small, and the teeth of pearly pureness.

Viewed from the side, the profile was perfectly straight from the upper part of the forehead to the base of the nose, from which point it slightly retreated to the chin. The eyes were dark, and when fixed upon a person, wore a meek, mild expression; at other times they fairly blazed with fire. A dress of dazzling colors reached from the shoulders to the ankles, and was confined at the waist by a band of gleaming red.

The feet were encased in small, ornamented moccasins which displayed the symmetrical limbs to advantage. Several rows of wampum were hung around the neck and waist, and the whole dress was such as an Indian chief would put upon his princess.

When she turned so abruptly and faced Jenkins, he was considerably disconcerted. Upon any other occasion, he would have hesitated and stammered much, before he would have come to the point; but, he well knew there were but a few minutes left him, and he said:

"I just want to speak a word with you. I s'pose you know d.i.c.k Dingle, don't you? that feller that left me so cowardly?"

"Yes," she replied, without changing a feature or removing her gaze from him.

"Well, I was just going to say--that is--I wouldn't have anything to do with him. He is an awful mean man; I wouldn't speak to him."

"Why?" was the same quiet question.

"Oh! 'cause he's so everlastingly mean. Darnation! haven't I told you a thousand times? How many more times are you going to ask me?"

"Is that all?"

"Yes--no--hold on!"

"What else do you wish?"

"I want to know if--if--if you don't like him, do you now?" suddenly broke forth Jenkins.

The maiden began acting strangely. Her eyes brightened, her lips quivered, and she seemed striving to say something. She controlled her emotion in a moment, and sweeping her hand over her eyes, looked calmly at her questioner, but without deigning a reply.

"Don't you--don't you--don't you _love me now_? I do you!" besought our friend, going down on his knees in true, sentimental style.

The Frontier Angel gazed calmly on him a moment, then raised her eyes, turned on her heel, and disappeared in the forest.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The Frontier Angel gazed calmly on him a moment."]

CHAPTER IX.

PETER JENKINS--A COUPLE OF SPEECHES.

"CONSARN her, I don't care nothin' for her. I was just fooling; I only got down to see where she had put my rifle. Wonder where she got it from! She's awful ugly. S'pect Dingle has been telling her some lies about me. By gracious! if I'd only thought about her shooting that arrer at me, she'd have cotched it. Wonder if it would have killed a feller if he'd touched her! I wouldn't risk it, no how. She is purty--_somewhat_.

Never mind, I don't care, though I should like to know who she is. It's time I was tramping home, or the folks will begin to worry about me!"

Soliloquizing thus, Jenkins took his rifle, which he saw was still loaded, and once more turned his face homeward. Let us precede his arrival at the settlement.

Dingle, upon starting, after he deemed it useless to wait for Jenkins, had made all haste through the wood, and proceeded much faster than the war-party which started the next day. Nothing occurred to interrupt his journey, and in due time he made his appearance before the block-house.

He was joyfully welcomed back by all. The fate of Jenkins was sincerely regretted by every one, but under the circ.u.mstances it could not be helped. He was known to all, and although from his suspected cowardice he commanded little respect, his loss was none the less mourned.

"They're paintin' and greasin' themselves, so that they can slip around easy like, and they're just ready to start agin some settlement. More than that, boys, they've started afore now, and their faces are turned this way and you've jest got time to git ready to invite 'em in."

"How many?" inquired the commander of the post.

"Can't tell, but a powerful heap. Howsumever there ain't more than we can give 'Hail Columbia.' I don't think there'll be any Shawnees except from the upper town on Mad river. The imps in the other towns have got enough other deviltry to attend to, and I s'pect this is a kinder independent affair for the Piqua skunks."

The news of Dingle, as might be expected, occasioned the greatest excitement throughout the little encampment. The settlers, with compressed and silent lips, commenced moving the most valuable part of their furniture into the block-house, while the women, "whispering with white lips," moved hurriedly about, uttering their supplications continually.

As for the men in the block-house, they were in the highest of spirits.

It had been a long time since anything had occurred to break the monotony of their life, and they hailed with delight the prospect of storms ahead. When one of the men became so boisterous, that the commander endeavored to check him, by telling him that the fight would probably be a desperate and b.l.o.o.d.y one, the fellow actually sprang off his feet, swung his hat over his head, and shouted, "Glory!"

Peterson had returned the day before Dingle, but without any news to alarm the settlement. The Indians in the Sciota valley were as quiet as usual, and there was no evidence to show that they intended a hostile expedition. The attack, as said by Dingle, and also by the Frontier Angel, was most probably contemplated by those at the Piqua town alone.

After most of the preparations had been completed, Abbot called Dingle aside, and asked him whether he had learned anything of McGable.

"He wasn't in that village," he replied.

"I suppose you are sure of it."

"Yes, for I surrounded the village two or three times, and if he'd have been thar', I'd seen him. I seen the chiefs, and could have shot any reds I'd been asked to."

"Peterson says he is not in the towns either, which he visited, for he examined each most thoroughly. How can it be? Where is he?"

"I've found out that he is at the village at the head of the Little Miami most of the time. Thar's where he is now, you may bet a considerable."

"Do you suppose he will be with the attacking Indians?"

"P'r'aps so, though it can't be told for a startin thing. I s'pose you'd like to know where me and Jim are going to catch him. You needn't think we're going to give it up. We ain't, 'cause we've set our hearts on it; and as soon as these reds as ar' comin' here get a little taste of us, the thing's going to be done. 'Cause why? d.i.c.k Dingle and Jim Peterson has said so."

"I hope you will learn of the fate of poor Marian, for I believe her mother will not live three months longer if you do not. When she finds out for certain, that her child is dead, and gone to her rest, she may bear up under this great affliction."

"Hold still a minute," said Dingle, as if a sudden thought had struck him. "Now there's Frontier Angel; she knows all about the Injin affairs, and I shouldn't wonder ef she could tell you somethin' about her. Freeze me to death, why didn't I think of it? I know she can."

"Frontier Angel, who is she? I have heard her spoken of as an Indian maiden, of whom nothing is known except that she is one of the best friends the settlers ever had."

"So she is--so she is; ef it hadn't been for her two or three times, thar' would have been some big ha'r raising done by the reds. She finds out nearly all their deviltry, and she's bound to let the whites know it."

"Do you know where she is now?"

"Tellin' the settlements to keep their eyes peeled, or maybe she's gone up to Heaven a little while. You needn't laugh, for she's a _sperit_--she's an angel, sure. Lew Whetzel says so, and I know she is, too."

"Why do you suppose she is such a being?"