“Could Jim Girty have gotten your girl?” inquired Jim, in conclusion.

“It’s fairly probable.  The description doesn’t tally with Girty’s.  This renegade was short and heavy, and noted especially for his strength.  Of course, an Indian would first speak of some such distinguishing feature.  There are, however, ten or twelve renegades on the border, and, excepting Jim Girty, one’s as bad as another.”

“Then it’s a common occurrence, this abducting girls from the settlements?”

“Yes, and the strange thing is that one never hears of such doings until he gets out on the frontier.”

“For that matter, you don’t hear much of anything, except of the wonderful 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.”