“Yer brother’s goin’ to preach out here, ain’t he?  Preachin’ is all right, I’ll allow; but I’m kinder doubtful about preachin’ to redskins.  Howsumever, I’ve knowed Injuns who are good fellows, and there’s no tellin’.  What are ye goin’ in fer—­farmin’?”

“No, I wouldn’t make a good farmer.”

“Jest cum out kinder wild like, eh?” rejoined Jeff, knowingly.

“I wanted to come West because I was tired of tame life.  I love the forest; I want to fish and hunt; and I think I’d like to—­to see Indians.”

“I kinder thought so,” said the old frontiersman, nodding his head as though he perfectly understood Joe’s case.  “Well, lad, where you’re goin’ seein’ Injuns ain’t a matter of choice.  You has to see ’em, and fight ’em, too.  We’ve had bad times for years out here on the border, and I’m thinkin’ wuss is comin’.  Did ye ever hear the name Girty?”

“Yes; he’s a renegade.”

“He’s a traitor, and Jim and George Girty, his brothers, are p’isin rattlesnake Injuns.  Simon Girty’s bad enough; but Jim’s the wust.  He’s now wusser’n a full-blooded Delaware.  He’s all the time on the lookout to capture white wimen to take to his Injun teepee.  Simon Girty and his pals, McKee and Elliott, deserted from that thar fort right afore yer eyes.  They’re now livin’ among the redskins down Fort Henry way, raisin’ as much hell fer the settlers as they kin.”

“Is Fort Henry near the Indian towns?” asked Joe.

“There’s Delawares, Shawnees and Hurons all along the Ohio below Fort Henry.”

“Where is the Moravian Mission located?”

“Why, lad, the Village of Peace, as the Injuns call it, is right in the midst of that Injun country.  I ’spect it’s a matter of a hundred miles below and cross-country a little from Fort Henry.”

“The fort must be an important point, is it not?”

“Wal, I guess so.  It’s the last place on the river,” answered Lynn, with a grim smile.  “There’s only a stockade there, an’ a handful of men.  The Injuns hev swarmed down on it time and ag’in, but they hev never burned it.  Only such men as Colonel Zane, his brother Jack, and Wetzel could hev kept that fort standin’ all these bloody years.  Eb Zane’s got but a few men, yet he kin handle ’em some, an’ with such scouts as Jack Zane and Wetzel, he allus knows what’s goin’ on among the Injuns.”

“I’ve heard of Colonel Zane.  He was an officer under Lord Dunmore.  The hunters here speak often of Jack Zane and Wetzel.  What are they?”

“Jack Zane is a hunter an’ guide.  I knowed him well a few years back.  He’s a quiet, mild chap; but a streak of chain-lightnin’ when he’s riled.  Wetzel is an Injun-killer.  Some people say as how he’s crazy over scalp-huntin’; but I reckon that’s not so.  I’ve seen him a few times.  He don’t hang round the settlement ’cept when the Injuns are up, an’ nobody sees him much.  At home he sets round silent-like, an’ then mebbe next mornin’ he’ll