“Their heads were shaved closely, with the exception of a little place on top.  The remaining hair was twisted into a tuft, tied tightly, and into this had been thrust a couple of painted pins.  When Wetzel scalped the Indians the pins fell out.  I picked one up, and found it to be bone.”

“You will make a woodsman, that’s certain,” replied Colonel Zane.  “The Indians were Shawnee on the warpath.  Well, we will not borrow trouble, for when it comes in the shape of redskins it usually comes quickly.  Mr. Wells seemed anxious to resume the journey down the river; but I shall try to persuade him to remain with us awhile.  Indeed, I am sorry I cannot keep you all here at Fort Henry, and more especially the girls.  On the border we need young people, and, while I do not want to frighten the women, I fear there will be more than Indians fighting for them.”

“I hope not; but we have come prepared for anything,” said Kate, with a quiet smile.  “Our home was with uncle, and when he announced his intention of going west we decided our duty was to go with him.”

“You were right, and I hope you will find a happy home,” rejoined Colonel Zane.  “If life among the Indians, proves to be too hard, we shall welcome you here.  Betty, show the girls your pets and Indian trinkets.  I am going to take the boys to Silas’ cabin to see Mr. Wells, and then show them over the fort.”

As they went out Joe saw the Indian guide standing in exactly the same position as when they entered the building.

“Can’t that Indian move?” he asked curiously.

“He can cover one hundred miles in a day, when he wants to,” replied Colonel Zane.  “He is resting now.  An Indian will often stand or sit in one position for many hours.”

“He’s a fine-looking chap,” remarked Joe, and then to himself:  “but I don’t like him.  I guess I’m prejudiced.”

“You’ll learn to like Tome, as we call him.”

“Colonel Zane, I want a light for my pipe.  I haven’t had a smoke since the day we were captured.  That blamed redskin took my tobacco.  It’s lucky I had some in my other pack.  I’d like to meet him again; also Silvertip and that brute Girty.”

“My lad, don’t make such wishes,” said Colonel Zane, earnestly.  “You were indeed fortunate to escape, and I can well understand your feelings.  There is nothing I should like better than to see Girty over the sights of my rifle; but I never hunt after danger, and to look for Girty is to court death.”

“But Wetzel—–­”

“Ah, my lad, I know Wetzel goes alone in the woods; but then, he is different from other men.  Before you leave I will tell you all about him.”

Colonel Zane went around the corner of the cabin and returned with a live coal on a chip of wood, which Joe placed in the bowl of his pipe, and because of the strong breeze stepped close to the cabin wall.  Being a keen observer, he noticed many small, round holes in the logs.  They were so near together that the timbers had an odd, speckled appearance, and there was hardly a place where he could have put his thumb without covering a hole.  At first he thought they were made by a worm or bird peculiar to that region; but finally lie concluded that they were bullet-holes.  He thrust his knife blade into one, and out rolled a leaden ball.