Col.  Zane sat oftener and longer than ever before in his favorite seat on his doorstep.  On this evening he had just returned from a hard day in the fields, and sat down to rest a moment before going to supper.  A few days previous Isaac Zane and Myeerah had come to the settlement.  Myeerah brought a treaty of peace signed by Tarhe and the other Wyandot chieftains.  The once implacable Huron was now ready to be friendly with the white people.  Col.  Zane and his brothers signed the treaty, and Betty, by dint of much persuasion, prevailed on Wetzel to bury the hatchet with the Hurons.  So Myeerah’s love, like the love of many other women, accomplished more than years of war and bloodshed.

The genial and happy smile never left Col.  Zane’s face, and as he saw the well-laden rafts coming down the river, and the air of liveliness and animation about the growing settlement, his smile broadened into one of pride and satisfaction.  The prophecy that he had made twelve years before was fulfilled.  His dream was realized.  The wild, beautiful spot where he had once built a bark shack and camped half a year without seeing a white man was now the scene of a bustling settlement; and he believed he would live to see that settlement grow into a prosperous city.  He did not think of the thousands of acres which would one day make him a wealthy man.  He was a pioneer at heart; he had opened up that rich new country; he had conquered all obstacles, and that was enough to make him content.

“Papa, when shall I be big enough to fight bars and bufflers and Injuns?” asked Noah, stopping in his play and straddling his father’s knee.

“My boy, did you not have Indians enough a short time ago?”

“But, papa, I did not get to see any.  I heard the shooting and yelling.  Sammy was afraid, but I wasn’t.  I wanted to look out of the little holes, but they locked us up in the dark room.”

“If that boy ever grows up to be like Jonathan or Wetzel it will be the death of me,” said the Colonel’s wife, who had heard the lad’s chatter.

“Don’t worry, Bessie.  When Noah grows to be a man the Indians will be gone.”

Col.  Zane heard the galloping of a horse and looking up saw Clarke coming down the road on his black thoroughbred.  The Colonel rose and walked out to the hitching-block, where Clarke had reined in his fiery steed.

“Ah, Alfred.  Been out for a ride?”

“Yes, I have been giving Roger a little exercise.”

“That’s a magnificent animal.  I never get tired watching him move.  He’s the best bit of horseflesh on the river.  By the way, we have not seen much of you since the siege.  Of course you have been busy.  Getting ready to put on the harness, eh?  Well, that’s what we want the young men to do.  Come over and see us.”

“I have been trying to come.  You know how it is with me—­about Betty, I mean.  Col.  Zane, I—­I love her.  That’s all.”

“Yes, I know, Alfred, and I don’t wonder at your fears.  But I have always liked you, and now I guess it’s about time for me to put a spoke in your wheel of fortune.  If Betty cares for you—­and I have a sneaking idea she does—­I will give her to you.”