“It was on the river road that I first met Miss Zane, although I did not know her then,” answered Alfred.  “I had some difficulty in stopping her pony from going to Fort Pitt, or some other place down the river.”

“Ha!  Ha!  Well, I know she rides that pony pretty hard,” said Colonel Zane, with his hearty laugh.  “I’ll tell you, Clarke, we have some riders here in the settlement.  Have you heard of Major McColloch’s leap over the hill?”

“I have heard it mentioned, and I would like to hear the story,” responded Alfred.  “I am fond of horses, and think I can ride a little myself.  I am afraid I shall be compelled to change my mind.”

“That is a fine animal you rode from Fort Pitt,” remarked the Major.  “I would like to own him.”

“Come, draw your chairs up and he’ll listen to Isaac’s story,” said Colonel Zane.

“I have not much of a story to tell,” said Isaac, in a voice still weak and low.  “I have some bad news, I am sorry to say, but I shall leave that for the last.  This year, if it had been completed, would have made my tenth year as a captive of the Wyandots.  This last period of captivity, which has been nearly four years, I have not been ill-treated and have enjoyed more comfort than any of you can imagine.  Probably you are all familiar with the reason for my long captivity.  Because of the interest of Myeerah, the Indian Princess, they have importuned me for years to be adopted into the tribe, marry the White Crane, as they call Myeerah, and become a Wyandot chief.  To this I would never consent, though I have been careful not to provoke the Indians.  I was allowed the freedom of the camp, but have always been closely watched.  I should still be with the Indians had I not suspected that Hamilton, the British Governor, had formed a plan with the Hurons, Shawnees, Delawares, and other tribes, to strike a terrible blow at the whites along, the river.  For months I have watched the Indians preparing for an expedition, the extent of which they had never before undertaken.  I finally learned from Myeerah that my suspicions were well founded.  A favorable chance to escape presented and I took it and got away.  I outran all the braves, even Arrowswift, the Wyandot runner, who shot me through the arm.  I have had a hard time of it these last three or four days, living on herbs and roots, and when I reached the river I was ready to drop.  I pushed a log into the water and started to drift over.  When the old dog saw me I knew I was safe if I could hold on.  Once, when the young man pointed his gun at me, I thought it was all over.  I could not shout very loud.”

“Were you going to shoot?” asked Colonel Zane of Clarke.

“I took him for an Indian, but fortunately I discovered my mistake in time,” answered Alfred.

“Are the Indians on the way here?” asked Jonathan.

“That I cannot say.  At present the Wyandots are at home.  But I know that the British and the Indians will make a combined attack on the settlements.  It may be a month, or a year, but it is coming.”