“And Hamilton, the hair buyer, the scalp buyer, is behind the plan,” said Colonel Zane, in disgust.

“The Indians have their wrongs.  I sympathize with them in many ways.  We have robbed them, broken faith with them, and have not lived up to the treaties.  Pipe and Wingenund are particularly bitter toward the whites.  I understand Cornplanter is also.  He would give anything for Jonathan’s scalp, and I believe any of the tribes would give a hundred of their best warriors for ‘Black Wind,’ as they call Lew Wetzel.”

“Have you ever seen Red Fox?” asked Jonathan, who was sitting near the fire and as usual saying but little.  He was the wildest and most untamable of all the Zanes.  Most of the time he spent in the woods, not so much to fight Indians, as Wetzel did, but for pure love of outdoor life.  At home he was thoughtful and silent.

“Yes, I have seen him,” answered Isaac.  “He is a Shawnee chief and one of the fiercest warriors in that tribe of fighters.  He was at Indian-head, which is the name of one of the Wyandot villages, when I visited there last, and he had two hundred of his best braves with him.”

“He is a bad Indian.  Wetzel and I know him.  He swore he would hang our scalps up in his wigwam,” said Jonathan.

“What has he in particular against you?” asked Colonel Zane.  “Of course, Wetzel is the enemy of all Indians.”

“Several years ago Wetzel and I were on a hunt down the river at the place called Girty’s Point, where we fell in with the tracks of five Shawnees.  I was for coming home, but Wetzel would not hear of it.  We trailed the Indians and, coming up on them after dark, we tomahawked them.  One of them got away crippled, but we could not follow him because we discovered that they had a white girl as captive, and one of the red devils, thinking we were a rescuing party, had tomahawked her.  She was not quite dead.  We did all we could to save her life.  She died and we buried her on the spot.  They were Red Fox’s braves and were on their way to his camp with the prisoner.  A year or so afterwards I learned from a friendly Indian that the Shawnee chief had sworn to kill us.  No doubt he will be a leader in the coming attack.”

“We are living in the midst of terrible times,” remarked Colonel Zane.  “Indeed, these are the times that try men’s souls, but I firmly believe the day is not far distant when the redmen will be driven far over the border.”

“Is the Indian Princess pretty?” asked Betty of Isaac.

“Indeed she is, Betty, almost as beautiful as you are,” said Isaac.  “She is tall and very fair for an Indian.  But I have something to tell about her more interesting than that.  Since I have been with the Wyandots this last time I have discovered a little of the jealously guarded secret of Myeerah’s mother.  When Tarhe and his band of Hurons lived in Canada their home was in the Muskoka Lakes region on the Moon river.  The old warriors tell wonderful stories of the beauty