of that country.  Tarhe took captive some French travellers, among them a woman named La Durante.  She had a beautiful little girl.  The prisoners, except this little girl, were released.  When she grew up Tarhe married her.  Myeerah is her child.  Once Tarhe took his wife to Detroit and she was seen there by an old Frenchman who went crazy over her and said she was his child.  Tarhe never went to the white settlements again.  So you see, Myeerah is from a great French family on her mother’s side, as this is old Frenchman was probably Chevalier La Durante, and Myeerah’s grandfather.”

“I would love to see her, and yet I hate her.  What an odd name she has,” said Betty.

“It is the Indian name for the white crane, a rare and beautiful bird.  I never saw one.  The name has been celebrated among the Hurons as long as any one of them can remember.  The Indians call her the White Crane, or Walk-in-the-Water, because of her love for wading in the stream.”

“I think we have made Isaac talk enough for one night,” said Colonel Zane.  “He is tired out.  Major, tell Isaac and Betty, and Mr. Clarke, too, of your jump over the cliff.”

“I have heard of that leap from the Indians,” said Isaac.

“Major, from what hill did you jump your horse?” asked Alfred.

“You know the bare rocky bluff that stands out prominently on the hill across the creek.  From that spot Colonel Zane first saw the valley, and from there I leaped my horse.  I can never convince myself that it really happened.  Often I look up at that cliff in doubt.  But the Indians and Colonel Zane, Jonathan, Wetzel and others say they actually saw the deed done, so I must accept it,” said Major McColloch.

“It seems incredible!” said Alfred.  “I cannot understand how a man or horse could go over that precipice and live.”

“That is what we all say,” responded the Colonel.  “I suppose I shall have to tell the story.  We have fighters and makers of history here, but few talkers.”

“I am anxious to hear it,” answered Clarke, “and I am curious to see this man Wetzel, whose fame has reached as far as my home, way down in Virginia.”

“You will have your wish gratified soon, I have no doubt,” resumed the Colonel.  “Well, now for the story of McColloch’s mad ride for life and his wonderful leap down Wheeling hill.  A year ago, when the fort was besieged by the Indians, the Major got through the lines and made off for Short Creek.  He returned next morning with forty mounted men.  They marched boldly up to the gate, and all succeeded in getting inside save the gallant Major, who had waited to be the last man to go in.  Finding it impossible to make the short distance without going under the fire of the Indians, who had rushed up to prevent the relief party from entering the fort, he wheeled his big stallion, and, followed by the yelling band of savages, he took the road leading around back of the fort to the top of the bluff.  The road