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it； and； with one last shuddering glance at poor Kate； left the place。
He was conscious of a queer lightness in his head； but he suffered no pain。
His garments were dripping with blood。 He did not know how much of it was his；
or the Indian's。 Instinct rather than sight was his guide。 He grew weaker and
weaker； his head began to whirl； yet he kept on； knowing that life and freedom
were his if he found Whispering Winds。 He gained the top of the ridge； his
eyes were blurred； his strength gone。 He called aloud； and then plunged
forward on his face。 He heard dimly； as though the sound were afar off； the
whine of a dog。 He felt something soft and wet on his face。 Then consciousness
left him。
When he regained his senses he was lying on a bed of ferns under a projecting
rock。 He heard the gurgle of running water mingling with the song of birds。
Near him lay Mose； and beyond rose a wall of green thicket。 Neither Whispering
Winds nor his horse was visible。
He felt a dreamy lassitude。 He was tired； but had no pain。 Finding he could
move without difficulty； he concluded his weakness was more from loss of blood
than a dangerous wound。 He put his hand on the place where he had been
stabbed； and felt a soft； warm compress such as might have been made by a
bunch of wet leaves。 Some one had unlaced his hunting…shirtfor he saw the
strings were not as he usually tied themand had dressed the wound。 Joe
decided； after some deliberation； that Whispering Winds had found him； made
him as comfortable as possible； and； leaving Mose on guard； had gone out to
hunt for food； or perhaps back to the Indian encampment。 The rifle and horns
he had taken from Girty's hut； together with Silvertip's knife； lay beside
him。
As Joe lay there hoping for Whispering Winds' return； his reflections were not
pleasant。 Fortunate； indeed； he was to be alive； but he had no hope he could
continue to be favored by fortune。 Odds were now against his escape。 Girty
would have the Delawares on his trail like a pack of hungry wolves。 He could
not understand the absence of Whispering Winds。 She would have died sooner
than desert him。 Girty had； perhaps； captured her； and was now scouring the
woods for him。
〃I'll get him next time； or he'll get me；〃 muttered Joe； in bitter wrath。 He
could never forgive himself for his failure to kill the renegade。
The recollection of how nearly he had forever ended Girty's brutal career
brought before Joe's mind the scene of the fight。 He saw again Buzzard Jim's
face； revolting； unlike anything human。 There stretched Silvertip's dark
figure； lying still and stark； and there was Kate's white form in its winding；
crimson wreath of blood。 Hauntingly her face returned； sad； stern in its cold
rigidity；。
〃Poor girl； better for her to be dead；〃 he murmured。 〃Not long will she be
unavenged！〃
His thoughts drifted to the future。 He had no fear of starvation； for Mose
could catch a rabbit or woodchuck at any time。 When the strips of meat he had
hidden in his coat were gone； he could start a fire and roast more。 What
concerned him most was pursuit。 His trail from the cabin had been a bloody
one； which would render it easily followed。 He dared not risk exertion until
he had given his wound time to heal。 Then； if he did escape from Girty and the
Delawares； his future was not bright。 His experiences of the last few days had
not only sobered； but brought home to him this real border life。 With all his
fire and daring he new he was no fool。 He had eagerly embraced a career which；
at the present stage of his training； was beyond his scopenot that he did
not know how to act in sudden crises； but because he had not had the necessary
practice to quickly and surely use his knowledge。
Bitter； indeed； was his self…scorn when he recalled that of the several
critical positions he had been in since his acquaintance with Wetzel； he had
failed in all but one。 The exception was the killing of Silvertip。 Here his
fury had made him fight as Wetzel fought with only his every day incentive。 He
realized that the border was no place for any save the boldest and most
experienced huntersmen who had become inured to hardship； callous as to
death； keen as Indians。 Fear was not in Joe nor lack of confidence； but he had
good sense； and realized he would have done a wiser thing had he stayed at
Fort Henry。 Colonel Zane was right。 The Indians were tigers； the renegades
vultures； the vast untrammeled forests and plains their covert。 Ten years of
war had rendered this wilderness a place where those few white men who had
survived were hardened to the spilling of blood； stern even in those few quiet
hours which peril allowed them； strong in their sacrifice of all for future
generations。
A low growl from Mose broke into Joe's reflections。 The dog had raised his
nose from his paws and sniffed suspiciously at the air。 The lad heard a slight
rustling outside； and in another moment was overjoyed at seeing Whispering
Winds。 She came swiftly； with a lithe； graceful motion； and flying to him like
a rush of wind； knelt beside him。 She kissed him and murmured words of
endearment。
〃Winds； where have you been？〃 he asked her； in the mixed English and Indian
dialect in which they conversed。
She told him the dog had led her to him two evenings before。 He was
insensible。 She had bathed and bandaged his wound； and remained with him all
that night。 The next day； finding he was ill and delirious； she decided to
risk returning to the village。 If any questions arose； she could say he had
left her。 Then she would find a way to get back to him； bringing healing herbs
for his wound and a soothing drink。 As it turned out Girty had returned to the
camp。 He was battered and bruised； and in a white heat of passion。 Going at
once to Wingenund； the renegade openly accused Whispering Winds of aiding her
paleface lover to escape。 Wingenund called his daughter before him； and
questioned her。 She confessed all to her father。
〃Why is the daughter of Wingenund a traitor to her race？〃 demanded the chief。
〃Whispering Winds is a Christian。〃
Wingenund received this intelligence as a blow。 He dismissed Girty and sent
his braves from his lodge； facing his daughter alone。 Gloomy and stern； he
paced before her。
〃Wingenund's blood might change； but would never betray。 Wingenund is the
Delaware chief；〃 he said。 〃Go。 Darken no more the door of Wingenund's wigwam。
Let the flower of the Delawares fade in alien pastures。 Go。 Whispering Winds
is free！〃
Tears shone brightly in the Indian girl's eyes while she told Joe her story。
She loved her father； and she would see him no more。
〃Winds is free；〃 she whispered。 〃When strength returns to her master she can
follow him to the white villages。 Winds will live her life for him。〃
〃Then we have no one to fear？〃 asked Joe。
〃No redman； now that the Shawnee chief is dead。〃
〃Will Girty follow us？ He is a coward； he will fear