The public ledger. [volume] (Maysville, Ky.) 1913-1968, 1914-05-16


say good-by."
She held out her hand
"Good-by. monsieur"
left her standing there, a slender
dark shadow in the starlight, feeling
yet the firm grip of her fingers, and
seeing yet in memory the upturned
face. That she really meant what she
said so confidently l did not truly be
lieve. Her threat OF travelling in com
pany with Girty. or even alone, was
merely uttered in the vague hope that
Il might influence me. She could not
be in earnest. In spite of her assertion
/ was not altogether convinced that
che was an Indian, a Wyandot. She
was so young so girlish, so soft OF
voice and civilized of speech, l could
not associate her with savages, OF
those dark haunted woods. ] even
laughed grimly to myself, as l went
down the bluff. at the thought
The boat was in the dark shadows
of the bank, a sizable canoe, three In
dians-friendly Delawares-grasping
the paddles and kneeling In the bot
tom, and two men holding 1t steady
against the current. One of these. TAN
and straight, would be Brady, but the
other, a mere shadow in the dark, was
unacceptable.
You go with us" I asked.
He Strengthened up. with the motion
OF salute.
Yah. der captain he says 80. don't
idf" the words strongly Dutch.
"Oh, yes, my man; you are the cook
Is there an extra paddle In there,
boys?"
An Indian voice grunted a response
holding IL up.
"All right; take It, and get In. What
is your name?"
Johann Schultz"
remembered him, private in
Browns company, as poor choice a.
could have been made for such an ex.
petition. but 1t was too late now for
an exchange.
I'm with you, Schultz" ordered
sharply, behind the last Indian. and
bend your back; this is to be no pleas.
ure trip after wild flowers. All ready
Brady?"
He stepped into the bow Of the
craft, without answering, and crouch ed
down. his long rife showing above his
shoulder. pushed of, and found
room at the stern. There was a fash
of paddles in the dark water, and, NJ.
most noiselessly, we swept out into the
stream. For the space OF a mile, per.
haps, we skirted the clearing, the river
stream OF silver under the stars, the
land on either side, Jishgured by
blackened tree stumps. making q desc.
late picture. Then the canoe slipped
silently into the forest waterway, the
dense woods on either bank obscuring
the stars. and plunging us into dark
ness. Brady bent over the sharp bow,
HIS eyes watchful for any obstacle, for
any swirl of the current, and ! could
family distinguish his voice in low.
spoken warning to the Indian paddlers
We were hemmed IN by wilderness,
the narrow stream bordered by great
forest trees. with branches over-hang-
ing the current, and huge roots pro-
jecting from the messy banks.
There was little or no underbrush /;
indeed, as the light grew stronger, the
vista stretched far away between the
gnarled trunks OF oak and hickory to
where the land rose In low bluff. II
was a somber scene of gray and green
coloring, save that here and there were
clusters of wild flowers yielding a
brighter hue OF blue and yellow to the
dull background. The silence was pro-
found, the river noiseless except as
the waters occasionally foamed over
some obstacle in their path, or muir
INJURED softly about the sharp prov of
the canoe. High up above the early
morning air fiuttered the leaves, yet so
gently that no sound OF rustling
reached NE. The woods themselves
were desolate, apparently uninhabited.
without even fieeting wild animal to
break their loneliness.
! sat up, rubbing my cramped lin BIS,
and stared about down the forest
aisles; impressed by the somberness
OF our surroundings, yet with every
faculty aroused. The Dutchman's Ian
guild movements. and the perspiration
streaming down his face, told OF hard
nights work.
mo mn CnASrVNyVynp