Adventure, December 3, 1920 — page 98: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

88 our talk is what I believe I owe to that friendship. Now tell me something about our backwoods settlements.” In story-writing the lover should, or usually does,, fling himself off the scene when his at- tempt at love-making is thwarted. Not so in life with Patsy. I believed she cared for me, or would care for me if I could only measure up to the standard provided for her by her father’s influence. So instead of running away I remained and tried to give her a truthful picture of border conditions, She understood my words but she could not visualize what the cabins stood for. They were so many humble habitations, un- desirable for the town-bred to dwell in, rather than the symbols of many, happy American homes. She pretended to see when she was blind, but her nods and bright glances deceived me none. She had no inkling of what a frontier woman must contend with every day, and could she have glimpsed the stern life, even in spots, it would be to draw back in disgust at the hardships involved. So I omitted all descriptions of how the newly married were provided with homes by a few hours’ work on the part of the neighbors, how the simple furniture was quickly fashioned from slabs and sections of logs, how a few er dishers and the husband’s rifle con- stituted the happy couple’s worldly posses- sions. She wished to be nice to me, I could see. She wished to send me away with amiable thoughts. “It sounds very interesting,’ she said. “Father must take me over the» mountains before we return to town.” “Do not ask him to do that,” I cried. And I repeated the message sent by Mrs. Davis. She was the one person who always had her own way with Ericus Dale. She smiled tole- antly and scoffed: as ather’s cousin sees danger where there isn’t any. No Indian would ever bother me once he knew I was my father’s daughter.” “Patsy Dale,” I declared in my desperation. “T’ve loved you from the day I first saw you. I love you now. It’s all over between us be- cause you have ended it. But do not for your own sake cross the mountains until the Indian danger is ended. Howard’s Creek is the last place you should visit. Why, even this side of the creek I had to fight for my life. The Indians had murdered a family of four, two of them children.” She gave a little shudder but would not surrender her confidence in her father. “One would think I intended going alone. I know the Indians are killing white folks, and are being killed by white folks. But with my father beside me——” “If you love — ee keep him on this side of the Alleghani Adventure “You will make me angry, Basdel. I don’t want to be displeased with you. My father has known the Indians for years. He has warm friends in every tribe. He is as safe among them as he is here in Salem. And if Howard’s Creek is in danger he can request the Indians to keep away from it.” : “Good God! Are you as blind as all that?” groaned. “Forest-running, Basdel, has made you violent and rough in your ‘talk, ” she icily re- buked. “You hate the Indians simply because you do not understand them. Now I’m posi- tive that the best thing for you to do is to keep away from the frontier and see if you can’t start right on this side of the-mountains.”’ It would be folly to argue with her longer. I fished a pair of moccasins, absurdly small, from the breast of my hunting-shirt and placed them on the table. I had bought them from a squaw in White Eyes’ village, and they were lavishly embroidered with gay beads. The squaw had laughed when I told the size I wanted “Tf you will forget these came from the forest and will let me leave them, I shall be pleased,” I said. “If you don’t care for them, just chuck them aside. I had to guess at the size.” “Oh, they are beautiful,” she softly exclaimed, snatching them from the table. “Basdel, why not stay on this side of the mountains? You're @ very clever young man if you would only give yourself a chance. Very soon you could go to the house of burgesses. If you don’t care to go into trade you could speculate in land. Father is against it, but if it will be done, you might as well do it as to leave the cream for others.” “Even if I wished to stay, I could not,” I replied. “I have much to do over there. Un- finished work. I have promised Colonel Lewis to carry dispatches when not scouting. If they can send some one to Fort Pitt in my place I shall serve as scout in the Clinch River valley. The people down there are badly upset.” “Well, giving yourself for others may be very Christian-like. One must decide for one- self,” she said. “The people over there help each other. They stand together. If I can help them, I shall be helping myself.” “T wish my father could go there and make them see how silly they are,” she impatiently declared. ‘If they would only be friendly with the Indians! It is so simple——” “T know a fellow about your age,” I broke in. “The Indians killed his people on Keeney’s Knob ten years ago and stole his little sister. He doesn’t know whether she is dead or a captive. His folks were friendly. They were butchered after making a feast for Cornstalk and his warriors. There are many such cases. It would do no good for your father to tell (EO LPNIE MOO KS (F@ ‘ var a) | ae