them, than ever before."
"Who is this big man coming from the the fort?" asked Joe, suddenly
observing a stalwart frontiersman approaching.
"Major Sam McColloch. You have met him. He's the man who jumped his
horse from yonder bluff."
"Jonathan and he have the same look, the same swing," observed Joe,
as he ran his eye over the major. His faded buckskin costume,
beaded, fringed, and laced, was similar to that of the colonel's
brother. Powder-flask and bullet-pouch were made from cow-horns and
slung around his neck on deerhide strings. The hunting coat was
unlaced, exposing, under the long, fringed borders, a tunic of the
same well-tanned, but finer and softer, material. As he walked, the
flaps of his coat fell back, showing a belt containing two knives,
sheathed in heavy buckskin, and a bright tomahawk. He carried a long
rifle in the hollow of his arm.
"These hunters have the same kind of buckskin suits," continued Joe;
"still, it doesn't seem to me the clothes make the resemblance to
each other. The way these men stand, walk and act is what strikes me
particularly, as in the case of Wetzel."
"I know what you mean. The flashing eye, the erect poise of
expectation, and the springy step—those, my lad, come from a life
spent in the woods. Well, it's a grand way to live."
"Colonel, my horse is laid up," said Major McColloch, coming to the
steps. He bowed pleasantly to Joe.
"So you are going to Short Creek? You can have one of my horses; but
first come inside and we'll talk over you expedition."
The afternoon passed uneventfully for Joe. His brother and Mr. Wells
were absorbed in plans for their future work, and Nell and Kate were
resting; therefore he was forced to find such amusement or
occupation as was possible in or near the stockade.
Chapter IX
*
Joe went to bed that night with a promise to himself to rise early
next morning, for he had been invited to take part in a "raising,"
which term meant that a new cabin was to be erected, and such task
was ever an event in the lives of the settlers.
The following morning Joe rose early, dressing himself in a complete
buckskin suit, for which he had exchanged his good garments of
cloth. Never before had he felt so comfortable. He wanted to hop,
skip and jump. The soft, undressed buckskin was as warm and smooth
as silk-plush; the weight so light, the moccasins so well-fitting
and springy, that he had to put himself under considerable restraint
to keep from capering about like a frolicsome colt.
The possession of this buckskin outfit, and the rifle and
accouterments which went with the bargain, marked the last stage in
Joe's surrender to the border fever. The silent, shaded glens, the
mystery of the woods, the breath of this wild, free life claimed him
from this moment entirely and forever.
He met the others, however, with a serene face, showing no trace of
the emotion which welled up strongly from his heart. Nell glanced
shyly at him; Kate playfully voiced her admiration; Jim met him with
a brotherly ridicule which bespoke his affection as well as his
amusement; but Colonel Zane, having once yielded to the same
burning, riotous craving for freedom which now stirred in the boy's
heart, understood, and felt warmly drawn toward the lad. He said
nothing, though as he watched Joe his eyes were grave and kind. In
his long frontier life, where many a day measured the life and fire
of ordinary years, he had seen lad after lad go down before this
forest fever. It was well, he thought, because the freedom of the
soil depended on these wild, light-footed boys; yet it always made
him sad. How many youths, his brother among them, lay under the
fragrant pine-needle carpet of the forest, in their last earthly
sleep!
The "raising" brought out all the settlement—the women to look on
and gossip, while the children played; the men to bend their backs
in the moving of the heavy timbers. They celebrated the erection of
a new cabin as a noteworthy event. As a social function it had
"Who is this big man coming from the the fort?" asked Joe, suddenly
observing a stalwart frontiersman approaching.
"Major Sam McColloch. You have met him. He's the man who jumped his
horse from yonder bluff."
"Jonathan and he have the same look, the same swing," observed Joe,
as he ran his eye over the major. His faded buckskin costume,
beaded, fringed, and laced, was similar to that of the colonel's
brother. Powder-flask and bullet-pouch were made from cow-horns and
slung around his neck on deerhide strings. The hunting coat was
unlaced, exposing, under the long, fringed borders, a tunic of the
same well-tanned, but finer and softer, material. As he walked, the
flaps of his coat fell back, showing a belt containing two knives,
sheathed in heavy buckskin, and a bright tomahawk. He carried a long
rifle in the hollow of his arm.
"These hunters have the same kind of buckskin suits," continued Joe;
"still, it doesn't seem to me the clothes make the resemblance to
each other. The way these men stand, walk and act is what strikes me
particularly, as in the case of Wetzel."
"I know what you mean. The flashing eye, the erect poise of
expectation, and the springy step—those, my lad, come from a life
spent in the woods. Well, it's a grand way to live."
"Colonel, my horse is laid up," said Major McColloch, coming to the
steps. He bowed pleasantly to Joe.
"So you are going to Short Creek? You can have one of my horses; but
first come inside and we'll talk over you expedition."
The afternoon passed uneventfully for Joe. His brother and Mr. Wells
were absorbed in plans for their future work, and Nell and Kate were
resting; therefore he was forced to find such amusement or
occupation as was possible in or near the stockade.
Chapter IX
*
Joe went to bed that night with a promise to himself to rise early
next morning, for he had been invited to take part in a "raising,"
which term meant that a new cabin was to be erected, and such task
was ever an event in the lives of the settlers.
The following morning Joe rose early, dressing himself in a complete
buckskin suit, for which he had exchanged his good garments of
cloth. Never before had he felt so comfortable. He wanted to hop,
skip and jump. The soft, undressed buckskin was as warm and smooth
as silk-plush; the weight so light, the moccasins so well-fitting
and springy, that he had to put himself under considerable restraint
to keep from capering about like a frolicsome colt.
The possession of this buckskin outfit, and the rifle and
accouterments which went with the bargain, marked the last stage in
Joe's surrender to the border fever. The silent, shaded glens, the
mystery of the woods, the breath of this wild, free life claimed him
from this moment entirely and forever.
He met the others, however, with a serene face, showing no trace of
the emotion which welled up strongly from his heart. Nell glanced
shyly at him; Kate playfully voiced her admiration; Jim met him with
a brotherly ridicule which bespoke his affection as well as his
amusement; but Colonel Zane, having once yielded to the same
burning, riotous craving for freedom which now stirred in the boy's
heart, understood, and felt warmly drawn toward the lad. He said
nothing, though as he watched Joe his eyes were grave and kind. In
his long frontier life, where many a day measured the life and fire
of ordinary years, he had seen lad after lad go down before this
forest fever. It was well, he thought, because the freedom of the
soil depended on these wild, light-footed boys; yet it always made
him sad. How many youths, his brother among them, lay under the
fragrant pine-needle carpet of the forest, in their last earthly
sleep!
The "raising" brought out all the settlement—the women to look on
and gossip, while the children played; the men to bend their backs
in the moving of the heavy timbers. They celebrated the erection of
a new cabin as a noteworthy event. As a social function it had
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