"Oh-h! I was
afraid. Oh! I am glad you're back safe. See, this noble Indian has
come to help us."
Wingenund stood calm and erect by the door.
"Chief, what will you do?"
"Wingenund will show you the way to the big river," answered the
chieftain, in his deep bass.
"Run away? No, never! That would be cowardly. Heckewelder, you would
not go? Nor you, Zeisberger? We may yet be of use, we may yet save
some of the Christians."
"Save the yellow-hair," sternly said Wingenund.
"Oh, Jim, you don't understand. The chief has come to warn me of
Girty. He intends to take me as he has others, as he did poor Kate.
did you not see the meaning in his eyes to-day? How they scorched
me! Ho! Jim, take me away! Save me! Do not leave me here to that
horrible fate? Oh! Jim, take me away!"
"Nell, I will take you," cried Jim, grasping her hands.
"Hurry! There's a blanket full of things I packed for you," said
Heckewelder. "Lose no time. Ah! hear that! My Heavens! what a yell!"
Heckewelder rushed to the door and looked out. "There they go, a
black mob of imps; a pack of hungry wolves! Jim Girty is in the
lead. How he leaps! How he waves his sledge! He leads the savages
toward the church. Oh! it's the end!"
"Benny? Where's Benny?" cried Jim, hurriedly lacing the hunting coat
he had flung about him.
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