Wingenund was true to his race, but he was a Christian.
Suddenly Wetzel's terrible temptation, his heart-racking struggle
ceased. He lowered the long, black rifle. He took one last look at
the chieftain's dark, powerful face.
Then the Avenger fled like a shadow through the forest.
Chapter XXX.
It was late afternoon at Fort Henry. The ruddy sun had already sunk
behind the wooded hill, and the long shadows of the trees lengthened
on the green square in front of the fort.
Colonel Zane stood in his doorway watching the river with eager
eyes. A few minutes before a man had appeared on the bank of the
island and hailed. The colonel had sent his brother Jonathan to
learn what was wanted. The latter had already reached the other
shore in his flatboat, and presently the little boat put out again
with the stranger seated at the stern.
"I thought, perhaps, it might be Wetzel," mused the colonel, "though
I never knew of Lew's wanting a boat."
Jonathan brought the man across the river, and up the winding path
to where Colonel Zane was waiting.
"Hello! It's young Christy!" exclaimed the colonel, jumping off the
steps, and cordially extending his hand. "Glad to see you! Where's
Williamson. How did you happen over here?"
"Captain Williamson and his men will make the river eight or ten
miles above," answered Christy.
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