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liking to the young man when he led the brothers to Fort Henry。 Subsequent
events strengthened his liking； and now； many days after； Joe having followed
him into the forest； a strong attachment had been insensibly forged between
them。
Wetzel understood Joe's burning desire to roam the forests； but he half
expected the lad would soon grow tired of this roving life； but exactly the
opposite symptoms were displayed。 The hunter had intended to take his comrade
on a hunting trip； and to return with him； after that was over； to Fort Henry。
They had now been in the woods for weeks and every day in some way had Joe
showed his mettle。 Wetzel finally admitted him into the secrets of his most
cherished hiding place。 He did not want to hurt the lad's feelings by taking
him back to the settlement； he could not send him back。 So the days wore on
swiftly； full of heart…satisfying incident and life； with man and boy growing
closer in an intimacy that was as warm as it was unusual。
Two reasons might account for this： First； there is no sane human being who is
not better off for companionship。 An exile would find something of happiness
in one who shared his misery。 And； secondly； Joe was a most acceptable
comrade； even for a slayer of Indians。 Wedded as Wetzel was to the forest
trails； to his lonely life； to the Nemesis…pursuit he had followed for
eighteen long years； he was still a white man； kind and gentle in his quiet
hours； and because of this； though he knew it not； still capable of affection。
He had never known youth； his manhood had been one pitiless warfare against
his sworn foes； but once in all those years had his sore； cold heart warmed；
and that was toward a woman who was not for him。 His life had held only one
purposea bloody one。 Yet the man had a heart； and he could not prevent it
from responding to another。 In his simple ignorance he rebelled against this
affection for anything other than his forest homes。 Man is weak against hate；
what can he avail against love？ The dark caverns of Wetzel's great heart
opened； admitting to their gloomy depths this stranger。 So now a new love was
born in that cheerless heart； where for so long a lonely inmate； the ghost of
old love； had dwelt in chill seclusion。
The feeling of comradeship which Wetzel had for Joe was something altogether
new in the hunter's life。 True he had hunted with Jonathan Zane； and
accompanied expeditions where he was forced to sleep with another scout； but a
companion； not to say friend； he had never known。 Joe was a boy； wilder than
an eagle； yet he was a man。 He was happy and enthusiastic； still his good
spirits never jarred on the hunter； they were restrained。 He never asked
questions； as would seem the case in any eager lad； he waited until he was
spoken to。 He was apt； he never forgot anything； he had the eye of a born
woodsman； and lastly； perhaps what went far with Wetzel； he was as strong and
supple as a young lynx； and absolutely fearless。
On this evening Wetzel and Joe followed their usual custom； they smoked a
while before lying down to sleep。 Tonight the hunter was even more silent than
usual； and the lad； tired out with his day's tramp； lay down on a bed of
fragrant boughs。
Wetzel sat there in the gathering gloom while he pulled slowly on his pipe。
The evening was very quiet； the birds had ceased their twittering； the wind
had died away； it was too early for the bay of a wolf； the wail of a panther；
or hoot of an owl； there was simply perfect silence。
The lad's deep； even breathing caught Wetzel's ear； and he found himself
meditating； as he had often of late； on this new something that had crept into
his life。 For Joe loved him； he could not fail to see that。 The lad had
preferred to roam with the lonely Indian…hunter through the forests； to
encounter the perils and hardships of a wild life； rather than accept the
smile of fortune and of love。 Wetzel knew that Colonel Zane had taken a liking
to the boy； and had offered him work and a home； and； also； the hunter
remembered the warm light he had seen in Nell's hazel eyes。 Musing thus； the
man felt stir in his heart an emotion so long absent that it was unfamiliar。
The Avenger forgot； for a moment his brooding plans。 He felt strangely
softened。 When he laid his head on the rude pillow it was with some sense of
gladness that； although he had always desired a lonely life； and wanted to
pass it in the fulfillment of his vow； his loneliness was now shared by a lad
who loved him。
Joe was awakened by the merry chirp of a chipmunk that every morning ran along
the seamy side of the opposite wall of the gorge。 Getting up； he went to the
back of the cave； where he found Wetzel combing out his long hair。 The lad
thrust his hands into the cold pool； and bathed his face。 The water was icy
cold； and sent an invigorating thrill through him。 Then he laughed as he took
a rude comb Wetzel handed to him。
〃My scalp is nothing to make an Indian very covetous； is it？〃 said he； eyeing
in admiration the magnificent black hair that fell over the hunter's
shoulders。
〃It'll grow；〃 answered Wetzel。
Joe did not wonder at the care Wetzel took of his hair； nor did he
misunderstand the hunter's simple pride。 Wetzel was very careful of his rifle；
he was neat and clean about his person； he brushed his buckskin costume； he
polished his knife and tomahawk； but his hair received more attention than all
else。 It required much care。 When combed out it reached fully to his knees。
Joe had seen him； after he returned from a long hunt； work patiently for an
hour with his wooden comb； and not stop until every little burr was gone； or
tangle smoothed out。 Then he would comb it again in the morningthis； of
course； when time permittedand twist and tie it up so as to offer small
resistance to his slipping through the underbush。 Joe knew the hunter's
simplicity was such； that if he cut off his hair it would seem he feared the
Indiansfor that streaming black hair the Indians had long coveted and sworn
to take。 It would make any brave a famous chief； and was the theme of many a
savage war tale。
After breakfast Wetzel said to Joe：
〃You stay here； an' I'll look round some； mebbe I'll come back soon； and we'll
go out an' kill a buffalo。 Injuns sometimes foller up a buffalo trail； an' I
want to be sure none of the varlets are chasin' that herd we saw to…day。〃
Wetzel left the cave by the rear。 It took him fifteen minutes to crawl to the
head of the tortuous； stony passage。 Lifting the stone which closed up the
aperture； he looked out and listened。 Then； rising； he replaced the stone； and
passed down the wooded hillside。
It was a beautiful morning； the dew glistened on the green leaves； the sun
shone bright and warm； the birds warbled in the trees。 The hunter's moccasins
pressed so gently on the moss and leaves that they made no more sound than the
soft foot of a panther。 His trained ear was alert to catch any unfamiliar
noise； his keen eyes sought first the remoter open glades and glens； then bent
their gaze on the mossy bluff beneath his feet。 Fox squirrels dashed from
before him into bushy retreats； grouse whirred away into the thickets；
startled deer whistled； and loped off with their white…flags upraised。 Wetzel
knew from the action of these denizens of the woods that he was the only
creature； not native to these haunts； who had disturbed them this morning。
Otherwise the deer would not have been grazing； but lying low in some close
thicket； fox squirrels seldom or never were disturbed by a hunter twice in one
day； for after being frightened these little animals； wilder and shyer than
gray squirrels； remained hidden for hours； and grouse that have been flushed a
little while before； always get up unusually quick； and fly very far before
alighting。
Wetzel circled back over the hill； took a long survey from a rocky eminence；
and then reconnoitered the lowland for several miles。 He located the herd of
buffalo； and satisfying himself there were no Indians nearfor the bison were
grazing quietlyhe returned to the cave。 A soft whistle into the back door of
the rocky home told Joe that the hunter was waiting。
〃Coast clear？〃 whispered the lad； thrusting his head out of the entrance。 His
gray eyes gleamed brightly； showing his eager spirit。
The hunter nodded； and； throwing his rifle in the hollow of his arm； proceeded
down the hill。 Joe followed closely； endeavoring； as Wetzel had trained him；
to make each step precisely in the hunter's footprints。 The lad had soon
learned to step nimbly and softly as a cat。 When half way down the bill Wetzel
paused。
〃See anythin'？〃 he whispered。
Joe glanced on all sides。 Many mistakes had taught him to be cautious。 He had
learned from experience that for every woodland creature he saw； there were
ten watching his every move。 Just now he could not see even a little red
squirrel。 Everywhere w