Forth from the cover of the wood came the strange girl known as Kanawha Kate. In her hand she carried the long rifle common to the frontier. In her belt was thrust the keen-edged scalping-knife of the Indian.
For a moment she paused in the center of the glade and listened eagerly.
“She is then in the Shawnee village, the prisoner of the renegade,” she murmured. “She, the promised wife of the man that I love with all the passion of my nature.” Full of agony was the tone in which she spoke.
“Why did I permit this terrible love to take possession of my heart? Why did I not crush it at the moment of its birth? But my rival is in the power of the Indians. This man, Girty, may make her his, then she will be removed from my path forever. Why should I interfere to save her? If Harvey does not see her again he may forget her, and then I may be able to win his love. Oh! how full of bliss is even the thought.”
For a moment she stood like one inspired, her eyes flashing and her lips half-opened. And then a change came over her face. Her head sunk down listlessly upon her breast.
“Alas! it is but a dream,” she murmured, sorrowfully. “He will never learn to love me even if she is lost to him. I have forgotten the stain that clings to me. Forgotten that I am the daughter of the renegade. One at whom the finger of scorn is pointed. A wretched creature not fit to associate with others whose skins are white like mine. I am an outcast, a child of the forest. What madness then to think that I can ever win the love of a man like Harvey Winthrop. No, it is impossible.”
Slowly and mournfully Kate spoke, as the truth forced itself upon her mind.
“I must to the Shawnee village!” she cried, suddenly. “The Indians know me as the daughter of the renegade and will not harm me. On my way through the forest I can decide on what course to pursue. Whether to leave Virginia to her fate, to the cruel mercy of having her life spared by Girty, only to become his wife; or to save her—if it be possible—and give her to the man who has, unknowingly, won my heart. Oh! to leave her to Girty is a terrible temptation; Heaven give me strength to resist it!”
Then through the wood Kate followed on the trail of her father and Girty.
Cautiously she followed on the trail till it led into the Indian village by the bank of the Scioto, known as Chillicothe.