“Do, and I promise you a hearty welcome!” exclaimed Virginia.
“Oh, I will come!” cried Kate, her eyes gleaming.
“Good-by, then,” and the rescued girl turned to Winthrop. “If you are going to Point Pleasant, I will be your guide, and I am sure that my father will be very glad to see you, particularly when he learns that you have saved the life of his only child!”
Virginia embraced Kate heartily, and kissed her as if she had been a sister; Winthrop shook her warmly by the hand, and then the two, leaving the forest maid standing by the body of the dead brute, retraced their way to the little trail that led to Point Pleasant.
Kate, leaning on her rifle, remained in a deep reverie, gazing absently upon their departing figures.
Winthrop found his horse exactly where he had left him. Passing the bridle over his arm, he walked by the side of Virginia toward the station.
“What a strange creature that girl is,” he said, as they walked onward.
“Yes; I have often heard of her, though I have never happened to meet her before. The settlers tell a great many stories about her. They say that she can ride better than any man on the border. That she knows every foot of the country for miles around, even to the Indian villages on the other side of the Ohio. Then, too, they say she is a splendid shot with the rifle, and can use the hunting-knife like a woodman.”
“We can vouch for her skill in marksmanship,” said Winthrop, and a half-shiver came over him when he thought of the huge bear, with its fierce eyes and shining teeth.
“Yes; poor girl, she is a niece of the renegade, Simon Girty, and that, I think, makes the settlers dislike her—as if she should answer for the misdeeds of her wicked uncle!” Virginia spoke with feeling; her face lighted up, and Winthrop thought that he had never looked upon a prettier maiden.