Sadly she looked upon the wounded man.
A footfall outside the cabin attracted her attention. Quickly she bounded to her feet and seized the rifle that hung over the rude fire-place. Then she stood still and listened.
“Who can it be that seeks the home of the outcast girl?” she murmured, as with eager ears, every sense on the alert, she listened.
“Can it be one of the settlers from Point Pleasant? No; but few of them know of my dwelling-place, and fewer still would care to seek it. Is it a red-skin? No; I would not have heard his footfall if he comes in malice.”
Then the girl heard the sound of footsteps approaching the house.
“Ah!” exclaimed the girl, suddenly, as a thought flashed through her mind; “perhaps it is his foes coming to seek him,” and her glance was on the wounded man as she spoke. “If so they had better have sought the den of the wolf, or the nest of the rattlesnake than my cabin. They must kill me before they shall harm him.”
Hardly had the speech come from her lips when a bold knock sounded on the door.
“Who is there?” cried Kate.
The door—a heavy one, braced strongly—was barred on the inside and was fully stout enough to defy the strength of a dozen men, let alone one.
“Open and you will see,” responded a hoarse voice.