“I have been frightened for all that—but we are getting so accustomed to these Indians, that I am in constant expectation of their guns.”
“She was frightened enough when the first shot was fired the other day. She believed it was certainly all over with us,” said her father. “She ain’t so brave as you are trying to make out. I’ve no doubt she would run into the cabin, if we should be boarded by a half hundred of the red skins.”
“I’ve no doubt of it either,” returned Ruth, not detecting the quiet humor of her father, beneath the serious surface.
“Yes; she is a regular coward; I don’t know what we shall do with her in this western country. I almost wish we had left her at home.”
“I am sure you can’t wish it any more than I do,” rejoined the daughter, with some feeling. The father looked her quietly in the face a moment, and then with a pleasant smile drew her affectionately to his heart.
“No, my darling,” he said, as the tears came in his eyes. “I would not have left you behind for the world.”
Ruth covered her face, and for a few moments complete silence held reign. Joe Napyank considered the tableau quite interesting. Stoddard Smith was reflecting how truly he might appropriate the words just uttered by McGowan, and how decidedly agreeable it would be if he were her father for the time being.
In the meantime, the keen eye of the hunter was scrutinizing the Ohio and Kentucky shore in search of signs that it may be said were hardly ever invisible.
CHAPTER II.
NIGHT ON THE OHIO.—A VISITOR.—AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER.—PREMONITIONS OF DANGER.
The eagle eye of Napyank, the hunter, failed to detect anything suspicious. He knew that they were journeying through the most dangerous part of the great wilderness which at that day, stretched for hundreds of miles west of the Alleghanies. As he reflected upon the unanimity which his friends had enjoyed thus far, he could but wonder at the cause. There had others attempted this same project, and bitterly rued the day that the thought entered their heads.