“But I wonder what makes her so happy just now—when terror sits in many a white girl’s heart. Ah! old Johnny did not warn them!”
He leaped the little rivulet by which he stood while speaking, and threaded the forest mazes again. Presently he came upon a neat clearing, in the center of which, surrounded by a rail-fence, stood a cabin, somewhat larger than his bachelor abode. An air of industry pervaded the spot, and the honeysuckles that half concealed the little square windows, proclaimed the presence of the softer—the flower-loving sex.
The song that had startled the trapper by the little creek, was mute now, and a dead silence brooded over the settler’s home, on which the moonlight softly fell.
Wolf-Cap leaned against a tree at the edge of the clearing, and thought of the coming whirlwind of destruction.
He thought till he gritted his teeth, and started forward, impulsively.
“Here’s the toil of months,” he cried. “Levi has labored like a giant to build a shelter for Huldah’s head, and now to think that the flames must, in one brief hour, destroy it all. Oh, I wish I could wield the thunderbolts of heaven for a single minute!”
He approached the cabin boldly, his giant form bathed in moonshine, and a low growl saluted his ears as he stepped upon the little porch before the door.
“Who’s there?” said a woman’s voice, beyond the heavy door.
“Me—Wolf-Cap,” answered the trapper, and he heard nimble fingers undoing the fastenings.
“Come in, neighbor Belt,” said a voice as the door flew open, and a beautiful young girl, whose right hand griped a rifle, appeared to the hunter.