bend of the river at the head of the island and from
bank to bank logs, driftwood, broken ice and giant floes were packed
and jammed so tightly as to resist the action of the mighty current.
This natural bridge would remain solid until spring had loosened the
frozen grip of old winter. The hills surrounding Fort Henry were
white with snow. The huge drifts were on a level with Col. Zane's
fence and in some places the top rail had disappeared. The pine
trees in the yard were weighted down and drooped helplessly with
their white burden.

On this frosty January morning the only signs of life round the
settlement were a man and a dog walking up Wheeling hill. The man
carried a rifle, an axe, and several steel traps. His snow-shoes
sank into the drifts as he labored up the steep hill. All at once he
stopped. The big black dog had put his nose high in the air and had
sniffed at the cold wind.

"Well, Tige, old fellow, what is it?" said Jonathan Zane, for this
was he.

The dog answered with a low whine. Jonathan looked up and down the
creek valley and along the hillside, but he saw no living thing.
Snow, snow everywhere, its white monotony relieved here and there by
a black tree trunk. Tige sniffed again and then growled. Turning his
ear to the breeze Jonathan heard faint yelps from far over the
hilltop. He dropped his axe and the traps and ran the remaining
short distance up the hill. When he reached the summit the clear
baying of hunting wolves was borne to his ears.

The hill sloped gradually on the other side, ending in a white,
unbroken plain which extended to the edge of the laurel thicket a
quarter of a mile distant. Jonathan could not see the wolves, but he
heard distinctly their peculiar, broken howls. They were in pursuit
of something, whether quadruped or man he could not decide. Another
moment and he was no longer in doubt, for a deer dashed out of the
thicket. Jonathan saw that it was a buck and that he was well nigh
exhausted; his head swung low from side to side; he sank slowly to
his knees, and showed every indication of distress.

The next instant the baying of the wolves, which had ceased for a
moment, sounded close at hand. The buck staggered to his feet; he
turned this way and that. When he saw the man and the dog he started
toward them without a moment's hesitation.

At a warning word from Jonathan the dog sank on the snow. Jonathan
stepped behind a tree, which, however, was not large enough to
sc