e was impatient because of the delay.

"Mr. Wells, is it not possible that you underrate the danger of your
enterprise?"

"I fear naught but the Lord," answered the old man.

"Do you not fear for those with you?" went on the colonel earnestly.
"I am heart and soul with you in your work, but want to impress upon
you that the time is not propitious. It is a long journey to the
village, and the way is beset with dangers of which you have no
idea. Will you not remain here with me for a few weeks, or, at
least, until my scouts report?"

"I thank you; but go I will."

"Then let me entreat you to remain here a few days, so that I may
send my brother Jonathan and Wetzel with you. If any can guide you
safely to the Village of Peace it will be they."

At this moment Joe saw two men approaching from the fort, and
recognized one of them as Wetzel. He doubted not that the other was
Lord Dunmore's famous guide and hunter, Jonathan Zane. In features
he resembled the colonel, and was as tall as Wetzel, although not so
muscular or wide of chest.

Joe felt the same thrill he had experienced while watching the
frontiersmen at Fort Pitt. Wetzel and Jonathan spoke a word to
Colonel Zane and then stepped aside. The hunters stood lithe and
erect, with the easy, graceful poise of Indians.

"We'll take two canoes, day after to-morrow," said Jonathan,
decisively, to Colonel Zane. "Have you a rifle for Wetzel? The
Delawares got his."

Colonel Zane pondered over the question; rifles were not scarce at
the fort, but a weapon that Wetzel would use was hard to find.

"The hunter may have my rifle," said the old missionary. "I have no
use for a weapon with which to destroy God's creatures. My brother
was a frontiersman; he left this rifle to me. I remember hearing him
say once that if a man knew exactly the weight of lead and powder
needed, it would shoot absolutely true."

He went into the cabin, and presently came out with a long object
wrapped in linsey cloths. Unwinding the coverings, he brought to
view a rifle, the proportions of which caused Jonathan's eyes to
glisten, and brought an exclamation from Colonel Zane. Wetzel
balanced the gun in his hands. It was fully six feet long; the
barrel was large, and the dark steel finely polished; the stock was
black walnut, ornamented with silver trimmings. Using Jonathan's
powder-flask and bullet-pouch, Wetzel proceeded to load the weapon.
He poured out a quantity of powder into the palm of