with the red men gave him at once the facilities for
introducing his friend to their notice, which he did with a flourish and
eulogium. Things went on smoothly enough while Durant was learning the
language, customs, manners and habits of his new allies. He had as much as
he could do to convince them of his bravery and undaunted courage, which
qualities, believing he was deficient in them, they as often as possible
put to the test. In many of these adventures he barely came off with credit
whole, a thing he found absolutely necessary to maintain any kind of credit
with this singular people, and, for this purpose, he called into action
every particle of courage from every crack and crevice of his system, and
brought the whole to bear upon one point, the wavering of his own heart,
and, with it, the staying of his almost quaking limbs, and
ready-to-run-away feet. He had just "_quantum sufficit_" for this purpose,
and _none to spare_.

These achievements occupied about two years in their accomplishment, at the
end of which period, Durant, having established himself pretty fairly in
the good graces of his red brethren, felt as though the time had arrived
for him to put in execution his long intended project; for, be it known,
his desire for vengeance had neither slumbered nor died during the two
years, but was the grand moving impulse to every important act. These
years, so full of restrained wrath on his part, were years of peace to his
intended victim. Ellen Walton, save the fear of Indians, and the usual
trials incident to pioneer life, had spent her time in hopeful quiet, full
of love's anticipated bliss in the bright _future_.

Almost had she forgotten Durant and his threats. Pity she should ever be
awakened from her blissful dreams to dread reality.

Very early in the spring of 1787, and not quite two years since her
father's settlement in the country, on a very pleasant day, she ventured to
walk out a short distance into the forest, which adjoined their dwelling.
Becoming interested in her own musings, she sat down on the trunk of a
fallen tree, to give free vent and wide range to her thoughts. The reader
can, doubtless, imagine as well as we, the rainbow hues of her straying
fancy, as it reveled in the rosy bowers of love.

"Miss Walton, I believe I have the honor of addressing."

[Illustration: "Looking up, she saw a tall, dark man standing before her,
his eye bent upon hers with a look that sent the blood to her