Wetzel, seeing that he was no longer pursued, slackened his pace and proceeded thoughtfully toward the settlement.
That same day, several hours after Wetzel’s departure in quest of the turkey, Alfred Clarke strolled over from the fort and found Colonel Zane in the yard. The Colonel was industriously stirring the contents of a huge copper kettle which swung over a brisk wood fire. The honeyed fragrance of apple butter mingled with the pungent odor of burning hickory.
“Morning, Alfred, you see they have me at it,” was the Colonel’s salute.
“So I observe,” answered Alfred, as he seated himself on the woodpile. “What is it you are churning so vigorously?”
“Apple butter, my boy, apple butter. I don’t allow even Bessie to help when I am making apple butter.”
“Colonel Zane, I have come over to ask a favor. Ever since you notified us that you intended sending an expedition up the river I have been worried about my horse Roger. He is too light for a pack horse, and I cannot take two horses.”
“I’ll let you have the bay. He is big and strong enough. That black horse of yours is a beauty. You leave Roger with me and if you never come back I’ll be in a fine horse. Ha! Ha! But, seriously, Clarke, this proposed trip is a hazardous undertaking, and if you would rather stay—”
“You misunderstand me,” quickly replied Alfred, who had flushed. “I do not care about myself. I’ll go and take my medicine. But I do mind about my horse.”
“That’s right. Always think of your horses. I’ll have Sam take the best of care of Roger.”
“What is the nature of this excursion, and how long shall we be gone?”
“Jonathan will guide the party. He says it will take six weeks if you have pleasant weather. You are to go by way of Short Creek, where you will help put up a blockhouse. Then you go to Fort Pitt. There you will embark on a raft with the supplies I need and make the return journey by water. You will probably smell gunpowder before you get back.”
“What shall we do with the horses?”
“Bring them along with you on the raft, of course.”
“That is a new way to travel with horses,” said Alfred, looking dubiously at the swift river. “Will there be any way to get news from Fort Henry while we are away?”
“Yes, there will be several runners.”
“Mr. Clarke, I am going to feed my pets. Would you like to see them?” asked a voice which brought Alfred to his feet. He turned and saw Betty. Her dog followed her, carrying a basket.
“I shall be delighted,” answered Alfred. “Have you more pets than Tige and Madcap?”
“Oh, yes, indeed. I have a bear, six squirrels, one of them white, and some pigeons.”
Betty led the way to an enclosure adjoining Colonel Zane’s barn. It was about twenty feet square, made of pine saplings which had been split and driven firmly into the ground. As Betty took down a bar and opened the small gate a number of white pigeons fluttered down from the roof of the barn, several of them alighting on her shoulders. A half-grown black bear came out of a kennel and shuffled toward her. He was unmistakably glad to see her, but he avoided going near Tige, and looked doubtfully at the young man. But after Alfred had stroked his head and had spoken to him he seemed disposed to be friendly, for he sniffed around Alfred’s knees and then stood up and put his paws against the young man’s shoulders.
“Here, Caesar, get down,” said Betty. “He always wants to wrestle, especially with anyone of whom he is not suspicious. He is very tame and will do almost anything. Indeed, you would marvel at his intelligence. He never forgets an injury. If anyone plays a trick on him you may be sure that person will not get a second opportunity. The night we caught him Tige chased him up a tree and Jonathan climbed the tree and lassoed him. Ever since he has evinced a hatred of Jonathan, and if I should leave Tige alone with him there would be a terrible fight. But for that I could allow Caesar to run free about the yard.”
“He looks bright and sagacious,” remarked Alfred.
“He is, but sometimes he gets into mischief. I nearly died laughing one day. Bessie, my brother’s wife, you know, had the big kettle on the fire, just as you saw it a moment ago, only this time she was boiling down maple syrup. Tige was out with some of the men and I let Caesar loose awhile. If there is anything he loves it is maple sugar, so when he smelled the syrup he pulled down the kettle and the hot syrup went all over his nose. Oh, his howls were dreadful to hear. The funniest part about it was he seemed to think it was intentional, for he remained sulky and cross with me for two weeks.”
“I can understand your love for animals,” said Alfred. “I think there are many interesting things about wild creatures. There are comparatively few animals down in Virginia where I used to live, and my opportunities to study them have been limited.”
“Here are my squirrels,” said Betty, unfastening the door of a cage. A number of squirrels ran out. Several jumped to the ground. One perched on top of the box. Another sprang on Betty’s shoulder. “I fasten them up every night, for I’m afraid the weasels and foxes will get them. The white squirrel is the only albino we have seen around here. It took Jonathan weeks to trap him, but once captured he soon grew tame. Is he not pretty?”
“He certainly is. I never saw one before; in fact, I did not know such a beautiful little animal existed,” answered Alfred, looking in admiration at the graceful creature, as he leaped from
