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The Spirit of the Border

Chapter 30.
It was late afternoon at Fort Henry. The ruddy sun had already sunk behind the wooded
hill, and the long shadows of the trees lengthened on the green square in front of the fort.
Colonel Zane stood in his doorway watching the river with eager eyes. A few minutes
before a man had appeared on the bank of the island and hailed. The colonel had sent his
brother Jonathan to learn what was wanted. The latter had already reached the other shore
in his flatboat, and presently the little boat put out again with the stranger seated at the
stern.
"I thought, perhaps, it might be Wetzel," mused the colonel, "though I never knew of
Lew's wanting a boat."
Jonathan brought the man across the river, and up the winding path to where Colonel
Zane was waiting.
"Hello! It's young Christy!" exclaimed the colonel, jumping off the steps, and cordially
extending his hand. "Glad to see you! Where's Williamson. How did you happen over
here?"
"Captain Williamson and his men will make the river eight or ten miles above," answered
Christy. "I came across to inquire about the young people who left the Village of Peace.
Was glad to learn from Jonathan they got out all right."
"Yes, indeed, we're all glad. Come and sit down. Of course you'll stay over night. You
look tired and worn. Well, no wonder, when you saw that Moravian massacre. You must
tell me about it. I saw Sam Brady yesterday, and he spoke of seeing you over there. Sam
told me a good deal. Ah! here's Jim now."
The young missionary came out of the open door, and the two young men greeted each
other warmly.
"How is she?" asked Christy, when the first greetings had been exchanged.
"Nell's just beginning to get over the shock. She'll be glad to see you."
"Jonathan tells me you got married just before Girty came up with you at Beautiful
Spring."
"Yes; it is true. In fact, the whole wonderful story is true, yet I cannot believe as yet. You
look thin and haggard. When we last met you were well."
"That awful time pulled me down. I was an unwilling spectator of all that horrible
massacre, and shall never get over it. I can still see the fiendish savages running about
 
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