The Daughter of the Chieftain : the Story of an Indian Girl, Ellis [great book club books .TXT] 📗

No one could have looked into the face of Ben Ripley without seeing he meant just what he said.

Jabez Zitner supposed, when he made known that he intended to take the little Delaware girl with him as a hostage, that though it might be displeasing to the Ripleys, they would not dare object; but he was mistaken.

The lad was sitting furthest away on the fallen tree, with his rifle resting across his knees, when he warned the man that if he laid a hand on Linna he would shoot him.

Ben spoke low, but mingling with his words were two faint clicking sounds. They were made by the hammer of his rifle, as with his thumb he drew it back ready for use. His face was slightly pale, but his eyes glittered, and he rose to his feet and looked at the startled man.

Mrs. Ripley gave a gasp of fright and clasped her hands, while the children mutely stared.

Even Zitner was silent. He knew Ben's pluck, but did not believe it would take him thus far, for it looked as if there were two adults against a single boy.

Burwink however, was more of a man than his companion. He looked smilingly at Ben and said—"Jabez, I reckon this has gone far enough."

"What do you mean?'" angrily asked the other.

"You must leave the little gal alone."

"Oh, thank you! thank you!" exclaimed Mrs. Ripley. "I might have known you would see that right is done."

Zitner had a few sharp words with his friend, but the latter was immovable. He would not listen to his proposition, and that ended the matter.

"Well," finally said Zitner, rising to his feet, "I intended to see you folks safe to the Delaware; but I won't have anything to do with you now. Come, Horace."

He strode off without another word or looking to the right or left. Burwink waited a minute, and then, with a quizzical look at Mrs. Ripley and her son asked—

"Do you think you can stand it?"

"We shall have to," replied Ben.

"Well, goodbye, and good luck to you;" and he followed his friend among the trees.

"That was a luckier ending than I expected," remarked Ben, letting down the hammer of his rifle.

"If Mr. Burwink had sided with him, there would have been no help for it," said his mother.

"Such people are always cowards. I wasn't afraid of him."

Now that they had departed, Linna came over to her champion—though she could not have fully understood all that had passed—and placed her hand confidingly on his shoulder.

"Linna, I have two sisters," he said tenderly; "yonder is one, and her name is Alice: can you tell me the name of the other?"

"Yes—she name be Linna."

"You are right. Now, if you will kiss me, I won't tickle you any more for making my nose itch this morning."

The lips were put up to his, and with deep affection on the part of both, the salute was exchanged.

"If any more white people show themselves, and they ask you your father's name, let mother and me answer for you."

"Me do what you say," was the obedient response.

It need not be said that our friends were greatly relieved by the departure of Zitner. While as I have already said, they ought to have been glad of the company of him and Burwink, they would have been ill at ease so long as the surly fellow was with them. He surely held no good will toward the little girl, and would have found some chance to show it.

"But are we really rid of him?" asked Ben of his mother. The two sat close to each other on the tree, and the children were playing a few steps away.

"I am quite sure we are."

"He may steal back tonight, if we camp near."

"Why should he? He does not want to harm Linna, but to use her as a means of safety against her own people."

"That was what he said, but I don't believe him. It seems to me we ought to change our course, to be certain of not meeting him again."

"As you think best."

"We have had a good rest. Come, girls, we must be off." Taking the lead as before, Ben strode down the incline, bearing more to the left than he had been doing.

All smiled at Linna, for she noticed the change on the instant.

"You go wrong," she said; "dat not right way."

"Which is the right way, Miss Smartness?"

She pointed it out.

"You are right, but that is the course of that bad man, who doesn't like you. We will go around, so as not to see him again."

She was satisfied, and gave her attention to Alice, who thought it odd that she and Ben should have so many disputes.

Over the varying surface, turning aside now and then to pass some obstacle in the shape of rocks or ravines—now up hill and down, among the dense trees, where the briars and bushes scratched their hands and faces, across small rippling streams and natural clearings—they pushed on until the sun was far beyond meridian and the halt and rest were grateful.

"I don't think we need give any more thought to Zitner," said Ben; "and I am sure we are all glad. He could not find us now, if he tried."

"If they kept to their course, we must be several miles apart."

"I have been working my way back, so that, after all, I do not think we have lost much ground. I hope Miss Linna is satisfied."

"She would make complaint if she was not."