“They were sad affairs, indeed; and the numbers of white men murdered made them still more shocking.”

“The murdering,” said the gallant Colonel Bruce, “is nothing, sir:  it is the shame of the thumping that makes one feel vicious; thar’s the thing no Kentuckian can stand, sir.  To be murdered, whar thar’s ten Injuns to one white man, is nothing; but whar it comes to being trounced by equal numbers, why thar’s the thing not to be tolerated.  Howsomever, Captain, we’re no worse off in Kentucky than our neighbours.  Thar’s them five hundred Pennsylvanians that went out in June, under old Cunnel Crawford from Pittsburg, agin the brutes of Sandusky, war more ridiculously whipped by old Captain Pipe, the Delaware, thar’s no denying.”

“What!” said Roland, “was Crawford’s company beaten?”

“Beaten!” said the Kentuckian, opening his eyes; “cut off the b, and say the savages made a dinner of ’em, and you’ll be nearer the true history of the matter.  It’s but two months ago; and so I suppose the news of the affa’r hadn’t got into East Virginnie when you started.  Well, Captain, the long and short of it is,—­the cunnel war beaten and exterminated, and that on a hard run from the fight he had hunted hard after.  How many ever got back safe agin to Pittsburg, I never could rightly h’ar, but what I know is, that thar war dozens of prisoners beaten to death by the squaws and children, and that old Cunnel Crawford himself war put to the double torture and roasted alive; and, I reckon, if he war’nt eaten, it war only because he war too old to be tender.”

“Horrible!” said the young soldier, muttering half to himself, though not in tones so low but that the Kentuckian caught their import; “and I must expose my poor Edith to fall into the power of such fiends and monsters!”

“Ay, Captain,” said Bruce, “thar’s the thing that sticks most in the heart of them that live in the wilderness and have wives and daughters;—­to think of their falling into the hands of the brutes, who murder and scalp a woman just as readily as a man.  As to their torturing them, that’s not so certain, but the brutes arn’t a bit too good for it; and I did h’ar of their burning one poor woman at Sandusky.  But now, Captain, if you are anxious to have the young lady, your sister, in safety, h’yar’s the place to stick up your tent-poles, h’yar, in this very settlement, whar the Injuns never trouble us, never coming within ten miles of us.  Thar’s as good land here as on Bear’s Grass; and we shall be glad of your company.  It is not often we have a rich man to take luck among us.  Howsomever, I won’t deceive you, if you will go to the Ohio; I hold, thar’s no danger on the trace for either man or woman.”

“My good friend,” said Roland, “you seem to labour under two errors in respect to me which it is fitting I should correct.  In the first place, the lady whom you have several times called, I know not why, my sister, claims no such near relationship, being only my cousin.”