"This West of ours
seems to suit you."
"It is my country now," she said, "and I do not care for any other."
"Since you will not let me carry the water you will at least let me walk
with you?" he said.
She did not reply, and he was startled by the sudden change that came
over her.
First a look of wonder showed on her face, then she turned white, every
particle of color leaving her cheeks. The master could not tell what her
expression meant, and he followed her eyes which were turned toward the
wilderness.
From the forest came a figure very strange to Silas Pennypacker, a
figure of barbaric splendor. It was a youth of great height and powerful
frame, his face so brown that it might belong to either the white or the
red race, but with fine clean features like those of a Greek god. He was
clad in deerskins, ornamented with little colored beads and fringes of
brilliant dyes. He carried a slender-barreled rifle over his shoulder,
and he came forward with swift, soundless steps.
The master recoiled in alarm at the strange and ominous figure, but as
the red flooded back into the girl's cheeks she put her hand upon his
arm.
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