he scene before the grim battle-scarred old fort was not
without its picturesqueness. The low vine-covered cabins on the hill
side looked more like picture houses than like real habitations of
men; the mill with its burned-out roof--a reminder of the
Indians--and its great wheel, now silent and still, might have been
from its lonely and dilapidated appearance a hundred years old.

On a little knoll carpeted with velvety grass sat Isaac and his
Indian bride. He had selected this vantage point because it afforded
a fine view of the green square where the races and the matches were
to take place. Admiring women stood around him and gazed at his
wife. They gossiped in whispers about her white skin, her little
hands, her beauty. The girls stared with wide open and wondering
eyes. The youngsters ran round and round the little group; they
pushed each other over, and rolled in the long grass, and screamed
with delight.

It was to be a gala occasion and every man, woman and child in the
settlement had assembled on the green. Col. Zane and Sam were
planting a post in the center of the square. It was to be used in
the shooting matches. Capt. Boggs and Major McColloch were arranging
the contestants in order. Jonathan Zane, Will Martin, Alfred
Clarke--all the young men were carefully charging and priming their
rifles. Betty was sitting on the black stallion which Col. Zane had
generously offered as first prize. She was in the gayest of moods
and had just coaxed Isaac to lift her on the tall horse, from which
height she purposed watching the sports. Wetzel alone did not seem
infected by the spirit of gladsomeness which pervaded. He stood
apart leaning on his long rifle and taking no interest in the
proceedings behind him. He was absorbed in contemplating the forest
on the opposite shore of the river.

"Well, boys, I guess we are ready for the fun," called Col. Zane,
cheerily. "Only one shot apiece, mind you, except in case of a tie.
Now, everybody shoot his best."

The first contest was a shooting match known as "driving the nail."
It was as the name indicated, nothing less than shooting at the head
of a nail. In the absence of a nail--for nails were scarce--one was
usually fashioned from a knife blade, or an old file, or even a
piece of silver. The nail was driven lightly into the stake, the
contestants shot at it from a distance as great as the eyesight
permitted. To drive the nail hard and fast into the wood at one
hundred y