e
recognized the surroundings and made a heroic effort to control himself.
When we swung into the clearing there was nothing in his appearance to
denote the terrible experience he had passed through.

Now that we were back I was beset by a fear, that the sight of Patricia in
all her loveliness would be an overwhelming shock to his poor brain. It
was with great relief that I got him to the Moulton cabin without his
glimpsing Patsy.

"You can tell 'em if you want to. S'pose they'll l'arn it some time," he
said to me as we reached the door and met Mrs. Moulton and her little
girl. With that he passed inside and seated himself in a corner and bowed
his head.

I drew Mrs. Moulton aside and briefly explained his great sorrow. With
rich sympathy she stole into the cabin and began mothering him, patting
his shoulders and stroking the long hair back from his wan face.

My own affairs became of small importance when measured beside this
tragedy. I had no trepidation now in facing Patricia. I walked boldly to
the Davis cabin and thrust my head in the door. Only Davis and his wife
were there.

"Where are the Dales?" I bruskly asked.

"Gone," grunted Davis in disgust.

"Gone back home?" I eagerly asked.

"What do you think!" babbled Mrs. Davis. "Cousin Ericus has took that gal
down toward the Clinch. He 'lows now he's goin' to keep the Injuns out of
that valley--"

"Good God! Why did you let them go?"

Davis snorted angrily, and exclaimed:

"Let 'em go! How ye goin' to stop her? 'Twas she that was bound to be
movin' on. Just made her daddy go."

"When did they start?"

"Right after you lit out. Seems 's if th' gal couldn't git shut o' this
creek quick 'nough."

I ran from the cabin to get my horse and start in immediate pursuit. By
the time I reached the animal, well rested during my absence, I became
more reasonable. After all Black Hoof was traveling north. There would be
small chance of another band raiding down the Clinch for some time at
least. I needed rest. Night travel would advance me but slowly. I would
start early in the morning.

CHAPTER VIII

IN ABB'S VALLEY

Orioles and mocking-birds sang in the openings, and startled deer fled
before our advance as Shelby Cousin and I rode for the Clinch. The heat of
July was tempered by a breeze out of the north, and the heavens were
filled with hurrying white argosies. So it had ever been since the white
man came to these pleasant ridges and rich bott