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 bottom-lands; perfume, song, gracious valleys, and the lurking red evil. Cousin had regained his self-control overnight and outwardly appeared to be thoroughly composed. He talked but little, and then only when I took the lead. I refrained from mentioning the tragedy of yesterday and the sun was noon-high before he brought the matter up. "I couldn't kill that feller," he abruptly informed me. There was no preface to indicate whom he meant, but I knew and nodded sympathetically. "An' I'd ruther kill him than all the rest o' the Injuns 'tween here 'n' Detroit," he added after a long pause. "She will never come back to us?" I asked; for he had given no details of his interview with his sister.