With a glad cry she sprang into his outstretched arms, and hid her blushing face upon his shoulder. For a full minute he strained her to his breast, and neither spoke. When at last she raised her face it was wet with tears; and a catch was in her voice as she said: “And you are going, Ross?” “I must go, darling,” he replied softly. “Why must you go and leave me here alone?” she cried. “Why must you run into danger, Ross? Stay here with me—please do! You may never come back.” “There—there, little one!” he whispered soothingly. “Of course, I shall come back. Then we’ll be married; and I’ll settle down on my piece of land and never leave you again.” “But you may—may get—killed,” she sobbed. “I must take my chances along with others, Amy,” he answered firmly. “I feel that it’s my duty to go.” “I—I can’t understand——” she began. “It’s like this,” he interrupted as he seated her upon a mossy log and placed his arm around her waist. “Seventeen years ago—when you were a baby—General Wayne made a treaty with the Indian tribes at Greenville. That treaty has protected the border-settlements until now. The savages have kept to themselves and left the white settlers unmolested. And the vanguard of civilization has moved rapidly and steadily toward the setting sun. But now all is changed. The British are again encouraging the Indians to take up arms against the Americans. Tecumseh and his brother, the Prophet, are doing all in their power to form an Indian confederacy that will be able to drive the Americans from the Ohio and Mississippi valleys. Tecumseh is brave and ambitious; the Prophet, cruel and cunning. Already they have aroused the redmen to a pitch of frenzy that threatens the safety of every border-settlement—including this. General Harrison is forming an army at Vincennes, to march against the allied tribes. I know the woods—am acquainted with the Indian mode of warfare. I can render service to my country—my people. I must go, Amy.” She had dried her tears. Now she kissed him and said coaxingly: “Please—_please_ don’t go! Stay here and—and—marry me—_now_.” “You little siren—you little traitor!” he laughed, playfully patting her cheek. “With your enchantment you would win me from the path of duty. You tempt me sorely—but it may not be. Duty calls——” “Oh, duty—duty!” she cried, impatiently stamping her small foot and pouting her red lips. “Do you care more for _duty_ than you do for _me_?” “That’s not fair, Amy,” he said gravely. “You know that I love you dearly—better than I love anyone else in the wide world. You should be a brave little woman and help me to do the right. Besides, if I should play the poltroon and stay here, you yourself would despise me for a miserable coward—a mean wretch unworthy of a good woman’s love and respect.” He stopped to note the effect of his words. She hung her head and blushed deeply. But whether with shame or anger he could not tell. He waited for her to speak; but she said nothing. He continued: