"Grey, Zane - Betty Zane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grey Zane)

silver-leaf as it glinted in the sun. To-day, especially, as she walked
through the woods, did their beauty appeal to her. In the little sunny patches
of clearing which were scattered here and there in the grove, great clusters
of goldenrod grew profusely. The golden heads swayed gracefully on the long
stems Betty gathered a few sprigs and added to them a bunch of warmly tinted
maple leaves.

The chestnuts burrs were opening. As Betty mounted a little rocky eminence and
reached out for a limb of a chestnut tree, she lost her footing and fell. Her
right foot had twisted under her as she went down, and when a sharp pain shot
through it she was unable to repress a cry. She got up, tenderly placed the
foot on the ground and tried her weight on it, which caused acute pain. She
unlaced and removed her moccasin to find that her ankle had commenced to
swell. Assured that she had sprained it, and aware of the serious consequences
of an injury of that nature, she felt greatly distressed. Another effort to
place her foot on the ground and bear her weight on it caused such severe pain
that she was compelled to give up the attempt. Sinking down by the trunk of
the tree and leaning her head against it she tried to think of a way out of
her difficulty.

The fort, which she could plainly see, seemed a long distance off, although it
was only a little way down the grassy slope. She looked and looked, but not a
person was to be seen. She called to Tige. She remembered that he had been
chasing a squirrel a short while ago, but now there was no sign of him. He did
not come at her call. How annoying! If Tige were only there she could have
sent him for help. She shouted several times, but the distance was too great
for her voice to carry to the fort. The mocking echo of her call came back
from the bluff that rose to her left. Betty now began to be alarmed in
earnest, and the tears started to roll down her cheeks. The throbbing pain in
her ankle, the dread of having to remain out in that lonesome forest after
dark, and the fear that she might not be found for hours, caused Betty's
usually brave spirit to falter; she was weeping unreservedly.

In reality she had been there only a few minutes--although they seemed hours
to her--when she heard the light tread of moccasined feet on the moss behind
her. Starting up with a cry of joy she turned and looked up into the
astonished face of Alfred Clarke.

Returning from a hunt back in the woods he had walked up to her before being
aware of her presence. In a single glance he saw the wildflowers scattered
beside her, the little moccasin turned inside out, the woebegone, tearstained
face, and he knew Betty had come to grief.

Confused and vexed, Betty sank back at the foot of the tree. It is probable
she would have encountered Girty or a member of his band of redmen, rather
than have this young man find her in this predicament. It provoked her to
think that of all the people at the fort it should be the only one she could
not welcome who should find her in such a sad plight.

"Why, Miss Zane!" he exclaimed, after a moment of hesitation. "What in the