ZANE GREY Ultimate Collection: Historical Novels, Western Classics, Adventure Tales & Baseball Stories (60+ Titles in One Volume) E-Book
Zane Grey
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- Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
The "ZANE GREY Ultimate Collection" presents an unparalleled compilation of over sixty works, showcasing the literary prowess of an iconic figure in American literature. This anthology encompasses a diverse range of genres, including historical novels, Western classics, adventure tales, and even baseball stories, thus reflecting Grey's versatility and rich storytelling craft. His vivid prose and immersive narrative style transport readers to the untamed landscapes of the American West, while also drawing them into the intricacies of human experience, morality, and exploration. Each piece is steeped in a deep understanding of the American spirit and the cultural contexts of their times, making this collection a quintessential resource for both casual readers and scholars alike. Zane Grey (1872-1939) was not only a prolific writer but also a passionate outdoorsman whose adventures in American wilderness informed much of his fiction. His experiences as a dentist, combined with his fascination for the rugged life of cowboys and the allure of historical narratives, deeply shaped his narrative voice. Grey's commitment to authenticity in his storytelling is evident throughout his works, and his life experiences uniquely position him to explore themes of adventure, love, conflict, and reconciliation within the American landscape. I highly recommend the "ZANE GREY Ultimate Collection" to readers who seek an expansive and profound understanding of early 20th-century American literature. This extensive anthology not only serves as an introduction to Grey's significant contributions but also provides an engaging journey through the complexities of American identity and adventure. In this collection, both long-time fans and new readers will find themselves captivated by the enduring spirit and storytelling genius of Zane Grey. In this enriched edition, we have carefully created added value for your reading experience: - A comprehensive Introduction outlines these selected works' unifying features, themes, or stylistic evolutions. - A Historical Context section situates the works in their broader era—social currents, cultural trends, and key events that underpin their creation. - A concise Synopsis (Selection) offers an accessible overview of the included texts, helping readers navigate plotlines and main ideas without revealing critical twists. - A unified Analysis examines recurring motifs and stylistic hallmarks across the collection, tying the stories together while spotlighting the different work's strengths. - Reflection questions inspire deeper contemplation of the author's overarching message, inviting readers to draw connections among different texts and relate them to modern contexts. - Lastly, our hand‐picked Memorable Quotes distill pivotal lines and turning points, serving as touchstones for the collection's central themes.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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ZANE GREY Ultimate Collection: Historical Novels, Western Classics, Adventure Tales & Baseball Stories (60+ Titles in One Volume)
Table of Contents
Introduction
This single-author omnibus assembles an expansive cross-section of Zane Grey’s work, bringing together more than sixty titles in one accessible volume. It surveys the breadth of his career, from early historical romances of the American frontier to the Western epics that cemented his reputation, alongside adventure narratives, youth-oriented tales, and sporting literature. By presenting these works side by side, the collection enables readers to trace the evolution of his craft, to see recurring concerns develop across decades, and to appreciate how his storytelling adapted to different settings and audiences while retaining a distinctive vision of character, place, and moral testing.
The contents encompass multiple literary forms united by a consistent narrative impulse. Readers will find full-length novels of the West and the early American frontier; story collections devoted to baseball; coming-of-age adventures centered on youth and the outdoors; and non-fiction accounts of exploration, hunting, and angling, including travel writing that records expeditions well beyond North America. The balance of imaginative fiction and firsthand narrative creates a dialogue between invented plots and lived experience, as field sketches, chronicles of wilderness travel, and sporting narratives complement the dramatic arcs of the novels and short story cycles.
Despite their variety, these works share unifying themes that remain recognizable and resonant. The Western and frontier narratives explore the tensions between law and lawlessness, solitude and community, wilderness and settlement—testing characters against harsh landscapes and even harsher moral choices. Courage, endurance, and codes of personal honor recur, as do portraits of resilience, redemption, and belonging. The sporting and travel narratives extend these concerns to rivers, coasts, and distant ranges, treating nature as both teacher and adversary. Across the corpus, the land functions as more than a setting: it shapes identity, demands ethical clarity, and frames the drama of human striving.
Stylistically, the collection exhibits hallmarks that made the author a defining voice of the popular Western: sweeping scene-setting, attentive description of deserts, canyons, forests, and high plains, and a cadence that alternates between contemplative stillness and sudden action. Dialogue tends toward directness and idiomatic force; conflict is staged with an eye for momentum and clarity. The outdoor and sporting narratives add technical precision—of trail craft, horsemanship, and angling—drawn from close observation in the field. The result is a body of work that fuses lyric evocation of place with narrative propulsion, pairing sensory detail with clear, purposeful storytelling.
As a whole, the volume demonstrates why these writings helped shape the modern image of the American West and broadened the reach of adventure and sporting literature. The Westerns influenced popular culture far beyond the printed page, while the travel and angling narratives introduced readers to environments, techniques, and far-flung locales with an immediacy that encouraged an appetite for the outdoors. The baseball stories capture the strategy and psychology of competition during a formative era for the sport. Together they chart how a widely read author connected mass audiences to landscapes, pursuits, and ideals that became central to twentieth-century American storytelling.
The arrangement highlights breadth as well as depth, inviting cross-reading among modes and periods. One can move from historical frontier romances to later desert sagas, then to youth adventures or ballpark dramas, and finally to narrative accounts of expeditions at sea or in canyon country. This range benefits general readers seeking immersion, enthusiasts rediscovering landmark works, and scholars interested in patterns of character, motif, and setting. The collection thus serves both as an introduction to recurring archetypes—rangers, riders, rustlers, and resilient pioneers—and as a laboratory for observing how different narrative forms refract the same core preoccupations.
Readers will also encounter the perspectives of the era in which these works were written. Social attitudes, portrayals of cultures, and representations of gender and race reflect their historical context and may differ from contemporary views. Approached with that awareness, the collection offers not only narrative pleasure and a powerful sense of place but also a record of evolving American myths and anxieties. Its enduring appeal lies in the force of its storytelling, the clarity of its moral stakes, and the palpable presence of landscape—qualities that connect the frontier imagination to broader questions of character, community, and the costs of belonging.
Historical Context
Zane Grey (1872–1939) wrote across the decades when Americans reimagined the frontier just as the 1890 Census declared it closed and Frederick Jackson Turner’s 1893 thesis cast the West as a crucible of national character. Following Owen Wister’s The Virginian (1902), Grey’s Riders of the Purple Sage (1912) popularized the modern Western in a mass market shaped by Harper & Brothers, pulp magazines, and Hollywood. Dozens of screen adaptations from 1918 through the 1930s broadcast his desert mesas and canyon strongholds to a national audience. His oeuvre, from Betty Zane (1903) to late 1930s range sagas, answered Progressive Era reform, rapid industrialization, and a culture negotiating modernity through mythic landscapes.
Grey’s literary origins lie in the Ohio Valley frontier of the late eighteenth century, where his own Zane kin settled. Betty Zane, The Spirit of the Border (1906), and The Last Trail (1909) revisit Wheeling, then in Virginia (now West Virginia), and the sieges of Fort Henry (1777, 1782). They trace the building of Zane’s Trace (authorized 1796–1797) into the Northwest Territory and the conflicts involving Shawnee and Delaware communities, backwoods scouts like Lewis Wetzel, and Revolutionary allegiances. These narratives bridge colonial warfare to later Western themes, linking frontier vigilance, kinship networks, and contested homelands to the moral codes and vigilante traditions Grey would transpose onto nineteenth‑century cattle and mining camps.
After traveling West in 1907 with C. J. “Buffalo” Jones, Grey embedded his fiction in Arizona and Utah. The Last of the Plainsmen (1908) and Roping Lions in the Grand Canyon record predator hunts and canyon descents when the Grand Canyon was proclaimed a national monument (1908) and later a national park (1919). Riders of the Purple Sage (1912) and The Rainbow Trail (1915) dramatize tensions around Mormon settlements and the 1890 Manifesto ending polygamy. His Southwestern canvases—Mogollon Rim, Tonto Basin, San Juan country—also engage Native history. The Vanishing American (1925) reflects debates over the Dawes Act (1887), Carlisle Indian Industrial School (1879), and the Indian Citizenship Act (1924), interrogating assimilationist policy amid reservation realities.
Grey’s trail epics chart the cattle and railroad ages that transformed the plains. The UP Trail (1918) evokes Union Pacific construction towns of the 1860s, from the graded cuts of Wyoming to hell‑on‑wheels camps that followed rails to Promontory Summit (1869). Thundering Herd portrays the 1870s buffalo slaughter that collapsed Plains ecologies by the early 1880s. Novels such as The Trail Driver, The Drift Fence, Hash Knife Outfit, Thirty Thousand on the Hoof, and The Code of the West traverse the Chisholm (1867–1884) and Goodnight‑Loving (from 1866) trails, the barbed‑wire revolution after Joseph Glidden’s 1874 patent, and the catastrophic winter of 1886–87, when open range ideals yielded to corporate ranching and fenced holdings.
The borderlands sagas capture law and insurgency from Texas to Sonora. The Lone Star Ranger, The Rustlers of Pecos County, West of the Pecos, Arizona Ames, and Robbers’ Roost map the evolution of the Texas Rangers (founded 1835; reorganized 1915; incorporated into the Department of Public Safety, 1935) and the informal “code” that governed outlaws, cattlemen, and sheriffs. The Light of Western Stars and Desert Gold register the Mexican Revolution (1910–1920), the 1916 raid by Pancho Villa at Columbus, New Mexico, and General John J. Pershing’s Punitive Expedition. During Prohibition (1920–1933), remote canyons and cross‑border trails in Grey’s fiction also mirror smuggling economies that complicated ranch, mining, and railroad order.
World War I and its aftermath shape Grey’s social canvases. The Desert of Wheat (1919) follows Pacific Northwest grain country during IWW activism (founded 1905) and wartime sabotage scares, while The Call of the Canyon (1924) sends a shell‑shocked veteran to Arizona’s red rock country in the health‑seeking migrations that also populated Southwestern sanitariums. The Day of the Beast (1922) studies postwar disillusion, moral panics, and the culture shift that would mark the Roaring Twenties. Works like The Man of the Forest and Wanderer of the Wasteland register timber speculation, boom‑and‑bust mining, and bootleg economies, contrasting industrial volatility with restorative, if contested, Western spaces.
Progressive conservation and a youth outdoor movement frame Grey’s nature writing and juvenile adventures. The U.S. Forest Service (1905, Gifford Pinchot), National Park Service (1916), Theodore Roosevelt’s conservation ethos, and the Boy Scouts of America (1910) inform The Young Forester, Ken Ward in the Jungle, The Young Lion Hunter, and Tales of Lonely Trails. Prospecting fables like Tappan’s Burro and backcountry novels such as Under the Tonto Rim, The Man of the Forest, Nevada, Forlorn River, and Wilderness Trek trace forestry, water rights, predator control, and grazing conflicts along Arizona’s Mogollon Rim and Nevada ranges. These landscapes—later immortalized on film—anchor Grey’s persistent argument for individual stewardship within emerging federal management regimes.
Grey’s sports narratives engage early twentieth‑century leisure and technology. A former University of Pennsylvania ballplayer (1890s), he set The Short Stop, The Young Pitcher, and The Redheaded Outfield against the Deadball Era’s small‑ball ethos, the rise of organized minor leagues, and later scandals like 1919’s Black Sox that propelled reforms and, with Babe Ruth, a new power game in the 1920s. His angling books—Tales of Fishes (1919), Tales of Fishing Virgin Seas (1925), Tales of the Angler’s Eldorado, New Zealand (1926), Tales of Swordfish and Tuna (1927), and An American Angler in Australia (1937)—chronicle big‑game expeditions via steamships and the Panama Canal (opened 1914), from Catalina’s Tuna Club (founded 1898) to the Bay of Islands and New South Wales.
Synopsis (Selection)
Betty Zane
Frontier romance and Revolutionary War adventure converge as a courageous young woman helps defend Fort Henry in the Ohio Valley while navigating loyalty and love.
The Spirit of the Border: A Romance of the Early Settlers in the Ohio Valley
Missionaries, scouts, and settlers clash with renegades and tribal forces along the early Ohio frontier, testing faith, endurance, and the fragile promise of settlement.
The Last of the Plainsmen
Part travelogue, part adventure, this chronicle follows a hunt with Buffalo Jones across a vanishing West, capturing wildlife lore, hardship, and the end of an era.
The Last Trail
The Zane family saga closes as veteran frontiersmen confront outlaws menacing new trails, balancing rough justice with the push toward order and community.
Baseball Novels and Stories (The Short Stop; The Young Pitcher; The Redheaded Outfield, and Other Baseball Stories)
Young athletes rise from humble beginnings to the diamond, confronting pressures of integrity, class, and competition in tales that celebrate teamwork and sportsmanship.
The Heritage of the Desert
An ailing Easterner finds new life among Mormon ranchers in Utah’s red rock country, where rustlers, rivalries, and a transformative love force decisive choices.
Ken Ward Adventures (The Young Forester; The Young Lion Hunter; Ken Ward in the Jungle)
A spirited youth learns conservation, fieldcraft, and courage—from battling timber thieves and tracking mountain lions in Arizona to braving perilous jungle expeditions.
Riders of the Purple Sage
A lone gunman aids a persecuted woman in Utah canyonlands, igniting a struggle against local tyranny that entangles hidden identities, outlawry, and forbidden sanctuaries.
Desert Gold
Treasure rumors and border turmoil draw soldiers, outlaws, and seekers to the Sonoran sands, where pursuit, revolt, and romance collide under brutal sun.
The Light of the Western Stars
An Eastern heiress buys a New Mexico ranch and is swept into border violence and intrigue, discovering unlikely allies and a hard-won love amid lawless country.
The Rustlers of Pecos County
Texas Rangers infiltrate a corrupt town to dismantle a rustling machine, risking exposure as duty, deception, and frontier justice converge.
The Lone Star Ranger: A Romance of the Border
An outlaw-turned-Ranger hunts desperadoes along the Rio Grande, seeking redemption while navigating the blurred line between lawman and gunfighter.
Rainbow Trail
A sequel to Riders of the Purple Sage, it follows a young seeker into Utah’s labyrinthine canyons in search of a hidden community and long-buried truths.
The Border Legion
To save her fiancé from a notorious gang, a determined woman ventures into outlaw strongholds, where shifting loyalties and peril test her resolve.
Wildfire
The saga of a legendary stallion entwines with a horse-wrangler and a beleaguered ranch, culminating in relentless chases and hard choices about freedom and survival.
The UP Trail
As the Union Pacific railroad surges west, workers, gamblers, and gunmen collide in boomtowns, with a romance forged against industrial might and frontier menace.
The Desert of Wheat
On a Washington wheat ranch during World War I, labor unrest, sabotage, and wartime passions threaten livelihoods and love in a tense home-front drama.
Angling Tales (Tales of Fishes; Tales of Fishing Virgin Seas; Tales of the Angler’s Eldorado, New Zealand; Tales of Swordfish and Tuna; An American Angler in Australia)
Big-game fishing memoirs span oceans and hemispheres, blending travel, technique, and close combat with marlin, tuna, and trout in waters from the Pacific to New Zealand and Australia.
The Man of the Forest
A reclusive woodsman becomes guardian to two sisters targeted by ruthless interests, mixing suspense, gunplay, and an awakening romance in rugged timber country.
The Mysterious Rider
A haunted drifter throws in with an embattled ranch family against a powerful cattleman, as buried crimes and hidden identities surface on the range.
To the Last Man
A star-crossed romance unfolds amid a deadly Arizona feud, where honor codes and vendettas steer families toward confrontation in Tonto Basin.
The Day of the Beast
A war-scarred veteran returns to a modernizing town and struggles against postwar excess and cynicism, seeking meaning and moral footing at home.
Hunting Memoirs (Tales of Lonely Trails; Roping Lions in the Grand Canyon)
First-person accounts of Western hunts and backcountry travel—from solitary camps to daring live captures—spotlight wildlife, hardship, and the lure of remote places.
Wanderer of the Wasteland
After a shattering transgression, a young man flees into the desert where survival, solitude, and chance encounters force a reckoning with identity and conscience.
Tappan’s Burro
A dogged prospector and his indefatigable burro press into trackless desert on a quest for gold, revealing endurance, companionship, and the magnetic pull of the West.
The Call of the Canyon
A war-weary man seeks healing in Arizona’s canyon country, finding purpose in ranch life and a complicated love that challenges old ties.
The Thundering Herd
Against the backdrop of the buffalo slaughter, hunters and traders grapple with greed, danger, and desire as the great herds vanish from the plains.
The Vanishing American
A Navajo leader and a white educator confront injustice and cultural upheaval on the reservation, depicting the human cost of forced assimilation.
Under the Tonto Rim
A young woman takes up social work among isolated Arizona mountaineers, discovering rough-hewn community, peril, and unexpected love.
Forlorn River
A desert rancher and his fugitive friend battle rustlers and a powerful cattle combine, while loyalty and romance are tested by mounting threats.
Nevada
Continuing Forlorn River, the reformed gunman known as Nevada strives for a straight path but is drawn back into conflict, risking love and hard-won peace.
The Shepherd of Guadaloupe
A traumatized veteran turns shepherd in the Southwest, finding solace and purpose as simmering range tensions force him to take a stand.
Sunset Pass
An honorable rider is pulled into an Arizona feud and a delicate romance, confronting rustlers, betrayals, and the limits of personal codes.
Arizona Ames
A famed gunman aiming for quiet is drawn into old grudges and a perilous rescue, where reputation and resolve are put to the test.
Robbers’ Roost
Outlaws hole up in a near-impregnable canyon, where undercover loyalties and a captive woman complicate plans and provoke a risky bid for freedom.
The Drift Fence
Building a massive range fence to check cattle movement ignites a war between ranchers and rustlers, with a young cowhand caught in the crossfire.
The Hash Knife Outfit
Amid the turbulent ranges of the notorious Hash Knife brand, a cowboy fights to clear his name and bring order to a lawless stretch of country.
The Code of the West
A cowhand’s honor is tested when ranch wars, ambition, and romance collide, forcing hard choices about loyalty and justice on the open range.
Thunder Mountain
A gold strike in Idaho’s wilderness draws prospectors and predators alike, turning a remote valley into a crucible of greed, courage, and survival.
The Trail Driver
A sweeping cattle-drive epic follows drovers north through storms, stampedes, and ambushes, forging bonds and reputations on the trail.
West of the Pecos
A hard-bitten gunman and an Eastern woman thrown together on the borderlands face ambush, masquerade, and the choice between vengeance and mercy.
Raiders of Spanish Peaks
A Colorado ranching clan confronts raiders and hidden motives amid rugged high country, where loyalties are tested in a fight for the range.
Knights of the Range
A determined stock association’s riders—‘knights’ of the open range—take on organized rustlers as romance and duty come into uneasy balance.
Thirty Thousand on the Hoof
A family’s decades-long push to build a cattle empire in Arizona chronicles migration, drought, and grit as the frontier hardens into homestead.
Twin Sombreros
A cowboy becomes entangled with twin heiresses and a besieged ranch, facing double danger and twin currents of romance.
Majesty’s Rancho
Returning to a beloved New Mexico ranch, a spirited heiress confronts rustlers and scandal while reviving old ties and testing new allegiances.
The Wilderness Trek
In the Australian outback, a grueling cattle drive across unforgiving distances becomes a test of endurance, mateship, and survival.
Valley of Wild Horses
A young rider stakes his future on capturing and taming a wild herd, while enemies and a tentative love complicate his bid for independence.
Lost Pueblo
An archaeological quest for a rumored cliff-dweller city in the Southwest ensnares seekers with outlaws, treachery, and desert hazards.
Black Mesa
Range intrigue and a sinister land grab unfold atop a high mesa, where a lone rider must untangle feuds and expose a hidden scheme.
Stranger from the Tonto
A mysterious rider from the Tonto Basin aids a threatened ranch, his shadowed past colliding with present loyalties and dangers.
The Fugitive Trail
Wrongly accused, a man flees across deserts and canyons to clear his name, evading lawmen and enemies while uncovering the truth.
Arizona Clan
A frontier family saga follows an Arizona clan through feuds, lawlessness, and the slow forging of stability on a harsh, changing range.
ZANE GREY Ultimate Collection: Historical Novels, Western Classics, Adventure Tales & Baseball Stories (60+ Titles in One Volume)
BETTY ZANE
Table of Contents
NOTE
In a quiet corner of the stately little city of Wheeling, West Va., stands a monument on which is inscribed:
"By authority of the State of West Virginia to commemorate the siege of Fort Henry, Sept 11, 1782, the last battle of the American Revolution, this tablet is here placed."
Had it not been for the heroism of a girl the foregoing inscription would never have been written, and the city of Wheeling would never have existed. From time to time I have read short stories and magazine articles which have been published about Elizabeth Zane and her famous exploit; but they are unreliable in some particulars, which is owing, no doubt, to the singularly meagre details available in histories of our western border.
For a hundred years the stories of Betty and Isaac Zane have been familiar, oft-repeated tales in my family—tales told with that pardonable ancestral pride which seems inherent in every one. My grandmother loved to cluster the children round her and tell them that when she was a little girl she had knelt at the feet of Betty Zane, and listened to the old lady as she told of her brother's capture by the Indian Princess, of the burning of the Fort, and of her own race for life. I knew these stories by heart when a child.
Two years ago my mother came to me with an old note book which had been discovered in some rubbish that had been placed in the yard to burn. The book had probably been hidden in an old picture frame for many years. It belonged to my great-grandfather, Col. Ebenezer Zane. From its faded and time-worn pages I have taken the main facts of my story. My regret is that a worthier pen than mine has not had this wealth of material.
In this busy progressive age there are no heroes of the kind so dear to all lovers of chivalry and romance. There are heroes, perhaps, but they are the patient sad-faced kind, of whom few take cognizance as they hurry onward. But cannot we all remember some one who suffered greatly, who accomplished great deeds, who died on the battlefield—some one around whose name lingers a halo of glory? Few of us are so unfortunate that we cannot look backward on kith or kin and thrill with love and reverence as we dream of an act of heroism or martyrdom which rings down the annals of time like the melody of the huntsman's horn, as it peals out on a frosty October morn purer and sweeter with each succeeding note.
If to any of those who have such remembrances, as well as those who have not, my story gives an hour of pleasure I shall be rewarded.
PROLOGUE
On June 16, 1716, Alexander Spotswood, Governor of the Colony of Virginia, and a gallant soldier who had served under Marlborough in the English wars, rode, at the head of a dauntless band of cavaliers, down the quiet street of quaint old Williamsburg.
The adventurous spirits of this party of men urged them toward the land of the setting sun, that unknown west far beyond the blue crested mountains rising so grandly before them.
Months afterward they stood on the western range of the Great North mountains towering above the picturesque Shenandoah Valley, and from the summit of one of the loftiest peaks, where, until then, the foot of a white man had never trod, they viewed the vast expanse of plain and forest with glistening eyes. Returning to Williamsburg they told of the wonderful richness of the newly discovered country and thus opened the way for the venturesome pioneer who was destined to overcome all difficulties and make a home in the western world.
But fifty years and more passed before a white man penetrated far beyond the purple spires of those majestic mountains.
One bright morning in June, 1769, the figure of a stalwart, broad shouldered man could have been seen standing on the wild and rugged promontory which rears its rocky bluff high above the Ohio river, at a point near the mouth of Wheeling Creek. He was alone save for the companionship of a deerhound that crouched at his feet. As he leaned on a long rifle, contemplating the glorious scene that stretched before him, a smile flashed across his bronzed cheek, and his heart bounded as he forecast the future of that spot. In the river below him lay an island so round and green that it resembled a huge lily pad floating placidly on the water. The fresh green foliage of the trees sparkled with glittering dewdrops. Back of him rose the high ridges, and, in front, as far as eye could reach, extended an unbroken forest.
Beneath him to the left and across a deep ravine he saw a wide level clearing. The few scattered and blackened tree stumps showed the ravages made by a forest fire in the years gone by. The field was now overgrown with hazel and laurel bushes, and intermingling with them were the trailing arbutus, the honeysuckle, and the wild rose. A fragrant perfume was wafted upward to him. A rushing creek bordered one edge of the clearing. After a long quiet reach of water, which could be seen winding back in the hills, the stream tumbled madly over a rocky ledge, and white with foam, it hurried onward as if impatient of long restraint, and lost its individuality in the broad Ohio.
This solitary hunter was Colonel Ebenezer Zane. He was one of those daring men, who, as the tide of emigration started westward, had left his friends and family and had struck out alone into the wilderness. Departing from his home in Eastern Virginia he had plunged into the woods, and after many days of hunting and exploring, he reached the then far Western Ohio valley.
The scene so impressed Colonel Zane that he concluded to found a settlement there. Taking "tomahawk possession" of the locality (which consisted of blazing a few trees with his tomahawk), he built himself a rude shack and remained that summer on the Ohio.
In the autumn he set out for Berkeley County, Virginia, to tell his people of the magnificent country he had discovered. The following spring he persuaded a number of settlers, of a like spirit with himself, to accompany him to the wilderness. Believing it unsafe to take their families with them at once, they left them at Red Stone on the Monongahela river, while the men, including Colonel Zane, his brothers Silas, Andrew, Jonathan and Isaac, the Wetzels, McCollochs, Bennets, Metzars and others, pushed on ahead.
The country through which they passed was one tangled, most impenetrable forest; the axe of the pioneer had never sounded in this region, where every rod of the way might harbor some unknown danger.
These reckless bordermen knew not the meaning of fear; to all, daring adventure was welcome, and the screech of a redskin and the ping of a bullet were familiar sounds; to the Wetzels, McCollochs and Jonathan Zane the hunting of Indians was the most thrilling passion of their lives; indeed, the Wetzels, particularly, knew no other occupation. They had attained a wonderful skill with the rifle; long practice had rendered their senses as acute as those of the fox. Skilled in every variety of woodcraft, with lynx eyes ever on the alert for detecting a trail, or the curling smoke of some camp fire, or the minutest sign of an enemy, these men stole onward through the forest with the cautious but dogged and persistent determination that was characteristic of the settler.
They at length climbed the commanding bluff overlooking the majestic river, and as they gazed out on the undulating and uninterrupted area of green, their hearts beat high with hope.
The keen axe, wielded by strong arms, soon opened the clearing and reared stout log cabins on the river bluff. Then Ebenezer Zane and his followers moved their families and soon the settlement began to grow and flourish. As the little village commenced to prosper the redmen became troublesome. Settlers were shot while plowing the fields or gathering the harvests. Bands of hostile Indians prowled around and made it dangerous for anyone to leave the clearing. Frequently the first person to appear in the early morning would be shot at by an Indian concealed in the woods.
General George Rodgers Clark, commandant of the Western Military Department, arrived at the village in 1774. As an attack from the savages was apprehended during the year the settlers determined to erect a fort as a defense for the infant settlement. It was planned by General Clark and built by the people themselves. At first they called it Fort Fincastle, in honor of Lord Dunmore, who, at the time of its erection, was Governor of the Colony of Virginia. In 1776 its name was changed to Fort Henry, in honor of Patrick Henry.
For many years it remained the most famous fort on the frontier, having withstood numberless Indian attacks and two memorable sieges, one in 1777, which year is called the year of the "Bloody Sevens," and again in 1782. In this last siege the British Rangers under Hamilton took part with the Indians, making the attack practically the last battle of the Revolution.
CHAPTER I.
The Zane family was a remarkable one in early days, and most of its members are historical characters.
The first Zane of whom any trace can be found was a Dane of aristocratic lineage, who was exiled from his country and came to America with William Penn. He was prominent for several years in the new settlement founded by Penn, and Zane street, Philadelphia, bears his name. Being a proud and arrogant man, he soon became obnoxious to his Quaker brethren. He therefore cut loose from them and emigrated to Virginia, settling on the Potomac river, in what was then known as Berkeley county. There his five sons, and one daughter, the heroine of this story, were born.
Ebenezer Zane, the eldest, was born October 7, 1747, and grew to manhood in the Potomac valley. There he married Elizabeth McColloch, a sister of the famous McColloch brothers so well known in frontier history.
Ebenezer was fortunate in having such a wife and no pioneer could have been better blessed. She was not only a handsome woman, but one of remarkable force of character as well as kindness of heart. She was particularly noted for a rare skill in the treatment of illness, and her deftness in handling the surgeon's knife and extracting a poisoned bullet or arrow from a wound had restored to health many a settler when all had despaired.
The Zane brothers were best known on the border for their athletic prowess, and for their knowledge of Indian warfare and cunning. They were all powerful men, exceedingly active and as fleet as deer. In appearance they were singularly pleasing and bore a marked resemblance to one another, all having smooth faces, clear cut, regular features, dark eyes and long black hair.
When they were as yet boys they had been captured by Indians, soon after their arrival on the Virginia border, and had been taken far into the interior, and held as captives for two years. Ebenezer, Silas, and Jonathan Zane were then taken to Detroit and ransomed. While attempting to swim the Scioto river in an effort to escape, Andrew Zane had been shot and killed by his pursuers.
But the bonds that held Isaac Zane, the remaining and youngest brother, were stronger than those of interest or revenge such as had caused the captivity of his brothers. He was loved by an Indian princess, the daughter of Tarhe, the chief of the puissant Huron race. Isaac had escaped on various occasions, but had always been retaken, and at the time of the opening of our story nothing had been heard of him for several years, and it was believed he had been killed.
At the period of the settling of the little colony in the wilderness, Elizabeth Zane, the only sister, was living with an aunt in Philadelphia, where she was being educated.
Colonel Zane's house, a two story structure built of rough hewn logs, was the most comfortable one in the settlement, and occupied a prominent site on the hillside about one hundred yards from the fort. It was constructed of heavy timber and presented rather a forbidding appearance with its square corners, its ominous looking portholes, and strongly barred doors and windows. There were three rooms on the ground floor, a kitchen, a magazine room for military supplies, and a large room for general use. The several sleeping rooms were on the second floor, which was reached by a steep stairway.
The interior of a pioneer's rude dwelling did not reveal, as a rule, more than bare walls, a bed or two, a table and a few chairs—in fact, no more than the necessities of life. But Colonel Zane's house proved an exception to this. Most interesting was the large room. The chinks between the logs had been plastered up with clay and then the walls covered with white birch bark; trophies of the chase, Indian bows and arrows, pipes and tomahawks hung upon them; the wide spreading antlers of a noble buck adorned the space above the mantel piece; buffalo robes covered the couches; bearskin rugs lay scattered about on the hardwood floor. The wall on the western side had been built over a huge stone, into which had been cut an open fireplace.
This blackened recess, which had seen two houses burned over it, when full of blazing logs had cheered many noted men with its warmth. Lord Dunmore, General Clark, Simon Kenton, and Daniel Boone had sat beside that fire. There Cornplanter, the Seneca chief, had made his famous deal with Colonel Zane, trading the island in the river opposite the settlement for a barrel of whiskey. Logan, the Mingo chief and friend of the whites, had smoked many pipes of peace there with Colonel Zane. At a later period, when King Louis Phillippe, who had been exiled from France by Napoleon, had come to America, during the course of his melancholy wanderings he had stopped at Fort Henry a few days. His stay there was marked by a fierce blizzard and the royal guest passed most of his time at Colonel Zane's fireside. Musing by those roaring logs perhaps he saw the radiant star of the Man of Destiny rise to its magnificent zenith.
One cold, raw night in early spring the Colonel had just returned from one of his hunting trips and the tramping of horses mingled with the rough voices of the negro slaves sounded without. When Colonel Zane entered the house he was greeted affectionately by his wife and sister. The latter, at the death of her aunt in Philadelphia, had come west to live with her brother, and had been there since late in the preceding autumn. It was a welcome sight for the eyes of a tired and weary hunter. The tender kiss of his comely wife, the cries of the delighted children, and the crackling of the fire warmed his heart and made him feel how good it was to be home again after a three days' march in the woods. Placing his rifle in a corner and throwing aside his wet hunting coat, he turned and stood with his back to the bright blaze. Still young and vigorous, Colonel Zane was a handsome man. Tall, though not heavy, his frame denoted great strength and endurance. His face was smooth, his heavy eyebrows met in a straight line; his eyes were dark and now beamed with a kindly light; his jaw was square and massive; his mouth resolute; in fact, his whole face was strikingly expressive of courage and geniality. A great wolf dog had followed him in and, tired from travel, had stretched himself out before the fireplace, laying his noble head on the paws he had extended toward the warm blaze.
"Well! Well! I am nearly starved and mighty glad to get back," said the Colonel, with a smile of satisfaction at the steaming dishes a negro servant was bringing from the kitchen.
"We are glad you have returned," answered his wife, whose glowing face testified to the pleasure she felt. "Supper is ready—Annie, bring in some cream—yes, indeed, I am happy that you are home. I never have a moment's peace when you are away, especially when you are accompanied by Lewis Wetzel."
"Our hunt was a failure," said the Colonel, after he had helped himself to a plate full of roast wild turkey. "The bears have just come out of their winter's sleep and are unusually wary at this time. We saw many signs of their work, tearing rotten logs to pieces in search of grubs and bees' nests. Wetzel killed a deer and we baited a likely place where we had discovered many bear tracks. We stayed up all night in a drizzling rain, hoping to get a shot. I am tired out. So is Tige. Wetzel did not mind the weather or the ill luck, and when we ran across some Indian sign he went off on one of his lonely tramps, leaving me to come home alone."
"He is such a reckless man," remarked Mrs. Zane.
"Wetzel is reckless, or rather, daring. His incomparable nerve carries him safely through many dangers, where an ordinary man would have no show whatever. Well, Betty, how are you?"
"Quite well," said the slender, dark-eyed girl who had just taken the seat opposite the Colonel.
"Bessie, has my sister indulged in any shocking escapade in my absence? I think that last trick of hers, when she gave a bucket of hard cider to that poor tame bear, should last her a spell."
"No, for a wonder Elizabeth has been very good. However, I do not attribute it to any unusual change of temperament; simply the cold, wet weather. I anticipate a catastrophe very shortly if she is kept indoors much longer."
"I have not had much opportunity to be anything but well behaved. If it rains a few days more I shall become desperate. I want to ride my pony, roam the woods, paddle my canoe, and enjoy myself," said Elizabeth.
"Well! Well! Betts, I knew it would be dull here for you, but you must not get discouraged. You know you got here late last fall, and have not had any pleasant weather yet. It is perfectly delightful in May and June. I can take you to fields of wild white honeysuckle and May flowers and wild roses. I know you love the woods, so be patient a little longer."
Elizabeth had been spoiled by her brothers—what girl would not have been by five great big worshippers?—and any trivial thing gone wrong with her was a serious matter to them. They were proud of her, and of her beauty and accomplishments were never tired of talking. She had the dark hair and eyes so characteristic of the Zanes; the same oval face and fine features: and added to this was a certain softness of contour and a sweetness of expression which made her face bewitching. But, in spite of that demure and innocent face, she possessed a decided will of her own, and one very apt to be asserted; she was mischievous; inclined to coquettishness, and more terrible than all she had a fiery temper which could be aroused with the most surprising ease.
Colonel Zane was wont to say that his sister's accomplishments were innumerable. After only a few months on the border she could prepare the flax and weave a linsey dresscloth with admirable skill. Sometimes to humor Betty the Colonel's wife would allow her to get the dinner, and she would do it in a manner that pleased her brothers, and called forth golden praises from the cook, old Sam's wife who had been with the family twenty years. Betty sang in the little church on Sundays; she organized and taught a Sunday school class; she often beat Colonel Zane and Major McColloch at their favorite game of checkers, which they had played together since they were knee high; in fact, Betty did nearly everything well, from baking pies to painting the birch bark walls of her room. But these things were insignificant in Colonel Zane's eyes. If the Colonel were ever guilty of bragging it was about his sister's ability in those acquirements demanding a true eye, a fleet foot, a strong arm and a daring spirit. He had told all the people in the settlement, to many of whom Betty was unknown, that she could ride like an Indian and shoot with undoubted skill; that she had a generous share of the Zanes' fleetness of foot, and that she would send a canoe over as bad a place as she could find. The boasts of the Colonel remained as yet unproven, but, be that as it may, Betty had, notwithstanding her many faults, endeared herself to all. She made sunshine and happiness everywhere; the old people loved her; the children adored her, and the broad shouldered, heavy footed young settlers were shy and silent, yet blissfully happy in her presence.
"Betty, will you fill my pipe?" asked the Colonel, when he had finished his supper and had pulled his big chair nearer the fire. His oldest child, Noah, a sturdy lad of six, climbed upon his knee and plied him with questions.
"Did you see any bars and bufflers?" he asked, his eyes large and round.
"No, my lad, not one."
"How long will it be until I am big enough to go?"
"Not for a very long time, Noah."
"But I am not afraid of Betty's bar. He growls at me when I throw sticks at him, and snaps his teeth. Can I go with you next time?"
"My brother came over from Short Creek to-day. He has been to Fort Pitt," interposed Mrs. Zane. As she was speaking a tap sounded on the door, which, being opened by Betty, disclosed Captain Boggs his daughter Lydia, and Major Samuel McColloch, the brother of Mrs. Zane.
"Ah, Colonel! I expected to find you at home to-night. The weather has been miserable for hunting and it is not getting any better. The wind is blowing from the northwest and a storm is coming," said Captain Boggs, a fine, soldierly looking man.
"Hello, Captain! How are you? Sam, I have not had the pleasure of seeing you for a long time," replied Colonel Zane, as he shook hands with his guests.
Major McColloch was the eldest of the brothers of that name. As an Indian killer he ranked next to the intrepid Wetzel; but while Wetzel preferred to take his chances alone and track the Indians through the untrodden wilds, McColloch was a leader of expeditions against the savages. A giant in stature, massive in build, bronzed and bearded, he looked the typical frontiersman. His blue eyes were like those of his sister and his voice had the same pleasant ring.
"Major McColloch, do you remember me?" asked Betty.
"Indeed I do," he answered, with a smile. "You were a little girl, running wild, on the Potomac when I last saw you!"
"Do you remember when you used to lift me on your horse and give me lessons in riding?"
"I remember better than you. How you used to stick on the back of that horse was a mystery to me."
"Well, I shall be ready soon to go on with those lessons in riding. I have heard of your wonderful leap over the hill and I should like to have you tell me all about it. Of all the stories I have heard since I arrived at Fort Henry, the one of your ride and leap for life is the most wonderful."
"Yes, Sam, she will bother you to death about that ride, and will try to give you lessons in leaping down precipices. I should not be at all surprised to find her trying to duplicate your feat. You know the Indian pony I got from that fur trader last summer. Well, he is as wild as a deer and she has been riding him without his being broken," said Colonel Zane.
"Some other time I shall tell you about my jump over the hill. Just now I have important matters to discuss," answered the Major to Betty.
It was evident that something unusual had occurred, for after chatting a few moments the three men withdrew into the magazine room and conversed in low, earnest tones.
Lydia Boggs was eighteen, fair haired and blue eyed. Like Betty she had received a good education, and, in that respect, was superior to the border girls, who seldom knew more than to keep house and to make linen. At the outbreak of the Indian wars General Clark had stationed Captain Boggs at Fort Henry and Lydia had lived there with him two years. After Betty's arrival, which she hailed with delight, the girls had become fast friends.
Lydia slipped her arm affectionately around Betty's neck and said, "Why did you not come over to the Fort to-day?"
"It has been such an ugly day, so disagreeable altogether, that I have remained indoors."
"You missed something," said Lydia, knowingly.
"What do you mean? What did I miss?"
"Oh, perhaps, after all, it will not interest you."
"How provoking! Of course it will. Anything or anybody would interest me to-night. Do tell me, please."
"It isn't much. Only a young soldier came over with Major McColloch."
"A soldier? From Fort Pitt? Do I know him? I have met most of the officers."
"No, you have never seen him. He is a stranger to all of us."
"There does not seem to be so much in your news," said Betty, in a disappointed tone. "To be sure, strangers are a rarity in our little village, but, judging from the strangers who have visited us in the past, I imagine this one cannot be much different."
"Wait until you see him," said Lydia, with a serious little nod of her head.
"Come, tell me all about him," said Betty, now much interested.
"Major McColloch brought him in to see papa, and he was introduced to me. He is a southerner and from one of those old families. I could tell by his cool, easy, almost reckless air. He is handsome, tall and fair, and his face is frank and open. He has such beautiful manners. He bowed low to me and really I felt so embarrassed that I hardly spoke. You know I am used to these big hunters seizing your hand and giving it a squeeze which makes you want to scream. Well, this young man is different. He is a cavalier. All the girls are in love with him already. So will you be."
"I? Indeed not. But how refreshing. You must have been strongly impressed to see and remember all you have told me."
"Betty Zane, I remember so well because he is just the man you described one day when we were building castles and telling each other what kind of a hero we wanted."
"Girls, do not talk such nonsense," interrupted the Colonel's wife who was perturbed by the colloquy in the other room. She had seen those ominous signs before. "Can you find nothing better to talk about?"
Meanwhile Colonel Zane and his companions were earnestly discussing certain information which had arrived that day. A friendly Indian runner had brought news to Short Creek, a settlement on the river between Fort Henry and Fort Pitt of an intended raid by the Indians all along the Ohio valley. Major McColloch, who had been warned by Wetzel of the fever of unrest among the Indians—a fever which broke out every spring—had gone to Fort Pitt with the hope of bringing back reinforcements, but, excepting the young soldier, who had volunteered to return with him, no help could he enlist, so he journeyed back post-haste to Fort Henry.
The information he brought disturbed Captain Boggs, who commanded the garrison, as a number of men were away on a logging expedition up the river, and were not expected to raft down to the Fort for two weeks.
Jonathan Zane, who had been sent for, joined the trio at this moment, and was acquainted with the particulars. The Zane brothers were always consulted where any question concerning Indian craft and cunning was to be decided. Colonel Zane had a strong friendly influence with certain tribes, and his advice was invaluable. Jonathan Zane hated the sight of an Indian and except for his knowledge as a scout, or Indian tracker or fighter, he was of little use in a council. Colonel Zane informed the men of the fact that Wetzel and he had discovered Indian tracks within ten miles of the Fort, and he dwelt particularly on the disappearance of Wetzel.
"Now, you can depend on what I say. There are Wyandots in force on the war path. Wetzel told me to dig for the Fort and he left me in a hurry. We were near that cranberry bog over at the foot of Bald mountain. I do not believe we shall be attacked. In my opinion the Indians would come up from the west and keep to the high ridges along Yellow creek. They always come that way. But of course, it is best to know surely, and I daresay Lew will come in to-night or to-morrow with the facts. In the meantime put out some scouts back in the woods and let Jonathan and the Major watch the river."
"I hope Wetzel will come in," said the Major. "We can trust him to know more about the Indians than any one. It was a week before you and he went hunting that I saw him. I went to Fort Pitt and tried to bring over some men, but the garrison is short and they need men as much as we do. A young soldier named Clarke volunteered to come and I brought him along with me. He has not seen any Indian fighting, but he is a likely looking chap, and I guess will do. Captain Boggs will give him a place in the block house if you say so."
"By all means. We shall be glad to have him," said Colonel Zane.
"It would not be so serious if I had not sent the men up the river," said Captain Boggs, in anxious tones. "Do you think it possible they might have fallen in with the Indians?"
"It is possible, of course, but not probable," answered Colonel Zane. "The Indians are all across the Ohio. Wetzel is over there and he will get here long before they do."
"I hope it may be as you say. I have much confidence in your judgment," returned Captain Boggs. "I shall put out scouts and take all the precaution possible. We must return now. Come, Lydia."
"Whew! What an awful night this is going to be," said Colonel Zane, when he had closed the door after his guests' departure. "I should not care to sleep out to-night."
"Eb, what will Lew Wetzel do on a night like this?" asked Betty, curiously.
"Oh, Lew will be as snug as a rabbit in his burrow," said Colonel Zane, laughing. "In a few moments he can build a birch bark shack, start a fire inside and go to sleep comfortably."
"Ebenezer, what is all this confab about? What did my brother tell you?" asked Mrs. Zane, anxiously.
"We are in for more trouble from the Wyandots and Shawnees. But, Bessie, I don't believe it will come soon. We are too well protected here for anything but a protracted siege."
Colonel Zane's light and rather evasive answer did not deceive his wife. She knew her brother and her husband would not wear anxious faces for nothing. Her usually bright face clouded with a look of distress. She had seen enough of Indian warfare to make her shudder with horror at the mere thought. Betty seemed unconcerned. She sat down beside the dog and patted him on the head.
"Tige, Indians! Indians!" she said.
The dog growled and showed his teeth. It was only necessary to mention Indians to arouse his ire.
"The dog has been uneasy of late," continued Colonel Zane "He found the Indian tracks before Wetzel did. You know how Tige hates Indians. Ever since he came home with Isaac four years ago he has been of great service to the scouts, as he possesses so much intelligence and sagacity. Tige followed Isaac home the last time he escaped from the Wyandots. When Isaac was in captivity he nursed and cared for the dog after he had been brutally beaten by the redskins. Have you ever heard that long mournful howl Tige gives out sometimes in the dead of night?"
"Yes I have, and it makes me cover up my head," said Betty.
"Well, it is Tige mourning for Isaac," said Colonel Zane
"Poor Isaac," murmured Betty.
"Do you remember him? It has been nine years since you saw him," said Mrs. Zane.
"Remember Isaac? Indeed I do. I shall never forget him. I wonder if he is still living?"
"Probably not. It is now four years since he was recaptured. I think it would have been impossible to keep him that length of time, unless, of course, he has married that Indian girl. The simplicity of the Indian nature is remarkable. He could easily have deceived them and made them believe he was content in captivity. Probably, in attempting to escape again, he has been killed as was poor Andrew."
Brother and sister gazed with dark, sad eyes into the fire, now burned down to a glowing bed of coals. The silence remained unbroken save for the moan of the rising wind outside, the rattle of hail, and the patter of rain drops on the roof.
CHAPTER II.
Fort Henry stood on a bluff overlooking the river and commanded a fine view of the surrounding country. In shape it was a parallelogram, being about three hundred and fifty-six feet in length, and one hundred and fifty in width. Surrounded by a stockade fence twelve feet high, with a yard wide walk running around the inside, and with bastions at each corner large enough to contain six defenders, the fort presented an almost impregnable defense. The blockhouse was two stories in height, the second story projecting out several feet over the first. The thick white oak walls bristled with portholes. Besides the blockhouse, there were a number of cabins located within the stockade. Wells had been sunk inside the inclosure, so that if the spring happened to go dry, an abundance of good water could be had at all times.
In all the histories of frontier life mention is made of the forts and the protection they offered in time of savage warfare. These forts were used as homes for the settlers, who often lived for weeks inside the walls.
Forts constructed entirely of wood without the aid of a nail or spike (for the good reason that these things could not be had) may seem insignificant in these days of great nasal and military garrisons. However, they answered the purpose at that time and served to protect many an infant settlement from the savage attacks of Indian tribes. During a siege of Fort Henry, which had occurred about a year previous, the settlers would have lost scarcely a man had they kept to the fort. But Captain Ogle, at that time in charge of the garrison, had led a company out in search of the Indians. Nearly all of his men were killed, several only making their way to the fort.
On the day following Major McColloch's arrival at Fort Henry, the settlers had been called in from their spring plowing and other labors, and were now busily engaged in moving their stock and the things they wished to save from the destructive torch of the redskin. The women had their hands full with the children, the cleaning of rifles and moulding of bullets, and the thousand and one things the sterner tasks of their husbands had left them. Major McColloch, Jonathan and Silas Zane, early in the day, had taken different directions along the river to keep a sharp lookout for signs of the enemy. Colonel Zane intended to stay in his oven house and defend it, so he had not moved anything to the fort excepting his horses and cattle. Old Sam, the negro, was hauling loads of hay inside the stockade. Captain Boggs had detailed several scouts to watch the roads and one of these was the young man, Clarke, who had accompanied the Major from Fort Pitt.
The appearance of Alfred Clarke, despite the fact that he wore the regulation hunting garb, indicated a young man to whom the hard work and privation of the settler were unaccustomed things. So thought the pioneers who noticed his graceful walk, his fair skin and smooth hands. Yet those who carefully studied his clearcut features were favorably impressed; the women, by the direct, honest gaze of his blue eyes and the absence of ungentle lines in his face; the men, by the good nature, and that indefinable something by which a man marks another as true steel.
He brought nothing with him from Fort Pitt except his horse, a black-coated, fine limbed thoroughbred, which he frankly confessed was all he could call his own. When asking Colonel Zane to give him a position in the garrison he said he was a Virginian and had been educated in Philadelphia; that after his father died his mother married again, and this, together with a natural love of adventure, had induced him to run away and seek his fortune with the hardy pioneer and the cunning savage of the border. Beyond a few months' service under General Clark he knew nothing of frontier life; but he was tired of idleness; he was strong and not afraid of work, and he could learn. Colonel Zane, who prided himself on his judgment of character, took a liking to the young man at once, and giving him a rifle and accoutrements, told him the border needed young men of pluck and fire, and that if he brought a strong hand and a willing heart he could surely find fortune[1q]. Possibly if Alfred Clarke could have been told of the fate in store for him he might have mounted his black steed and have placed miles between him and the frontier village; but, as there were none to tell, he went cheerfully out to meet that fate.
