West of Fort Henry, in the wild and lawless country, the tribes are massing for an attack that will destroy the isolated white settlements. Settlers are doomed unless a few grizzled veterans of the Indian Wars can turn back the angry natives. One veteran is a man of legend and mystery: Wetzel rides through a borderland crawling with outlaws and savages, vowing to rid the frontier of its ruthless predators and to make the territory safe for the bold pioneers of the American West.
st itself in the forest foliage.
On the narrow point of land commanding a view of the rivers stood a long, low structure enclosed by a stockade fence, on the four corners of which were little box-shaped houses that bulged out as if trying to see what was going on beneath. The massive timbers used in the construction of this fort, the square, compact form, and the small, dark holes cut into the walls, gave the structure a threatening, impregnable aspect.
Below Nell and Joe, on the bank, were many log cabins. The yellow clay which filled the chinks between the logs gave these a peculiar striped appearance. There was life and bustle in the vicinity of these dwellings, in sharp contrast with the still grandeur of the neighboring forests. There were canvas-covered wagons around which curly-headed youngsters were playing. Several horses were grazing on the short grass, and six red and white oxen munched at the hay that had been thrown to them. The smoke of many fires curled upward, and near the blaze