"Colonel, I won't gainsay I've still got hot blood," replied Sheppard;
"but I came to Fort Henry for land. My old home in Williamsburg has
fallen into ruin together with the fortunes of my family. I brought my
daughter and my nephew because I wanted them to take root in
new soil."

"Well, George, right glad we are to have you. Where are your sons? I
remember them, though 'tis sixteen long years since I left old
Williamsburg."

"Gone. The Revolution took my sons. Helen is the last of the family."

"Well, well, indeed that's hard. Independence has cost you colonists
as big a price as border-freedom has us pioneers. Come, old friend,
forget the past. A new life begins for you here, and it will be one
which gives you much. See, up goes a cabin; that will soon be
your home."

Sheppard's eye marked the sturdy pioneers and a fast diminishing pile
of white-oak logs.

"Ho-heave!" cried a brawny foreman.

A dozen stout shoulders sagged beneath a well-trimmed log.

"Ho-heave!" yelled the foreman.

"See, up she goes," cried the colonel, "and to-morrow night she'll
shed rain."