Presently when she had finished she filled the pail and stood up, straight and strong.
"I will carry it for you," said the schoolmaster.
She laughed.
"Why should I let you ?" she asked.

"I am more able than you." Most men would have taken it ill to have heard such words from a girl, but she was one among many, above the usual height for her years; she created at once the impression of great strength, both physical and mental; the heavy pail of water hung in her hand, as if it were a trifle that she did not notice.

The master smiled and looked at her with eyes of fatherly admiration.
"I must admit that you tell the truth," he said.

"This West of ours seems to suit you." "It is my country now," she said, "and I do not care for any other." "Since you will not let me carry the water you will at least let me walk with you ?" he said.
She did not reply, and he was startled by the sudden change that came over her.
First a look of wonder showed on her face, then she turned white, every particle of color leaving her cheeks.

The master could not tell what her expression meant, and he followed her eyes which were turned toward the wilderness.
From the forest came a figure very strange to Silas Pennypacker, a figure of barbaric splendor.