y; but I promised
not to tell you girls about her. Is she much hurt, Naki?"

The man shook his head. "I can't tell," he said. "Better take her to the
house and see."

At this Eunice opened her eyes. Her lips were drawn in a fine line of
pain, but she did not flinch.

"I will go home to my own tent," she protested. "I will not enter the
abode of my enemies." The little girl struggled out of Mollie's hold and
rose to her feet. One arm hung limp and useless at her side.

When Reginald Latham touched her, she shuddered. Tiny drops of blood
trickled down to the ground.

"Give me your handkerchief, please?" asked Bab as she went up to Eunice.
"It is I who have hurt you," she said, "though I did not mean to do so.
Surely you will let me help you a little if I can."

She tore open Eunice's sleeve and tenderly wiped the blood. Naki brought
two sticks, and, with his assistance, Bab bound up the wounded arm, so
the blood no longer flowed. "Now you must go home to our cabin with us!"
she pleaded.

But Eunice broke away from them and started to flee. She trembled and
would have fallen had not Mollie caught her.

"See, you can't go home alone, Eunice dear," Mollie remonstrated. "And
you must see a doctor. The bullet from the rifle may still be in your
arm."

Eunice was obstinate. "Indians do not need doctors," she asserted.

But Naki came and took her in his arms. "We will take you to your own
tent," he declared. "She will rest better there," he explained to the
girls, "and I know the way over the hills. You may come with me. The
Indian squaw, her grandmother, will be hard to manage."

"But how shall we get a doctor up there?" asked Grace.

"I will go down for him later," Naki answered briefly. "You need have no
fear. An Indian knows how to treat a wound. They have small use for
doctors."

"Is your guide an Indian?" asked Reginald Latham of Ruth.

Ruth shook her head. "He may have some Indian blood," she said. "I didn't
know it. But this Indian child, where did she come from? And to think her
name is Eunice!"

"Eunice!" cried Reginald Latham in a strange voice. "Impossible. Why
Eunice is not an Indian name!"

"But it is what Mollie called her," protested Ruth. "And Mollie seems to
know who she is."

Reginald Latham's face had turned white.

Ruth felt her dislike of him slipping away. He seemed very sympathetic.
Mollie, Bab and Grace were hurrying along after Naki, over whose broad
shoulder hung the little Indi