an
Indian blanket, striped in orange, black and red. She knew that strangers
were near. But her grandchild called her!

At the sight of Eunice the Indian woman gave a curious cry, which she
quickly stifled. In a voice that only Mollie, who stood near, could hear
she asked: "My little wood pigeon is wounded? I have long feared it."

Mollie marveled that the old Indian squaw spoke English.

Mother Eunice gathered her child in her arms and carried her within the
wigwam, laying her on a bed of cedar boughs covered with a heavy blanket.
Naki explained that Eunice had been accidentally shot by a rifle. The old
woman grunted. Without a word she tore down a bunch of herbs that hung at
the side of a wall. Placing them in an iron pot she went out of her tent
and stirred her fire into a quick blaze.

All this time the Indian woman had not spoken to Mollie, nor had she
appeared to know that anyone else was near.

Mollie had followed Eunice into the wigwam and knelt by her side. The
child moved restlessly. Mollie leaned over her and unfastened her dress.
Around Eunice's neck was an amulet of gold, each link in the chain carved
with curious Indian characters. At the end of the amulet, on a square of
beaten gold about an inch in size, was a monogram in English lettering.
Mollie had only time to see that the letters, looked like E. L. or E. S.
She could not tell which, for the Indian squaw was back in the room,
scowling at her.

As the grandmother tore the bandage from the little Indian girl's arm and
washed the wound with her healing herbs, Mollie saw that under the
clothing, the child's skin was several shades fairer.

At last the Indian woman rose up from her knees. "Let them come," she
requested of Naki. "Let those who linger in the bushes outside my wigwam
draw near to it. But beware how they cross the threshold of my tent!"

The squaw stood at her own door, waiting to speak to the girls and
Reginald Latham, as they drew near. "You have injured my child!" she said
bitterly. "Even in times of peace no Indian seems safe before the bullets
of the white man."

Bab colored deeply. "I am dreadfully sorry!" she declared. "It was I who
hurt your grandchild. Naki has told you what happened. How could we know
she was hiding near us? But, now that I have hurt her, you must at least
let us do what we can for her. Naki shall go down the hill and send a
doctor up here to look at Eunice's arm."

"Ugh!" grunted the squaw. "An Indian h