"Oo-oo!" Evadna stared at the place where they were not. "Wild
Indians--I thought the boys were just teasing when they said
so--and it's really true, Aunt Phoebe?"

"They're no wilder than you are," Phoebe retorted impatiently.

"Oh, they ARE wild. They're exactly like in my history--and they
don't make a sound when they go--you just look, and they're gone!
That old fat one--did you see how she looked at me? As if she
wanted to--SCALP me, Aunt Phoebe! She looked right at my hair
and--"

"Well, she didn't take it with her, did she? Don't be silly.
I've known old Hagar ever since Wally was a baby. She took him
right to her own wikiup and nursed him with her own papoose for
two months when I was sick, and Viney stayed with me day and
night and pulled me through. Lucy I've known since she was a
papoose. Great grief, child! Didn't you hear me say they're old
friends? I wanted you to be nice to them, because if they like
you there's nothing they won't do for you. If they don't,
there's nothing they WILL do. You might as well get used to
them--"

Out by the gate rose a clamor which swept nearer and nearer until
the noise broke at the corner of the house like a great wave, in
a tumult of red blanket, flying black hair, the squalling of a
female voice, and the harsh laughter of the man who carried the
disturbance, kicking and clawing, in his arms. Fighting his way
to the milk-house, he dragged the squaw along beside the porch,
followed by the Indians and all the Hart boys, a yelling, jeering