GIVE WAY TO MISS SALLIE!
"Aunt Sallie," declared Ruth mournfully about two o'clock the next day,
"we are in great trouble!"
"My dear child, what is the matter now?" demanded Miss Stuart.
"Well," continued Ruth, "you remember about the little Indian girl whom
Bab accidentally shot yesterday? Naki has come back from a visit to her
and says she is very ill. He found the doctor there, who says he won't
answer for the child's life unless she is taken to a hospital in the
village, where he can see her often, and where she can have the proper
care. The doctor told Naki we waited too long yesterday to send for him.
He had to probe Eunice's arm to get out the bullet. But she will be all
right if she is only properly looked after."
"Then," declared Miss Sallie, "the matter is a very simple one. Have Naki
see to it. The child must be taken to a hospital in Lenox at once.
Everything shall be done for her comfort."
"Indeed, auntie, this is not such a simple matter to attend to as it
seems. The Indian grandmother positively refuses to let Eunice be moved.
She has kept the child hidden in these hills all her life, until she
believes Eunice will be eaten up, or run away with, if once she allows
her to go among white people."
"Nonsense!" sniffed Miss Sallie.
"It is all very well for you to say nonsense, Aunt Sallie, but you do not
dream how obstinate this old woman is. She declares an Indian does not
need treatment from a doctor. In the meantime, poor little Eunice's
temperature is going up, and she is delirious from the fever. What shall
we do? Poor Bab is feeling perfectly miserable."
"Take me to this obstinate old woman," said Miss Stuart, firmly.
"You?" cried Ruth, in astonishment.
"Certainly!" answered Aunt Sallie. "I _said_, '_take me_.'"
"But, auntie, you will so hate the climb up that trail," Ruth argued.
"And the wigwam is dreadful after you get there. Only the little Indian
girl is exquisite, like a flower growing in some horrid place. I don't
believe you will ever be equal to the trip."
"Ruth," insisted Miss Stuart in stately tones, "since I have thrown in my
fortunes as chaperon to 'The Automobile Girls' I have had many strange
adventures. Doubtless I shall have many others. Persuading an obstinate
woman to do what is best for the child she loves is not an impossible
task. It does not matter in the least whether the woman is white or an
Indian. Tell Naki to take me to the wigwam at once."
"Aunt Sallie, you are an angel!" cried Ruth, throwing her arms around her
aunt. "Now, Bab, don't you worry any more," she called into the next
room.
"Aunt Sallie does not know what she promises!" said Barbara, joining Ruth
and her aunt.
"Just let's leave her alone, Bab," whispered Ruth. "We will go along with
her to see Eunice. I think I am counting on my Aunt Sallie to win."
Miss Stuart paused to draw one deep breath, when she finally reached the
Indian woman's wigwam. Then she quietly entered the tent and walked over
to Eunice's bedside. Crouched on the floor by the child was the old
Indian squaw, who did not even lift her eyes to look at Miss Sallie.
Eunice was lying on her cedar bed, with her cheeks the color of the
scarlet leaves that once crowned her black hair.
"How do you do?" asked Miss Stuart politely, bowing to the Indian woman.
As Miss Sallie put her soft hand on Eunice's hot head, the child stopped
her restless movements for a second. The grandmother looked up.
"Your little girl is very ill!" Miss Stuart continued quietly. "I have
come to see that she has proper care. She must be taken to a hospital at
once. Naki will see to the arrangements. The doctor says the child must
be moved to-day."
The Indian woman shook her head. "The child shall not leave my wigwam!"
she declared, obstinately.
"Listen to me!" commanded Miss Stuart, quietly. Ruth and Barbara stood
near her, trembling with excitement. "We mean no harm to your little
girl. Naki will explain matters to you. But she must be properly looked
after. You are too old to attend to her, and your wigwam is not a fit
place. You declare your Eunice shall not go away from you even for a
little time." Miss Sallie spoke slowly and impressively. "If you do not
allow the child to go away, now, for a short time, so that the doctor can
make her well for you, she will leave you forever!"
But still the Indian woman muttered: "My child shall not leave my wigwam.
Indians have no need for white men's doctors."
"You are alone, aren't you?" inquired Miss Stuart, gently. "Are not you
and your grandchild the last of your race? Perhaps, if you had allowed
it, the doctors might have kept other members of your family for you."
The Indian woman shivered. Miss Stuart had touched some chord in her
memory. She raised her black eyes to Miss Sallie and spoke mournfully.
"You are right!" she asserted. "My grandchild and I are the last of a
great race. I am very old and I am now afraid. Let your white medicine
man make my Eunice well again. But I must follow where the child goes.
Down in the village they will steal her from me."
"Why, who would wish to steal her from you?" inquired Miss Stuart.
The old woman mumbled. "An enemy came to my door but yesterday." Then a
look of cunning crossed her face. She spoke childishly. "The lady is
wise!" she declared. "Who could wish to steal a poor little Indian girl?
Who in all this world has a claim on her but her poor old grandmother?
Enough has been said. An Indian does not like too much talk. The child
and I will go down into the valley to ask the service of the white
doctor. Naki is my friend. I will do as he says. An Indian can keep a
secret. Naki has long known that my child and I lived on this hilltop,
but he has not betrayed us. He has not even told his own wife. An Indian
can keep a secret." The old woman rocked back and forth as though well
pleased with herself.
"Keep whatever secrets you will!" Miss Sallie replied. "It is enough that
you will permit the child to have proper care."
"Girls!" Miss Stuart spoke from the depth of the largest chair in the
living room of their log cabin. It was nearly dusk and she was worn out
from her long walk to the Indian wigwam. "Girls, I want to ask you
something."
"Attention, girls!" cried Bab. "What is it, Miss Sallie?"
"What do you say," continued Miss Stuart, "to our going back to
civilization? We have had a beautiful time on our hill. I, for one, shall
long remember it. But the days are growing shorter. If we are to enjoy
Lenox, and all the delights it offers, don't you think it is about time
we were moving there? To tell you the truth, I have already engaged our
board at the hotel."
"Well then, Aunt Sallie, we have no choice in the matter, have we?" asked
Ruth, ruefully. "I want to enjoy Lenox, too, but I do so hate to leave
this heavenly hill."
"I vote for Lenox with Aunt Sallie!" Grace exclaimed.
"Sensible Grace!" Miss Stuart murmured.
"See here, Ruth, dear," protested Grace, "please don't look as if you
were offended with me. We have had a simply perfect time in the log
cabin, but I am just longing to see the lovely places down in Lenox, and
to meet the delightful people."
"Ruth," Barbara spoke sadly, "I, too, want to go down into Lenox now. If
Eunice is to be laid up in the hospital I want to be near her, so I can
find out how she is each day. I shall never be happy again until I know
she is well."
Mollie put her arm round her sister. "Don't you worry so, Bab, dear," she
pleaded. "I don't believe your shooting poor little Eunice in the arm is
going to do her harm in the end. Poor little thing! It was simply
dreadful for her to have to spend all her time with her old Indian
grandmother. She never had a chance to see anybody, or to learn anything.
She was simply sick for companions of her own age. That is why she was
always haunting our cabin. I don't believe Eunice is more than part
Indian, anyway!" Mollie ended impressively. "I've a feeling that we shall
do her more good, in the end, from this accident than we have done her
harm."
"You are a dear!" cried Bab, already comforted by her sister's prophecy.
"You are all against me!" quoth Ruth, rising. "I surrender, as usual, to
my beloved aunt. I want to go to Lenox, but--I want to be here on the
hill, too. So runs the world. We can't manage to have all the things we
want at the same time; so hurrah for Lenox and the gay world again! Come
here to the door with me, children. Let us say farewell to our sweet
hillside!"
The girls stood arm in arm on their front porch. The evening wind swept
up the hill and rustled through the pines. The brook near their house
hurried down the slope into the valley as though it were late for a
night's engagement.
"Ruth," Barbara declared solemnly, "whatever happens to 'The Automobile
Girls,' one thing is certain, nothing can ever be lovelier than the weeks
we have spent together on this beautiful hill. Let us kiss all around.
Call Aunt Sallie. She must be a party to the agreement. We will never
forget our little log cabin--never, no, never, in all our lives."