The girl now came a step or two nearer, holding out the doll for Anne to take. Her hair was very black and thick, and braided in one heavy plait. There was a band of bright feathers about her head, and she wore a loose tunic of finely dressed deerskin which came to her knees, and was without sleeves. Her arms and feet were bare, and as she stood smiling at Anne she made a very pretty picture.
Anne reached out her hand for the doll, and as she did so the Indian girl grasped it firmly, but in so gentle a manner that Anne did not draw back. The girl drew her along, smiling and saying strange sounding words in her own language, of which Anne could understand but one—“Mashpee.” This was the name of a tribe of Cape Cod Indians who owned land, and who were always kind and friendly toward the white settlers; Anne was quite sure that the girl was telling her that she belonged to that nation.
The Indian girl circled around the big tree near the spring, and there lay—spread out on the moss—Anne’s pretty blue cape, her white muslin dress, and her shoes and stockings and the bright coral beads. The Indian girl knelt down and picking up the beads fastened them about her own neck; she then threw the cape over her own shoulders, and, picking up the shoes and stockings, placed them in front of Anne, and put the muslin dress beside them.
It needed no words to explain this; she had selected what she wanted from the bundle and Anne could have the things that the Indian girl did not want.
Anne’s face must have expressed what she felt, for the smile faded from her companion’s lips, and the dark eyes grew unfriendly. She snatched the doll from Anne, and turned as if to run away.
“Nakanit!”
Both the girls gave a little jump, for they had been too much engrossed in each other to notice that an Indian squaw had come along the path, and had stopped a short distance from them. As she spoke the Indian girl started toward her, and began to talk rapidly. Anne stood waiting, and wondering what would happen now, and heartily wished herself safely back in the Stoddards’ snug little house.
As the Indian woman listened Anne could see that she was angry and when Nakanit, for that was the Indian girl’s name, had finished the squaw snatched the cape from the girl’s shoulders, and, pointing to the beads, evidently bade her unfasten them. As the Indian girl obeyed the squaw gave her a sharp slap on the cheek, and Nakanit, without a look toward Anne, fled into the forest.
“Here, white child,” said the woman, “here are your things. What are you doing so far from the settlement?”