"I don't need to try!" she replied with a laugh.
The parting between the "emigrants" and the Indians was not such as history records of leave-takings between these sworn enemies. Carita had to wink hard to keep back the tears when she said good-bye to Blue Bonnet, and the little Judsons set up a loud wail when their former pursuers waved them farewell.
"It's a shame Carita has to go back and slave on that old farm," Blue Bonnet declared, as she looked after the little figure holding on to the baby with one hand and waving her handkerchief in the other.
"It seems selfish of us to be having a whole summer of fun when she's only had two or three days," said Sarah.
"Sarah talks as if it's downright wicked for any of us to be having a good time," Kitty retorted. "Maybe you think one of us ought to change places with Carita?" she challenged Sarah.
"Sarah is the only one of us that's unselfish enough to do such a thing!" Blue Bonnet exclaimed warmly; and Sarah sent her a grateful glance.
They were in a part of the country that Blue Bonnet called "the other side of the hills,"—a land of sheep-ranches, for the most part; rather barren and level, unlike the rolling green prairie of the cattle-country she loved. They could see the Judson's wagon winding its way across the plain, until only a blur of dust marked its course towards the horizon.
"Let's hurry," said Blue Bonnet, "I promised Grandmother we'd surely be back for lunch."
"It isn't your turn to cook, is it?" asked Kitty.
"No,—it's my turn to eat!" And Blue Bonnet, urging Firefly, was off at a lively clip towards camp.