“Shouldn’t think there was anything,” said Kenneth.
“Well, that’s just where you’re wrong. There was Silver Bell. You see she’d trained Silver Bell to do a lot of little tricks, and one of them was to pretend to be a dead horse; and as there was a real, dead horse a little way down the trail, it gave her an idea. So she made Silver Bell lie down across a little ditch at the bottom of the hollow, and crept in under her, so that she couldn’t be seen. Then she told her to ‛be a dead horse,’ and Silver Bell never moved a hair, even when the Injuns almost jumped over her in crossing the ditch.”
“Then didn’t anybody get scalped?” asked Kenneth, disappointed.
“Yes, lots of people; for this was the beginning of the great massacre at New Ulm. But the young woman got away safe and sound, and all because of a horse. She often said afterwards that if the baby had cried, or Silver Bell had wiggled so much as an ear, why—the Injuns might have guessed she wasn’t any dead horse.”
“But how does Chucklehead come into the story?”
“Chucklehead was Silver Bell’s last colt, and when everybody else laughed at him for being such a funny shape, and wanted him killed, Aunt Eunice kissed his mother on the forehead, and said, ‛You saved my baby once, and I’ll save yours!’”
“But it was the other woman’s baby that Silver Bell had saved,” said Eunice, puzzled.
“No, it wasn’t, kid. The young woman that the story is about was Grandmother, when she first came out here. And the little baby that she carried in her arms that day was—” David stopped a minute, and his voice grew softer, as he said, “was your own father, children. Now come to bed, for the fifteen minutes is more than up, and I want a nap before milking-time.”
He tossed Kenneth on his back, took Eunice in his arms, and tucked them both in their beds, with the caution not to think any more about “Injuns” that night.
Kenneth soon dropped asleep; but Eunice lay awake for some time, wondering how it would have seemed to be alive in Indian times, when red danger might come riding to meet one from over the peaceful prairie. And as she fell asleep, she seemed once more to hear David say, “And the little baby that she carried in her arms that day was—your own father.”