"Wathemah!" she called. He started, then turned toward her. She saw that he had been crying. She climbed up on the bowlder and sat down beside him.
"Donald lie!" he said, angrily.
"Yes, Wathemah, but he is sorry for it, and I am sure will tell you so."
She saw tears roll down the dirty little face. She had the wisdom to leave him alone; and walking a short distance up the canyon, sent pebbles skipping the water. After a while this drew him to her.
"Shall we go up stream?" she asked.
He nodded. They jumped from bowlder to bowlder, and at last stopped where the waters go softly, making a soothing music for the ear.
"Carla!"
"Yes, Wathemah."
"Jesus forgive?"
"Yes, dear, He does." Then Carla's self-control gave way, and she sobbed out her long-suppressed grief. Instantly the child's arms were around her neck.