“I’d be perfectly happy if Marjorie were in it, too!” sighed Lily.
“Perhaps she will be soon,” said Frances, encouragingly. “Let’s hope so!”
Ruth blushed self-consciously at this remark, but no one noticed her embarrassment. She hastily changed the subject. “Tell us a story, Captain,” she suggested.
“What kind of story would you like?” asked Miss Phillips.
“Oh, one about the out-of-doors,” answered Ruth.
“Well, we mustn’t sit here long—the fire is beginning to die; but I’ll tell you a story of Ernest Thompson Seton’s—it’s in his book called ‘Two Little Savages,’ a boy’s book, but one which I think you girls would enjoy.
“This story is about an Indian squaw, who was taken prisoner by some tribe way up north. They marched her five hundred miles away, but one night she escaped and set out, not on the home trail, for she knew they would follow that way and kill her, but to one side. She didn’t know the country and got lost. She had no weapons but a knife, and no food but berries.
“She went as fast as she could for several days till a rainstorm came, and then she felt safe, because she knew her enemies could not trail her now. But winter was approaching, and she could not get home before it came. So she set to work right where she was.
“Can you girls imagine yourselves in such a position? All alone in the woods—no shelter, no food, no extra clothing, and the cold weather coming on fast?”
Frances shuddered. “I guess most of us would soon give up and die!” she said.