He was undecided what to do with the Indian girl. It was not altogether practicable to take her with them, and it did not seem to be the humane thing to leave her behind to again fall into the hands of her brutal Indian husband.
At last one morning Stella announced that Singing Bird was almost well. On account of her health and generally fine physical condition she had made rapid progress toward recovery.
"What are we going to do with her?" asked Ted, when Stella announced that Singing Bird was well enough to travel.
"I don't know what she wants to do," said Stella. "One thing I am sure of, I am not going to see her come to any harm. I have grown very fond of her, for she is a sweet, good girl."
"Let us ask her what she wants to do. I suppose we shall have to abide by her decision, for we cannot turn her adrift."
Singing Bird was sitting in front of her tent in the sun, watching the cowboys sitting around their camp, weaving horsehair bridles, cleaning their guns, mending their clothes, and doing other things that fall to the leisure of a cow camp.
"Singing Bird, you are well now, and able to travel," said Stella, sitting down on the grass.
The girl looked at her and then at Ted with an expression of alarm in her face. They both saw that she feared what was coming.
"What do you want to do, Singing Bird? We must be on the trail again, for we have a long way to go to the big pasture to the north," Stella continued.
"I want to stay with you, sister," said the Indian girl simply. "I will die if you send me away. I will slave for you if you will only let me stay near you. I have no one else on earth. My husband has cast me out; my father will not have me back; the white man does not want the Indian. I am alone in the world. You have saved my life. I am your slave."