“May the Great Spirit be praised that it is so. May He long preserve to you your innocent and loyal heart.”
With these words, the Indian woman stooped and laid her hand upon the child’s head; then slowly entered her lodge and let its curtains fall behind her. There was an unusual sternness about her demeanor which impressed Kitty greatly; so that it was with a very sober face that she herself gathered up her burdens and returned to the cabin.
Yet on the short way thither she met Gaspar, who beckoned to her from behind the shelter of a haystack, motioning silence.
“But you mustn’t keep me, Gaspar boy. Mother Mercy is terribly hurried this morning, and now, for some reason, Other Mother has stopped helping and has gone home to the tepee. If I don’t work, it will about crush her down, Mercy says.”
“Hang Mercy! There. I don’t mean that. I wish you wouldn’t always look so scared when I get mad. I am mad to-day, Kit. Mad clear through. I’ve got to be around amongst folks, too, for a while; but the first minute you get, you come to that pile of logs near Wahneenah’s place, and I’ll have something to tell you.”
“No you won’t! No you won’t! I know it already. I heard father Abel talking. There is to be a horse race, after the harvesting and the supper are over. There is a new man, or family, moved into the neighborhood and he is a horse trader. I heard all about it, sir!”
“You heard that? Did you hear anything else? About Wahneenah and money?”
“Only what she told me herself”; repeating the Indian woman’s words.
“Then she knows, poor thing!” cried Gaspar, indignantly.