"My goodness me, sakes alive and a tin dishpan! What's that?" she exclaimed. "I wonder if it could have been that June bug who told Buddy stories so nicely?"
Then she looked all around and she didn't see anything of a bug, and she didn't hear his wings buzzing, so she thought it couldn't have been him.
Then, bless me! if something more didn't shoot right past Brighteyes with a whizz and a whozz, making a funny noise, you know. And this time she saw what it was. It was an arrow, the kind that are shot from bows, you understand.
"Oh, the Indians are after me! The Indians are after me!" cried poor Brighteyes in fright, for you see she had read in her school reader about the Indians shooting arrows.
Then the little guinea pig girl started to run, but before she had taken three steps and a half, if another arrow didn't come whizzing through the bushes at her, and this time it was so close that it just touched her left ear.
This frightened her so that she fell down, and before she could get up to run away, if out from behind a tree didn't leap a bad boy.
So it wasn't an Indian shooting the arrows, after all, which, perhaps, was a good thing, as Indians can shoot very straight and might have hurt Brighteyes. No, it was a bad boy.
I call him bad because he shot at Brighteyes, and I guess before I'm through with this story that you'll call him bad also.
Well, that boy ran right at Brighteyes, and before she knew what was happening he had grabbed her.
"Wow!" cried the boy. "I've got it! I shot it! I've got a rabbit!"