"I don't want to do that," said the little beaver girl. "I want to be a real Indian myself and play with you."
"Oh, girls can't be Indians," said Toodle, and with that he and his brother, thinking no more of Crackie, began to make their bows and arrows.
To make a bow you take a stick and bend it. Then you make it fast, so it can't uncurve, by tying the two ends with a long string. That makes the string tight, and when you put an arrow on the string and stretch it and let it go suddenly, the arrow shoots a long way off.
But you must be very careful not to have sharp arrows, and not to aim them at any one—ever! Shoot at the fence. The fence doesn't mind it.
Soon Toodle and Noodle had their bows and arrows all made and they started off to find a good place to play Indian.
"We won't go to the wolf's island this time," said Toodle.
"No, indeed," agreed Noodle. "It's too dangerous. If we go anywhere let's go to a butterfly's island. A butterfly won't hurt us, even if we should gnaw down his peach tree."
So off they started in their play-boat, leaving Crackie at home as before, playing with her mended wooden doll. And the rubber doll was asleep in the bathtub, for she was very fond of soap and water. Not to eat, of course, but to float around in.
Well, Noodle and Toodle sailed on and on in their boats, hoisting their tails for sails, and soon they came to a new little island. They were sure this did not belong to the wolf, and so they decided to land on it and play Indian.
Out of the boat they got, and soon they were having a good time on the island, where a huckleberry bush grew with oranges dangling from the branches. I know that seems queer, but it was so in those days. Of course things have changed since then, and I don't suppose there are now any huckleberry bushes with oranges on, or even lemons, for that matter, but I am telling you this exactly as it happened.