Yes, he said to himself, in searching for them, I may find Amy’s friends.
Presently a shadow passed him, and looking up, saw Cahoonshee approaching.
Sleeping, he exclaimed, and as unconscious as the mother that sleeps beneath her. Perhaps she would be better off if she was as cold and lifeless as her mother. But such is not nature’s decree. She is saved for some purpose, for what, we know not. None of us can fathom the ways of the Great Spirit. We have buried the mother. Now let us take care of the child. Take her in your arms, Drake, and take her to the cabin.
Drake took her up as tenderly as a mother would her babe and carried her to the house. Rolla and the cat followed, mute and silent.
Amy was so overcome by her grief that she did not awake, and Drake laid her and her cat Walt on the bed.
Poor girl, said Betsy, she can’t give her mother up. But she must have something to eat. She has not eaten anything since her mother died.
Don’t wake her up, said Cahoonshee, let her have her cry and sleep out, and in the morning she will be more reconciled.
That night the parties talked over what they would do with Amy, and came to the conclusion to keep her in the Quick family until they could hear from her friends. That when they went on their farm at Milford, they would take Amy with them, that there she would have some opportunity to attend school, and mingle in society with those of her own sex.
When the family arose in the morning, Amy was up and gone. Instinct led Drake to her mother’s grave, where he found Amy and Rolla.