But a child cannot always keep silence. After an hour she mustered courage to accost her fearful companion.
“Are you married?” she asked.
The Indian looked at her, and grunted, but did not reply.
“Have you got a wife?”
“Had squaw once—she dead,” answered John.
“Have you got any little girls like me?”
“No.”
“I wish you had,” sighed Carrie.
“What for you wish?”
“Because, then you would let me go to my papa. If you had a little girl, you would not like to have any one carry her off, would you?” and the little girl fixed her eyes on his face.