"But they won't any of 'em be out now, will they?" asked Bunny.
"Oh, the Indians may be sitting outside their cabins, smoking their pipes," said Tom.
"Oh, that'll be all right," observed Bunny. "They'll be peace-pipes and they won't hurt us."
"Of course not," laughed Tom.
From the road in front of the house where they finally got the milk they could look right down into the valley of the Indian encampment. And as Bunny looked he saw a bright fire blazing, and Indians walking or hopping slowly around it.
"Oh, Tom, look!" cried the small boy. "What's that? Are the Indians going on the war-path? I read of that in my school book. If they are, we'd better go back and tell Uncle Tad and father. Then they can get their guns and be ready."
"Those Indians aren't getting ready for war," said Tom. "They're only having a roast corn dance."
"What's a roast corn dance?" asked Bunny. "I'll show you the roast corn part to-morrow night," promised Tom. "But don't worry about those Indians. They'll not hurt you. Now we'd better go home."
As soon as Bunny was in the tent he shouted, much louder than he need have done:
"Oh, Sue, we saw Indians having a roast corn dance, and to-morrow night we're going to have one too!"