“I wonder if we shall ever come across that young Indian again?” Vera said unexpectedly. She happened at the moment to be passing a paper napkin filled with sandwiches to Bettina.
“Yes,” Bettina answered in a matter-of-fact fashion so that Peggy turned her head toward her and stared.
“Why do you think so, Anacaona, Flower of Gold?” she inquired slowly, smiling and using Bettina’s Indian Camp Fire name purposely. “Did he tell you at your first meeting that he meant to find you again?”
Bettina shook her head, but she had flushed and was sitting upright, her expression puzzled, but no longer dreaming.
“It was funny for me to say that, wasn’t it? But perhaps Vera’s asking me the question at that moment was odd. No; I suppose it wasn’t. It was natural that we should both be thinking of the Indian villages, with the outline of them before us and all of us so curious to see what they are like. And I—oh, well, why shouldn’t I be truthful? You may be amused or think I am ridiculous, if you like. But I have felt, all along, our meeting with the Indian was not just accidental. We are sure to see him again and I know he will make our stay out here more interesting if we do. He can teach us such a lot of things.”
“And I suppose Bettina can teach him nothing. Queer you liked him, Bettina, when you are usually so shy with strangers,” Peggy said slowly. In reality, she was paying but little attention to what she was saying, for she was almost asleep. The sun was so hot and the wind so sweet, and they had ridden steadily for several hours. Peggy did not know that she could feel such a pagan as she had in this past week. No wonder the primitive outdoor peoples worshiped the Sun God.
Mr. Simpson had gone to give the burros water and would be back in quarter of an hour. In reality, she was more sleepy than hungry, and they must soon go on with their riding.
This time Peggy closed her eyes entirely, although still believing that she was only drowsy and not asleep. And yet, the instant after, she felt her own arm lifted from the rock where it had been extended and flung violently across her body. Then she heard a cry from Bettina and saw her spring up.
Vera’s movement had been too quick for Peggy either to see or hear. But, getting up she now saw that Vera must have leaped forward and seized her arm in order to save her. She must have acted instantaneously and instinctively, for there had been no time for taking thought. Now she was leaning against a rock, with her face slightly pale and her lips set. Just beyond lay a rattlesnake with its head crushed against the opposite ledge of stone.
“That was one of the quickest and bravest things I ever saw anyone do, Vera,” Bettina said, her own face paler than the girl’s to whom she spoke. “I believe I saw that snake about to strike at Peggy’s arm at almost the same instant you did, but I was too paralyzed with horror to cry out; certainly I did not move. But I shall never forget, Vera, and I am more than grateful to you.”