"In the Protestant churches they do send women to far countries as missionaries," rejoined Walter.
"That is funny," replied Francisco, reflectingly. "It may be well, if they are savages in India; but here we do not want them, I think."
"Are they here to convert the Indians?" asked Nellie.
"For the good waters, they say—but maybe, too, for other things. Oh, I tell you, we have plenty of such people in the summer. But they can not hurt very much.
"One day I was going for water, just like now," he continued. "The horse I could not find. After a while I saw this boy riding him bareback, and I said to him: 'You ride pretty well, but it is my horse, and I want him!' But he made one of his faces, and said he would not get off, and called me a dirty Indian. Then I pulled him off, and he struck me. After that I knocked him down, and my uncle came out from the house and said it was wrong to do so—that it was never known that the Indians quarreled with the whites at the Springs. So then I made my excuse to the boy and promised I would not quarrel again; but my uncle said to him that he must not take my horse again. And then he mocked my uncle; and I was going to hit him, but my uncle held me, and he said: 'Go away, boy. You are not a good boy.'"
"And then what did he do?" asked Walter.
"He put out his tongue, and just as he did so a lady came from around the corner by the church. She stopped and said: 'My son, that is not polite. You must not let the savages teach you how to behave.'"
"I'm sure you got angry again then, didn't you?" said Walter.
"Well, I did, and my uncle a little, too. He spoke for me. He said we were not savages, but Christian people. As he was speaking, that boy had picked up a stone, and, sneaking behind my uncle, he hit him in the back of the head. Once more I was going to fight with him, but my uncle took my arm, and he said: 'Promise me you will not strike that boy, either now or ever!' I promised, and we went away and left them. That is all—except that sometimes, when he sees me, he tries very hard to make me angry."
"He'd better not talk very much to me," said Walter. "I'm not afraid of him. If I gave him one good lamming, I guess he'd stop."