"But who do you live with?" asked Maria. "Have you no friends at all?"
"Oh, I live with some of the Indians who were my father's friends!" said Guacha, "and Chiquita here is my good friend," and she smiled at the bird, who chattered to her gaily and pecked gently at her cheek. "I wish you could go home with me!" cried Maria impulsively, and just then she heard a shout resounding through the forest,
"Maria! Maria!" sounded her father's voice, and the two little girls hurried along faster, Maria answering the call as loudly as she could.
In a few moments they came in sight of the camp, and Maria was caught to her father's breast and kissed and scolded all in the same breath, while the rest of the children gathered around, eager with questions, all but Guacha, who stood apart, wistful and silent. Maria did not forget her, however, for escaping from her father's arms, she took the little Indian girl by the hand and said,
"Scold me all you want to, Daddy, though I did not mean to run away, but be kind to Guacha, who brought me back and who has no father."
Then the little Indian was made welcome, thanked and made much of, and the Senhora said,
"You must stay all night with us, dear child, for it is too late for you to return home through the forest. Will they be worried about you?"
"Thank you, Senhora, I will stay," she said simply. "There is no one at all to worry about me."
FOOTNOTES:
[16] Land breeze