For a moment the bereaved father was stunned. Then he prepared several torches, and accompanied by Bah-die, set forth to find her. At the edge of the forest he raised a mighty cry that he hoped would reach the little one's ears. To his amazement it was answered by a cheery "Hello! Hello there, Skookum John!"
"Ohee! Ohee!" shouted the Indian.
THE ARRIVAL AT SKOOKUM JOHN'S.
"Here's your tenas klootchman" (little woman), came the voice from the forest, and the happy father knew that he who shouted had found the lost child and was bringing her to him.
On the outskirts of his camp he stood and waited, with blazing torch uplifted above his head, and an expectant group of women and half-grown children huddled behind him. He was greatly perplexed when a few minutes later a tall white lad whom he had never before seen emerged from the forest bearing the lost child in his arms. There was another behind him, though, who was promptly recognized, for Skookum John knew Bonny Brooks well, and instantly it came to him that these were the boys whom the revenue-man claimed to have lost. And they had found his little one. How glad he was that his own search for them had been unsuccessful! But this was not the time to be thinking of them. There was his own little Nittitan. He must have her in his arms and hold her close before he could feel that she was really safe.
He stepped forward to take her, but the strange lad drew back, and Bonny cried out: "Kloshe nanitsh, Skookum. Tenas klootchman la pee, hyas sick," by which he conveyed the idea that the little woman had hurt her foot quite badly. Then he added: "It's all right, Rick. He understands that he must handle her gently."
So Alaric relinquished his burden, and the swarthy father, rejoicing but anxious, bore the child to a rude hut of brush and cedar mats, the open front of which was faced by a brightly blazing fire. Here he laid her gently down on a soft bear-skin and knelt beside her.
Alaric, who seemed to consider the child as still under his care, knelt on the opposite side and began to feel very carefully of one of the little ankles. He had not spent all his life in company with doctors without learning something of their trade, and after a brief examination he announced to Bonny that there were no broken bones, but merely a dislocation of the ankle-joint.
"I don't know anything about it," said Bonny, "but I should think that would be just as bad."