The man arose, and, after looking abroad for a moment, took a small telescope from the corner of the piazza, and turned it in the direction the boy had taken.

“Ah, now I see the little rogue!” he exclaimed.  “I think it must have been that island of high grass that hid him from you.  He has not gone very far; and now he is coming this way.  But who upon earth is he leading along?  I believe the adventurous little chap has been to the land of Nod to get him a wife.  I know of no little girl, except my Bessie, for five miles round; and it certainly is not she.  The fat little thing has toppled over in the grass, and Willie is picking her up.  I believe in my soul she’s an Indian.”

“An Indian!” exclaimed the mother, starting up suddenly.  “Have you heard of any Indians being seen hereabouts?  Do blow the horn to hurry him home.”

A tin horn was taken from the nail on which it hung, and a loud blast stirred the silent air.  Moles stopped their digging, squirrels paused in their gambols, prairie-dogs passed quickly from one to another a signal of alarm, and all the little beasts wondered what could be the meaning of these new sounds which had lately invaded the stillness of their haunts.

George glanced at the anxious countenance of his sister, and said,—­

“Don’t be frightened, Jenny, if some Indians do happen to call and see us.  You know you always agreed with me that they would be as good as Christians, if they were treated justly and kindly.  Besides, you see this one is a very small savage, and we shall soon have help enough to defend us from her formidable blows.  I made a louder noise with the horn than I need to have done; it has startled your husband, and he is coming from his plough; and there is my wife and Bessie running to see what is the matter over here.”

By this time the truant boy and his companion approached the house, and he mounted the steps of the piazza with eager haste, pulling her after him, immediately upon the arrival of his father, Aunt Mary, and Cousin Bessie.  Brief explanation was made, that the horn was blown to hurry Willie home; and all exclaimed,—­

“Why, Willie! who is this?”

“Found her squatting on the grass, pulling flowers,” he replied, almost out of breath.  “Don’t know her name.  She talks lingo.”

The whole company laughed.  The new-comer was a roly-poly, round enough to roll, with reddish-brown face, and a mop of black hair, cut in a straight line just above the eyes.  But such eyes! large and lambent, with a foreshadowing of sadness in their expression.  They shone in her dark face like moonlit waters in the dusky landscape of evening.  Her only garment was a short kirtle of plaited grass, not long enough to conceal her chubby knees.  She understood no word of English, and, when spoken to, repeated an Indian phrase, enigmatical to all present.  She clung to Willie, as if he were an old friend; and he, quite proud of the manliness of being a protector, stood with his arm across her brown shoulders, half offended at their merriment, saying,—­