The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1905-11-15

Wv NO'<
St0S playing with her doll.
Beyond the child through
the open door could be seen the mother
at her spinning wheel. cumming q
hymn that was as soothing as a lullaby
Il must have 1 drink" suddenly SAID
the little one, as if the sensation OF
thirst had just made itself manifest
"Now, Dorothy, you will have to stay
right here till l come back; l won't be
gone long, and you must be real good"
With this she set her doll on the step,
with her back against the jamb, in
order that she might maintain a genteel
position during her owns absence, and
away the young mistress ran down the
winding path to the spring, only 4
few rods off at the rear of the house.
Dorothy n every step of the way,
because she"couldn't help it. and, paus-
ing in front of the crystalline spring
Of icy GOODNESS, she took a brown gourd
from its resting place on a projecting
ledge Of stone, and, STOPPING down,
dipped it into the water. Then she
held it to her lips, while its dripping
GOODNESS moistened the corners Of her
mouth and the tip of her pug nose.
Two or three swallows We're sufficient,
and. with 4 sigh of enjoyment, she laid
down the vessel and was about to
whirl round and dash back to the
house. when she was abruptly checked
by the appearance of an Indian war
Flor, who came from among the under
growth, walking as silently as a
shadow.
He was Of medium height, rather
good looking for Of his race, his
long black hair hanging loosely about
his shoulders, while two or three gand-
lily stained eagle feathers projected from
the crown His countenance was not
disfgured by the hideous paint which
his people use when they go upon the
warpath. He wore the simple huting
shirt, leggings and beaded moccasins
common among the New England In
dams two centuries ago. The buck
horn handle of a knife thrust into his
girdle at the waist showed and he
grasped the barrel Of 4 long, old-fash-
ioned fintlock rife, whose stock rested
on the ground at his feet.
what do you want?" fearlessly
asked Dorothy Mayfeld. after the blue
eyes had looked for 4 moment straight
into the black orbs Of the redskin.
Drink water" replied the Indian in
fairly good English.
Once more, snatching up the gourd.
the girl dipped it into the spring and
held the dripping vessel toward her
dusky guest. The immobile face never
changed as he reached out the free
hand, took the gourd and held it to his
' lips.
That he was thirsty was quickly
shown, for he steadily crank, gradually
raising the vessel and throwing his
head back, while the astonished Dor
othy watched the Adams APPLE in
his throat as it bobbed up and down,
until not a t%easpoonful Of water was
left in the gourd.
"Oh, myw she exclaimed. Il guess
you haven't had a drink since you
were a little boy; you don't want any
more, do you"
NO." replied the Indian. with a
shake of. his head as he returned the
gourd, sat down on the ground and
drew the back of his hand across his
moist lips.
Dear me! Haven't you got any
handkerchief?'' asked the little one,
turning up her nose in disgust. The
Indian was somewhat mystiied over
the name of the article. but I'll became
clear when the little miss whipped out
a piece of spotless linen from the
pocket of her dress. and, stepping for
ward, carefully wiped away the mois-
ture that remained. Then she noticed
several beads of perspiration on the
Indians forehead-for the day was sui
try, and he had Travelled far-and she
%soothingly removed them.
There" she remarked, retreating a
step and viewing her WORK with salts
faction, NOW you look like somebody"
1t is not often that a member of the
Indian race betrays the emotion Of
mirth; but as this one looked at the
little miss and understood her words
his mouth moved until his ever white
teeth shone between coppery lips.
What's your name" he asked.
Carbohydrates the name of my
doll, too"
Live dere?' continued the warrior,
pointing a finger toward the log dwell
ing, which showed among the leafy
limbs of the trees.
"Of course I do. Where do yeu live?'
He turned half round. as he sat on
the ground, and pointed behind him.
"Off dere. good way. Little girl can't
walk"
Yes, I can, if I wanted to, but 1 don't
want to. Have you got any little girl
like me:'
Again the dark face was lit by a
smile and the head nodded without
speaking.
Won't you bring her TO see me some
time?"
"Mebbe," was the non-committal re-
ply.
"You mustn't forget it. Ill look for
her every day and will feel bad if you
don't bring her to see me-"
What fader's name?" asked the In.
dian, who had hardly removed his
piercing eyes from the face OF the
chattering miss.
why. his name is my father. How