But a child cannot always keep silence. After an hour she mustered courage to accost her fearful companion.
The Indian looked at her, and grunted, but did not reply.
“Had squaw once--she dead,” answered John.
“Because, then you would let me go to my papa. If you had a little girl, you would not like to have any one carry her off, would you?” and the little girl fixed her eyes on his face.
“Think how sorry your little girl would be,” said Carrie.
But the Indian was not strong in the way of sentiment. His feelings were not easily touched. Besides, he felt sleepy. So he answered thus: “Little girl no talk. Indian tired. He go sleep.”
So saying, he stretched himself out at length on the leaves. But first he thought it necessary to give the child a caution.
“Little girl stay here,” he said. “Sleep, too.”
“No go way. Suppose go, then Indian kill her,” he concluded, with a fierce expression.
“You wouldn’t be so wicked as to kill me, would you?” said Carrie, turning pale.
Carrie implicitly believed him; and, as she did not know her way about, she would not have dared to disobey his commands. Then all at once there came another fear. The evening before Julius had read her a story of a traveler meeting a lion in the forest, and narrowly escaping with his life. It is true the forest was in Africa, but Carrie did not remember that. She did not know but that lions were in the habit of prowling about in the very forest where she was. Suppose one should come along while the Indian was asleep. She shuddered at the thought, and the fear made her speak.
“Are there any lions in this wood?” she asked.
“If one came while you were asleep, he might eat me up.”
The Indian was quick-witted enough to avail himself of this fear to prevent the child’s leaving him.
“Suppose one come; you wake me. Me kill him.”
“Then there are lions here?” she repeated, terror-stricken.
“Yes. Suppose you go away. Maybe meet him; he kill you.”
“I won’t go away,” said Carrie, quickly. “Are you sure you could kill one, if he came?”
“Yes; me kill many,” answered the Indian, with a disregard of truth more often to be found among civilized than barbarous nations.
Poor Carrie!--her sensations were by no means to be envied, as she sat by the side of the sleeping Indian, agitated by fears which, to her, were very real. On the one side was the Indian, on the other the lion who might spring upon her at any minute. From time to time she cast a terrified glance about her in search of the possible lion. She did not see him; but what was her delight when, as a result of one of these glances, she caught sight of a boy’s face--the face of Julius--peeping from behind a tree!