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Updated: June 29, 2025
Chewannick stood with wide-open eyes understanding by Elizabeth's motions much of what she was telling him. Together they made the little creature a comfortable bed in the big yard outside the cabin.
As soon as she found it was hers, she called Chewannick within the palisade to see the little black thing with legs like sticks. "When it is old enough to be sheared," she explained, "I shall help to do that myself. Then my mother will help me to card its nice black wool, and we will spin it into long threads. I shall then weave a thick cloth, which will make me a warm winter cloak."
Late one afternoon as the cows came wandering in at their usual hour, the children watched the sheep huddle together. Elizabeth noticed that the little black lamb was not with them. "And the sheep came from the woods, not the marsh," she added after her first word of surprise. "Come, Chewannick, we must find my lamb!"
Farther still they pushed into the woods, hardly noticing how dark the shadows were growing. The cry seemed close at hand. "Yes, here's my darling lamb!" Elizabeth tugged at the poor little thing, caught by its woolly fleece in the long sharp thorns of a bush. "Help, Chewannick, pull hard!" Great tufts of black wool were left on the bush, but the frightened little creature was freed at last.
One day when the children were outside the palisade, Chewannick attempted to climb it. Elizabeth laughed and declared he could not do it. He then fastened a prop between the closely planted posts and tried again, but he could not spring with enough force to get over. Again and again on succeeding days he tried, determined at every failure to reach the top some day.
The children tried to shout, but they could make no sound. Chewannick bounded ahead. With desperate force he sprang upon the fence, grasped the top, and fairly fell over the other side. He had the door unbarred for Elizabeth and the lamb, as the fiery eyes of the wolf could be seen but a few rods up the path.
Their trails along the river and over the marshes to the sea were used by the white men in hunting and fishing. In this same wilderness Elizabeth dwelt in a cabin of logs, yet not without playmates or playthings. Chewannick, an Indian boy who lived in a wigwam, came often to play with her, and the little black lamb that was born in the spring was given to Elizabeth for her very own.
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