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Ruth had insisted upon Wonota's remaining at the Red Mill from the hour she had ridden there for protection. Not that they believed Fenbrook would actually harm the Indian girl after he had cooled down. But it was better that she should be in Ruth's care as long as she was to work somewhat under the latter's tutelage. Besides, it gave the picture writer a chance to study her subject.
And perhaps the chauffeur of the car only intended to crowd by the girl of the Red Mill and so escape from the traffic hold-up. At Wonota's scream the director shouted for the camera men to halt. He started himself with angry excitement after the Indian girl. She had utterly spoiled the shot. But on the instant he was adding his warning cry to Wonota's and to the cries of other bystanders.
Squaws are not counted of great value among the possessions of a chief." "So you could not really respect such a man as I describe here if he allowed a girl to help him?" Ruth asked reflectively, for Wonota's criticism was giving her some thought. "He should not be such a man to need the help of a squaw," declared the Indian maid confidently.
The girl of the Red Mill was half crouched, striving to push back against the thrust of the stick in Dakota Joe's hands. The upper part of Fenbrook's body was plainly visible from Wonota's station at the foot of the cliff, and his wicked face could be mistaken for no other. "Now! The gun!" shouted Mr. Hooley. "Wonota! Come alive!" The Indian girl obeyed as far as springing into action went.
"White lady is always my friend, I know; and Wonota's friend," he observed. "But these bad men tried to steal Wonota." "Tell me how it happened," Ruth put in, hoping to change his trend of thought and determination. "I will tell you, my friend," said the Indian girl. "A little fat man came in a car when Chief Totantora and I were walking in the road. He got us to sit down yonder and talk to him.
Then he threw glass balls filled with feathers into the air for the Indian girl to explode. It was evident that she was not doing as well as usual, for she missed several shots. But this was not because of her own nervousness. Since the pony had been cut with Dakota Joe's whip it would not stand still, and its nervousness was plainly the cause of Wonota's misses.
It had in it many keepsakes my grandmother gave me before she passed to the Land of the Spirits." A demand had been made upon the proprietor of the Wild West Show for Wonota's possessions, but the man had refused to give them up. The girl had not brought away with her even the rifle she had used so successfully in the show. But her pony, West Wind, was stabled in the Red Mill barn.
"There will be two canoes and two good paddlers in each on either side of Wonota's craft, but out of the camera focus of course. Then, we will line up a lot of the boys along the shore on either side. If she gets a ducking she won't mind. She understands. That Indian girl has some pluck, all right," concluded the director with much satisfaction. "Yes, Wonota's courageous," agreed Ruth quietly.
"So the appearance of Wonota's father was the great surprise you had in store for us, Tom?" Ruth said at one point. "That's it. And some story that old fellow can tell his daughter if he warms up enough to do it. These Indians certainly are funny people. He seems to have taken a shine to me and follows me around a good deal as though he were my servant.
She drew bead upon the head of Dakota Joe, and his glaring eyes were transfixed by the appearance of the gaping muzzle of Wonota's gun. He dropped the stick with which he had forced Ruth to the edge of the path. She fell sideways, dizzy and faint, clinging to the rough rock with both hands. As it was, she came near rolling over the declivity after all.
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