Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink Page B

the Indians then? A sick feeling swept across her heart. Surely this was worse than the other. As if her thought had occurred to the first speaker, but in a more agreeable light, he said: “Let them say the men of Dunnville massacree the Indians, instead of waiting to be massacreed!”
    â€œWoodlawn will be against it,” said the more cautious third man.
    â€œWoodlawn puts too much faith in the Indians. If we can get enough men to our way of thinking, we need not consult Woodlawn. I don’t believe in caution when our lives are in danger. Wipe the Indians out, is what I say. Don’t wait for them to come and scalp us. Are you with me?”
    White and trembling, Caddie slipped past them. The men paid no attention to the little girl who had left her basket of turnips standing on the cellar steps. They went on talking angrily among themselves, enjoying the sound of their boastful words. Caddie went to the barn and into the stalls. There she hesitated a moment. Pete was faster than Betsy, but he was not so trustworthy. When he didn’t want to go, he would run



under a shed or low branch and scrape off his rider. Nothing must delay her today. Caddie slipped a bridle over Betsy’s head. She was trembling all over. There was something she must do now, and she was afraid. She must warn John and his Indians. She was certain in her heart that they meant the whites no harm, and the whites were going to kill them. Good John, who had given her the little calico and buckskin doll with its coarse horsehair braids!
    Oh, for Tom and Warren now! But they were gone with the men for supplies. Oh, for Father, who was always so wise and brave! But she could not wait for him to come back to tell him what he would never believe about his neighbors, unless he had heard it himself. There was no use going to Mother or Clara. They would only cry out in alarm and forbid her to go, and, since Father and the boys were not here, she felt that she must go. She knew as well as Kent where Indian John and his tribe had built their winter huts of bark. Fortunately, for the moment the barn was deserted. She must go while there was still time and before anybody saw her. She led Betsy to the little back door that opened toward the river. There was only one field to cross there and then she would be in the woods. The barn would shut off the sight of her departure from the house and the road.
    She had her hand on the latch of the door, when someone said: “Caddie!”
    Caddie’s hazel eyes blazed black in her white face as she turned. But it was only Katie Hyman who had followed her into the barn. Katie’s delicate face, framed in its pale halo of hair, was full of alarm.
    â€œCaddie, what are you doing? Where are you going?”
    â€œOh, Katie,” said Caddie with a choking noise like a sob, “they’re going to kill John and his Indians because he hasn’t come to kill us. I’ve got to warn him.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t go to the Indians now!” said Katie. “Oh, Caddie, no! You couldn’t do that!”
    â€œI’ve got to!” said Caddie grimly. “They must have a chance to get away. Don’t tell a soul where I’ve gone, Katie. Cross your heart!”
    Katie hesitated, her eyes wide with terror. Caddie had always been the leader at school. It was impossible for gentle Katie to disobey her. Her fingers made a feeble crisscross in the direction of her heart.
    â€œCross my heart,” Katie whispered.
    Caddie flung herself on Betsy’s back and dug heels into her flanks. She was away across the field and into the dripping wood. The gray mist was turning into fine rain. There was still snow in the wood and there would still be ice on the river.
    Katie shivered. She closed the small barn door and stood still with both hands pressed against her heart. An old cat, who had kittens in the loft, came by on noiseless feet, a dead mouse hanging from her mouth. She