October days were warm and sunny. The Indian women spread the corn out to dry. At night Sarah helped them to cover it carefully, so the heavy dew would not wet it.
There were many things to do. Tall John’s wife taught Sarah how to weave a basket. And because Sarah’s clothes were stiff and heavy, the Indian woman made her clothes of deerskin, such as the Indians wore when the days grew colder. She also made a pair of deerskin moccasins. Sarah’s feet felt light and free; she walked softly as the Indian children did.
Often she thought of her family. Were they on the way? Would Hannah and Margaret be afraid of wolves? Stephen would not be. And the baby was too young to know about the danger. . .
There was nothing, she thought, to be afraid of here with Tall John and his family. But there was.
The pleasant, quiet days came to an end, and all at once Sarah felt that there was fear and disturbance in the air. More Indians kept watch on Guarding Hill. The Indians from the North must be coming.
So Sarah scarcely knew whether to sleep at night. Suppose. . . Suppose. . . But tired from long days in the sun she slept at last, always with a fold of her cloak caught in her hand. And before she slept she said to herself:
Keep up your courage, Sarah Noble. Keep up your courage.
Once in the night she wakened and listened. Tall John had told her, partly in words and partly by signs, that all along the Great River there were hills like Guarding Hill, where men kept watch. If the Indians from the North were coming, the word would be passed from hill to hill by calling—and the villages would be ready.
Sarah listened and listened. Once she seemed to hear a long, low wailing.
Was this the signal? Were the Indians coming down from the North? She waited for the village to waken, but everything was still. In the darkness she could hear the even sleep-breathing of Tall John and his wife, of Small John and Mary.
“Why, it’s nothing but a wolf!” said Sarah. Soon her heart beat quietly and she, too, was breathing evenly in sleep.
In the morning Tall John told her that there had been fear—but the danger had passed. The river villages would not be raided.
So forgetting all her fears of the night before, Sarah played with the other children. It was such a charming game they played in the warm sunshine. Taking off all their moccasins they placed them in a row, then hid a pebble in one. Sarah was pleased when it came her turn to guess — and she guessed right. The pebble was in her own shoe! In the middle of the game she turned suddenly, feeling that someone was watching her.
And it was her father! John Noble stood there, saying not a word. His eyes crinkled up at the corners the way they did when he was amused, and he said, “Sarah! I had thought you were one of the Indian children!”
“Father!” said Sarah, and ran to him. “Has my mother come?”
“We are all here, now,” said her father. “I have come to take you home. But, daughter, I think it would be well to put on your own clothes, or your mother will surely not know you!”
So Sarah put on her clothes, piece by stiff piece. She now thought of buttons as tiresome, and as for petticoats . . . The moccasins she kept on, for her feet refused to go into those heavy leather shoes. When she was ready to leave, she saw Tall John looking sadly at her.
“You go . . . Sarah . . .” he said.
“I must,” said Sarah. “My mother is here.”
Tall John said nothing, but swung Sarah up on his shoulder, as he had done many times before.