"IS IT FOR ME?""IS IT FOR ME?"
"This came today," said the Chief to Billy, and Bah held up an envelope which she clutched in her hand.
"And see—letter to Bah."
Billy asked: "Why don't you open it?"
"Yes, will do," replied the girl. At the same time as Bah and Billy were opening the letter, the Chief, aided by his wife, was opening the large box.
"You read letter for me, please," smiled Bah.
Billy took the letter—but just then the box was opened and inside it the astonished family beheld a radio!
"What this?" asked Fighting Bull.
Said Billy wisely: "It's a radio—you know, you can listen to music andeverything. It's lots of fun. Come on, we'll fix it up!"
"WITHOUT YOU I COULDN'T HAVE WRITTEN IT.""WITHOUT YOU I COULDN'T HAVE WRITTEN IT."
With Billy's instructions the Chief set up the radio. It was a portable set and as soon as they attached the aerial and Billy turned the dials the sound offine music began to float on the air.
"Alive!" shrieked Bah, turned on her heels, and fled!
Billy, still holding the unopened letter, ran after her. He found her hidden in a thicket and brought her back to her parents, who stood transfixed before the radio, which was still sending forth music.
"Don't be afraid, Bah," said Billy. "It's not this box making the noise. The music comes through the air from a big city!"
The Chief and his wife were almost as impressed as Bah, but they did not show their feelings. They could only stand and stare while Billy, holding on to Bah with one hand for fear that shewould run away again, read the following letter:
"Dear Little Bah:Your story 'The Little Indian Weaver,' written by yourself about yourself, has won the Composition Contest. The prize, a radio, we are sending you today. It was a great pleasure to receive such a charming little story from a real Indian girl. The white children who read it will, we are sure, enjoy it, and learn a great deal from you. Thank you, and we hope you will like the radio!The Children's Magazine."
"Dear Little Bah:
Your story 'The Little Indian Weaver,' written by yourself about yourself, has won the Composition Contest. The prize, a radio, we are sending you today. It was a great pleasure to receive such a charming little story from a real Indian girl. The white children who read it will, we are sure, enjoy it, and learn a great deal from you. Thank you, and we hope you will like the radio!
The Children's Magazine."
"But—but," said Bah, "I not write story!"
Billy put his arm around her shoulders and smiling down at her said: "No, but I sent it in your name because if it hadn't been for you and your mother and father I never could have written it!"
"I PUT INDIAN FLAG ON MY SINGING BOX.""I PUT INDIAN FLAG ON MY SINGING BOX."
As the strains of music floated through the air, attracting the sheep from the prairie, two dreamy children sat beside the radio, which was perched on the top of a packing box, and listened eagerly.
THE WHITE CHILD LOVES HIS INDIAN FRIENDSTHE WHITE CHILD LOVES HIS INDIAN FRIENDS
Bah had outgrown her fear of the "Singing Box" as she called the radio, and each day she and Billy would enjoy songs and music from the city—strange sounds, some of them, to the little Indian girl.
But to Billy it had become a greater joy than he ever had anticipated to watch her rapture with the new toy.
One day he found a stick with feathers stuck on top of the radio, and he asked her what it meant.
"Bah put flag on Singing Box. That is Indian flag!"
Billy never ceased learning about the Indians, their customs and their interesting ways.
Perhaps the Fighting Bulls also were learning. They learned what many Indians do not know—that the white child loves his brother—the first American.
Transcriber's NotesPage85: Possibly missing "second" before "time" in the sentence:"That's the time you fooled me!" said he.Page90: Retained "Goodby" but possibly a typo for "goodbye."(he only called out, "Goodby, Father.")Page123: Retained "poring" but possibly a typo for "pouring."(Billy curled up in a big chair in the living room poring over his)