It's Monday.

They were tall, thin, fierce-looking men. Their skin was brownish-red. Their heads seemed to go up to a peak, and the peak was a tuft of hair that stood straight up and ended in feathers. Their eyes were black and still and glittering, like snakes eyes. They came closer and closer. Then they went out of sight, on the other side of the house. Laura’s head turned and so did Mary’s, and they looked at the place where those terrible men would appear when they came past the house. Mary whispered Indians. Laura was shivering; there was a queer feeling in her middle and the bones in her legs felt weak. She wanted to sit down. But she stood and looked and waited for those Indians to come out from beyond the house. The Indians did not do that. All this time Jack had been growling. Now he stopped growling and was lunging against the chain. His eyes were red and his lips curled back and all the hair on his back was bristling. He bounded and bounded, clear off the ground, trying to get loose from the chain. Laura was glad that the chain kept him right there with her. She whispered to Mary that Jack was here and Jack wouldn’t let them hurt them and they were safe if they stay close to Jack. Mary whispered that they were in the house with Ma and Carrie. Then Laura began to shake all over. She knew she must do something. She did not know what those Indians were doing to Ma and Baby Carrie. There was no sound at all from the house. She screamed, in a whisper, to asked what they were doing to Ma. Mary whispered that she didn’t know. Laura hoarsely whispered that she was going to let Jack loose and Jack would kill them. Mary answered that Pa had said not to. They were too scared to speak out loud.