It's Wednesday.
Chapter twenty-two: INDIANS RIDE AWAY
There was another long night of sleep. It was so good to lie down and sleep soundly. Everything was safe and quiet. Only the owls called Whooo Whooo in the woods along the creek, while the great moon sailed slowly over the curve of the sky above the endless prairie. In the morning the sun shone warmly. Down by the creek the frogs were croaking. They cried by the edge of the pools. "Knee deep! Knee deep! Better go 'round." Ever since Ma had told them what the frogs were saying, Mary and Laura could hear the words plainly. The door was open to let in the warm spring air. After breakfast Pa went out, whistling merrily. He was going to hitch Pet and Patty to the plow again. But his whistling suddenly stopped. He stood on the doorstep, looking toward the east, and he asked Ma, Mary and Laura to come here. Laura ran out first, and she was surprised. The Indians were coming. They did not come on the creek road. They came riding up out of the creek bottoms far to the east. First came the tall Indian who had gone riding by the house in the moonlight. Jack was growling and Laura's heart beat fast. She was glad to be close to Pa. But she knew this was the good Indian, the Osage chief who had stopped the terrible war-cries. His black pony came trotting willingly, sniffing the wind that blew its mane and tail like fluttering banners. The pony's nose and head were free; it wore no bridle. Not even one strap was on it anywhere. There was nothing to make it do anything it didn't want to do. Willingly it came trotting along the old Indian trail as if it liked to carry the Indian on its back. Jack growled savagely, trying to get loose from his chain. He remembered this Indian who had pointed a gun at him. Pa asked Jack to be still. Jack growled again, and for the first time in their lives Pa struck him. He asked Jack to lie down and be still.