186 BENNY’S
creature they had talked of as a witch. But the most
friendly people seemed to disturb her —to break in
upon her dreams —and children, especially, were not
allowed to visit her.

Benny could not forego, youve the pleasure he
had promised himself, of getting ’Bijah to help him
make a fine wigwam in the woods, and saying to old
Winneenis — as she called herself — “There! what
d’ye call that? There's a wigwam for ye, ’n me ’n
*Bijah made it, too!”

Benny might make as many wigwams as he pleased,
Mr. Briggs said, “‘ but he was not to go near or disturb
old Winneenis.”

One extremity of the island was in the vicinity of
Grandma Potter's, and Benny passed a good many
days of his vacation at Grandma’s. One day Benny
said to ’Bijah, “Now you can make that wigwam,
can’t you, ’ Bijah? You said you would when the hay
was all in, and it zs all in, ain’t it? Le’s make it
to-day over there in the woods, on the island. The
boys are coming over to-morrow, and I want to have
it done before they get here. Say, will you, ’Bijah ?”

“Wal, I’d know but I can,” said *Bijah.

“JT want a veal one,” said Benny, “life-size, just
like them you saw when you was out there to
Dakota— none o’ your baby-houses.”

’Bijah went up-stairs into the barn chamber, hum-
ming Zhe Sweet By and By, and Benny accompa-
nied him in doing both. ’Bijah opened an enormous
chest and pulled out a lot of old buffalo and other
robes, the worn-out and moth-eaten accumulation of
years, not to say generations, and sitting down, took
out his jack-knife and ripped the ragged linings out
of several that were pretty well divested of their fui,
and making a pile of skins, old horse blankets and
lap rugs, he said, “‘ Now, then, sir, we'll have a wig-
wamn fit for old Black Hawk himself.”

And you may be sure ’Bijah was as good as his
word. He got out old Tom and the wagon, and he
and Benny and the skins and blankets all got in and
drove over to the woods on the island, and there
*Bijah cut poles and made the finest wigwam ever
seen this side of the Rocky Mountains — or the other
side either, for that matter. They spread blankets
on the ground inside, and Benny declared it wanted
nothing but a few Indians and tomahawks and bows
and arrows lying round to make it look just Ks the
picture in his g’ography.

Benny’s last thought was of his wigwam that night
as he slid off into the delicious sleep that only rosy-

WIGWAM.

cheeked, tired boys know. He dreamed he was the
chief of a powerful tribe, and that he found old Win-
neenis, not old any longer, but a little girl like F anny,
crying in the forest because she couldn’t find her
way to her people, and that he took her by the hand
and led her home. Her shout of rapture when she.
found herself once more with her people, wakened
Benny, and he saw it was morning, and the shout he
had heard instead of being that of little Winneenis,
was grandma's voice calling him to get up. He was
rather disappointed to find he wasn’t a powerful
chief, but he consoled himself with the thought of
his uncommonly fine wigwam, and hurried down
stairs to see what time it was, for the boys were to
come on the early train, and he meant to go right
over to the woods with them.

He had scarcely finished his breakfast when the
boys arrived, and they all started for the woods in
great glee. On the way, Benny told them the story
of old Winneenis, and the boys were full of wonder,
interest, and curiosity to see her.

Upon reaching the wigwam, they admired its out-
side, agreed that nothing in that style of architecture
could surpass it.

“And now,” said Benny, “see how nice ’tis in-
side,” and he took a peep in himself. “ Why,” whis-
pered he, drawing back, “she’s Aere —she’s here in
the wigwam, sound asleep, and she. looks awful glad.
Sh-sh ”— with a warning shake of his finger — “ we
mustn’t disturb her; father said I mustn’t. Le’s go
away and wait till she wakes up.”

They each took a peep at the old Indian woman

‘and went away softly.

They remained in sight of the wigwam, exhausting
every. device for wearing away the time, and Joe’s
watch was frequently consulted. Time and patience
wore away together.

“ There,” said Charlie, at last, “we’ve waited long
enough; we ought to wake her up now.”

“Tt might make her crazy again to see such a lot
of us, and I—I don’t like to,” said Benny. ““I’ll
go ’n ask ’Bijah what to do.”

They went and brought ’Bijah, who said he should
think likely she woud want to sleep a spell, she must
be pretty well beat out, pokin’ around all night,
He’d heard her making them queer noises o’ hern
—something like a hoarse kind 0’ Phebe bird, it
sounded, in the distance.

“T shouldn’t be surprised,” he began, in a low tone,
stooping and peering in at the wigwam ; but, contrary