kets off our beds, and look slippy, can't you?"

It is wonderful how like an Indian you can make yourself with blankets
and feathers and coloured scarves. Of course none of the children
happened to have long black hair, but there was a lot of black calico
that had been bought to cover school-books with. They cut strips of this
into a sort of fine fringe, and fastened it round their heads with the
amber-coloured ribbons off the girls' Sunday dresses. Then they stuck
turkeys' feathers in the ribbons. The calico looked very like long black
hair, especially when the strips began to curl up a bit.

"But our faces," said Anthea, "they're not at all the right colour.
We're all rather pale, and I'm sure I don't know why, but Cyril is the
colour of putty."

"I'm not," said Cyril.

"The real Indians outside seem to be brownish," said Robert hastily. "I
think we ought to be really _red_--it's sort of superior to have a red
skin, if you are one."

The red ochre cook uses for the kitchen bricks seemed to be about the
reddest thing in the house. The children mixed some in a saucer with
milk, as they had seen cook do for the kitchen floor. Then they
carefully painted each other's faces and hands with it, till they were
quite as red as any Red Indian need be--if not redder.

They knew at once that they must look very terrible when they met Eliza
in the passage, and she screamed aloud. This unsolicited testimonial
pleased them very much. Hastily telling her not to be a goose, and that
it was only a game, the four blanketed, feathered, really and truly
Redskins went boldly out to meet the foe. I say boldly. That is because
I wish to be polite. At any rate, they went.

Along the hedge dividing the wilderness from the garden was a row of
dark heads, all highly feathered.

"It's our only chance," whispered Anthea. "Much better than to wait for
their blood-freezing attack. We must pretend like mad. Like that game of
cards where you pretend you've got aces when you haven't. Fluffing they
call it, I think. Now then. Whoop!"

With four wild war-whoops--or as near them as white children could be
expected to go without any previous practice--they rushed through the
gate and struck four war-like attitudes in face of the line of Red
Indians. These were all about the same height, and that height was
Cyril's.

"I hope to goodness they can talk English," said Cyril through his
attitude.

Anthea knew they could, though she never knew how