ite dark. Bawly gave a big
hop, and landed up front beside his brother.

"You mustn't walk here," said Bully. "Indians always go in single file,
one behind the other. Get behind me."

"I--I'm afraid," said Bawly.

"Of what?" asked his brother. "Indians are never afraid."

"I--I'm afraid I might scare somebody," said Bawly. "I--I look so fierce
you know. I just saw myself reflected back there in a pond of water that
was like a looking-glass and I'm enough to scare anybody."

"So much the better," said his brother. "You can scare the make-believe
white people whom we are going to capture and scalp. Get in behind me."

"Wouldn't it be just as well if I pretended to walk behind you, and
still stayed up front here, beside you?" asked Bawly, looking behind
him.

"Oh, I guess so," answered his brother. So the two frog boys, who looked
just like Indians, went on side by side though the woods. They looked
all around them for something to capture, but all that they saw was an
old lady hoptoad, going home from market.

"Shall we capture her?" asked Bawly, getting his bow and arrow ready.

"No," replied his brother. "She might tell mamma, and, anyhow, we
wouldn't want to hurt any of mamma's friends. We'll capture some of the
fellows." But Bully and Bawly couldn't seem to find any one, not even a
make-believe white person, and they were just going to sit down and eat
their lunch, anyhow, when they heard some one shouting:

"Help! Help! Oh, some one please help me!" called a voice.

"Some one's in trouble!" cried Bully. "Let's help them!"

So he and his brother bravely hurried on through the woods, and soon
they came to a place where they could hear the voice more plainly. Then
they looked between the bushes, and what should they see but poor
Arabella Chick, and a big hand-organ monkey had hold of her, and the
monkey was slowly pulling all the feathers from Arabella's tail.

"Oh, don't, please!" begged the little chicken girl. "Leave my feathers
alone."

"No, I shan't!" answered the monkey. "I want the feathers to make a
feather duster, to dust off my master's hand-organ," and with that he
yanked out another handful.

"Oh, will no one help me?" cried poor Arabella, trying to get away.
"I'll lose all my feathers!"

"We must help her," said Bawly to Bully.

"We surely must," agreed Bully. "Get all ready, and we'll shoot our
arrows at that monkey, and then we'll go out with our make-believe guns,
and shoot bang-bang