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The place was in great confusion. The shooting, first of the Indians and then of the soldiers, had thoroughly waked up the town. The center of the activity seemed to be around the Mexican camp and when they reached the outskirts of the crowd that was jostling together in the street, they realized that the Mexicans were trapped, that if they had been unwise enough to start something they were outnumbered three to one. Here and there were Feather-in-the-Wind’s braves, ready for any emergency.,

“Your people and the Mexicans—they do not get along together?”,

“Mother dear, don’t you think that Bob will surely go to heaven when he dies?”,

Night having come, the Princess went to bed as usual, her little Fretillon lying at her feet, not even stirring one of his paws. Rosette slept soundly, but the wicked nurse kept awake, and went presently to fetch the boatman. She took him into the Princess's room, and together they lifted her up, feather bed, mattress, sheets, coverlet, and all, and threw them into the sea, the Princess all the while so fast asleep, that she never woke. But fortunately, her bed was made of Phœnix-feathers, which are extremely rare, and have the property of always floating on water; so that she was carried along in her bed as in a boat. The water, however, began gradually first to wet her feather bed, then her mattress, and Rosette began to feel uncomfortable, and turned from side to side, and then Fretillon woke up. He had a capital nose, and when he smelt the soles and cod-fish so near, he started barking at them, and this awoke all the other fish, who began swimming about. The bigger ones ran against the Princess's bed, which, not being attached to anything, span round and round like a whirligig. Rosette could not make out what was happening. "Is our boat having a dance on the water?" she said. "I am not accustomed to feeling so uneasy as I am to-night," and all the while Fretillon continued barking, and going on as if he was out of his mind. The wicked nurse and the boatman heard him from afar, and said: "There's that funny little beast drinking our healths with his mistress. Let us make haste to land," for they were now just opposite the town of the King of the Peacocks.

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“Cowboy?” said Bob, at once interested by the two magic words “riding range.” He had met them in many books of adventure. They brought up thoughts of bucking bronchos, fights with Indians, and all the rest of the romance of the West. That this boy of about his own age could be a cowboy was really exciting. But he missed the woolly chaps and the sombrero. The boy was simply dressed in overalls, went barefooted and wore a heavy slouch hat.,

“Must have been fun,” was Jerry’s comment. “And if you’ve made a friend of Feather-in-the-Wind, you ought to be proud. He’ll be useful, too, as he’s the chief of that bunch of Apaches. Once an Indian is a friend, you know, he’s a friend for good.”,

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The other boy laughed. “My old man would whale the tar out of me if he caught me monkeying around up there.”