The mother had been very ill, and the question was, where shall we take her so that she may get thoroughly well? It must be some place where the family might accompany her. She had declared that she would not go without papa and Nellie and Walter.

It was nearing the close of schooltime, and papa's yearly vacation was at hand, so there would be no difficulty on that score. Some one had suggested Santa Monica as affording a complete change of scene, but the doctor tabooed that place and she herself did not care for it.

"She is already too near the sea," the man of medicine said. "She needs entire change; she would only grow ill again and nervous amid the clatter of hotel life and the crowds on the beach."

"But we might take a cottage," suggested Aunt Mary.

"Yes—I know those seaside cottages," said the doctor, "that is, those which are built to rent for the season. A few boards thrown together, and only a pretence made of papering the walls inside—draughts rushing through the rooms continually and underneath the house as well. Why, my dear sir, you can actually see the carpet rising in waves from the floor. They are all erected on piles, you know. No seaside cottage for our invalid—no, indeed."

"What do you say to the mountains, doctor?" asked Mr. Page.

"The very thing," was the reply. "But there are objections to be made in that case also. Accommodations are not usually comfortable—the food is always plentiful, but not always choice."

"I was thinking of camping," said Mr. Page. "I have a complete camping outfit and at my call a man, Charlie Dorner, who is the prince of cooks. He is, besides, a fine general utility man—can do anything."

"That would be the ideal; but," sighed the doctor, "I wish I could go along."

"And so you can; or join us later."

"Well, we'll see about that. Just now we're talking of Mrs. Page. If you have an outfit of your own you need not be at anybody's mercy. But you must not choose too high a location, nor where it is likely to be too warm, nor an utterly inaccessible place. By that I mean she must not be too far from the railroad—or her doctor. What do you say to the Springs? I have an idea that the air and the hot water together would complete her cure."

"The air!" exclaimed Aunt Mary. "Why, it is only fourteen miles from here; there can't be any difference in the atmosphere. Besides, those springs are in a valley; you can't have seen them. The fogs are dreadful in the early morning I have been told."

"Not at my Springs," said the doctor with a smile. "I'm speaking of Warner's Ranch, although I've stayed at the others and have seen wondrous cures effected there, I assure you."

Aunt Mary had not been long in California, but she was fond of "reading up," and she had been reading about Warner's Ranch.

"Do you mean the springs which belong, or were supposed to belong, to the Indians, from whose possession they are now going to be taken?"

"Yes," replied the doctor; "and I think the whole proceeding is an infamous outrage."

Nellie and Walter had been sitting quietly listening to their elders. But at this point in the conversation Walter, who was thirteen, exclaimed:

"Oh, papa, let us go there, won't you?

"Just think, Aunt Mary," he continued, "it is a regular Indian village, and in the summer the Indians move out of their houses and rent them to the white people. I knew a boy who lived in one, and he said it was fine. Wouldn't it be grand making believe to be an Indian!"

"I sympathize with those poor creatures very much," said Aunt Mary. "I think it is heartless to evict them from their homes; but I don't believe I should care to occupy one of the houses. It might not be clean, you know."

"Well, that's as may be," said the doctor. "I have known persons loud in their praises of the place, and others whining about dirt and discomfort. You would not be subject to anything of that kind. You would have your large, clean, comfortable tents."

"Let's tell mother. Let's ask her if she would like to go," said Nellie, speaking for the first time.

"Of course she'll like it; she's certain to like it," cried Walter, springing to his feet. They were not long in ascending the stairs, though they went quietly, having become accustomed to making as little noise as possible during their mother's long and serious illness. Now that she was so much better they had not renounced the habit, which had become a sort of second nature to them.

"Come in," said a sweet, low voice as Nellie tapped on the door. In a moment they were both kneeling beside the lounge where their mother lay.

"You don't feel very bad this afternoon, mamma?" inquired Walter, anxiously.

"Oh, no," she replied. "On the contrary, I am feeling particularly well and strong to-day. But the doctor says I must lie down the greater part of the time. I thought I heard his voice just now. Hasn't he gone yet?"

"No; that's why we came, mother," said Nellie. "They're discussing things in the library. They think now they'll take you to Warner's Hot Springs, and we want you to go there, we do, badly. Oh, it will be great fun."

"Papa is talking of getting out the tents and the camping wagon and taking Charlie Dorner along. Oh, it will be lots of fun. I hope you like the plan."

"I am sure I shall like it," replied their mother. "I am very fond of camping. Don't you remember the summer we spent at Broad Beach?"

"Yes, that was lots of fun," said Walter. "But that wasn't anything to what this will be. Fancy, mother, an Indian village—a real Indian one. And you can live in their houses if you want to—though Aunt Mary says she doesn't believe they are very clean."

"We would have our tents," said Nellie. "Dr. Madden says he thinks the water would do you a great deal of good, mother."

"I feel better already," said the mother, sitting up and smoothing back her hair. "I want to start at once."

They all laughed, and presently the children were seated beside her, each holding a hand, wondering when everything would be in readiness for the start.

"We don't have to get any new clothes, do we?" inquired Nellie, to whom the bugbear of a summer outfit was receding into the background.

"No; we shall wear our oldest things," replied the mother. "Still, we shall not aim to make scarecrows of ourselves, my dear, as some people really seem to do when they go camping."

The children laughed again. "As though you could make a scarecrow of yourself!" exclaimed Nellie, looking fondly at her fair, delicate mother in her dainty white wrapper, and shoulder shawl of soft, scarlet wool.

"But suppose they would put the Indians out while we are there; then what would we do, mother?" asked Nellie. "I couldn't bear to be near and see it," said the tender-hearted child. "I think it's dreadful, don't you, mother?"

"Yes, it is," rejoined her mother. "Yet it does not seem possible to avoid it."

"Tell us about it, mother, will you?" pleaded Walter. "There has been much fuss over it in the papers. Why do the Indians have to go away from this place where they have lived so long?"

Mrs. Page reflected for a moment before replying. Then she said:

"I can't remember all the details, and you would not be interested in them if I could; but as nearly as I know the facts of the case I shall try to relate them to you.

"Many years ago Col. Juan JosÉ Warner received a grant of immense tracts of land from the Mexican government. On these lands, or part of them, some tribes of Indians were then living. They and their forefathers had lived there for many years. It was a provision of the grants or patents given by the Mexican government that the 'mission Indians' were never to be disturbed. In nearly all cases their rights were respected. Do you understand, dear children?"

Walter nodded, but Nellie said: "Mamma, how was it that the Mexican government granted lands to people in California?"

"Why, don't you know that California was once part of Mexico?" inquired Walter, with a little air of superiority.

"I believe I used to, but maybe I have forgotten it," murmured Nellie, quite discomfited, as she always was when her brother asserted his better knowledge of history and current events.

"Well, mamma, what next?" inquired the boy. "We don't want to 'lose the thread.' That's what our teacher says when the scholars' attention seems to wander."

"After some time," resumed Mrs. Page, "this tract of land, known by the name of Warner's Ranch, was sold to Governor Downey, who did not molest the Indians. There were several tribes besides those who lived at the Hot Springs. But later there was a lawsuit, and many endeavors were made to eject them, on the ground that they had only occupied the land after it had been granted to Warner.

"This lawsuit has been going on for many years. Recently it has been decided, very unjustly, most people think, that the Indians must go."

"But where are they to go?" asked Nellie, her round blue eyes opening with every word. "Where can they go?"

"The United States government will place them on some other reservation," said Mrs. Page. "A commission has been appointed to select one where the land is fertile and water plentiful. It will not be very long now, I think, before some place will be decided upon. It is a very good thing that every one on the commission is a friend of the Indians, and would allow them to remain in their present home if they could arrange it."

"Is Warner's Ranch a very large tract of land, mother?" asked Walter.

"Very large, my son."

"Why can't they let the Indians stay on their little bit of land, then? They haven't a great deal, have they?"

"Not much, compared with the extent of the whole tract. However, the owners of the ranch wish to derive profit from the springs, as the Indians are doing, only they would erect wooden buildings and make many improvements. They wish to make the springs a popular resort."

"I'd never go there if they did, never!" said Nellie. "How can the government be so unjust as to put those Indians out, when they have always lived there?"

"It seems that when the tract was originally sold the Indians should have presented their claim to the portion they occupied. As they did not do that, after a certain number of years their rights were forfeited. That is the law."

"Why didn't they present their claims?" asked Walter.

"Simply, my son, I suppose, because they were ignorant of the requirements of the law. They had lived there always; they could not remember having heard of a time when their forefathers had not lived there. They did not dream they would ever be disturbed. And so it came to pass that when they were informed steps had been taken to eject them they paid no attention to it."

"Why didn't they get a lawyer to attend to it for them?"

"After some time they did. There were able lawyers employed on both sides. The suit has lasted for many years, has been taken from one court to another, and now it has been finally decided that the Indians must go. I have heard that many of them still refuse to believe it."

"I call it a beastly shame," said Walter. "Why don't they fight?"

"What could a couple of hundred warriors do against the United States government?" replied Mrs. Page.

"I thought the Comanches and Apaches, and those Indian tribes liked to fight just for the sake of fighting," said Nellie.

"That is probably true," replied Mrs. Page; "but our California Indians are neither Comanches nor Apaches, my dear. They have always been peaceful, and have been called the 'mission Indians' from the time of the first establishment of the Spanish Franciscans at San Diego. The Warner Ranch Indians are called CupeÑos, from Cupa, the name given to the hot springs. Comfortable and happy they were while under the control of the mission Fathers; but since the time that the missions were abolished and the priests scattered things have been very different. That was after the Mexican War, about which you both know something, I believe. Certainly Walter does."

"I'm very anxious to go, aren't you, mother?" asked Walter.

"Yes, if it has been decided that it will benefit me," said Mrs. Page. "I should like to start to-morrow if I could."

"Here they come—papa, Aunt Mary and the doctor," said Nellie, as footsteps were heard ascending the stairs; "I hope they haven't found many objections."

Everybody was smiling as they entered, and the doctor said: "Mrs. Page, no doubt the little ones have prepared you for our verdict. We have decided to send you to the hot springs. The sooner you are ready to start the better."