This time she did not need to wake her great-great-grandmother, who sat straight up in bed at the first sound.
"What's that?" whispered Letitia.
"Hush!" replied the other. "Injuns!"
Both the great-great-aunts were awake; they all listened, scarcely breathing. The yells came again, but fainter; then again, and fainter still. Letitia's great-great-grandmother settled back in bed again.
"Go to sleep now," said she. "They've gone away."
But Letitia was weeping with fright. "I can't go to sleep," she sobbed. "I'm afraid they'll come again."
"Very likely they will," replied the other Letitia coolly. "They come 'most every night."
The little great-great-aunt Phyllis laughed again. "She can't go to sleep because she heard Injuns," she tittered.
"Hush," said her sister Letitia, "she'll get accustomed to them in time."
But poor Letitia slept no more till four o'clock. Then she had just fallen into a sweet doze when she was pulled out of bed.