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diff --git a/14784.txt b/14784.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e095414 --- /dev/null +++ b/14784.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2042 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Timid Hare, by Mary Hazelton Wade, +Illustrated by Louis Betts + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Timid Hare
+ +Author: Mary Hazelton Wade + +Release Date: January 24, 2005 [eBook #14784] + +Language: English
+ +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TIMID HARE
*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original lovely illustrations. + See 14784-h.htm or 14784-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/7/8/14784/14784-h/14784-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/7/8/14784/14784-h.zip) + + + + + +TIMID HARE + +The Little Captive + +by + +MARY H. WADE + +Author of "Little Cousin Series", etc. + +Illustrated by Louis Betts + +Whitman Publishing Co. +Racine -- Chicago + +1916 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover Art] + + +[Frontispiece: Buffalo Rib was a Handsome Youth.] + + + +CONTENTS + + CAPTURED + BEFORE THE CHIEF + THE NEW HOME + HARD WORK + THE CHANGE + THE VISIT + THE MISCHIEF MAKER + THE HAPPY DAY + THE DOG FEAST + THE FESTIVAL + MOVING DAY + THE JOURNEY + THE MEDICINE MAN + THE WINTER HUNT + + + + +List of Color Plates + + + Buffalo Rib Was a Handsome Youth + + The Stone and Her Son Black Bull Were Hurrying Home + + "Sweet Grass, Listen to Me" [Missing from book] + + "I Soon Had a Fire Started" + + Black Bull Was Helpless + + Bent Horn's Mind Was Made Up + + They Looked With Wonder at the Medicine Man + + "Help Me, Great Spirit" [Missing from book] + + + + + + +CAPTURED + +Swift Fawn sat motionless on the river-bank. + +"Lap, lap," sang the tiny waves as they struck the shore. "Lap, lap," +they kept repeating, but the little girl did not heed the soft music. +Her mind was too busy with the story White Mink had told her that +morning. + +After the men had started off on a buffalo hunt Swift Fawn had left the +other children to their games in the village and stolen away to the +favorite bathing place of the women-folk. + +"No one will disturb me there," she had said to herself, "and I want to +be all by myself to think it over." + +After she had been there for sometime. Swift Fawn drew out from the +folds of her deerskin jacket a baby's sock, and turned it over and over +in her hands curiously. Never had she seen the like of it before. How +pretty it was! Who could have had the skill to weave the threads of +scarlet silk in and out of the soft wool in such a dainty pattern? Was +it--the child whispered the word--could it have been her mother? + +White Mink had always been so good to her, Surely no real mother could +have been more loving than the Indian woman who had watched over her +and tended her, and taught her from the time when Three Bears had +brought her, a year-old baby, to his wife. Where he found the little +one, he had never told. + +And so she was a white child. How strange it was! Yet she had grown +up into a big girl, loving the ways of the red people more and more +deeply for eight happy years. + +"Surely," thought the child, "I could not have loved my own parents +more than I do White Mink and Three Bears." + +"I wish--oh, so hard!" she added with a lump in her throat, "that White +Mink had not told me. I don't want to remember there ever +was--something different." + +With these last words Swift Fawn lifted the little sock and was about +to hurl it into the water, when she suddenly stopped as she remembered +White Mink's last words. + +"I give this shoe into your keeping," the woman had said solemnly. "I +have spoken because of my dream last night, and because of its warning +I bid you keep the shoe always." + +With a little sigh, Swift Fawn drew back from the edge of the stream +and replaced the shoe in the bosom of her jacket. Then she stretched +herself out on the grassy bank and lay looking up into the blue sky +overhead. How beautiful it was! How gracefully the clouds floated by! +One took on the shape of a buffalo with big horns and head bent down as +if to charge. But it was so far away and dreamlike it was not fearful +to the child. And now it changed; the horns disappeared; the body +became smaller, and folded wings appeared at the sides; it was now, in +Swift Fawn's thoughts, a graceful swan sailing, onward, onward, in the +sky-world overhead. + +The little girl's eyes winked and blinked and at last closed tightly. +She had left the prairie behind her and entered the Land of Nod. + +She must have slept a long time, for when she awoke the sun had set, +and in the gathering darkness, she was aware of a man's face with +fierce dark eyes bent over her own. + +"Ugh! Ugh!" the man was muttering. "It is a daughter of the Mandans. +A good prize!" + +As he spoke he rose to his feet and Swift Fawn, shaking with fear, knew +that he was beckoning to others to draw near. A moment afterwards she +was surrounded by a party of warriors. They were taller than the men +of her own tribe, and were straight and noble in shape, but their faces +were very stern. + +"They must belong to the 'Dahcotas,'" thought the child. "And they are +our enemies." + +Many a tale had Swift Fawn heard of the fierce Dahcotas, lovers of war +and greatly to be feared. It was a terrible thought that she was alone +and in their power, with the night coming on. + +"Ugh! What shall we do with her?" the brave who had discovered her +said to the others. + +"She is fair to look upon," replied one. + +"But she is a Mandan," was the quick answer of another. As he spoke he +looked proudly at the scalp lock hanging from his shoulder, for he and +his companions has just been out on the war path. + +"Let our Chief decide," said the first speaker. "It is best that Bent +Horn should settle the question." + +"Ugh! Ugh!" grunted the others, not quite pleased at the idea. +However, they said nothing more, and turned away, moving softly with +their moccasined feet to the place where their horses were restlessly +waiting to go on with the journey. + +Swift Fawn's captor now seized her hand, saying gruffly, "Get up." + +Dragging her to his horse's side, he lifted her up, bound her to the +animal's back, leaped up after her and a moment afterwards the whole +party were galloping faster and faster into the night. + +Hour after hour they traveled with never a stop. At last, by the light +of the stars. Swift Fawn knew that she was nearing a large camp, made +up of many tent-homes. + + + + +BEFORE THE CHIEF + +As the party entered the camp the dogs came +out to meet them, barking in delight at +their masters' return. Swift Fawn's captor rode +up with her to the largest of the tents, or tepees +as the Dahcotas called them. Springing from +his horse, he unbound the little girl, and again +seizing her hand, drew the scared child into the +lodge. + +A bright fire was blazing in the fireplace, for +the night was cold. + +Beside it squatted a noble-looking brave, +wrapped in a bear-skin robe, and with eagles' +feathers waving from the top of his head. Chains +of wampum hung around his neck and his face +was painted in long, bright lines. + +Not far from him sat a beautiful and richly-dressed +young girl, his daughter. She looked +kindly at Swift Fawn as if to say: "Do not fear, +little girl." + +"Behold, a child of the Mandans. I give her +into your hands, great Chief," said Swift Fawn's +captor to the brave by the fireside. + +Bent Horn seemed in no hurry to speak, as +he looked keenly at the child who could not lift +her eyes for fear. + +"Is the girl of the weak Mandans to live, or to +be a slave among our people?" asked the warrior. + +Bent Horn was about to answer, as his +daughter broke in: "Father, let her live. I wish +it." + +The Chief turned toward the young girl with +love in his eyes. He smiled as he said, "Sweet +Grass shall have her wish." + +His face became stern, however, as he added: +"That shrinking creature must be trained. Give +her into the keeping of The Stone, and let this +girl henceforth be known as Timid Hare." + +As Bent Horn spoke he motioned to Swift +Fawn's captor to take her away, and the man at +once led her out of the lodge and through the +camp to a small tepee on the outskirts, where +the old woman, The Stone, lived with her +deformed son, Black Bull. + + + + +THE NEW HOME + +Drawing aside the heavy buffalo-skin curtain which covered the doorway, +the man shoved his little captive inside and followed close behind her. + +"Ugh, Timid Hare," he said scornfully. "This is your new home. Does +it please you?" + +The child shuddered without answering, as she mustered courage to look +about her. The fire on the hearth in the middle of the tepee was +smouldering. With the help of its dim light the little girl could see +piles of dirty buffalo robes on either side; the walls of the tent, +also made of buffalo skins, were blackened by smoke. Long shadows +stretching across the floor, seemed to take on fearful shapes in the +child's fancy as the low fire, now and then, gave a sudden leap upward. +Furthermore, the tepee was empty,--no face looked out from any corner; +no voice spoke to the new-comers. + +"Ugh!" The man shrugged his shoulders as he grunted in displeasure. +He was in haste to get to his own lodge where a supper of bear steak +was no doubt awaiting him. + +"Where can The Stone be that she is not here, now that darkness covers +the earth?" he muttered. "And the crooked boy away too!" + +The sentence was barely ended when the sound of quick, soft footsteps +could be heard outside. The Stone and her son, Black Bull, were +hurrying home. They had been gone all day, having gone to a clay pit +miles away from the village to get a certain clay for making red dye +with which The Stone wished to color some reeds for basket weaving. +Night had taken then by surprise, and wolves howling in the distance +made them travel as fast as the poor deformed youth could go. + +[Illustration: The Stone and her son Black Bull were hurrying home.] + +The Stone was the first of the two to enter the lodge. She was bent +and wrinkled, and her cunning, cruel eyes opened wide with surprise as +she saw her visitors. + +"Ugh! what does this mean?" she asked sharply, as she looked from the +brave to the cowering child still held in his strong grip. "Are you +bringing a daughter of the pale-faces into my keeping?" She ended with +a wicked laugh. + +"Not much better--it is a child of the Mandans who fell into my hands. +Better to kill her at once--a goodly scalp that!" With the words the +man pointed to his captive's long and beautiful hair. + +He continued: "But Bent Horn says, No. Let The Stone take her into her +keeping. So it is then--Timid Hare, shall draw water for you and wait +upon you and your son." + +Black Bull, who had followed close upon his mother, stood staring at +the captive with wild eyes. The poor fellow was small-witted, as well +as deformed. He was eighteen years old, yet he had no more +understanding than a small child. His face was not cruel like his +mother's, however. His eyes were sad and spoke of a longing for +something--but what that something was even Black Bull himself did not +understand. + +As the little girl looked at him a tiny hope leaped up in her heart. +"He will not be unkind to me, at any rate," she decided. "And I am +sorry for him that he has such a mother." + +Following close upon this thought came another. It was of White +Mink--dear, kind White Mink who was perhaps at this very moment weeping +over the loss of her little Swift Fawn. + +"But there is no Swift Fawn--she is dead, dead, dead. There is now +only Timid Hare, the slave of a wicked woman."--The child shuddered at +the thought. She came to herself to hear The Stone saying, + +"Leave her to me and I will train her in the good ways of the +Dahcotas." The man smiled grimly and went his way, and the woman +turning to her charge said: "Come, don't stand there cowering and +useless. Busy yourself. Pile wood upon the fire and put water in that +kettle. My son and I are hungry and would eat, and the meat must yet +be cooked." + +With The Stone's words came a blow on Timid Hare's shoulder. It was +the first one the child had ever felt, and though it did not strike +hard upon the body, it fell with heavy weight upon her aching heart. + +Stumbling about, she tried to do the old squaw's bidding, and the two +soon had the supper ready. The Stone now served her son on his side of +the fireplace, after which she herself began to eat her fill while +Swift Fawn sat huddled in a dark comer, hungrily watching. + +"Take that," the woman said as she finished her meal, and she threw a +half-picked bone to the little girl. Then she got up, put away +whatever food was left from the supper, and began to spread out some +buffalo skins, first for her son's bed on his side of the tepee, then +on her own side for herself to sleep on. + +"You can lie where you are," she told Timid Hare, pointing to the pile +of skins on which the child was crouching. + +Soon afterwards The Stone and Black Bull were quietly sleeping, while +the little captive, with tears rolling down her cheeks, lay thinking of +the kind friends far away and of the dreadful things that might happen +on the morrow. All at once she remembered the baby's sock hidden in +her dress, and of White Mink's words. Perhaps--perhaps--the sock would +help her. But how? She must guard it, at any rate; not even The Stone +should discover it. Kind sleep was already drawing near. The tired +eyes no longer shed tears. Till morning should come, Timid Hare was +free from trouble. + +HARD WORK + +The sun, shining into the tepee through the opening over the fireplace, +roused The Stone to her day's work. She lost no time in setting a task +for her little slave. Handing her a needle carved from the bone of a +deer and thread made of a deer's sinew, she hade her sew up a rent in +the skin curtain of the doorway. + +Poor Timid Hare! she had learned to embroider and to weave baskets in +the old home, but sewing on heavy skins had never yet fallen to her +share of the daily duties. "There will be time enough," White Mink had +thought, "when the little fingers have grown bigger and the tender back +is stronger." + +So now the hands were clumsy, and the stitches were not as even as they +should be. The Stone watched her with a scowl and frequent scoldings; +often an uplifted arm seemed ready to strike. But seeing that the +child was trying to do her best, the expected beating did not come. + +After she and Black Bull had eaten their own breakfast of bread made +out of wild rice, together with some buffalo fat, she gave a small +portion to Timid Hare. Then she and Black Bull went out of the lodge, +leaving the little girl alone at her work. + +How different--how very different--this home was from the one among the +Mandans! The old one was so big and comfortable, and there was such a +jolly household of parents and grandparents and uncles and aunts, and +children of all ages gathered together under one roof. Then, too, the +floor was so smooth and shiny, and the bedsteads, each one shut off by +a curtain and made pretty with fringe and pictures, seemed almost like +tiny sleeping rooms. Moreover, the banking of earth over the framework +of the lodge kept out the chill winds and biting cold of winter. + +But here, in The Stoned tepee, where the skin covering was old and +torn, one must often suffer. At least so thought Timid Hare as she +looked up now and then from her work to get acquainted with her new +home. + +"Besides, it is so small," she said to herself, "and only two people in +the whole household before I came. How strange it is!" + +It was quite true that the ways of the Dahcotas were unlike those of +the Mandans. Each family lived by itself and thus the home did not +need to be so large. Timid Hare did not know this, nor that the +people, as a rule, lived in great comfort. They preferred tents, +rather than houses like those of the Mandans, of frame-work covered +with earth because they liked to move from place to place and they +could thus carry their homes with them. Yet their tepees were warm and +comfortable because the covering of strong, thick buffalo skins was +generally double. Fires were kept burning on their hearths in winter +and supplies of food and clothing were easy to obtain from the wild +creatures of the woods and prairies. What more could any red people +wish? + +Timid Hare had heard her foster father tell much of the powerful +Dahcotas and that they were rich, as Indians count riches. + +"Why are they so powerful?" she now asked herself. "Ugh! it was +because of their fierce war spirit. It was this that made them drive +other tribes before them, so that they became free to roam over the +prairies and enjoy the richest hunting grounds." + +"I cannot help myself," now thought the child. "If I should run away, +the braves would either find and kill me, or I should be devoured by +the hungry wolves that go forth at nightfall." + +But might not Three Bears make up a war party and go forth to seek her? +"Alas! that may not be," Timid Hare told herself. "My dear father +would himself meet death at the hands of these cruel warriors." + +The rent in the curtain was nearly sewed up when Black Bull stole into +the lodge. He wanted to talk to the little stranger with eyes sad like +his own, and he did not wish his mother to know it. + +Behind Black Bull came his dog, wolfish-looking like most of his breed, +but as Black Bull squatted in his corner, the animal crouched close at +his master's side as though he loved him. + +"Poor fellow, he has a pet to follow him about just as I had at home," +thought Timid Hare. "Perhaps by-and-by the dog may learn to love me +too." There was a big lump in the little girl's throat, and she +coughed as she tried to choke it back. + +"Hard work," said Black Bull as he watched her pulling the coarse +thread through the buffalo skin and trying not to tear it. "Hard +work," he repeated. "Too bad." + +Timid Hare nodded. "Good dog," she ventured after a while, looking at +the dog with a sad little smile. "I had a dog; I loved him," she added. + +"Very good dog. He is my friend," replied the youth. "He goes with me +everywhere--everywhere. He makes me--not lonely. I call him Smoke." + +Black Bull put his arm lovingly around Smoke's neck and the dog whined +softly. It was the only way in which he could say, "I love you, poor +master, if no one else does." + +"My people are great people," Black Bull went on. "They are very +strong." Timid Hare nodded. "The Dahcotas are brave above all men. +Their bands are so many I could not count them." The very thought of +counting a large number made the simple-minded youth look puzzled. +"And they are tall and strong of body beyond the red men of all tribes." + +Again Timid Hare nodded. But she also shuddered as she thought that +she was in their power, a helpless captive. Then, as her eyes turned +towards Black Bull, they filled with pity. Here was one of the +Dahcotas, at least, who was not strong and tall and well-shaped. Nor +would he do her harm, she felt sure. + +Black Bull had turned to his lute which lay on the floor behind him and +begun to play a low, sweet tune when The Stone entered the lodge. She +looked sharply at Timid Hare, and then at the work which the little +girl had just finished. + +"Ugh! Ugh!" grunted the squaw. "You must learn to sew better than +that, you little cringing coward. Ah, ha! I know something that may +help you." The Stone cut the air with a switch that she held in her +hand. "Something else may also help you to gain the spirit of a red +woman. Of that, by-and-by. And now you shall fetch me fresh water +from the spring. Black Bull, put yourself to some use. Show the girl +where the water may be drawn." + +Handing an earthen crock to Timid Hare, she turned to her own +work--that of making dye out of the clay she had got the day before. + +Timid Hare, holding the big crock as carefully as possible on her +shoulder, followed Black Bull out of the tepee. It seemed good to be +outdoors, even in a village of the Dahcotas. In the doorway of the +next lodge stood a young woman with pleasant eyes and beautiful glossy +hair. She looked curiously at the little girl, for she had just heard +of her capture. She must have pitied the child, for she smiled kindly +at her. Black Bull, catching the smile, said, "The Fountain, this is +Timid Hare. Is she not strange to look upon--so fair? She must be +like the pale-faces I have never seen." + +The Fountain had no chance to answer, for Black Bull now turned to his +companion. "Hurry, Timid Hare, hurry, lest my mother be angry and beat +you." + +As the two went on their way, the little girl saw other children like +herself, playing together and laughing happily. One of them had her +doll, and was carrying it in a baby-cradle on her back. She was +pretending it was too small to walk, and was singing a lullaby to make +it go to sleep. + +All the children stopped to look at the little stranger. + +"A Mandan! Oof!" cried one. + +"Her hair is not black like ours," said another. + +"Nor is her skin as dark. She is more like the pale-faces whom we +hate," remarked a third. + +Then they turned to their play as if she were not worth noticing, and +poor little Timid Hare blushed for shame. It was hard indeed that even +the children should despise her. + +A little farther on she noticed a group of men dancing together in the +sunlight. They were much taller than the Mandan braves, and noble to +look upon, as Black Bull had said. But to the little girl holding in +mind the capture of the day before, they seemed cruel and fearful even +now while they were dancing. + +"The Dahcotas dance much--always," explained Black Bull, pointing to +the men. "We have many, many dances. For everything there is a dance. +When we feast, and before we hunt, when councils are held, when guests +come among us, we dance. It is a noble thing to dance. Sometimes," he +went on, "it is too make us laugh. Sometimes it is to make our faces +grow long--so!" + +At this Black Bull's face took on a look of sadness as though he were +grieving. + +Timid Hare was used to the dances of the Mandans, and she loved them. +But they were not so many as those of the Dahcotas, she felt sure. +Why, the night before, whenever she wakened, she heard the sound of +dancing in different lodges in the village. + +"There is the spring. Now I go," said Black Bull, pointing it out +half-hidden in a hollow shaded by clumps of bushes. The youth, with +Smoke who had followed close at his heels ever since leaving the lodge, +turned back and Timid Hare stooped down to fill the crock. + +As she did so her eyes met a pair of large black ones fastened upon her +own, and just above the water's edge. They belonged to the chief's +only son Young Antelope, who had come for a drink of cool water before +going off on a hunting trip. He was a handsome youth. As he lay +stretched out on the grassy bank above the spring he had heard the +sound of Timid Hare's steps as she drew near, and looked up to see who +it was. + +"Oof! the stranger," he said, but he did not scowl like the little +girls whom the little captive had passed a few minutes before. + +The next minute he had sprung to his pony's back and gone galloping +away. Timid Hare thought sadly of the dear foster-brother far away on +the wide prairie, as she trudged back with her load to the tepee where +The Stone awaited her. + + + + +THE CHANGE + +"Bad," scolded the squaw as she looked into the crock and saw that some +of the water had been spilled on the way home. + +She reached for her willow switch and used it twice on Timid Hare's +back. + +"I have a nice little task for you," she said. "Do you see this?" She +pointed to a dish full of a dull red dye. "It is for you," she +continued. "No more pale-faces about us now. You are to take this dye +and paint yourself--every part of your body, mind you. Then, when you +have used this on your hair--" she pointed to a smaller dish containing +a black dye--"we may be able to make a Dahcota out of you after all." + +"Waste no time," she commanded, as Timid Hare turned slowly to the +dishes of dye. "I leave you now for a little while and when I come +back--then I may like to look at you." + +The Stone left the lodge and Timid Hare was left to change herself so +that even White Mink would not know her. Trained as she had been in +the ways of all Indians, her tears fell often as she covered her body +with the paint. She dare not leave one spot untouched, nor one tress +of the beautiful hair that had been White Mink's pride. When the work +was at last finished, there was no mirror in which to look at herself. + +Once--just once, during her eight years of life among the Mandans, she +had seen a looking-glass. It was no larger than the palm of her small +hand, and belonged to the chief into whose hands it had come from a +white hunter years before. It was such a wonderful thing! Timid Hare +thought of it now and wished that she might see the picture that it +would of herself reflect. + +"When I am next sent to the spring," she thought, "I will seek the +quiet little pool where some of the water lingers. Then, if the clouds +give a deep shadow, I can see the Timid Hare I now am." + +"Good," muttered The Stone when she returned and examined her little +slave. But when Black Bull noticed the change, he said nothing--only +looked sad. Perhaps he felt that the little stranger had somehow lost +herself. + + + + +THE VISIT + +One day, soon after Timid Hare's coming, she was sent to the chief's +tepee on an errand. The Stone and she had been gathering rushes for +the chief's daughter Sweet Grass who wished them for a mat she was +weaving. It was to be a surprise for her father; she meant it to be so +beautiful that he would wish to sit on it at feasts when entertaining +chiefs of other bands. + +The Stone and Timid Hare had spent many hours searching for the most +beautiful rushes, and the old squaw was pleased at having succeeded at +last. + +"Sweet Grass's mother will give me much bear meat for getting the +rushes for her daughter," she thought. But to Timid Hare she only +said: "Take these to the home of our chief and place them in the hands +of Sweet Grass. Make haste, for she may already be impatient." + +The Stone did not know that Sweet Grass had ever seen Timid Hare, nor +that she had begged her father for the child's life. + +The little girl was glad to go. She had thought many times of the +chief's daughter, and of her kind face and gentle voice. Whenever she +had gone near Bent Horn's tepee she had been on the lookout for Sweet +Grass, but she had not been able to get a glimpse of her. + +As Timid Hare trudged along with her load she thought of that dreadful +night after her capture. "I think I would have died of fright but for +the sight of the chief's beautiful daughter," she said to herself. +"But after she spoke, my heart did not beat so hard." + +Now, however, as she neared the chief's lodge, she began to breathe +more quickly. The chief had such power! The Stone said ugly words to +her and did not give her enough to eat; sometimes she beat her; but she +would not do her terrible harm because the chief had given the order: +Care for the child. Suppose he should change his mind! + +Trembling, Timid Hare stopped in front of the lodge. + +"Come in. I am waiting for you," called a sweet voice, for Sweet +Grass, looking up from her work, had caught a glimpse of the little +girl standing outside with her bundle. + +Timid Hare's heart leaped for joy. It was so good to have some one +speak kindly to her once more. And the young girl who had spoken was +so lovely to look upon! Her eyes shone like stars. Her long hair was +bound with a coronet made out of pretty shells. Her robe of deer skin +was trimmed with long fringe. Her moccasins, cut differently from +those of the Mandans, were bound into shape with ribbons made of rabbit +skin. Around her neck were many chains that made pleasant music as +they jingled against each other. + +While Timid Hare was peeping out of the corners of her eyes at this +beautiful sight. Sweet Grass was in her turn examining the little +captive. + +"You are--changed," she said slowly. "What has The Stone been doing? +Ugh! I see. She has tried to make a Dahcota out of you. Well, it may +be well, and yet, I think I liked you better as you were before." + +"Lay the rushes here, beside me," she continued. "And now, little +Timid Hare, tell me about The Stone. Is she good to you? And Black +Bull--does he treat you well?" + +Sweet Grass was tender as a sister as she asked these questions and +many others. And Timid Hare's tongue slowly became brave. She told of +the hard work which The Stone made her do. She showed scars on her +hands which the work had left. And--yes--there were also scars on the +little back from the cruel touch of The Stone's switch. + +But Black Bull--poor Black Bull! The child spoke of him with loving +pity. "I am sorry for him," she said. "He has only his dog to make +him happy." + +"Would you like to live with me?" asked Sweet Grass, when the story was +finished. + +"Oh-h!" The little girl drew a long sigh of wonder and delight. If +only it were possible! + +"We will see. I will talk to my father by-and-by. And now you must +run home. Good-by." The young girl bent over her work and Timid Hare +ran swiftly out of the lodge and back to The Stone who was angrily +waiting. + +"You must have stopped on the way, you good-for-nothing. Sweet Grass +could not have kept you all this time," she scolded. + +The little girl made no answer. + +"Hm! has the child won the heart of the chief's daughter?" she +muttered. "And next it would be the chief himself. That must not be. +Moreover, no bear meat was sent me. Ugh!" + + + + +THE MISCHIEF MAKER + +That afternoon the sun shone brightly. It was a beautiful day of the +late Indian summer. Sweet Grass, taking the mat she was weaving, left +the lodge and sought a pleasant spot near the spring to go on with her +work. + +The Stone had been skulking about near the chief's lodge for several +hours. She wanted to catch Sweet Grass alone and yet as if she had +come upon her by accident. + +She stealthily watched the young girl as she made her way to the +spring, but did not appear before her for some time. When she did, she +held some fine rushes in her hands. + +"I have just found more. You will like them, Sweet Grass," she said, +trying to make her harsh voice as soft as possible. + +The chief's daughter had never liked The Stone; and now, after hearing +Timid Hare's story, it was not easy to act friendly. + +"For the child's sake, I must not show my dislike," she thought +quickly. So she smiled, and looking at the rushes, said, "These are +good, very good. I can use them for my mat." + +She turned to her work while The Stone stood silent, watching her. +Then, suddenly, the old squaw bent over her and said, "Sweet Grass, +listen to me. I sent the child of the Mandans to you this morning. +She is bad--lazy--very lazy. Your father gave her into my keeping and +I will train her, though it is hard. No one else would be patient with +her wicked, lying ways. No one!" + +The Stone stopped as suddenly as she had begun. She hoped that she had +succeeded in making Sweet Grass believe that the little captive was as +bad as she had said. + +"Why do you talk? I do not care to listen to you," said the young +girl, looking up into the ugly face bending over her. Then she went on +with her weaving as though she were alone. There was nothing left for +The Stone but to go on her way, muttering. + +"After this," she promised herself, "Timid Hare shall go little from my +sight. I need her to do my bidding and save my steps. She must not be +taken from me through any foolish fancy that Sweet Grass may have taken +for her." + + + + +THE HAPPY DAY + +That evening the chief, Bent Horn, sat by his fireside, smoking with +his friends. Close beside him was his handsome son. On the women's +side of the lodge Sweet Grass and her mother squatted, listening to the +stories of the men. As the hours passed by, the visitors rose one by +one and went home for the night's sleep. When the last one had gone +Sweet Grass got up from her place and held out to her father the mat +she had been making for him. A pretty picture had been woven into the +rushes; it had taken all the young girl's skill to do it. + +"For you, my father," said Sweet Grass. + +The chief smiled. He was proud of his young son who gave promise of +becoming a fine hunter. But he was also proud of this one daughter. +He loved her so dearly that he could not bear to say, No, to anything +she might ask of him. + +"My father," now said Sweet Grass, "I wish to speak to you of the child +Timid Hare whom you gave into the keeping of The Stone." + +The chief scowled. "That pale-faced daughter of the cowardly Mandans? +She may thank you that she still lives," he said sternly. + +"But I have seen her and talked with her, my father, and she has won my +heart. I want her to live with me and serve me. Will you let it be +so?" + +There was no answer. + +"And she no longer makes one think of the pale-faced Mandans. Her skin +is now dark with paint so that she looks even as we do." The voice of +Sweet Grass was tender with pleading. + +"I saw her at the spring one day," broke in young Antelope. "The +hump-back, Black Bull, had just left her. Her eyes spoke fright, but +also a good temper. Let my sister have her wish." + +The chief turned to his wife. In matters of the household the Indian +woman generally has her will. + +"Let the child come and serve Sweet Grass," said the squaw who had a +noble face and must once have been as beautiful as her daughter. + +"You shall have your wish." Bent Horn spoke as though not wholly +pleased; but when he saw the delight his words gave Sweet Grass, his +face showed more kindness than his voice. + +Two days afterwards a messenger from Bent Horn appeared in The Stone's +doorway. + +"I bring you word from our chief," he told her. "The captive, Timid +Hare, is to return with me. She will serve the maiden Sweet Grass." + +The Stone's ugly eyes filled with anger. Yet she did not dare refuse +the command of the chief. + +"Go," she said turning to Timid Hare, who was busy at one side of the +lodge pounding wild rice into flour. "Go, you cowardly +good-for-nothing. Let the chief discover what I have borne." + +Timid Hare was almost overcome with delight. To serve the beautiful +maiden, Sweet Grass! It seemed too good to be true. + +Yet it must be true, for The Stone, with uplifted arms, was fairly +driving her from the lodge as she would a troublesome mosquito. + +As the little girl passed through the doorway she met Black Bull +entering, with Smoke at his heels. Over the youth's eyes swept a cloud +of fear at the unusual brightness in the little girl's face. He felt +instantly that she was going to leave him. Sad as she had been, she +had brought a little sunshine into the dreary home. + +"Good-bye, Black Bull," she whispered. "I will not forget you." Then, +without a last glance at The Stone, she hurried on after the messenger +who had come for her. + +When she reached the chief's lodge, there was Sweet Grass waiting for +her with a kind smile. The maiden's mother, whom she had never seen +before, was also in the lodge. The squaw was busily cooking the +evening meal like any other red woman, though her husband was the chief +of the whole band. + +Sweet Grass had just motioned to the little girl to take her place +beside her, when Young Antelope burst into the tepee. The day before +he had gone hunting, and when night came had not appeared. His mother +and sister had worried at his absence, but the chief had said, "We will +not fear. The lad has no doubt lost his way. But he knows how to care +for himself." + +And now Young Antelope stood once more in the home, safe and happy! He +had had an exciting adventure, and was eager to tell of it. Yes, he +had lost his way out on the prairies. He was ashamed of this, for he +had been taught that an Indian should always watch the winds and the +heavens, and carefully mark every change in the appearance of the +country over which he travels; then it is an easy matter to find his +way back without trouble. + +But his pony was fleet of foot, and the birds he was seeking flew fast. +After many, many miles had been covered and his game bag had been +filled, he decided to return. But he was hungry; he thought of the +tender birds he had killed and of the feast they would make. + +"I will rest for awhile and cook some of the game," he decided. + +All this he now told his mother on his return home. So eager was he to +describe his adventure that he did not notice the little stranger +squatting beside Sweet Grass, and looking at him with admiring eyes. + +"I soon had a fire started," he continued, "and then began to roast my +game. Ugh! the feast was a fine one. But after it was over, I began +the search for home. Then darkness fell suddenly and fast gathering +clouds covered the setting sun. I was alone and far from you all. I +could hear wolves howling in the distance. They were hungry as I had +been." + +[Illustration: "I soon had a fire started."] + +The youth shivered. Then he went on: "But I remembered how to keep +wolves from drawing too near. They do not love fire. I piled the +brush high, and flames leaped up in the air. All night long I did +this, and now, my mother and my sister, I am with you once more. No +harm befell me." + +"You did well, my son," replied his mother. That was all, but her eyes +shone with pride and gladness. So did those of Sweet Grass who +exclaimed, "Those fearful wolves! How I hate them! But you are safe. +They did not devour you; that is enough." + + + + +THE DOG FEAST + +Soon after Timid Hare went to live in Bent Horn's lodge to serve his +beautiful daughter, there was a good deal of excitement in the village. +Messengers had come from other bands of the Dahcotas saying that their +chiefs were about to make a visit to Bent Horn. They wished to talk +over important matters in regard to the good of the whole tribe. + +Both braves and squaws were busy preparing for the great time. There +would be dances and feasts, games and wrestling matches. The warriors +must make ready their best garments and noblest head-dresses. They +must use much grease and paint to look as grand as possible when +receiving their guests. + +Sweet Grass and her mother had much to do getting ready for the +celebration, and Timid Hare tried her best to help. She ran errands, +pounded rice, brought wild sweet potatoes and dried berries from the +pit in which the stores of food were buried, and tended the fire in +which buffalo and bear meat were roasting, for much would be eaten +during the visit which would last several days at least. + +Sweet Grass smiled upon her little helper. So did her mother. Both of +them were pleased with the child, and came near forgetting that she was +not one of their own people. + +Then came the day when word was sent through the village that the +coming visit was to be celebrated by the Feast of the Dog. Different +families would be asked to sacrifice the dog dearest to their hearts. +Every one believed it would be a fit offering to the Great Spirit and +would fill his heart with tenderness for his red children. + +It would also bind the hearts of the chiefs more closely together. + +As Timid Hare went through the village one morning--it was the last one +before the visitors should arrive--she met Black Bull. It was the +first time she had seen him since she had gone from his lodge. As she +ran towards him he did not seem glad to see her. He simply looked at +her pitifully. + +"What is the matter, Black Bull? Is there trouble? Tell me. Everyone +else is happy over the coming good time." Timid Hare spoke fast. + +"My dog," he said brokenly. "My one friend must die. I must give him +as a sacrifice, so my mother has said." The poor fellow began to cry. + +"Your dear Smoke! I am so sorry for you, Black Bull." Timid Hare's +own eyes filled with tears. "So sorry," she repeated. + +"I will try to save him, though." The deformed youth looked wildly +about him as he spoke, as though he feared some one besides Timid Hare +would hear him. Then, without waiting for her to reply, he went off in +the direction of the spring, beyond which was a sharp bluff. Below +this bluff flowed a stream of water which in the autumn was deep--so +deep that any one could drown in it easily. + +"I wonder what Black Bull meant when he said he would try to save +Smoke," thought Timid Hare, as she stood watching. "He cannot save the +dog. How hard it is! No one in the village seems to care for Black +Bull. The Stone, his own mother, treats him cruelly. The dog is his +only friend, as he says. I will tell my young mistress about him. It +may be she can help him." + +As soon as Timid Hare had done her errand she ran home, still with the +thought of Black Bull's trouble in her mind. She had been in the tepee +only a few minutes before Sweet Grass noticed that something was the +matter with her little maid. + +"What has happened, Timid Hare?" she asked. "Your face is long--so!" +She drew her own mouth down at the corners and made herself look so +funny that Timid Hare, sad as she felt, broke into a laugh. + +"It is Black Bull," she answered. "He is in trouble. It is greater +than it would be with any one else in the village." + +Then she went on to speak of the youth's lonely life, and that even his +mother treated him badly. Only one loved him: this was the dog Smoke +who followed him wherever he went and who did not mock him as the +children of the village sometimes did. Smoke was ever ready to smile +at him in the one way dogs can--with his tail. It was Smoke's love +alone that made Black Bull glad to live. And now--Timid Hare's voice +broke as she went on to tell of what must soon happen. + +"Poor fellow!" said Sweet Grass softly. "Poor fellow," she repeated, +half to herself. + +As it happened, Young Antelope was in the lodge when Timid Hare was +telling the story. He was busy making a shield; he intended to wear it +when first allowed to go forth on a war party with the older braves. +But though he was busy at his work, he listened with interest to the +words of Timid Hare. + +Soon afterwards he left the tepee and ran along the path leading to the +spring. "If I see Black Bull," he thought, "I will speak kindly to him +even if he is such a useless creature." + +When Young Antelope reached the spring he heard some one talking +angrily. This was followed by a cry of fear. The sounds came from the +direction of the bluff beyond, but the youth could see no one because +of clumps of brush which shut off the view from any one at the spring +below. + +Young Antelope hurried along, till suddenly he caught a glimpse of two +figures on the very edge of the rocky summit of the bluff. One was +that of Thunder Cloud, a worthless fellow; the other which he held +struggling in his arms was that of The Stoned's deformed son. Black +Bull was helpless; he was at the mercy of Thunder Cloud who was about +to cast him into the stream below. + +[Illustration: Black Bull was helpless.] + +"What is this?" shouted Young Antelope. Thunder Cloud, startled, +turned suddenly about. + +"I would punish this worthless fellow as he deserves," he answered. +"Do you know what he dared to do? He brought his dog to yonder brush +and fastened him in the midst. He thought to keep the animal from the +sacrifice. Ugh! A wretched creature indeed. His mother bade me +follow him." + +"Make him free," said Young Antelope with the air of a mighty chief. +"My father will take care of him. As for you, go from my sight." + +Thunder Cloud, who had already set Black Bull on his feet, though he +still clutched him tightly, let go his hold, and skulked away. + +"Let your dog loose," Young Antelope now ordered Black Bull who stood +before him, still shivering from fright. "There! Now we will go to my +father and let him settle the matter. Follow me." + +Black Bull, with Smoke capering about him in the joy of being set free, +followed Young Antelope silently till the two neared the council house +where Bent Horn was busy planning for the coming celebration. There, +in the autumn sunlight, they waited till the chief should appear and +the son whom he loved dearly should have a chance to ask for a certain +boon. + +That night Black Bull went to sleep as happy as a king, even though his +mother had just given him a beating. Smoke was safe! Another, Young +Antelope, who had more treasures than he, was willing to make the +sacrifice in his place. + + + + +THE FESTIVAL + +The celebration was over and Timid Hare was tired out from excitement. +Never before had she seen so many wonders. Why, the chief of chiefs, +the chief of all the Dahcotas, had been one of the visitors and had +slept in Bent Horn's tepee. Timid Hare herself had helped to serve +him. And when he had gone forth to the council and to the feasts he +was the grandest looking person she had ever beheld in her life. He +wore a head-dress of war-eagle feathers. Thick and heavy was this +head-dress, and beautiful were the feathers beyond compare. The great +chief's face shone with grease, and was made fearful to look upon with +much paint. On his robe were pictured the many battles in which he had +taken part; it was trimmed with a heavy fringe of scalp-locks. His +leggings and moccasins were richly embroidered with porcupine quills. +He walked forth like a king. The children of the village trembled as +they gazed upon him. + +Bent Horn looked grand also in his own robes of state. Many a day had +his wife spent embroidering this robe with porcupine quills and +trimming it with fringes of his enemies scalp-locks. Heavy chains hung +around his neck. His long hair, which he had greased well, had been +divided into two parts and crossed on the top of his head, where it was +then gathered into a knot. + +"Bent Horn's head-dress is almost as handsome as that of the Great +Chief," Timid Hare said to herself, as she watched the two men walking +together towards the council house. + +The sun shone brightly throughout the whole celebration and the feasts +were spread outdoors. The chiefs and braves sat in a half-circle at +these feasts and the food was passed to them from steaming kettles. +There was bear meat in plenty, fat and rich; baked turtles; juicy +buffalo steaks and stews; but at the principal feast of all, only dog +flesh was served. + +Then it was that the people of the village gathered in crowds around +the feasters to watch and listen. Closest of all were the braves and +their sons. Back of them were the squaws and their little daughters. +Timid Hare, beside her young mistress Sweet Grass, listened with wonder +to the noble speeches of the chiefs. Bent Horn spoke first of all. + +"My brother," he said to the Great Chief, "our hearts are almost +bursting with gladness that you are with us today. + +"And you also"--Bent Horn continued, turning to one after another of +the lesser chiefs, "we welcome you with gladness and feel that the +Great Spirit has sent you to us. In token of our love we have killed +faithful dogs that you may feast. May the Great Spirit bind us closely +together. I say no more." + +As Bent Horn ended his speech he lifted before the eyes of the feasters +a carved necklace made of the claws of grizzly bears, and his own robe +of elk skins which he had just taken from his shoulders. Then he +slowly rose and, going to the side of the guest of honor, he laid the +gifts before him. Next, he took other gifts--embroidered moccasins and +leggings--and presented them to the lesser chiefs. + +For a moment all were silent. Then the guests themselves made +speeches, each one telling of his love for Bent Horn and his band, and +giving rich gifts in return. + +And now the pipe of peace was lighted and brought to Bent Horn. +Solemnly he pointed the stem to the north, the south, the east, and the +west. Last of all, he lifted it towards the sun. Then he spoke. +"How--how--how," he said slowly. Then in silence he smoked it, but +only to take one long whiff, after which he held it in turn to the +mouths of the other chiefs, that they might smoke it also. + +Not a word was spoken by any one during this solemn time. But as soon +as the last guest had smoked, the dog-meat, floating in rich gravy, was +brought from the steaming kettles and handed around in wooden bowls +among the guests. All ate their fill. Then silently, they got up and +went away. They had smoked and eaten the sacrifice together. Surely, +they thought, there could be no better token of their friendship for +each other. + +Timid Hare looked on from afar. She felt pride in her dear mistress's +brother who had given up his own pet dog, in place of Black Bull. She +was also filled with wonder at the greatness of the Dahcotas. + +"They are a mighty tribe," thought the little girl. She drew a long +breath of sadness, feeling that she could never hope to go from among +them. But when she afterwards looked on at the wrestling matches, +races on horseback, and dances such as she had never seen before, she +forgot everything else for the moment. Her eyes shone with excitement; +her breath came quick. Never before, it seemed to her, had she seen +such skill. + +When the entertainment of each day ended, however, and Timid Hare went +to her bed of buffalo skins, she would lie thinking of the old home, of +the loving White Mink, the kind Three Bears, and the good +foster-brother Big Moose. Then tears would roll down over the little +girl's cheeks and she would choke back a sob. + +"Can it be," she would think, "that the story White Mink told me before +I was taken from her, is true? Am I truly a white child, and is she +not my real mother?" Then the little captive would touch the baby's +sock fastened by a cord of deer-sinews about her waist and next to her +flesh. + +"It is safe," she would whisper to herself, "and no one here has +discovered it--not even The Stone. It did not save me from being +captured, but it may yet bring good fortune, even as White Mink hoped." + + + + +MOVING DAY + +The visitors had all gone away and the village was once more +quiet--that is, as quiet as it might be among the Dahcotas, the lovers +of the dance and of music. + +Now and then some of the braves went forth on a war-party, or on a hunt +after bears or buffaloes. But the buffaloes were scarce, they told +their chief; the herds must have wandered far, and the hunters often +returned empty-handed. This was bad, because the winter was drawing +near and supplies of meat were needed for that long season of bitter +cold. + +One morning Bent Horn rose earlier than usual and made his way to the +council house. There he staid for some time talking with the medicine +men and other leading braves of the village. + +Should there be a bear dance and a buffalo dance to call the attention +of the Great Spirit to the needs of His people, that He might send +plenty of prey nearer the village? Or should the band first move to a +different part of the country, where no red man dwelt and where the +buffaloes, at least, might be plentiful? + +When the talk was ended the men who had gathered at the council went +their way. Bent Horn's mind was made up. "My people must move to a +new camping ground," he said to himself. "We will journey to the +eastward. In that direction, the hunters say, we are likely to draw +near the feeding grounds of large herds of buffaloes. Tomorrow morning +at sunrise we must be on our way." + +[Illustration: Bent Horn's mind was made up.] + +The news was quickly carried from one tepee to another and the squaws +set to work with a will to prepare for moving. + +When Timid Hare heard the news she thought sadly: "Shall I go farther +than ever from my dear White Mink?" The little girl had been so +frightened at the time of her capture that she was not sure in which +direction she travelled. + +There was not a moment now, however, to consider herself, as Sweet +Grass and her mother kept the child helping them prepare for the +moving. The stores of grain and other dry food, the dishes and kettles +and clothing must be packed in readiness for the early start on the +morrow. + + + + +THE JOURNEY + +"Awake, Timid Hare, for there is a faint light in the eastern sky. The +sun is already rising from his bed." + +At these words from Sweet Grass, Timid Hare's eyes burst wide open and +she sprang from her bed. There was much to do at once, for the signal +must be given to the whole village from the home of Bent Horn. + +So quickly did his squaw and young daughter work that a half-hour +afterwards the walls of the chief's tepee were flapping in the morning +breeze. Immediately afterwards the same thing happened to every other +home in the village. Next, down came the tent poles of the chief's +tepee, and then those of all the others. + +Timid Hare went quickly here and there, obeying the orders of her +mistress. Ropes of skin must be brought to tie the poles into two +bundles. The little girl must help hold these bundles in place, while +Bent Horn's best pack horses were brought up and the bundles fastened +against the sides of their bodies, and at the same time allowed to drag +on the ground behind. + +"Quick, Timid Hare," Sweet Grass would say, pointing now to this bundle +of bedding, and now to another of dishes or clothing. The horses were +restless and the bundles must be well-fastened to the poles before they +should be ready to start. Some of Bent Horn's dogs were also loaded in +the same way. + +While Sweet Grass and her mother, with Timid Hare's help, were packing +their own stores every other woman in the village was doing the same. +In a wonderfully short time the procession was on its way, the squaws +leading the pack horses. When they started out, however, the braves +and youths, riding their favorite horses and ponies, were already far +ahead. + +Timid Hare trudged bravely along beside her young mistress who led one +of the pack horses. She carried a big bundle on her back. So did +Sweet Grass and her mother. So did all the other squaws except those +who were too old and feeble. + +"Let us move fast while we are fresh," Sweet Grass would say now and +then when Timid Hare began to lag. "When the day grows old, then is +the time to move like the turtle." + +As they travelled along. Timid Hare passed The Stone who looked at her +with ugly eyes. The old squaw was thinking, "Had it not been for my +sending the girl that day to Sweet Grass she would now be making my +load light. Fool that I was!" + +Afterwards Timid Hare and her mistress talked with The Fountain, the +pretty bride who lived near The Stone. The Fountain smiled pleasantly +at the little girl. She said, "Sometime, Timid Hare, you shall come to +see me in the new home. I may have a surprise for you." + +The sun had nearly set when word came down the line: "The chief has +chosen a place for the new camp. It is beside a stream of clear water +and the tracks of buffaloes are not far distant." + +Timid Hare was glad to hear the news, because her feet and back ached. +She was not strong as an Indian girl of her own age should be and she +knew it. "But I look like one," she said to herself. She was glad now +that her body was stained. She had colored it afresh of her own accord +just before the journey, for she felt she would not be jeered at by the +children of the Dahcotas so long as her hair and body were of the same +color as their own. + +When the new camping ground was reached, she was very tired. "But I +must not show it," she thought. "I must be bright and cheerful." So +she moved quickly, helping to set up the tepee and get supper for the +family. But her eyelids closed the moment she lay down to rest, and +she knew nothing more till the barking of the dogs roused her the next +morning. At the same time she heard Sweet Grass and her mother talking +together. + +"The Fountain was last seen when we stopped at a spring to get water in +the late afternoon," one of them was saying. + +"I hope she is safe," replied the other, "and that the gray wolf was +not abroad." + +Timid Hare shuddered. "Where can The Fountain be?" she wondered. "She +is so good and so pretty, I hope she is unharmed." + +The very next moment a neighbor appeared in the door. "The Fountain +has just reached us," she said. "She spent the night by the spring, +and she now brings with her a baby son. He is a lusty child. May he +grow up to be a noble warrior!" + +"I will go to her and give her my best wishes," declared the chief's +wife. "It is a good sign for the new home that one more is added to +our people." + +Soon afterwards Timid Hare and her young mistress were also on their +way to visit the young mother. She was very happy. So was her +husband. So was her baby; at least it seemed happy to Timid Hare as +she looked at it nestling quietly in its mother's arms. The little +girl longed for it to open its eyes. + +"By and by," The Fountain told her with a smile, "my son will awake. +But now he must sleep, for he finds this world a strange one, and he is +tired." + +"The Great Spirit has been kind to The Fountain," said Sweet Grass as +she walked homeward with her little maid. + +"How powerful He must be," declared Timid Hare thoughtfully. "Whenever +He speaks to us in the thunder and lightning I tremble with fear. But +when I looked at the little baby just now I felt His love." + + + + +THE MEDICINE MAN + +The next morning Timid Hare was allowed to go once more to visit The +Fountain and her little son. The baby lay fastened into a pretty frame +the young mother had made for him. The straps were embroidered with +porcupine quills, and finished very neatly. + +As Timid Hare entered the tepee, The Fountain was about to lift the +baby in his frame to her back. + +"I am going to see Black Bull," she said. "He is ill. He has not been +well since before the Dog Feast." + +Timid Hare at once thought of a reason for Black Bull's illness,--he +had worried much over the thought of losing his dog. But Young +Antelope had not told her that he came near losing his life and of his +terrible fright at the time. + +"Has the medicine man visited Black Bull?" asked Timid Hare. + +"Not yet." The Fountain shook her head sadly. "I doubt if The Stone +cares whether her son lives or dies. But I am going to see the poor +creature. Afterwards, if the medicine man has not been sought, I will +ask my husband to get his help." + +The Fountain started on her errand, and Timid Hare went back to the +chief's lodge to tell her young mistress what she had learned. On the +way she passed a clump of trees beneath which she saw several people +sitting and listening to the voice of a tall man who stood before them. +He was one of the most powerful medicine men of the band. + +"He must be speaking of some great mystery," thought Timid Hare. "How +noble he is! How much he must know! It may be that he is telling of +the secrets he reads in the fire." + +Turning her eyes towards the listeners, she saw they were thinking +deeply of his words. They looked with wonder at the medicine man. +"Yes, he must be speaking of the secrets no one but he can discover." + +[Illustration: They looked with wonder at the medicine man.] + +When Timid Hare reached home she spoke of this medicine man to her +mistress. "If only he could go to Black Bull, the sickness would leave +the poor fellow," she said. + +Soon afterwards Sweet Grass herself sought the medicine man. She +brought him presents of buffalo marrow, deer meat, and a juicy, +well-cooked land turtle. Then she asked his help for the deformed +youth, and he promised to go to him. + +The next day word came to the chief's lodge that Black Bull had gone to +join the people of the grave. Though the medicine man had gone to him +and worked his mysteries with songs and drum beating, the Great Spirit +had not willed that he should live. + +"Better so," declared Bent Horn, when the news was brought to the +lodge. "Black Bull was of no help to his people. He suffered, and was +not happy. Better so!" + +"I will take his dog," Sweet Grass promised her sad little maid. +"Smoke shall be cared for, though his master has left him." + + + + +THE WINTER HUNT + +The new home proved to be a good one. Each time the hunters went forth +they returned with a load of game. The squaws were kept busy drying +buffalo and bear meat, packing away the marrow and cleaning the bones +and skins. Every part of the animals was put to some use. + +The days of the long, cold winter were at hand, and all must work +busily. Timid Hare had much to do, but sometimes she was allowed to +play outside of the tepee with other children; they were kinder to her +now that she lived in the chief's home. She had plenty to eat, and +Sweet Grass and her mother treated her well, but she longed for +something that was lacking here but was freely given in the old home: +it was love. + +The snow fell thick and fast. It covered the prairie for miles in +every direction. In some places it was deeper than Timid Hare was +tall. A thick crust formed over the top. + +Young Antelope set to work to make himself new snowshoes. As he bent +the hoops for the frames and crossed them with networks of leather +strings. Timid Hare looked on with longing. She had had snowshoes of +her own before, and she had enjoyed skimming over the snow fields on +them, but they were far away--very far away. + +"I will help you make some shoes," Young Antelope told her, when he +caught the look. "You can do the easy part, and I will do the hard." + +Timid Hare was pleased because Young Antelope did not notice her very +often. The snowshoes were soon made and the little girl longed to try +them. + +The very next day Young Antelope went out with the men on a winter +hunt. There were large stores of meat in the village, but the cold was +bitter and more warm buffalo robes were needed for beds and coverlets. +Moreover, at this time of the year the fur of the animals was heaviest. + +"It will be easy to get our prey," Bent Horn said to his son the night +before the hunt. "There is little snow on the south slopes of the +hills, where the buffaloes will be feeding. We can take them by +surprise and drive them down into the ice-crusted fields. They are so +heavy that their feet will fall through. Then the hunter can draw near +on his swift snowshoes, and will pierce the heart of his prey with his +spear without trouble." + +"I will be such a hunter on the morrow," the youth had replied. "My +spear is already sharpened. It shall bring death to more than one of +the creatures that provide us with comfort through the moon of +difficulty," as he had been taught to call the month of January. + +As Young Antelope skimmed along over the snow fields next morning, he +thought more than once of the little captive at home. + +"She behaves well," he said to himself, "and she will be a good +homekeeper when she is older. It may be--it may be--that I will yet +choose her for my wife." + +Young Antelope was only sixteen years old, but he was already thinking +of getting married! It was the way of his people. The girls married +even younger than the boys--sometimes when only twelve or thirteen +years had passed over their heads. It was therefore not strange that +the chief's son should be considering what wife he would choose. + +With many of the braves away on the hunt, the village was quiet, and +the squaws took a little vacation from their work, as on the morrow +they must be very busy caring for the supplies brought home by the +hunters. + +In the afternoon Sweet Grass said kindly: "Timid Hare, you have been a +good girl and worked hard of late. You may have the rest of the day +for play. Try your new snowshoes, if you like." + +The rest of the day--two whole hours before sunset! It seemed too good +to be true. Never had such a thing happened to the child since she +left the home of the Mandans. + +Without wasting a moment, Timid Hare got the snowshoes and left the +tepee. For a moment she looked about her to see if any other little +girl would like to join her in a skim over the fields. But all seemed +busy at their games, and even now she was not enough at home with any +one of them to ask them to leave their own play and go off with her, a +captive. + +So, binding on the shoes, she started off alone. What fun it was to +move so fast and so smoothly! How clear was the air! How delightful +it was to feel the blood rushing freely through every part of her body! +Her cheeks tingled pleasantly; her heart beat with joy. + +Mile after mile the child darted on in the opposite direction from that +taken by the hunters in the morning. So happy, so free felt the child +that she forgot how far she was travelling. Sometimes there were +little rolls in the land. She would get up her speed as she approached +them, so as to have force enough to reach the summit of a roll with +ease. And then what fun it was to travel like the wind down the other +side! + +On, on, on! and then suddenly, Timid Hare came to herself. Where was +the village? In what direction? Could she not see smoke rising +somewhere behind her, telling of the fires burning in the homes of the +people? + +There was nothing, nothing, to guide her back--only some fields +apparently untrodden in every direction. So light was the little +girl's body that her shoes had rarely pressed through the crust. The +short winter day was near its end. A bank of clouds was gathering +about the setting sun, they told of an approaching storm; so also spoke +the chill wind that blew in the child's face. + +Fright clutched at Timid Hare's heart. She thought of the power of the +storm-king. Here, in the snowy wilderness, it seemed that she must +perish. Was there no one to turn to in this time of danger? Yes. + +"Help me, Great Spirit," cried the child, lifting her hands towards the +sky where she believed He dwelt. + +With that cry came a feeling that somehow her prayer would be answered. +And at the same time Timid Hare remembered the little sock which she +always carried in her bosom. She pressed a hand against the place +where it should rest. Yes, it was safe. + +"White Mink had faith in it. So will I," Timid Hare said to herself. +Many a time during the hard days with The Stone, she had repeated the +same words. It had always helped her to do so. + +And now she turned in the direction she hoped was the village of the +Dahcotas, but her feet felt numb. It was hard to travel. Hark! what +was that? It seemed as though men's voices could be heard shouting to +each other in the distance. They came nearer. Could it be that Sweet +Grass had sent some of the village boys out after her? + +Nearer! Nearer! Timid Hare stood still, listening. If they would +only hurry! She suddenly felt drowsy--the snow-chill was benumbing her +whole body, and somehow she no longer cared whether she was found or +not. She tottered, fell. + +The next thing she knew, she was lying in the arms of a man with kind +blue eyes. He was smiling at her, and he was white! Another man, +white like himself, was rubbing her arms and legs. + +"All right now," the first man was saying to the other. "Poor little +thing! How did she ever get out here? That Dahcota village is a good +dozen miles from here, and the child's moccasins tell that she is of +that tribe." + +"We must waste no time in getting farther away from them ourselves," +replied the other. "Little time would be wasted in taking our scalps +if they caught us alone." + +"But we can't leave this helpless creature," said the first speaker. +"Do you know, Ben, she must be about the age of my own little daughter +if--" The man's voice broke suddenly. + +"Poor fellow--yes, I understand. You never will get over that blow. +But, really, Tom, we must not stay here. The savages may be upon us +any moment. Here, use this. It may bring her to." + +The speaker held out a bottle of cordial which the man who held Timid +Hare held to her lips. She tried to swallow, but it choked her. + +"There," she said with a gasp, "it is enough," and she lifted herself +up. + +"Good," said both men, who knew a little of the Indian tongue. + +"Oh, but my shoe!" cried the little girl in fright. It had slipped a +little from its usual resting place, and she now missed it. In spite +of being alone on the snow-covered prairie, with two strangers, her +first thought was of the little talisman White Mink had given into her +keeping. Oh! she could feel it pressing against her waist, and she +gave a happy sigh. + +In the meantime, the men had decided that it would be best to take the +child to their camp. The rest could be settled afterwards. + +"Can you trust yourself to your snowshoes again?" the man whom his +friend called Tom asked her gently. + +She nodded, and with the help of one of her companions, they were bound +on her feet. A biscuit was now given her--she had never tasted its +like before--and she ate greedily. This was followed by another +swallow of the cordial, and the little girl was ready for the start. + +Many miles were before her, but the men often took hold of her hands to +give her fresh courage. Besides, she was greatly excited. What was +coming? Were these strangers bringing her back to the village of the +Dahcotas, or guiding her to something far different? From time to time +one of the men struck a match--such a wonderful thing it seemed to +Timid Hare--and looked at a tiny instrument he carried in his pocket. +It seemed to tell him if they were travelling in the right direction. +"How wise," thought Timid Hare, "the white people must be! Perhaps +they are as wise as the medicine men!" + +And she--why, she was of their own race, though her stained skin did +not show it! At the thought, she lifted her hand to her side. Yes, +her treasure was safe! + +When it seemed to the child as if she could not move her feet longer, a +faint light shone out in the distance. The camp of the white men would +soon be reached. + +When the travellers at last arrived at the journey's end there was +great excitement among the men who were anxiously watching for the +return of their two companions. They had feared that their friends had +lost their way and been overcome by cold; or more probable, that they +had been killed or captured by the Indians. They were in the Dahcota +country,--this they knew; also that these Dahcotas were fierce warriors +and hated the white men. + +How surprised they were to see what they thought was an Indian child +with their companions! How did it happen? What was to be done with +her? + +But now, as Timid Hare almost fell to the floor of the warm, brightly +lighted tent, all saw that she was quite exhausted. She must be fed, +and afterwards sleep. There would be time enough to question her next +morning. + +Hot soup was brought, and never, it seemed, had anything ever tasted so +delicious to Timid Hare. And the heat of the burning logs--how +pleasant it was! Timid Hare was too tired to be afraid, or even to +think, and even as she ate, she fell sound asleep. + +She awoke next morning with her hand clutching the place where the sock +lay hidden, and saw a kind face bending over her. It belonged to the +same man who had held her when she roused from the snow-chill. + +"What is it?" he asked gently. He pointed to her hand. + +"It is--my charm. It is to bring me good." + +"May I see it?" The man's voice was so kind that it filled Timid Hare +with perfect trust. + +"You will--help me?" The child's eyes were full of pleading. + +"Yes, little one." + +Slowly Timid Hare drew forth the sock. It was faded and soiled, yet +the pattern in which the silk had been woven into the worsted was quite +plain. + +"How did--Why, tell me at once how you got this." The man's voice was +half stern, half pleading. + +"It was--so." With this beginning Timid Hare repeated the story as +White Mink had told it to her. Many a time she had since told it to +herself during her hard life with The Stone. It was such a strange +story--so full of wonder to her still. The wonder of it was in her +voice even now. + +The man listened with half-closed eyes, but saying never a word till +she finished. Then, as in a dream, he said in a low tone: "It is my +baby's sock--the pattern is one planned by my dear wife Alice who died +out on this lonely prairie. And then--the sudden attack of the +Dahcotas--and I made prisoner, while my baby Alice was left behind to +perish. Afterwards I was rescued, though I cared little to live." + +"But child, child," he burst out, "though your eyes have the same +color, the same expression as those of my dear wife, your skin is that +of the red people." + +"I stained it--The Stone made me--and when I saw Sweet Grass liked me +best so, I put on the color again and yet again." + +"God be praised! I have found my darling who, I thought, was lost +forever." The man lifted Timid Hare and clasped her tenderly in his +arms. And she--well, the little girl rested there content and happy. + +The next minute the rest of the party who had been out exploring, +entered the tent with word that the start must be made at once. The +clouds of the night before had lifted; the snow might not begin falling +for several hours, and the most must be made of the morning towards +reaching a larger camp where sledges would carry them a long ways +towards a fur station. + +Great was the joy of the others when they learned the good fortune that +had come to their friend, and merry was the whole party as it made its +way onward. Yes, Timid Hare, or rather Alice, now more like the Swift +Fawn she had been, was merry too. But as she went on her way to the +new and beautiful life that would soon be hers, she begged her father +to take her back by-and-by for a visit to her foster-parents and Big +Moose in the Mandan village on the river. And he promised gladly. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TIMID HARE
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