and "mama", adopted
from the English language.]

The father looked smilingly at Ta-la-pus, but the boy's eyes, great and
dark, and hungry for the far mainland, for the great feasts he had heard
so much of, were fastened in begging, pleading seriousness on his
father's face. Suddenly a whim seized the old chief's fancy.

"Ta-la-pus," he said, "you look as if you would like to go, too. Do you
want to take part in the Potlatch?"

Instantly Chet-woot objected. "Papa, he could never go, he's too young.
They may ask him to dance for them. He can't dance. Then perhaps they
would never ask us."

The chief scowled. He was ruler in his own lodge, and allowed no
interference from anyone.

"Besides," continued Chet-woot, "there would be no one to fetch wood for
mama and the babies."

"Yes, there would be someone," said the chief, his eyes snapping
fiercely. "_You_ would be here to help your mama."

"I?" exclaimed the young man. "But how can I, when I shall be at the
Potlatch? I go to _all_ the Potlatches."

"So much more reason that you stay home this once and care for your mama
and baby sisters, and you _shall_ stay. Lapool and little Ta-la-pus will
go with me. It is time the boy saw something of the other tribes. Yes,
I'll take Lapool and Ta-la-pus, and there is no change to my word when
it is once spoken."

Chet-woot sat like one stunned, but an Indian son knows better than to
argue with his father. But the great, dark eyes of little Ta-la-pus
glowed like embers of fire, his young heart leaped joyously. At last,
at last, he was to set foot in the country of his dreams--the far,
blue, mountain-circled mainland.

All that week his mother worked day and night on a fine new native
costume for him to wear on the great occasion. There were trousers of
buckskin fringed down each side, a shirt of buckskin, beaded and
beautified by shell ornaments, a necklace of the bones of a rare fish,
strung together like little beads on deer sinew, earrings of pink and
green pearl from the inner part of the shells of a bivalve, neat
moccasins, and solid silver, carven bracelets.

She was working on a headdress consisting of a single red fox-tail and
eagle feathers, when he came and stood beside her.

"Mama," he said, "there is a prairie wolf skin you cover the babies with
while they sleep. Would you let me have it this once, if they would not
be cold without it?"

"They will never be cold," she smiled, "for I can use an extra blan