eep groan, stumbles, and falls to
the ground. Fortunately, though, Little Moccasin has received no hurt.
He jumps up, and runs toward the station as fast as his weary legs can
carry him.

At this very moment Iron Bull with several of his braves came in sight
again, and, realizing the helpless condition of the boy, they all gave a
shout of joy, thinking that in a few minutes they would capture and kill
him. But their shouting had been heard by some of the white men, who at
once concluded to protect the boy, if he deserved aid.

Little Moccasin and Iron Bull reached the door of the station-building
at nearly the same moment; but the former had time enough to dart inside
and hide under the table of the telegraph operator.

When Iron Bull and several other Crows rushed in to pull the boy from
underneath the table, the operator quickly took from the table-drawer a
revolver, and with it drove the murderous Crows from the premises.

Then the boy had to tell his story, and he was believed. All took pity
upon his forlorn condition, and his brave flight made them his friends.

In the evening Blue Wing came up to where Little Moccasin was resting
and awaiting the arrival of the next train, which was to take him back
to his own home.

Little Moccasin threw his arms affectionately around Blue Wing's neck,
vowing that they never would part again in life.

Then they both were put aboard a lightning express train, which look
them to within a short distance of the old camp on the Rosebud.

When Little Moccasin arrived at his father's tepee, riding beautiful
Blue Wing, now rested and frisky, the whole camp flocked around him; and
when he told them of his great daring, of his capture and his escape,
Running Antelope, the big warrior of the Uncapapas and the most noted
orator of the tribe, proclaimed him a true hero, and then and there
begged his pardon for having called him a "coffee-cooler." In the
evening Little Moccasin was honored by a great feast and the name of
"Rushing Lightning," _Wakee-watakeepee_, was bestowed upon him--and by
that name he is known to this day.

[Illustration: A YOUNG AGASSIZ]

[Illustration]

WAUKEWA'S EAGLE

BY JAMES BUCKHAM

One day, when the Indian boy Waukewa was hunting along the
mountain-side, he found a young eagle with a broken wing, lying at the
base of a cliff. The bird had fallen from an aerie on a ledge high
above, and being too young to fly, had fluttered down the cliff an