within reach for luxuries in the way of house-furnishing, and
had Mrs. Huzzard use them in 'Tana's cabin. But when he had done all
this, she never asked a question as to where the comforts came from--she,
who, a short month before, had valued each kind glance received from him.

Mrs. Huzzard was sorely afraid that it was pride, the pride of newly
acquired wealth, that changed her from the gay, saucy girl into a moody,
dreamy being, who would lie all alone for hours and not notice any of them
coming and going. The good soul had many a heartache over it all, never
guessing that it was an ache and a shame in the heart of the girl that
made the new life that was given her seem a thing of little value.

'Tana had watched the squaw wistfully at times, as if expecting her to say
something to her when the others were not around, but she never did. When
'Tana heard the ladies ask Lyster to go with them to a certain place where
beautiful mosses were to be found, she waited with impatience until their
voices left the door.

The squaw shook her head when asked in that whispering way of their
departure; but when she had carried out the parasol and watched the party
disappear beyond the numerous tents now dotting the spaces where the grass
grew rank only a month before, then she slipped back and stood watchful
and silent inside the door.

"Come close," said the girl, motioning with a certain nervousness to her.
She was not the brave, indifferent little girl she had been of old. "Come
close--some one might listen, somewhere. I've been so sick--I've dreamed
so many things that I can't tell some days what is dream and what is true.
I lie here and think and think, but it will not come clear. Listen! I
think sometimes you and I hunted for tracks--a white man's tracks--across
there where the high ferns are. You showed them to me, and then we came
back when the moon shone, and it was light like day, and I picked white
flowers. Some days I think of it--of the tracks, long, slim tracks, with
the boot heel. Then my head hurts, and I think maybe we never found the
tracks, maybe it is only a dream, like--like other things!"

She did not ask if it were so, but she leaned forward with all of eager
question in her eyes. It was the first time she had shown strong interest
in anything. But, having aroused from her listlessness to speak of the
ghosts of fancy haunting her, she seemed quickened to anxiety by the
picture her own words conjured up.