seldom
disturbed to have learned any fear; while Wahneenah made a tiny fire
of dried twigs, in the mouth of the cavern, and boiled her prepared
corn, that she had broken and ground between two stones, into a sort
of mush. With Gaspar's fish, broiled upon the live coals, the pudding
sweetened by a bit of honey from a close sealed crock, and a draught
of water from the underground stream, the trio made a fine supper;
and afterward, when she had carefully cleared away the _debris_,
Wahneenah rekindled the fire, and, sitting beside it, took the Sun
Maid on her knee and drew the motherless Dark-Eye within the shelter
of her arm.

Then she told them tales and legends of the wide prairies and distant
mountains; and her own manner gave them thrilling interest, because
she believed in them quite as sincerely as did her small, wide-eyed
listeners.

"Tell it once more, Other Mother. That beau'ful one 'bout the little
papoose that hadn't any shoes, and the flowers growed her some. Just
like mine"; holding up her own tiny moccasined feet, and rubbing them
together in the comfortable heat.

"Once upon a time a little girl papoose was lost. The enemies of her
people had come to her father's village, and had scattered all her
tribe. There was not one of them left alive except the little maid."

"I guess that's just like Kitty, isn't it?"

"No. No, it is not," replied the story-teller, quickly. For she had
felt a shiver run through Gaspar's body, and pressed it close in
warm protection. "No. It is not like either of you. For to you
is Wahneenah, the Mother; the sister of a chief who lives and is
powerful. But this was away in the long past, before even I was born.
So the girl papoose found herself wandering on the prairie, and it
was the time of frost. The ground was frozen beneath the grasses,
which were stiff and rough and cut the tender feet that a mother's
hand had hitherto carried in her own palm."

"Show me how, Mother Wahneenah."

"Just this way Sweetheart," clasping the tiny moccasins in a loving
caress.

"Tell some more. I guess the fire is going to make Kitty sleepy, by
and by."

"Sleep, then, if you will, Girl-Child."

"And then?"

"Then, when the little one was very cold and tired and lonely she
remembered something: it was that she had seen her own mother lift her
two hands to the sky and ask the Great Spirit for all she might need."

"He always hears, doesn't He?"

"He hears and answers. But sometimes t