it not, my Mother? It is now many weeks since I have
been called to settle any little quarrel among our people. Surely they
are learning wisdom fast. Do you know something? I intend that some of
the squaws who are idle shall make my baby, Gaspar the Second, a
little costume of our own tribe. It shall be all complete; as if he
were a tiny chief himself, with his leggings and head-dress, and--yes,
even a little bow and quiver. I'll have it finished, maybe, before his
father comes down from this last trip into the far-away woods. Oh! I
shall be glad when my 'brave' can trust all his business of mining and
fur-buying and lumbering to somebody else. I miss him so. But won't he
be pleased with our little lad in feathers and buckskin?"

Wahneenah's dark eyes looked keenly at her daughter's face.

"No, beloved; he will not be pleased. In his heart of hearts, the
white chief was ever the red man's enemy. Me he loves and a few more.
But let the White Papoose" (Wahneenah still called her foster-child by
the old love names of her childhood) "let the White Papoose hear and
remember: the day is near when the Dark-Eye will choose between his
friends and the friends of his wife. It is time to prepare. There is a
distress coming which shall make of this Chicago a burying-ground. Our
Dark-Eye has bought much land. He is always, always buying. Some day
he will sell and the gold in his purse will be too heavy for one man's
carrying. But first the darkness, the blood, the death. Let him choose
now a house of refuge for you and the little children; choose it
where there are trees to shelter and water to refresh. Let him build
there a tepee large enough for all your needs,--a wigwam, remember,
not a house. Let him stock it well with food and clothing and the guns
which protect."

"Why, Other Mother! What has come over you? Such a dismal prophecy as
that is worse than any which old Katasha ever breathed. Are you ill,
Wahneenah, dearest?"

"There is no sickness in my flesh; yet in my heart is a misery that
bows it to the earth. But I warn you. If you would find favor in the
eyes of your brave, clothe not his son in the costume of the red man."

Kitty was unaccountably depressed. Hitherto she had been able to laugh
aside the sometimes sombre auguries of the chief's sister; but now
something in the woman's manner made her believe that she knew more
than she disclosed of some impending disaster. However, it was not in
her nature, nor did she