es one come now?"

"In pursuit of this child, the adopted daughter of our tribe, whom the
Black Partridge himself has given me. It was ill of you, accursed, to
wile her hither with your unholy spells."

"I wiled her not. It was the gray squirrel. Broken in his life, as am
I, the once Mighty. Many wounded creatures seek shelter here. It is a
sanctuary. They alone fear not the miserable one."

"Does not the tribe see to it that you have food and drink set within
your wigwam, once during each journey of the sun? I have so heard."

"Ugh! Food and drink. Sometimes I cannot reach them. They are not even
pushed beyond the door flap, or what is left of it. They are all
afraid. All. Yet they are fools. That which has befallen me may happen
to each when his time comes. It is the sickness of the bones. There is
no contagion in it. But it twists the straight limbs into torturing
curves and it rends the body with agony. One would be glad to die, but
death--like friendship--holds itself aloof. Ugh! The drink! The
drink!"

The Sun Maid could understand the language of the eyes, if not the
lips, and she followed their wistful gaze toward the clay bowl from
which she had before given him the water. But it was empty now, and
seizing it with all her strength, for it was heavy and awkward in
shape, she sped out of the wigwam toward a spring she had discovered.

"Four, ten, lots of times Kitty has broughted the nice water, and
every time the poor, sick Feather-man has drinked it up. He must be
terrible thirsty, and so is Kitty. I guess I will drink first, this
time."

Filling the utensil, she struggled to lift it to her own lips, but it
was rudely pushed away.

"Papoose! Would you drink to your own death? The thing is accursed, I
tell you!"

"Why, Other Mother! It is just as clean as clean. Kitty did wash and
wash it long ago. It was all dirty, worse than my new necklace, but it
is clean now. Do you want a drink, Other Mother? Is you thirsty, too,
like the sick one and Kitty?"

"If I were, it would be long before I touched my lips to that cup."

"Would it? Now I will fill it again. Then you must take it, Other
Mother, and quick, quick, back to that raggedy house. Kitty is tired,
she has come here and there so many, many times."

"Is it here you have spent this long day, papoose?"

"I did come here when the gray squirrel runned away. I did stay ever
since."

Wahneenah's heart sank. But to her credit it was that, for the tim