r Uncle Esmond nor Jondo near us for the first time in our
remembrance, we gained a strength in self-dependence that we needed. For
with the best of guardianship, there are many ways in which a child's
day may be harried unless the child asserts himself. We had the years of
children but the sturdy defiance of youth. So we were happy within our
own little group, and we paid little heed to the things that nobody else
could forestall for us.

Outside of our family, little Charlie Bent, the half-breed child of the
proprietor of the fort, was a daily plague. He entered into all of our
sports with a quickness and perseverance and wilfulness that was
thoroughly American. He took defeat of his wishes, and the equal measure
of justice and punishment, with the silent doggedness of an Indian; and
on the edge of babyhood he showed a spirit of revenge and malice that
we, in our rollicking, affectionate lives, with all our teasing and
sense of humor, could not understand; so we laughed at his anger and
ignored his imperious demands.

Behind him always was his Cheyenne mother, jealously defending him in
everything, and in manifold ways making life a burden--if we would
submit to the making, which we seldom did.

And lastly Santan, the young boy who had deserted his Mexican masters
for Jondo's command, contrived, with an Indian's shrewdness, never to
let us out of his sight. But he gave us no opportunity to approach him.
He lived in his own world, which was a savage one, but he managed that
it should overlap our world and silently grasp all that was in it.
Beverly had persistently tried to be friendly for a time, for that was
Beverly's way. Failing to do it, he had nick-named the boy "Satan" for
all time.

"We found Little Blue Flower a sweet little muggins," Beverly told the
Indian early in our stay at the fort. "We like good Indians like her.
She's one clipper."

Santan had merely looked him through as though he were air, and made no
reply, nor did he ever by a single word recognize Beverly from that
moment.

The evening before we left Fort Bent we children sat together in a
corner of the court. The day had been very hot for the season and the
night was warm and balmy, with the moonlight flooding the open space,
edging the shadows of the inner portal with silver. There was much noise
and boisterous laughter in the billiard-room where the heads of affairs
played together. Rex Krane had gone to bed early. Out by the rear gate
l