e raccoon had finished he said:

"'I am Nanahboozhoo. Those old blind men are my brothers, and I'll teach
you a lesson you will never forget!'

"So he seized the raccoon and killed him, and carried his body back to the
tent of the blind men and made out of it a great feast for them, and
declared that in future the old raccoons should have to carry as many
circles on their tails as pieces of meat that had been stolen out of the
_rogan_ of the blind men."

"Good for Nanahboozhoo!" shouted Sagastao. "Mr. Raccoon couldn't play any
tricks on him. Now tell us another story."

But here Minnehaha interposed.

"I think," said she, "we had better go home now, for father and mother may
begin to think they have lost their little ones."

"Let us wait until dark," said Sagastao, "and then Mary won't see our dirty
clothes!" For their greasy fingers had soiled them badly.

The wishes of the little girl, however, prevailed, and so it was not long
ere the Indian salutations, "Wat cheer! Wat cheer!" were shouted to all,
and once more the two children were hoisted upon the shoulders of the big
Indians, and in the same manner in which they had been brought to the
wigwam in the forenoon they rode home in the beautiful gloaming.

Very tired were they, yet not so weary but that they were able with their
little hands to rub some of the paint off the faces of their big stalwart
carriers and daub it on their own. The effect was so ludicrous that their
merry laughter reached the ears of their expectant parents even before they
emerged from the gloom of the forest.

CHAPTER II.

The Children's Return--Indignation of Mary, the Indian
Nurse--Her Pathetic History--Her Love for the Children--The
Story of Wakonda, and of the Origin of Mosquitoes.

In reaching home the children were quietly received by their parents, who,
understanding Indian ways, had no desire to lessen their influence by
finding fault with them for carrying off the children. They treated the
matter as though it were one of everyday occurrence.

Mary, the Indian nurse, however, did not regard the incident so calmly.
When the children were brought back dirty, greasy, bedaubed, and so tired
that they could hardly hold up their little heads, her indignation knew no
bounds, and as she was perfectly fearless she couched her sentiments in the
most vigorous phrases of the expressive Cree language.

The history of Indian Mary was very strange. Indeed there was an incident