came in from
the sea and fluttered a piece of weather-bleached canvas nailed over
the grave-house door.

"Goodness, Loll, you frightened me nearly to death with your wild
imaginings!" She laughed. "Let's run back now and get our shoes and
stockings."

The youngster laid a detaining hand on her arm. "But, Jean," his
shrill voice trembled, "didn't you see it--the long, white skeleton
finger?"

"Nonsense!" She stood a moment pointing out the reason for the flutter
of white, and as she did so a group of Indians landing from canoes on
the beach, came up the trail toward the post. Curiously and quickly
they gathered about the strangers. Many of them had never before seen
a white girl or boy, specimens of the strange Letquoan, the Snow People
from that far-away land of the White Chief. Solemn, black-eyed little
toddlers peered cautiously out from under their mother's shawls.
Pretty young squaws with dark handkerchiefs over their heavy hair,
jostled one another to get a better view, and at the sight of the white
girl, the young buck gallants of the tribe straightened their shoulders
and shifted their rifles to a jauntier angle.

In low, throaty tones, punctuated with long-drawn "Ah-a-a's" and
occasional explosions of laughter, they talked among themselves,
pressing closer each moment. From time to time a brown finger pointing
at Jean's bare feet evoked a general shaking of dark heads and more
"Ah-a-a's" of wonderment.

Perhaps because of the apprehension in her heart, Jean held her head
high and looked fearlessly into the brown, apparently menacing faces
about her. She glanced out over the dark heads hoping to see some
member of her own race; but the post, for the moment, seemed deserted
by the whites. She reached for her nephew's small hand and held it
tightly.

Among the Indians the talking ceased suddenly. A sense of expectation
emanated from the group. There was a shifting of positions as a tall
Thlinget, whom Jean had heard the White Chief call Swimming Wolf,
stepped toward her, his red-bordered snowy blanket trailing
majestically from his shoulders. He stopped, bent his stately form,
and looked long and earnestly at her bare feet. Before the girl knew
what he was about he had wetted his finger in his mouth, rubbed it
along her foot, and scrutinized it gravely. He glanced up, his teeth
flashing at her in a pleased smile.

"Ugh! Ugh!" he marveled in his best English. "Little squaw with white
feet!