voice which is the sweetest of all voices, she asked him many
questions about Nada, and gently her slim fingers caressed the tress of
Nada's hair which he let her take in her hands. And after a long time,
she said.

"I have given her a name. She is Oo-Mee, the Pigeon."

Slim Buck started at the strange note in her voice.

"The Pigeon," he repeated,

"Yes, Oo-Mee, the Pigeon," Yellow Bird nodded. She was not looking at
them. In the firelight her eyes were glowing pools. Her body had grown
a little tense. Without asking Jolly Roger's permission she placed the
tress of Nada's hair in her bosom. "Oo-Mee, the Pigeon," she said again,
looking far away. "That is her name, because the Pigeon flies fast and
straight and true. Over forests and lakes and worlds the Pigeon flies.
It is tireless. It is swift. It always--flies home."

Slim Buck rose quietly to his feet.

"Come," he whispered, looking at Jolly Roger,

Yellow Bird did not look at them or speak to them, and Slim Buck--with
his hand on Jolly Roger's arm--pulled him gently away. In his eyes was a
little something of fear, and yet along with it a sublime faith.

"Her spirit will be with Oo-Mee, the Pigeon, tonight," he said in
a voice struck with awe. "It will go to this place which you have
described, and it will live in the body of the girl, and through Yellow
Bird it will tell you tomorrow what has happened, and what is going to
happen."

In the edge of the shore-willows Jolly Roger stood for a time watching
Yellow Bird as she sat under the stars, motionless as a figure graven
out of stone. He felt a curious tingling at his heart, something
stirring uneasily in his breast, and he stood alone even after Slim
Buck had stretched himself out in the soft sand to sleep. He was not
superstitious. Yet it was equally a part of his philosophy and his creed
to believe in the overwhelming power of the mind. "If you have faith
enough, and think hard enough, you can think anything until it comes
true," he had told himself more than once. And he knew Yellow Bird
possessed that illimitable faith, and that behind her divination lay
generations and centuries of an unbreakable certainty in the power of
mind over matter. He realized his own limitations, but a mysterious
voice in the still night seemed whispering to him that in the crude
wisdom of Yellow Bird's brain lay the secret to strange achievement,
and that on this night her mind might perform for him what he, in his
great