t after she spoke, my heart did not beat so hard."

Now, however, as she neared the chief's lodge, she began to breathe
more quickly. The chief had such power! The Stone said ugly words to
her and did not give her enough to eat; sometimes she beat her; but she
would not do her terrible harm because the chief had given the order:
Care for the child. Suppose he should change his mind!

Trembling, Timid Hare stopped in front of the lodge.

"Come in. I am waiting for you," called a sweet voice, for Sweet
Grass, looking up from her work, had caught a glimpse of the little
girl standing outside with her bundle.

Timid Hare's heart leaped for joy. It was so good to have some one
speak kindly to her once more. And the young girl who had spoken was
so lovely to look upon! Her eyes shone like stars. Her long hair was
bound with a coronet made out of pretty shells. Her robe of deer skin
was trimmed with long fringe. Her moccasins, cut differently from
those of the Mandans, were bound into shape with ribbons made of rabbit
skin. Around her neck were many chains that made pleasant music as
they jingled against each other.

While Timid Hare was peeping out of the corners of her eyes at this
beautiful sight. Sweet Grass was in her turn examining the little
captive.

"You are--changed," she said slowly. "What has The Stone been doing?
Ugh! I see. She has tried to make a Dahcota out of you. Well, it may
be well, and yet, I think I liked you better as you were before."

"Lay the rushes here, beside me," she continued. "And now, little
Timid Hare, tell me about The Stone. Is she good to you? And Black
Bull--does he treat you well?"

Sweet Grass was tender as a sister as she asked these questions and
many others. And Timid Hare's tongue slowly became brave. She told of
the hard work which The Stone made her do. She showed scars on her
hands which the work had left. And--yes--there were also scars on the
little back from the cruel touch of The Stone's switch.

But Black Bull--poor Black Bull! The child spoke of him with loving
pity. "I am sorry for him," she said. "He has only his dog to make
him happy."

"Would you like to live with me?" asked Sweet Grass, when the story was
finished.

"Oh-h!" The little girl drew a long sigh of wonder and delight. If
only it were possible!

"We will see. I will talk to my father by-and-by. And now you must
run home. Good-by." The young girl bent over her work