ng the hard days with The Stone, she had repeated the
same words. It had always helped her to do so.

And now she turned in the direction she hoped was the village of the
Dahcotas, but her feet felt numb. It was hard to travel. Hark! what
was that? It seemed as though men's voices could be heard shouting to
each other in the distance. They came nearer. Could it be that Sweet
Grass had sent some of the village boys out after her?

Nearer! Nearer! Timid Hare stood still, listening. If they would
only hurry! She suddenly felt drowsy--the snow-chill was benumbing her
whole body, and somehow she no longer cared whether she was found or
not. She tottered, fell.

The next thing she knew, she was lying in the arms of a man with kind
blue eyes. He was smiling at her, and he was white! Another man,
white like himself, was rubbing her arms and legs.

"All right now," the first man was saying to the other. "Poor little
thing! How did she ever get out here? That Dahcota village is a good
dozen miles from here, and the child's moccasins tell that she is of
that tribe."

"We must waste no time in getting farther away from them ourselves,"
replied the other. "Little time would be wasted in taking our scalps
if they caught us alone."

"But we can't leave this helpless creature," said the first speaker.
"Do you know, Ben, she must be about the age of my own little daughter
if--" The man's voice broke suddenly.

"Poor fellow--yes, I understand. You never will get over that blow.
But, really, Tom, we must not stay here. The savages may be upon us
any moment. Here, use this. It may bring her to."

The speaker held out a bottle of cordial which the man who held Timid
Hare held to her lips. She tried to swallow, but it choked her.

"There," she said with a gasp, "it is enough," and she lifted herself
up.

"Good," said both men, who knew a little of the Indian tongue.

"Oh, but my shoe!" cried the little girl in fright. It had slipped a
little from its usual resting place, and she now missed it. In spite
of being alone on the snow-covered prairie, with two strangers, her
first thought was of the little talisman White Mink had given into her
keeping. Oh! she could feel it pressing against her waist, and she
gave a happy sigh.

In the meantime, the men had decided that it would be best to take the
child to their camp. The rest could be settled afterwards.

"Can you trust yourself to your snowshoes again