?" the man whom his
friend called Tom asked her gently.

She nodded, and with the help of one of her companions, they were bound
on her feet. A biscuit was now given her--she had never tasted its
like before--and she ate greedily. This was followed by another
swallow of the cordial, and the little girl was ready for the start.

Many miles were before her, but the men often took hold of her hands to
give her fresh courage. Besides, she was greatly excited. What was
coming? Were these strangers bringing her back to the village of the
Dahcotas, or guiding her to something far different? From time to time
one of the men struck a match--such a wonderful thing it seemed to
Timid Hare--and looked at a tiny instrument he carried in his pocket.
It seemed to tell him if they were travelling in the right direction.
"How wise," thought Timid Hare, "the white people must be! Perhaps
they are as wise as the medicine men!"

And she--why, she was of their own race, though her stained skin did
not show it! At the thought, she lifted her hand to her side. Yes,
her treasure was safe!

When it seemed to the child as if she could not move her feet longer, a
faint light shone out in the distance. The camp of the white men would
soon be reached.

When the travellers at last arrived at the journey's end there was
great excitement among the men who were anxiously watching for the
return of their two companions. They had feared that their friends had
lost their way and been overcome by cold; or more probable, that they
had been killed or captured by the Indians. They were in the Dahcota
country,--this they knew; also that these Dahcotas were fierce warriors
and hated the white men.

How surprised they were to see what they thought was an Indian child
with their companions! How did it happen? What was to be done with
her?

But now, as Timid Hare almost fell to the floor of the warm, brightly
lighted tent, all saw that she was quite exhausted. She must be fed,
and afterwards sleep. There would be time enough to question her next
morning.

Hot soup was brought, and never, it seemed, had anything ever tasted so
delicious to Timid Hare. And the heat of the burning logs--how
pleasant it was! Timid Hare was too tired to be afraid, or even to
think, and even as she ate, she fell sound asleep.

She awoke next morning with her hand clutching the place where the sock
lay hidden, and saw a kind face bending over her. It belong