o a long, soft robe, and then, sitting near
Miki, with her bare little feet in the fireglow, she took down her
wonderful hair and began brushing it. It was the first time Miki had
seen this new and marvellous garment about her. It fell over her
shoulders and breast and almost to the floor in a shimmering glory, and
the scent of it was so sweet that Miki crept a few inches nearer, and
whimpered softly. After she had done brushing it Miki watched her as
her slim fingers plaited it into two braids; and then, before she put
the light out, a still more curious thing happened. She went to her
bed, made of saplings, against the wall, and from its hiding place
under the blankets drew forth tenderly a little ivory Crucifix. With
this in her hands she knelt upon the log floor, and Miki listened to
her prayer. He did not know, but she was asking God to be good to her
baby--the little Nanette in the crib.

After that she cuddled the baby up in her arms, and put out the light,
and went to bed; and through all the hours of the night Miki made no
sound that would waken them.

In the morning, when Nanette opened her eyes, she found Miki with his
head resting on the edge of the bed, close to the baby that was nestled
against her bosom.

That morning, as she built the fire, something strange and stirring in
Nanette's breast made her sing. Le Beau would be away until dark that
night, and she would never dare to tell him what she and the baby and
the dog were going to do. It was her birthday. Twenty-six; and it
seemed to her that she had lived the time of two lives! And eight of
those years with The Brute! But to-day they would celebrate, they
three. All the morning the cabin was filled with a new spirit--a new
happiness.

Years ago, before she had met Le Beau, the Indians away back on the
Waterfound had called Nanette "Tanta Penashe" ("the Little Bird")
because of the marvellous sweetness of her voice. And this morning she
sang as she prepared the birthday feast; the sun flooded through the
windows, and Miki whimpered happily and thumped his tail, and the baby
cackled and crowed, and The Brute was forgotten. In that forgetfulness
Nanette was a girl again, sweet and beautiful as in those days when old
Jackpine, the Cree--who was now dead--had told her that she was born of
the flowers. The wonderful dinner was ready at last, and to the baby's
delight Nanette induced Miki to sit on a chair at the table. He felt
foolish there, and he loo