Timid Hare | Page 2

Land of Nod.
She must have slept a long time, for when she awoke the sun had set,
and in the gathering darkness, she was aware of a man's face with fierce
dark eyes bent over her own.
"Ugh! Ugh!" the man was muttering. "It is a daughter of the Mandans.
A good prize!"
As he spoke he rose to his feet and Swift Fawn, shaking with fear,
knew that he was beckoning to others to draw near. A moment
afterwards she was surrounded by a party of warriors. They were taller
than the men of her own tribe, and were straight and noble in shape, but
their faces were very stern.
"They must belong to the 'Dahcotas,'" thought the child. "And they are
our enemies."
Many a tale had Swift Fawn heard of the fierce Dahcotas, lovers of war
and greatly to be feared. It was a terrible thought that she was alone and
in their power, with the night coming on.
"Ugh! What shall we do with her?" the brave who had discovered her
said to the others.
"She is fair to look upon," replied one.
"But she is a Mandan," was the quick answer of another. As he spoke
he looked proudly at the scalp lock hanging from his shoulder, for he
and his companions has just been out on the war path.
"Let our Chief decide," said the first speaker. "It is best that Bent Horn
should settle the question."
"Ugh! Ugh!" grunted the others, not quite pleased at the idea. However,
they said nothing more, and turned away, moving softly with their
moccasined feet to the place where their horses were restlessly waiting

to go on with the journey.
Swift Fawn's captor now seized her hand, saying gruffly, "Get up."
Dragging her to his horse's side, he lifted her up, bound her to the
animal's back, leaped up after her and a moment afterwards the whole
party were galloping faster and faster into the night.
Hour after hour they traveled with never a stop. At last, by the light of
the stars. Swift Fawn knew that she was nearing a large camp, made up
of many tent-homes.

BEFORE THE CHIEF
As the party entered the camp the dogs came out to meet them, barking
in delight at their masters' return. Swift Fawn's captor rode up with her
to the largest of the tents, or tepees as the Dahcotas called them.
Springing from his horse, he unbound the little girl, and again seizing
her hand, drew the scared child into the lodge.
A bright fire was blazing in the fireplace, for the night was cold.
Beside it squatted a noble-looking brave, wrapped in a bear-skin robe,
and with eagles' feathers waving from the top of his head. Chains of
wampum hung around his neck and his face was painted in long, bright
lines.
Not far from him sat a beautiful and richly-dressed young girl, his
daughter. She looked kindly at Swift Fawn as if to say: "Do not fear,
little girl."
"Behold, a child of the Mandans. I give her into your hands, great
Chief," said Swift Fawn's captor to the brave by the fireside.
Bent Horn seemed in no hurry to speak, as he looked keenly at the
child who could not lift her eyes for fear.

"Is the girl of the weak Mandans to live, or to be a slave among our
people?" asked the warrior.
Bent Horn was about to answer, as his daughter broke in: "Father, let
her live. I wish it."
The Chief turned toward the young girl with love in his eyes. He smiled
as he said, "Sweet Grass shall have her wish."
His face became stern, however, as he added: "That shrinking creature
must be trained. Give her into the keeping of The Stone, and let this girl
henceforth be known as Timid Hare."
As Bent Horn spoke he motioned to Swift Fawn's captor to take her
away, and the man at once led her out of the lodge and through the
camp to a small tepee on the outskirts, where the old woman, The
Stone, lived with her deformed son, Black Bull.

THE NEW HOME
Drawing aside the heavy buffalo-skin curtain which covered the
doorway, the man shoved his little captive inside and followed close
behind her.
"Ugh, Timid Hare," he said scornfully. "This is your new home. Does it
please you?"
The child shuddered without answering, as she mustered courage to
look about her. The fire on the hearth in the middle of the tepee was
smouldering. With the help of its dim light the little girl could see piles
of dirty buffalo robes on either side; the walls of the tent, also made of
buffalo skins, were blackened by smoke. Long shadows stretching
across the floor,