Timid Hare | Page 6

to
make our faces grow long--so!"
At this Black Bull's face took on a look of sadness as though he were
grieving.
Timid Hare was used to the dances of the Mandans, and she loved them.
But they were not so many as those of the Dahcotas, she felt sure. Why,
the night before, whenever she wakened, she heard the sound of

dancing in different lodges in the village.
"There is the spring. Now I go," said Black Bull, pointing it out
half-hidden in a hollow shaded by clumps of bushes. The youth, with
Smoke who had followed close at his heels ever since leaving the lodge,
turned back and Timid Hare stooped down to fill the crock.
As she did so her eyes met a pair of large black ones fastened upon her
own, and just above the water's edge. They belonged to the chief's only
son Young Antelope, who had come for a drink of cool water before
going off on a hunting trip. He was a handsome youth. As he lay
stretched out on the grassy bank above the spring he had heard the
sound of Timid Hare's steps as she drew near, and looked up to see who
it was.
"Oof! the stranger," he said, but he did not scowl like the little girls
whom the little captive had passed a few minutes before.
The next minute he had sprung to his pony's back and gone galloping
away. Timid Hare thought sadly of the dear foster-brother far away on
the wide prairie, as she trudged back with her load to the tepee where
The Stone awaited her.

THE CHANGE
"Bad," scolded the squaw as she looked into the crock and saw that
some of the water had been spilled on the way home.
She reached for her willow switch and used it twice on Timid Hare's
back.
"I have a nice little task for you," she said. "Do you see this?" She
pointed to a dish full of a dull red dye. "It is for you," she continued.
"No more pale-faces about us now. You are to take this dye and paint
yourself--every part of your body, mind you. Then, when you have
used this on your hair--" she pointed to a smaller dish containing a
black dye--"we may be able to make a Dahcota out of you after all."

"Waste no time," she commanded, as Timid Hare turned slowly to the
dishes of dye. "I leave you now for a little while and when I come
back--then I may like to look at you."
The Stone left the lodge and Timid Hare was left to change herself so
that even White Mink would not know her. Trained as she had been in
the ways of all Indians, her tears fell often as she covered her body with
the paint. She dare not leave one spot untouched, nor one tress of the
beautiful hair that had been White Mink's pride. When the work was at
last finished, there was no mirror in which to look at herself.
Once--just once, during her eight years of life among the Mandans, she
had seen a looking-glass. It was no larger than the palm of her small
hand, and belonged to the chief into whose hands it had come from a
white hunter years before. It was such a wonderful thing! Timid Hare
thought of it now and wished that she might see the picture that it
would of herself reflect.
"When I am next sent to the spring," she thought, "I will seek the quiet
little pool where some of the water lingers. Then, if the clouds give a
deep shadow, I can see the Timid Hare I now am."
"Good," muttered The Stone when she returned and examined her little
slave. But when Black Bull noticed the change, he said nothing--only
looked sad. Perhaps he felt that the little stranger had somehow lost
herself.

THE VISIT
One day, soon after Timid Hare's coming, she was sent to the chief's
tepee on an errand. The Stone and she had been gathering rushes for the
chief's daughter Sweet Grass who wished them for a mat she was
weaving. It was to be a surprise for her father; she meant it to be so
beautiful that he would wish to sit on it at feasts when entertaining
chiefs of other bands.
The Stone and Timid Hare had spent many hours searching for the

most beautiful rushes, and the old squaw was pleased at having
succeeded at last.
"Sweet Grass's mother will give me much bear meat for getting the
rushes for her daughter," she thought. But to Timid Hare she only said:
"Take these to the home of our chief and place them in the hands of
Sweet Grass. Make haste, for