Timid Hare | Page 8

she were alone. There was nothing left for The Stone but to go on her way, muttering.
"After this," she promised herself, "Timid Hare shall go little from my sight. I need her to do my bidding and save my steps. She must not be taken from me through any foolish fancy that Sweet Grass may have taken for her."

THE HAPPY DAY
That evening the chief, Bent Horn, sat by his fireside, smoking with his friends. Close beside him was his handsome son. On the women's side of the lodge Sweet Grass and her mother squatted, listening to the stories of the men. As the hours passed by, the visitors rose one by one and went home for the night's sleep. When the last one had gone Sweet Grass got up from her place and held out to her father the mat she had been making for him. A pretty picture had been woven into the rushes; it had taken all the young girl's skill to do it.
"For you, my father," said Sweet Grass.
The chief smiled. He was proud of his young son who gave promise of becoming a fine hunter. But he was also proud of this one daughter. He loved her so dearly that he could not bear to say, No, to anything she might ask of him.
"My father," now said Sweet Grass, "I wish to speak to you of the child Timid Hare whom you gave into the keeping of The Stone."
The chief scowled. "That pale-faced daughter of the cowardly Mandans? She may thank you that she still lives," he said sternly.
"But I have seen her and talked with her, my father, and she has won my heart. I want her to live with me and serve me. Will you let it be so?"
There was no answer.
"And she no longer makes one think of the pale-faced Mandans. Her skin is now dark with paint so that she looks even as we do." The voice of Sweet Grass was tender with pleading.
"I saw her at the spring one day," broke in young Antelope. "The hump-back, Black Bull, had just left her. Her eyes spoke fright, but also a good temper. Let my sister have her wish."
The chief turned to his wife. In matters of the household the Indian woman generally has her will.
"Let the child come and serve Sweet Grass," said the squaw who had a noble face and must once have been as beautiful as her daughter.
"You shall have your wish." Bent Horn spoke as though not wholly pleased; but when he saw the delight his words gave Sweet Grass, his face showed more kindness than his voice.
Two days afterwards a messenger from Bent Horn appeared in The Stone's doorway.
"I bring you word from our chief," he told her. "The captive, Timid Hare, is to return with me. She will serve the maiden Sweet Grass."
The Stone's ugly eyes filled with anger. Yet she did not dare refuse the command of the chief.
"Go," she said turning to Timid Hare, who was busy at one side of the lodge pounding wild rice into flour. "Go, you cowardly good-for-nothing. Let the chief discover what I have borne."
Timid Hare was almost overcome with delight. To serve the beautiful maiden, Sweet Grass! It seemed too good to be true.
Yet it must be true, for The Stone, with uplifted arms, was fairly driving her from the lodge as she would a troublesome mosquito.
As the little girl passed through the doorway she met Black Bull entering, with Smoke at his heels. Over the youth's eyes swept a cloud of fear at the unusual brightness in the little girl's face. He felt instantly that she was going to leave him. Sad as she had been, she had brought a little sunshine into the dreary home.
"Good-bye, Black Bull," she whispered. "I will not forget you." Then, without a last glance at The Stone, she hurried on after the messenger who had come for her.
When she reached the chief's lodge, there was Sweet Grass waiting for her with a kind smile. The maiden's mother, whom she had never seen before, was also in the lodge. The squaw was busily cooking the evening meal like any other red woman, though her husband was the chief of the whole band.
Sweet Grass had just motioned to the little girl to take her place beside her, when Young Antelope burst into the tepee. The day before he had gone hunting, and when night came had not appeared. His mother and sister had worried at his absence, but the chief had said, "We will not fear. The lad has no doubt lost his way. But he knows how to care for himself."
And now Young Antelope stood once more in the home, safe and happy! He had had an exciting adventure, and was eager to