nly _red_, an' they called
me the 'Red-headed Woodpecker.' I tried to lick them, but lots of them
could lick me an' rubbed it in wuss. When I seen fightin' didn't
work, I let on to like it, but it was too late then. Mostly it's just
'Woodpecker' for short. I don't know as it ever lost me any sleep."

Half an hour later, as they sat by the fire that Yan made with
rubbing-sticks, he said, "Say, Woodpecker, I want to tell you a
story." Sam grimaced, pulled his ears forward, and made ostentatious
preparations to listen.

"There was once an Indian squaw taken prisoner by some other tribe way
up north. They marched her 500 miles away, but one night she escaped
and set out, not on the home trail, for she knew they would follow
that way and kill her, but to one side. She didn't know the country
and got lost. She had no weapons but a knife, and no food but berries.
Well, she travelled fast for several days till a rainstorm came, then
she felt safe, for she knew her enemies could not trail her now. But
winter was near and she could not get home before it came. So she set
to work right where she was.

"She made a wigwam of Birch bark and a fire with rubbing-sticks, using
the lace of her moccasin for a bow-string. She made snares of the
inner bark of the Willow and of Spruce roots, and deadfalls, too, for
Rabbits. She was starving sometimes, at first, but she ate the buds
and inner bark of Birch trees till she found a place where there were
lots of Rabbits. And when she caught some she used every scrap of
them. She made a fishing-line of the sinews, and a hook of the bones
and teeth lashed together with sinew and Spruce gum.

"She made a cloak of Rabbit skins, sewed with needles of Rabbit bone
and thread of Rabbit sinew, and a lot of dishes of Birch bark sewed
with Spruce roots.

"She put in the whole winter there alone, and when the spring came she
was found by Samuel Hearne, the great traveller. Her precious knife
was worn down, but she was fat and happy and ready to set out for her
own people."

"Well, I say that's mighty inter-est-in'," said Sam--he had listened
attentively--"an' I'd like nothin' better than to try it myself if I
had a gun an' there was lots of game."

"Pooh, who wouldn't?"

"Mighty few--an' there's mighty few who _could_."
"I could."

"What, make everything with just a knife? I'd like to see you make
a teepee," then adding earnestly, "Sam, we've been kind o' playing
Injuns; now let's do it properl