aid Yan. "There's a big tomahawk and a little
tomahawk."

Raften grinned, took the big "tomahawk" and pointed to a small Balsam
Fir. "Now there's a foine bed-tree."

"Why, that's a fire-tree, too," said Yan, as with two mighty strokes
Raften sent it toppling down, then rapidly trimmed it of its flat
green boughs. A few more strokes brought down a smooth young Ash and
cut it into four pieces, two of them seven feet long and two of them
five feet. Next he cut a White Oak sapling and made four sharp pegs
each two feet long.

"Now, boys, whayer do you want yer bed?" then stopping at a thought
he added, "Maybe ye didn't want me to help--want to do everything
yerselves?"

"Ugh, bully good squaw. Keep it up--wagh!" said his son and heir, as
he calmly sat on a log and wore his most "Injun brave" expression of
haughty approval.

The father turned with an inquiring glance to Yan, who replied:

"We're mighty glad of your help. You see, we don't know how. It seems
to me that I read once the best place in the teepee is opposite the
door and a little to one side. Let's make it here." So Raften placed
the four logs for the sides and ends of the bed and drove in the
ground the four stakes to hold them. Yan brought in several armfuls of
branches, and Raften proceeded to lay them like shingles, beginning at
the head-log of the bed and lapping them very much. It took all the
fir boughs, but when all was done there was a solid mass of soft green
tips a foot thick, all the butts being at the ground.

"Thayer," said Raften, "that's an _Injun feather bed_ an' safe
an' warrum. Slapin' on the ground's terrible dangerous, but that's all
right. Now make your bed on that." Sam and Yan did so, and when it was
finished Raften said: "Now, fetch that little canvas I told yer ma to
put in; that's to fasten to the poles for an inner tent over the bed."

Yan stood still and looked uncomfortable.

"Say, Da, look at Yan. He's got that tired look that he wears when the
rules is broke."

"What's wrong," asked Raften.

"Indians don't have them that I ever heard of," said Little Beaver.

"Yan, did ye iver hear of a teepee linin' or a dew-cloth?"

"Yes," was the answer, in surprise at the unexpected knowledge of the
farmer.

"Do ye know what they're like?"

"No--at least--no--"

"Well, _I do_; that's what it's like. That's something I do know,
fur I seen old Caleb use wan."

"Oh, I remember reading about it now, and they are like that, an