efore me. Watch and see."

Wide-eyed and smiling, and quite unafraid, the little orphan from the
Fort stood, as she was directed, close beside the aged squaw while she
was silently disrobed. Her baby eyes had caught the glitter of beads
on the new garments, and there was never a girl-child born who did not
like new clothes. When she was quite undressed, and her white body
shone like a marble statue in contrast to their dusky forms, the
hushed voices of the Indians burst forth again in a torrent of
admiration.

But Kitty was too young to understand this, and deemed it some new
game in which she played the principal part.

The prophetess held up her hand and the women ceased chattering. Then
she pointed toward the brook and, herself comprehending what was meant
by this gesture, the Sun Maid ran lightly to the bank and leaped in.
With a scream of fear, that was very human and mother-like, Wahneenah
followed swiftly. For the instant she had forgotten that the merry
little one was a "spirit," and could not drown.

Fortunately, the stream was not deep, and was delightfully sun-warmed.
Besides, the Fort children had all been as much at home in the water
as on the land and a daily plunge had been a matter of course. So
Kitty laughed and clapped her hands as she ducked again and again into
the deepest of the shallow pools, splashing and gurgling in glee, till
another signal from the aged crone bade the foster-mother bring the
bather back.

"No, no! Kitty likes the water. Kitty did make the Feather-lady wash
the necklace. Now the old Feather-lady makes Kitty wash Kitty. No, I
do not want to go. I want to stay right here in the brook."

"But--the beautiful tunic! What about that, papoose?"

It was not at all a "spiritual" argument, yet it sufficed; and with a
spring the little one was out of the water and clinging to Wahneenah's
breast.

As she was set down, dewy and glistening, she pranced and tossed her
dripping hair about till the drops it scattered touched some faces
that had not known the feel of water in many a day. With an "Ugh!" of
disgust the squaws withdrew to a safe distance from this unsolicited
bath, though remaining keenly watchful of what the One-Who-Knows might
do. This was, first, the anointing of the child's body with some
unctuous substance that the old woman had brought, wrapped in a pawpaw
leaf.

Since towels were a luxury unknown in the wilderness, as soon as this
anointing was finished Katasha cl