the Indians a great deal--that
is, unless the rabbits live near a white man's farm and garden. In that
case they come up fully to the Indian standard and help themselves to
all they can get hold of.

Two Arrows picked up the rabbit and walked out to what had been the door
of that house. It was nearly sunset, and there could be no more
exploring done that day. He looked away off into the valley and saw
another token that he was alone in that part of it: no less than three
gangs of deer were feeding quietly between him and a bit of forest not
more than half a mile away.

Right past the group of old ruins ran a dancing brook of cool, pure
water from the mountains, and a better place to camp in could not have
been imagined. It was evidently safe to build a fire and cook the
rabbit, but for more perfect safety Two Arrows made his blaze on a spot
where some old walls prevented the light of it from being seen at too
great a distance. After his supper was eaten there came over him a
feeling that he had seen and done altogether too much for one boy in one
day. He had come out into a sort of new world through a cleft in the
mountains, and he did not know that precisely the same thing happens to
every boy in the world who makes up his mind to be something. The boys
who are contented not to be anything do not have much of a world to live
in, anyhow, poor fellows; they only hang around and eat and wear
clothes.

CHAPTER X

SILE'S POCKET

Na-tee-kah had all the load a girl of her size could comfortably carry
when she set out with her people. So had all the rest except the
dignified warriors. For that reason all the urging in the world could
not get out of that dispirited cavalcade one-half the speed attained by
Two Arrows and One-eye the previous evening. Na-tee-kah thought
continually of her pony, between thoughts of her daring brother and
wonderings of what he had done and seen. She knew very well that there
is nothing so disables a "plains Indian" as to dismount him. It is not
so bad as to break both his legs, but he is so accustomed, from
childhood, to use a horse's legs instead of his own that he is like a
man lost when he is set on foot. He has learned to hunt on horseback
mostly, and all his fighting has been done in the saddle. The old-time
Indians of the East and of Cooper's novels had hardly any horses, and in
their deep forests could not have used them to advantage. What the far
Western tribes did in those d