sible, crept back to the village.

At the door of his teepee he picked up the two little carcasses and
entered. He had avoided the river-bank, but they saw him, and saw the
stick, and drew near to witness the fun.

Within the circle of the teepee Charley's wife, Loseis, was mixing
dough in a pan. Opposite her Bela, the cause of all the trouble, knelt
on the ground carefully filing the points of her fish-hooks.
Fish-hooks were hard to come by.

Charley stopped within the entrance, glaring at her. Bela, looking up,
instantly divined from his bloodshot eyes and from the hand he kept
behind him what was in store. Coolly putting her tackle behind her,
she rose.

She was taller than her supposed father, full-bosomed and round-limbed
as a sculptor's ideal. In a community of waist less, neckless women
she was as slender as a young tree, and held her head like a swan.

She kept her mouth close shut like a hardy boy, and her eyes gleamed
with a fire of resolution which no other pair of eyes in the camp
could match. It was for the conscious superiority of her glance that
she was hated. One from the outside would have remarked quickly how
different she was from the others, but these were a thoughtless,
mongrel people.

Charley flung the little beasts at her feet. "Skin them," he said
thickly. "Now."

She said nothing--words were a waste of time, but watched warily for
his first move.

He repeated his command. Bela saw the end of the stick and smiled.

Charley sprang at her with a snarl of rage, brandishing the stick. She
nimbly evaded the blow. From the ground the wife and mother watched
motionless with wide eyes.

Bela, laughing, ran in and seized the stick as he attempted to raise
it again. They struggled for possession of it, staggering all over
the teepee, falling against the poles, trampling in and out of the
embers. Loseis shielded the pan of dough with her body. Bela finally
wrenched the stick from Charley and in her turn raised it.

Charley's courage went out like a blown lamp. He turned to run. Whack!
came the stick between his shoulders. With a mournful howl he ducked
under the flap, Bela after him. Whack! Whack! A little cloud arose
from his coat at each stroke, and a double wale of dust was left upon
it.

A whoop of derision greeted them as they emerged into the air. Charley
scuttled like a rabbit across the enclosure, and lost himself in the
bush. Bela stood glaring around at the guffawing men.

"You