itch that she held in her
hand. "Something else may also help you to gain the spirit of a red
woman. Of that, by-and-by. And now you shall fetch me fresh water
from the spring. Black Bull, put yourself to some use. Show the girl
where the water may be drawn."

Handing an earthen crock to Timid Hare, she turned to her own
work--that of making dye out of the clay she had got the day before.

Timid Hare, holding the big crock as carefully as possible on her
shoulder, followed Black Bull out of the tepee. It seemed good to be
outdoors, even in a village of the Dahcotas. In the doorway of the
next lodge stood a young woman with pleasant eyes and beautiful glossy
hair. She looked curiously at the little girl, for she had just heard
of her capture. She must have pitied the child, for she smiled kindly
at her. Black Bull, catching the smile, said, "The Fountain, this is
Timid Hare. Is she not strange to look upon--so fair? She must be
like the pale-faces I have never seen."

The Fountain had no chance to answer, for Black Bull now turned to his
companion. "Hurry, Timid Hare, hurry, lest my mother be angry and beat
you."

As the two went on their way, the little girl saw other children like
herself, playing together and laughing happily. One of them had her
doll, and was carrying it in a baby-cradle on her back. She was
pretending it was too small to walk, and was singing a lullaby to make
it go to sleep.

All the children stopped to look at the little stranger.

"A Mandan! Oof!" cried one.

"Her hair is not black like ours," said another.

"Nor is her skin as dark. She is more like the pale-faces whom we
hate," remarked a third.

Then they turned to their play as if she were not worth noticing, and
poor little Timid Hare blushed for shame. It was hard indeed that even
the children should despise her.

A little farther on she noticed a group of men dancing together in the
sunlight. They were much taller than the Mandan braves, and noble to
look upon, as Black Bull had said. But to the little girl holding in
mind the capture of the day before, they seemed cruel and fearful even
now while they were dancing.

"The Dahcotas dance much--always," explained Black Bull, pointing to
the men. "We have many, many dances. For everything there is a dance.
When we feast, and before we hunt, when councils are held, when guests
come among us, we dance. It is a noble thing to dance. Sometimes," he
went on,