e maiden stole a glance at his face and then another. He was
handsome. Softly she reentered the thicket and laid down the little
fawn.

"Promise me never to hunt here again!" she said earnestly, as she came
forth without her pretty burden, and he exacted another promise in
return. Thus Snana lost her fawn, and found a lover.

VI

HAKADAH'S FIRST OFFERING

"Hakadah, coowah!" was the sonorous call that came from a large teepee
in the midst of the Indian encampment. In answer to the summons there
emerged from the woods, which were only a few steps away, a boy,
accompanied by a splendid black dog. There was little in the appearance
of the little fellow to distinguish him from the other Sioux boys.

He hastened to the tent from which he had been summoned, carrying in
his hands a bow and arrows gorgeously painted, while the small birds
and squirrels that he had killed with these weapons dangled from his
belt.

Within the tent sat two old women, one on each side of the fire.
Uncheedah was the boy's grandmother, who had brought up the motherless
child. Wahchewin was only a caller, but she had been invited to remain
and assist in the first personal offering of Hakadah to the "Great
Mystery."

It had been whispered through the teepee village that Uncheedah
intended to give a feast in honor of her grandchild's first sacrificial
offering. This was mere speculation, however, for the clear-sighted old
woman had determined to keep this part of the matter secret until the
offering should be completed, believing that the "Great Mystery" should
be met in silence and dignity.

The boy came rushing into the lodge, followed by his dog Ohitika, who
was wagging his tail promiscuously, as if to say: "Master and I are
really hunters!"

Hakadah breathlessly gave a descriptive narrative of the killing of
each bird and squirrel as he pulled them off his belt and threw them
before his grandmother.

"This blunt-headed arrow," said he, "actually had eyes this morning.
Before the squirrel can dodge around the tree it strikes him in the
head, and, as he falls to the ground, my Ohitika is upon him."

He knelt upon one knee as he talked, his black eyes shining like
evening stars.

"Sit down here," said Uncheedah to the boy; "I have something to say to
you. You see that you are now almost a man. Observe the game you have
brought me! It will not be long before you will leave me, for a warrior
must seek opportunities to make him gre