came toward him and held out his hand to my grandfather, and then the rest of the white men did the same all round. Then the little children and the women did the same, and I saw the little ones running to their tents and back again with something in their hands, and they were giving it to each man. The next morning I could not eat, and said to my mother,—
“Let us go back to father—let us not go with grandpa, for he is bad.” My poor mother said, “We can’t go alone; we would all be killed if we go, for we have no rag friend as father has. And dear, you must be good, and grandpa will love you just as well as ever. You must do what he tells you to do.”
Oh, how badly I did feel! I held my two hands over my face, and was crying as if my heart would break.
“My dear, don't cry; here comes grandpa.”
I heard him say,—
“Well, well, is my sweetheart never going to stop crying? Come, dear, I have something for my baby; come and see what it is.”
So I went to him with my head down, not because I was afraid he would whip me,—no—no, for Indians do not whip their children. Oh, how happy I was when he told me he would give me something very beautiful. It was a little cup, and it made me very glad, indeed; and he told me it was to drink water out of, not to wear. He said,—
“I am going to tell you what I did with a beautiful gift I received from my white brothers. It was of the same kind, only it was flat and round, and it was as bright as your cup is now.”
He said to his wife, “Give me my bright hat;” and she did so.
“You see I used to wear it on my head, because my white brother did not tell me what it was for.” Then he
