because of their fierce war spirit. It was this that made them drive
other tribes before them, so that they became free to roam over the
prairies and enjoy the richest hunting grounds."

"I cannot help myself," now thought the child. "If I should run away,
the braves would either find and kill me, or I should be devoured by
the hungry wolves that go forth at nightfall."

But might not Three Bears make up a war party and go forth to seek her?
"Alas! that may not be," Timid Hare told herself. "My dear father
would himself meet death at the hands of these cruel warriors."

The rent in the curtain was nearly sewed up when Black Bull stole into
the lodge. He wanted to talk to the little stranger with eyes sad like
his own, and he did not wish his mother to know it.

Behind Black Bull came his dog, wolfish-looking like most of his breed,
but as Black Bull squatted in his corner, the animal crouched close at
his master's side as though he loved him.

"Poor fellow, he has a pet to follow him about just as I had at home,"
thought Timid Hare. "Perhaps by-and-by the dog may learn to love me
too." There was a big lump in the little girl's throat, and she
coughed as she tried to choke it back.

"Hard work," said Black Bull as he watched her pulling the coarse
thread through the buffalo skin and trying not to tear it. "Hard
work," he repeated. "Too bad."

Timid Hare nodded. "Good dog," she ventured after a while, looking at