they jingled against each other.

While Timid Hare was peeping out of the corners of her eyes at this
beautiful sight. Sweet Grass was in her turn examining the little
captive.

"You are--changed," she said slowly. "What has The Stone been doing?
Ugh! I see. She has tried to make a Dahcota out of you. Well, it may
be well, and yet, I think I liked you better as you were before."

"Lay the rushes here, beside me," she continued. "And now, little
Timid Hare, tell me about The Stone. Is she good to you? And Black
Bull--does he treat you well?"

Sweet Grass was tender as a sister as she asked these questions and
many others. And Timid Hare's tongue slowly became brave. She told of
the hard work which The Stone made her do. She showed scars on her
hands which the work had left. And--yes--there were also scars on the
little back from the cruel touch of The Stone's switch.

But Black Bull--poor Black Bull! The child spoke of him with loving
pity. "I am sorry for him," she said. "He has only his dog to make
him happy."

"Would you like to live with me?" asked Sweet Grass, when the story was
finished.

"Oh-h!" The little girl drew a long sigh of wonder and delight. If
only it were possible!