The little group watched her as she moved safely away. A little black bear
crossed her path as she was entering the wood, and stopped on the way. But
her steps were growing rapid, and, as she did not seem to regard him as a
matter of any consequence, he turned and ran. The company smiled, and so
the peril of the morning seemed to pass away.

The scene would have been comical but for the painful look in the kindly
face of the old Chief of the Cascades. He had come toward the school-house
with high hopes, and what had happened caused him pain. The word
"Potlatch," spoken by the Indian boy, had caused his brow to cloud and his
face to turn dark.

"We will all go into the house," said the master. "Umatilla, will you not
honor us with a visit this morning?"

"No--me come this afternoon for the boy; me wait for him outside. Boston
tilicum, let me speak to you a little. I am a father."

"Yes, and a good father."

"I am a father--you no understand--Boston tilicum--father. I want you to
teach him like a father--not you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Father--teacher--you, Boston tilicum."

"Yes, I understand, and I will be a father teacher to your Benjamin."