the ice, and lies down on the blanket and industriously watches the
hole. You know that fish are very inquisitive, and when Mr. Inquiring
Fish comes along to see about that hole, Mr. Indian spears him just back
of the head, pulls him out, and has fried fish for supper.

When Whitey beat it down to the river, to show his boots to a new
audience, he was followed by Injun and Sitting Bull. Trouble was
following, too,--Harrowing Trouble,--but Whitey didn't know it. On the
frozen river were about a dozen tepees, standing up something like big
stacks of cornstalks on a field of frosted glass. So there probably were
about a dozen Indians, lying on their stomachs, watching as many holes
in the ice.

There was not one of those Indians that Whitey thought should miss
seeing those boots. In the first tepee his reception was very
gratifying. Little Eagle was the owner's name, and _he_ didn't care much
about boots, but the decorations on these pleased his taste for the
gaudy, and his eyes sparkled as he grunted his praise.

So it went around the little fishing village, until Whitey entered about
the eighth tepee, and that was where Trouble was right next to him.
Inside the tent it was dark. And Whitey didn't fall into the hole in the
ice--he walked into it. His life was not in danger, because he didn't
mind a little cold water, and the Indian lying there on his stomach,
with his eyes accustomed to the darkness, could see, and he quickly
grabbed Whitey by the shoulders and yanked him out--but, oh! the boots!

They were crinkled and soaked and water-logged and shrunken. And it took
six Indians to get them off, two pulling on each boot, and two to hold
Whitey. And when they were off, Whitey borrowed a pair of moccasins, and