'Silly!' said Taffy, and she stamped her foot, because she saw a
shoal of very big carp going up the river just when her Daddy
couldn't use his spear.

'Don't bother grown-ups,' said Tegumai, so busy with his
spear-mending that he did not turn round.

'I aren't, said Taffy. 'I only want him to do what I want him to
do, and he won't understand.'

'Then don't bother me, said Tegumai, and he went on pulling and
straining at the deer-sinews with his mouth full of loose ends.
The Stranger-man--a genuine Tewara he was--sat down on the grass,
and Taffy showed him what her Daddy was doing. The Stranger-man
thought, this is a very wonderful child. She stamps her foot at
me and she makes faces. She must be the daughter of that noble
Chief who is so great that he won't take any notice of me.' So he
smiled more politely than ever.

'Now,' said Taffy, 'I want you to go to my Mummy, because your
legs are longer than mine, and you won't fall into the
beaver-swamp, and ask for Daddy's other spear--the one with the
black handle that hangs over our fireplace.'

The Stranger-man (and he was a Tewara) thought, 'This is a very,
very wonderful child. She waves her arms and she shouts at me,
but I don't understand a word of what she says. But if I don't do
what she wants, I greatly fear that that haughty Chief,
Man-who-turns-his-back-on-callers, will be angry.' He got up and