and admiration, and when they would snuggle up closer to pa, he
would put his hand on their heads and pat their hair, and look
into their big black eyes sort of tender, and pinch their brown
cheeks, and chuck them under the chin, and tell them that the
great father loved them, and that he hoped the time would come
when every good Indian would look upon his squaw, the mother of
his children, as the greatest boon that could be given to man, and
that the now despised squaw would be placed on a pedestal and
honored by all, and worshiped as she ought to be.

[Illustration: The Squaws Seemed to Be Worshiping Pa.]

That was all right enough, but Pa never ought to have gone so far
as to advise them to strike for their rights, and refuse to be
longer looked upon as beasts of burden, but demand recognition as
equals, and refuse longer to be drudges. I could see that trouble
was brewing, for every squaw insisted on kissing the great father,
and then there came a baneful light in their eyes, and they drew
away together and began to talk excitedly, and Pa said he guessed
they were organizing a woman's rights union. Pa and the Carlisle
Indian and I went out for a stroll in the forest, and were gone an
hour or so, and Pa got tired and he and I went back to camp before
the Carlisle Indian did, and when we got in sight of camp we could
see by the commotion that the squaw strike was on, 'cause the
squaws were talking loud and the Indians were getting their guns
and it looked like war. We crawled up close, and the squaws drew
butcher knives and made a rush on the Indians, and the Indians
weakened, and the squaws tied their hands and feet, and then the
squaws had a war dance, and they told the Indians that they were
now the bosses, and would hereafter run the affairs of the tribe,