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Updated: May 29, 2025
She awoke next morning with her hand clutching the place where the sock lay hidden, and saw a kind face bending over her. It belonged to the same man who had held her when she roused from the snow-chill. "What is it?" he asked gently. He pointed to her hand. "It is my charm. It is to bring me good." "May I see it?" The man's voice was so kind that it filled Timid Hare with perfect trust.
If they would only hurry! She suddenly felt drowsy the snow-chill was benumbing her whole body, and somehow she no longer cared whether she was found or not. She tottered, fell. The next thing she knew, she was lying in the arms of a man with kind blue eyes. He was smiling at her, and he was white! Another man, white like himself, was rubbing her arms and legs.
Migratory birds fled busily northward robins, flute-voiced blue-birds, warblers of many species, sparrows of different kinds, shore birds and ducks, the sweet-songed thrushes. Little tepid breezes wandered up and down, warm in contrast to the faint snow-chill that even yet lingered in the shadows.
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