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Be good, because I have trusted you," murmured the young mother in her softest tones. "Really, Weeko, you have some common ground with Nakpa, for you both always want to have your own way, and stick to it, too! I tell you, I fear this Long Ears. She is not to be trusted with babies," remarked Shunkaska, with a good deal of severity.
Late in the afternoon came Weeko, her face swollen with crying, her beautiful hair cut short in mourning, her garments torn and covered with dust and blood. Her husband had fallen in the fight, and her twin boys she supposed to have been taken captive by the Crows. Singing in a hoarse voice the praises of her departed warrior, she entered the camp.
Be good, because I have trusted you," murmured the young mother in her softest tones. "Really, Weeko, you have some common ground with Nakpa, for you both always want to have your own way, and stick to it, too! I tell you, I fear this Long Ears. She is not to be trusted with babies," remarked Shunkaska, with a good deal of severity.
A a little cast in one of them, but all to the good, Mae. Nice clean little girl, fifteen thou with her, and her old man half owner in the Weeko Woolen Mills. I I need the money, Mae. The customs is digging up dirt again. It ain't like I 'ain't been on the level with you, girl. You knew it had to come sooner or later. Now, didn't you, Mae? Now there's the girl. Didn't you?"
At his wife's answer, he opened his eyes in surprised displeasure. "No, she shall have her own pack again. She wants her twins. I ought never to have taken them from her!" Weeko approached Nakpa as she stood alone and unfriended in the face of her little world, all of whom considered that she had committed the unpardonable sin.
The cowskin tent became detached from her saddle, and a moment later Nakpa stood free. Her sides worked like a bellows as she stood there, meekly indignant, apparently considering herself to be the victim of an uncalled-for misunderstanding. "I should put an arrow through her at once, only she is not worth a good arrow," said Shunkaska, or White Dog, the husband of Weeko.
As for her, she evidently felt that her misfortunes had not been of her own making. She gave a hesitating, sidelong look at her mistress. "Nakpa, you should not have acted so. I knew you were stronger than the others, therefore I gave you that load," said Weeko in a conciliatory tone, and patted her on the nose.
At his wife's answer, he opened his eyes in surprised displeasure. "No, she shall have her own pack again. She wants her twins. I ought never to have taken them from her!" Weeko approached Nakpa as she stood alone and unfriended in the face of her little world, all of whom considered that she had committed the unpardonable sin.
As Weeko's first-born, they were beautifully dressed; even the saddle and bridle were daintily worked by her own hands. The caravan was now in motion, and Weeko started all her ponies after the leader, while she adjusted the mule's clumsy burden of kettles and other household gear. In a moment: "Go on, let us see how you move with your new load!
Zeezeewin, a sister to Weeko, who was in the village, came forward and released the children, as Nakpa gave a low whinny and stopped. "Sing a Brave-Heart song for the Long-Eared One! She has escaped alone with her charge. She is entitled to wear an eagle's feather! Look at the arrow in her saddle! and more, she has a knife-wound in her jaw and an arrow-cut on her hind leg.
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