Then she got up, put away
whatever food was left from the supper, and began to spread out some
buffalo skins, first for her son's bed on his side of the tepee, then
on her own side for herself to sleep on.
"You can lie where you are," she told Timid Hare, pointing to the pile
of skins on which the child was crouching.
Soon afterwards The Stone and Black Bull were quietly sleeping, while
the little captive, with tears rolling down her cheeks, lay thinking of
the kind friends far away and of the dreadful things that might happen
on the morrow. All at once she remembered the baby's sock hidden in
her dress, and of White Mink's words. Perhaps--perhaps--the sock would
help her. But how? She must guard it, at any rate; not even The Stone
should discover it. Kind sleep was already drawing near. The tired
eyes no longer shed tears. Till morning should come, Timid Hare was
free from trouble.
HARD WORK
The sun, shining into the tepee through the opening over the fireplace,
roused The Stone to her day's work. She lost no time in setting a task
for her little slave. Handing her a needle carved from the bone of a
deer and thread made of a deer's sinew, she hade her sew up a rent in
the skin curtain of the doorway.
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