"I feel a little that way myself, but I don't believe there is anything to eat or drink. You know, father and mother didn't expect us to stay here, or they would have left something for us."
"Can't I go downstairs and look?"
"Yes, if you will keep away from the windows, and tell Red Feather what you are doing."
"Hasn't he got eyes that he can see for himself?" asked the little one as she hurried down the steps.
The chief looked around when he heard the dainty steps, wondering what errand brought her downstairs.
"Red Feather," said the young lady, "I'm hungry; ain't you?"
"No—me no hungry," he answered, his dark face lighting up with pleasure at sight of the picture of innocence.
"Then you must have eaten an awful big breakfast this morning," remarked Dot, walking straight to the cupboard in the farther corner of the room, into which Melville had glanced when he first entered the house; "I know where mother keeps her jam and nice things."
That she knew where the delicacies were stored Dot proved the next minute, when, to her delight, she found everything that heart, or rather appetite, could wish.
There were a jar of currant jam, a pan of cool milk, on which a thick crust of yellow cream had formed, three-fourths of a loaf of bread, and an abundance of butter. Good Mrs. Clarendon left them behind because she had an abundance without them. Little did she dream of the good service they were destined to do.