"You are Kitty Sholto," said the dark girl.
"How did you know that?" exclaimed Kitty, opening her eyes.
"There is no other white girl in the country."
"I don't know you," said Kitty.
The other shrugged and smiled a little. "There are plenty red girls," she said. "I am Annie Crossfox."
"Where do you live?"
Nahnya pointed vaguely downstream. "My people are the Sapi Indians," she said.
"But that is way down by the canyon," said Kitty. "Do you travel so far by yourself?"
"I like travel by myself," Nahnya said deprecatingly. "I hunt and I fish. People think I am crazy. They say it is like a man!"
Each thought the other a wonderful creature. Nahnya marvelled at the colour of Kitty's eyes, green-gray like the Spirit River itself, and her cheeks like snow—snow with the light of the setting sun upon it. Her delicacy and gentleness seemed like the qualities of a superior creature. Kitty for her part was no less admiring of Nahnya's strength and courage. The gentle Kitty like most girls had often wished that she had been born in one of her brother's places. To be able to go where one pleased like a man! this stirred her imagination. Each of these lonely girls was hungry for a woman friend; therein lay the explanation of their kind and wistful looks upon each other.