"At first," said Rain, "when mother went over the Wolf Trail, I was, oh, so lonely here! You used to come, to comfort me. I only heard your voice, and when I saw you at last you were like a ghost. I saw the lodge poles through you, and was so frightened! Now you grow clear, just like a person, making my couch all rumpled."
"Come, sit beside me, Dream!"
"Not now," she answered gently. "I made the holy rites because two men are coming here."
"Who are they?"
"Two men came up the pass, Blackfeet, and chiefs. They have killed an elk, to bring the meat and skin, a pack-horse load, to hang up at the door of my lodge. They all do that who come, else must I hunt, and they would wait half a day before they saw me. These men have come from the Great Plains, a seven sun's journey, to ask my help in trouble. They pray so earnestly to the Sun! One of them has a daughter, the other a boy, in love, but these poor lovers are parted because the young man is a prisoner with the Sparrowhawks. The fathers come to ask me if he lives. And I must show them how to get the young warrior back. Else will the girl think that her heart is broken, and that is just as bad as a broken heart."
"How far away are these fathers?"
"They will come just before the sun sets. They have so little hope. They do not truly believe that I can help them, but the girl pleaded, and her mother nagged, so of course they had to come. I will send them away in the morning with big hearts. The Sun has pity on them."
"Rain, dear," he asked, "when I got home I found a white man there. I didn't speak and greet him, because I didn't know if he is good. Is he good?"
"I see a white trapper," she said, "and a girl grieving for him because she jilted him, and cannot get him back. She never will—the cat! Her name is Nan. Far in the East she lives, by the salt water—her fingers so tired, hemming shirts all day! How I do pity these poor washed-out squaws of your Race! Slaves they are! Slaves!"
"But the trapper?"