"Tell me some. See if I can understand them. I am the daughter of a great chief."
Ni-ha-be did not know how very little help the wealth of a girl's father can give her in a quarrel with her school-books. But just such ideas as hers have filled the silly heads of countless young white people of both sexes.
"I can tell you some of it."
"Tell me what made you cry."
"I can't find my father. He is not here. Not in any of them."
"You don't need him now. He was only a pale-face. Many Bears is a great chief. He is your father now."
Something seemed to tell Rita that she would not be wise to arouse her friend's national jealousy. It was better to turn to some of the pictures, and try to explain them. Very funny explanations she gave, too, but she at least knew more than Ni-ha-be, and the latter listened seriously enough.
"Rita, was there ever such a mule as that?—one that could carry a pack under his skin?"
It was Rita's turn now to be proud, for that was one of the pictures she had been able to understand. She had even read enough to be able to tell Ni-ha-be a good deal about a camel.
It was deeply interesting, but the Apache maiden suddenly turned from the page to exclaim,