"Oh, so many squaws!"
"All of them so tall, too. I wonder if pale-face squaws ever grow as tall as that? Look at the things on their heads."
"See!" exclaimed Rita. "All clothes! No squaws in them."
"Great chief. Ever so many squaws. Lose part of them. Keep their blankets."
Rita could not quite explain the matter, but she knew better than that.
The series of pictures which so excited and puzzled the two Indian maidens was nothing in the world but what the publishers of that magazine called "A Fashion Plate Supplement."
There was enough there, indeed, to have puzzled anybody. Gradually they began to understand it a little, and their wonder grew accordingly.
"Are they not ugly?" said Ni-ha-be. "Think of being compelled to wear such things. I suppose, if they won't put them on, they get beaten. Ugh! All black things."
"No. Only black in the pictures. Many colors. It says so; 'red,' 'yellow'—all colors."
That was better, and Ni-ha-be could pity the poor white squaws a little less. Rita allowed her to take that magazine into her own keeping; but mile after mile went by, and all she found in it worth studying was that wonderful array of dresses, with and without occupants. She had never dreamed of such things before, and her bright young face grew almost troubled in its expression.