She was as light of foot as an antelope, and her moccasins hardly made a sound upon the grass as she parted the bushes and looked in upon Rita's hiding-place.
"Weeping? The talking leaves have been scolding her! I will burn them! They shall not say things to make her cry!"
In a moment more her arms were around the neck of her adopted sister. It was plain enough that the two girls loved each other dearly.
"Rita, what is the matter? Have they said strong words to you?"
"No, Ni-ha-be; good words, all of them. Only I cannot understand them all."
"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."