Poor Rita!
Millions and millions of girls have been "born white," and lived and died with whiter faces than her own rosy but sun-browned beauty could boast, and yet never looked into the fascinating pages of an illustrated magazine.
How could any human being have cast away in the wilderness such a treasure?
Rita was sitting on the grass, with one of the strange prizes open in her lap, rapidly turning the leaves, and more excited by what she saw than were Many Bears and his braves by all they were discovering upon the trampled level around the spring.
"Rita," again exclaimed Ni-ha-be, "what are they?"
"They are talking leaves," said Rita.
CHAPTER II
"Did you say, Murray, there were any higher mountains than these?"
"Higher'n these? Why, Steve, the mountains we crossed away back there, just this side of the Texas border, were twice as high, some of them."