But he was roused sooner than they. A hand fell on his shoulder. A hand whose touch could be as gentle as a woman's, but was now like a steel band crushing the very bones. "Osceolo!" "Yes, Black Partridge," quavered the terrified lad. "You will come to my tepee. Alone!" CHAPTER VII. A THREEFOLD CORD IS STRONGEST. "She is a spirit. I know that nothing can harm her. Yet many things can harm me. I have no desire to suffer any further anxiety. Therefore--this. My Girl-Child, my White Papoose, come here." The Sun Maid reluctantly obeyed. It was the morning after her perilous ride on the back of an untamed horse and her joyful reunion with Gaspar, her old playmate of the Fort. The two were now just without the wigwam of Wahneenah, sitting clasped in each other's arms, as if fearful that a fresh separation awaited them should they once relinquish this tight hold of one another; and it was in much the same feeling that the foster-mother regarded them. "But why, Other Mother? I do love my Gaspar boy. I did know him always." "You've known me two years, Kitty," corrected the truthful lad. "But I suppose that is as long as you can remember. You're such a baby." "How old is the Sun Maid--as you white people reckon ages?" asked Wahneenah. "She is five years old. Her birthday was on the Fourth of July. We had a celebration. Our Captain fired as many rounds of ammunition as she was years old. The mothers made her a cake, with sugar on the top, and with five little candles they made themselves on purpose, and colored with strawberry juice. Oh, surely, there never was such a cake in all the world as they made for our 'baby!'" cried the lad, forgetting for the moment present troubles in this delightful memory. "Well, there are other women who can make other cakes," said Wahneenah, with ready jealousy. "Oh, but an Indian cake--" began Gaspar, then stopped abruptly, frightened at his own boldness. Wahneenah smiled. For small Kitty was swift to see the change in her playmate's face, and her own caught, for an instant, a reflection of its fear. The foster-mother wished to banish this fear. "Wahneenah likes those who say their thoughts out straight and clear. She is the sister of the Man-Who-Cannot-Lie. It is the crime of the pale-faces that they will lie, and always. Wherefore, they are always in danger. Take warning. Learn to be truth-tellers, like the Pottawatomies, and you will have no trouble." A quick retort rose to Gaspar's lips, but he subdued it. Then he watched what was being done to Kitty, and a faint smile brightened his face, that had been so far too gloomy for his years. Wahneenah had made a long rope of horsehair, gaily adorned with beads and trinkets, and was fastening it about the Sun Maid's waist. The little one submitted merrily, at first; but when it flashed through her mind that she was thus being made a prisoner, being "tied up," she burst into a paroxysm of tears and temper that astonished the others, and even herself.