"Has you lost your tongue, too? Well as your eyes, that you can't look up? Never mind, Osceolo. Kitty is sorry for you. Some day Kitty will let you ride her beau'ful White Snowbird; some day." "The Sun Maid will first learn to ride the Snowbird, herself," corrected the Snake-Who-Leaps. "She will begin now." With unquestioning confidence, a confidence that Gaspar did not share, she ran back to the old warrior's side, and stood on tiptoe to be lifted into place. "Ugh!" he grunted in satisfaction. "That is well. The one who has no fear has already conquered the wildest animal. But the White Snowbird is not wild. She has been given an evil name, and it has clung to her as evil always clings," and the One-To-Be-Trusted turned to give his silent attendant a meaning glance. But Osceolo had not yet raised his gaze from the ground, and the reproof fell pointless. Nobody had observed that, from another direction, another youth had quietly led up a beautiful chestnut horse, whose cream-colored mane and tail would have made it a conspicuous object anywhere; but Wahneenah had expected this addition to their equestrian party and, as she turned to look for it, exclaimed in pleasure at its prompt appearance. The Snake-Who-Leaps heard her ejaculation, and evinced his disgust. "Ugh! Is it to teach a lot of women and a worthless pale-faced lad that I have left the comfort of my own lodge this hot summer day?" "The old forget. It was long ago, when I was no bigger than the Sun Maid here, that the One-To-Be-Trusted took me behind him on a wild ride over the prairie. It was the only lesson he ever gave--or needed to give--_me_. I will show him that I am still young enough to remember!" cried Wahneenah, with all the gayety of girlhood, and with so complete a change in her appearance that it was easy to see how she had come to be named The Happy. Even before the teacher had settled the Sun Maid in her tiny blanket saddle, Wahneenah had sprung upon the chestnut's back. As she touched it, a clear, determined, if very youthful voice, shouted behind her: "I am a white man! No Indian shall ever teach me a thing that I can learn for myself!" For suddenly Gaspar remembered the wrongs he had suffered at the red men's hands, and leaped to Tempest's back unaided. Another instant, and the trio of riders dashed away from Muck-otey-pokee in a mad rush that left their disgruntled instructor in doubt which was the better pupil of them all. "Who begins slow finishes fast; but who begins fast may never live to finish slow," he remarked, sententiously; then observing that Osceolo had, for the first time, raised his eyes, he promptly laid a heavy hand upon the youth's shoulder and wheeled him about. "To my wigwam--march!" And Osceolo marched--exactly as if all his limbs were sticks and his joints mechanical.