"What is that thing tied round your neck, Machecawa?" said Bearie, the second son, a short, well knit, sturdy-looking youth of eighteen, whose every expression reflected a bright, happy, generous disposition. "She am my Manitou," replied the Indian. "What is a Manitou? Every Indian you meet with seems to differ on the subject." "Some tam she am wan ting, some tam she am anodder." "That is evading the question," said Chrissy. "What kind of a Manitou have you got inside of that little bag which is tied round your neck?" persisted Bearie. "Will you let me see it?" "No! No!! No!!!" he said excitedly. "My Manitou she am not be pleese." "Come, now, old man," he said. "Tell us all about it." "What is it?" "How did you get it?" "What is it for?" "Waal," he said, reluctantly, "When I am a boy, me, just become a man, my fadder, he say, 'Machecawa, tam you got a manitou.' My face he paint black, black. He say, heem, 'you no eat no teeng seex days.' By em by I am dream some teeng, me, dat some teeng she am my manitou. She help me kill beeg bear; she mak dem Iroquois dogs run like one wild moose. My fadder she am pleese; she make my manitou on my arm--see!" he said, rolling up his sleeve. On his shoulder was the rude outline of a fish, which had been tatooed with sharp bones and with the juice of berries rubbed in. "But what is in the little bag?" asked Bearie. "Will you let me see it?" After a good deal of reluctance he gave in at last, and two curious boys untied the precious parcel, while the others, equally curious, looked over his shoulders at a few old broken fish bones which were all the little bag contained. "Well, old man," said Bearie, slowly replacing the sacred relics, "we put our faith in something better than that. The white man trusts the Great Spirit in heaven to care for him and to take him to heaven when he dies." "Any bear in hebben?" asked the Indian. "No," said Bearie, "only good people." "Dat hebben she am no good for big Injun," said Machecawa, sadly. "De happy hunting ground she am full of moose, buffalo, bear, beaver. She am far, far away at de end of land, where de sun she sleep--two, tree moons away. One beeg dog she am cross, an' she bark at dead Injun, but he go on, an' on, an' on, an' den he am glad." It began to dawn upon the vigilant mother at length that it was not so much the wonders of civilization nor the desire to "speak his thoughts from books" that led Machecawa day after day to the Wigwam, as an ever-increasing interest in her fun-loving daughter, Abbie, who was a year younger than Chrissy, and who seemed unconscious of the fact that the eyes of the red chief were ever upon her.