At Thanksgiving the Riches were grateful that Horatio, now in the trenches, was alive and had received his box. With them dined their Indian friends, the Red Leaf and the Black Hawk, sister and brother. Their name for Dr. Rich was Mainutung, the Far Hearer, and the friendship dated back half a century. They never questioned him, and he never questioned them. Nevertheless Mainutung often wondered if the Red Leaf had lost a lover in her youth, and she in turn wondered why he had waited till forty-six before marrying Winifred. Christmas came, and all reflected with satisfaction that Horatio must have received his second box. Horatio bore a charmed life, and a letter from one of his comrades made out that he bore a charming life as well. The letter told a tale on Horatio. The writer had been with him in a charge, at a time when respirators were still few. Horatio had handed his own mask to his buddie and dashed ahead to a point where the gas was thin and Germans were thick. In January, 1916, Jean went often on snowshoes to see Ojeeg, the nominal head of the Crane totem, whose little girl was struggling with tuberculosis. In vain she pleaded that he build a separate lodge for Penaycee and give her some air. Ojeeg always shook his head and piled more wood into the stove. February, and Penaycee was so much worse that Ojeeg reverted to the medical methods of his ancestors. Though he refused to build her a lodge because she would certainly catch a new cold, he secretly brought an old medicine man from Potoganissing, and for him he did build a lodge. It was a temporary thing, but the physician sat inside it and called on the thunder to help the child. Ojeeg and his wife and mother saw the lodge shake violently in answer to prayer. Jean and the Bluebird and the Little Pine could not see the vibration. At all events, Penaycee died the next day. The aged Father La Hogue had got wind of the performance, and came a long distance to protest. He was in time to help bury Penaycee on the ancestral island called Keego, and before he left the spot he gave Ojeeg a severe lecture. He should have heeded Miss Rich’s advice, which was sound, though it would have been better had she also advised a little tartar emetic. But Ojeeg stood silent. He was through with medicine and priests. He went home from the funeral and got drunk. Nothing daunted, Jean and the Bluebird built a birch-bark lodge for the Little Pine, who was eleven years old and determined to be a doctor. The first night that the boy slept in it, the Bluebird stood before it with a rifle. March, and mother was not so well. Two or three times she had spells of faintness, and again the doctor came down from Sault Sainte Marie. This time he found a mitral lesion, and told her husband. Dr. Rich in turn told his daughter. Jean then wanted to do all the work, but was not permitted. It was good for her mother to be mildly occupied.