Lana, who gave him a lifeless hand from the green folds of her camblet. My Oneidas, who had finished their somewhat ominous painting, came from the other hut in company with the Yellow Moth, the latter now painted for the first time in a brilliant and poisonous yellow. All these people I made acquainted one with another. Lois was very gracious to them all, using what Indian words she knew in her winning greetings — and using them quite wrongly — God bless her!

Then the Yellow Moth hung my new blue blanket, which I had lately drawn from our Commissary of Issues, across the door of my hut; two huge boatmen came up with Lana’s box, swung between them, and deposited it within the hut.

“By the time you are ready,” said I, “we will have a breakfast for you