Red paints were scattered over the snow, in ac-
cordance with Indian custom, and the farewell
song was sung.
Since that day the place has been known to
the Sioux as Shunkahanakapi--the Grave of the
Dog.
PART TWO
THE WOMAN
I
WINONA, THE WOMAN-CHILD
Hush, hushaby, little woman!
Be brave and weep not!
The spirits sleep not;
'Tis they who ordain
To woman, pain.
Hush, hushaby, little woman!
Now, all things bearing,
A new gift sharing
From those above--
To woman, love.
--Sioux Lullaby.
"Chinto, weyanna! Yes, indeed; she
is a real little woman," declares the old
grandmother, as she receives and crit-
ically examines the tiny bit of humanity.
There is no remark as to the color of its hair
or eyes, both so black as almost to be blue, but
the old woman scans sharply the delicate pro-
file of the baby face.
"Ah, she has the nose of her ancestors! Lips
thin as a leaf, and eyes bright as stars in mid-
winter!" she exclaims, as she passes on the furry
bundle to the other grandmother for her inspec-
tion.
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