Accordingly, the two children, in their gor-
geously beaded buckskin hoods, were sus-
pended upon either side of the pony's saddle.
As Weeko's first-born, they were beautifully
dressed; even the saddle and bridle were dain-
tily worked by her own hands.
The caravan was now in motion, and Weeko
started all her ponies after the leader, while
she adjusted the mule's clumsy burden of ket-
tles and other household gear. In a mo-
ment:
"Go on, let us see how you move with your
new load! Go on!" she exclaimed again, with
a light blow of the horse-hair lariat, as the an-
imal stood perfectly still.
Nakpa simply gave an angry side glance at
her load and shifted her position once or twice.
Then she threw herself headlong into the air
and landed stiff-legged, uttering at the same time
her unearthly protest. First she dove straight
through the crowd, then proceeded in a circle,
her heels describing wonderful curves and
sweeps in the air. Her pack, too, began to
come to pieces and to take forced flights from
her undignified body and heels, in the midst of
the screams of women and children, the barking
of dogs, and the war-whoops of the amused
young braves.
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