"Come, now, you shall have your own pet
pack," and she led her back to where the young
pony stood silently with the babies.
Nakpa threw back her ears and cast savage
looks at him, while Shunkaska, with no small
annoyance, gathered together as much as he
could of their scattered household effects. The
sleeping brown-skinned babies in their chrysalis-
like hoods were gently lowered from the pony's
back and attached securely to Nakpa's padded
wooden saddle. The family pots and kettles
were divided among the pack ponies. Order
was restored and the village once more in mo-
tion.
"Come now, Nakpa; you have your wish.
You must take good care of my babies. Be
good, because I have trusted you," murmured
the young mother in her softest tones.
"Really, Weeko, you have some common
ground with Nakpa, for you both always want
to have your own way, and stick to it, too! I
tell you, I fear this Long Ears. She is not to
be trusted with babies," remarked Shunkaska,
with a good deal of severity.
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