so bad, but I never once dreamed that I looked half as frightful as I do."
The old squaw glanced toward her daughter, and murmured:
"She has forgotten."
Black-bird nodded.
"What do you see about yourself that looks so frightful?" asked the squaw.
"My skin," answered Nattie; "it used to be fair and white; now it is almost black. My blood must be turning to ink."
Black-bird laughed, and said
"Why, have you forgotten that pappy painted you so as to have you the true Indian color? Do you think that we would have a white girl around in our cabin so long? Somebody might have asked whence she came."
Nattie had indeed forgotten, in the first surprise and dismay at her appearance, that her skin had been stained to a swarthy hue; nor had she ever supposed that the tinge was so deep, or that it
