"Is your father" the wife paused abruptly.
"My father is an Indian," the young man answered; his name is North Wind, and he is now journeying among the whites."
"I wonder that he did not give you his name, or some other one characteristic of his race."
"My father gave me an Indian name, and by it he still calls me, as do the red men generally," was the answer; "but my mother was a white woman, and when dying, she called me by a name as nearly like what her own had been as possible. She wished me to carry it among her people, and said that some day it might find me a friend among them. Hers was Augusta Reid."
"Where did she live?"
"I do not know; she never spoke of her early life, or how it came about that she married an Indian."
"Was she content with their rude mode of living?"
