I watched my chance, and when no one noticed, I disappeared.  I crept up the stairs as quietly as I could in my squeaking shoes,—­my moccasins had been exchanged for shoes.  Along the hall I passed, without knowing whither I was going.  Turning aside to an open door, I found a large room with three white beds in it.  The windows were covered with dark green curtains, which made the room very dim.  Thankful that no one was there, I directed my steps toward the corner farthest from the door.  On my hands and knees I crawled under the bed, and cuddled myself in the dark corner.

From my hiding place I peered out, shuddering with fear whenever I heard footsteps near by.  Though in the hall loud voices were calling my name, and I knew that even Judewin was searching for me, I did not open my mouth to answer.  Then the steps were quickened and the voices became excited.  The sounds came nearer and nearer.  Women and girls entered the room.  I held my breath and watched them open closet doors and peep behind large trunks.  Some one threw up the curtains, and the room was filled with sudden light.  What caused them to stoop and look under the bed I do not know.  I remember being dragged out, though I resisted by kicking and scratching wildly.  In spite of myself, I was carried downstairs and tied fast in a chair.

I cried aloud, shaking my head all the while until I felt the cold blades of the scissors against my neck, and heard them gnaw off one of my thick braids.  Then I lost my spirit.  Since the day I was taken from my mother I had suffered extreme indignities.  People had stared at me.  I had been tossed about in the air like a wooden puppet.  And now my long hair was shingled like a coward’s!  In my anguish I moaned for my mother, but no one came to comfort me.  Not a soul reasoned quietly with me, as my own mother used to do; for now I was only one of many little animals driven by a herder.

III.

The snow episode.

A short time after our arrival we three Dakotas were playing in the snowdrift.  We were all still deaf to the English language, excepting Judewin, who always heard such puzzling things.  One morning we learned through her ears that we were forbidden to fall lengthwise in the snow, as we had been doing, to see our own impressions.  However, before many hours we had forgotten the order, and were having great sport in the snow, when a shrill voice called us.  Looking up, we saw an imperative hand beckoning us into the house.  We shook the snow off ourselves, and started toward the woman as slowly as we dared.

Judewin said:  “Now the paleface is angry with us.  She is going to punish us for falling into the snow.  If she looks straight into your eyes and talks loudly, you must wait until she stops.  Then, after a tiny pause, say, ‘No.’” The rest of the way we practiced upon the little word “no.”