Into her diminutive mekewap the Willow thrust her head to see that things were as she had left them yesterday.

Then, with a long breath of relief, she put down her four-legged burden and fastened the end of the babiche to one of the cut spruce limbs.
Baree burrowed himself back into the wall of the wigwam, and with head alert--and eyes wide open--watched his companion attentively.

Not a movement of the Willow escaped him.

She was radiant--and happy.

Her laugh, sweet and wild as a bird's trill, set Baree's heart throbbing with a desire to jump about with her among the flowers.
For a time Nepeese seemed to forget Baree.