She will not heed us." Pity for all this stark and naked wretchedness left me silent; then, as the lantern's rays fell on this young girl's rags, I remembered my packet.
"Yes, we will sit outside.

But first, I bring you a little gift----" She looked up quickly and drew back a step, "Oh, but such a little gift, Lois--a nothing--a mere jest of mine which we shall enjoy between us.

Take it as I offer it, lightly, and without constraint." Reluctantly she permitted me to lay the packet in her arms, displeasure still darkening her brow.

Then I set my lantern on the puncheon floor and stepped outside, closing the hatchet-battered door behind me.
How long I paced the foggy strip of clearing I do not know.

The mist had thickened to rain when I heard the door creak; and, turning in my tracks, caught the lantern's sparkle on the threshold, and the dull gleam of her Oneida finery.
I picked up the lantern and held it high above us.
Smiling and bashful she stood there in her clinging skirt and wampum-broidered vest, her slender, rounded limbs moulded into soft knee-moccasins of fawn-skin, and the Virgin's Girdle knotted across her thighs in silver-tasselled seawan.
And, "Lord!" said I, surprised by the lovely revelation.