On a pile of skins in the corner sat a young woman with a child a-nursing; they both looked sadly wild and neglected; yet had she withal a pleasant face, and as she bent over her little one, her long, straight, and black hair falling over him, and murmuring a low and very plaintive melody, I forgot everything save that she was a woman and a mother, and I felt my heart greatly drawn towards her.

So, giving my horse in charge, I ventured in to her, speaking as kindly as I could, and asking to see her child.

She understood me, and with a smile held up her little papoose, as she called him,--who, to say truth, I could not call very pretty.

He seemed to have a wild, shy look, like the offspring of an untamed, animal.

The woman wore a blanket, gaudily fringed, and she had a string of beads on her neck.