Indian speak true." The tall schoolmaster bowed.
"Nika atte cepa" (I like you much), said the chief.

"Potlatch shall no harm you.

Klahyam klahhye--am!" (Good-by).
Mrs.Woods hurried homeward and tried to calm her excited mind by singing a very heroic old hymn: "Come on, my partners in distress, My comrades in the wilderness, Who still your bodies feel." The blue skies gleamed before her, and overhead wheeled a golden eagle.

To her it was an emblem, a good omen, and her spirit became quiet and happy amid all the contradictions of her rough life.

She sat down at last on the log before her door, with the somewhat strange remark: "I do hate Injuns; _nevertheless_--" Mrs.Woods was accustomed to correct the wrong tendencies of her heart and tongue by this word "nevertheless," which she used as an incomplete sentence.