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T was rather dull for a while, after the aN old chief and his family left. Nattie was sullen and unsocial, not inclined to make the acquaintance of her new keepers.

The three squaws were stupid and idle. They smoked or slept nearly all the time. The old Indian,—Cat-head, was his name,—sat on his mat, fretting over his pains, and complaining because his children did not take better care of him in his age. The boy stayed in the forest, hunting weasels, or, when in the hut, roasted nuts in the coals, and ate them all himeelf.

It was not long before Nattie discovered that