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 spoons from their vests, and commenced eating, jabbering in their strange dialect, and laughing in loud, hoarse voices.

Nattie began to tremble with apprehension of coming evil. She went softly back to the table, and put in her pocket the purple cloth and white beads on which she was about to commence work when so rudely interrupted. She had hardly done this when one of the three intruders approached her, and said, in imperfect English:

"Is you Indian gal?"

Nattie knew not what response to make.

"You'd best tell," the man continued.

"Do I look like one?" Nattie asked.

"I has seen most as white squaws as you," returned the man. "What say? Indian, or no Indian?"

Nattie was silent from fear.

"Oh, well," he answered, turning away, "no matter; all be alike to-morrow."

Then he and his companions drank from a