--{ TO CARIBOO AND BACK }--

sound had not that moment struck her. It was —
something between a chuckle and a gurgle.

“What ever made that noise?” said Betty
out loud.

She wasn’t long in finding out, when she
looked around again. The wonder was she
hadn’t seen it before. For there, in plain sight,
bolt upright against the trunk of a fir tree, was
the particular baby she had come to see, laced
into its papoose basket, out of which its round
brown face looked elfishly at her. The basket
was a long contrivance, woven out of grasses
and reeds in an ornamental pattern. It was
stiff and compact, so that when it was stood on
end and safely balanced the infant inside could
look about and see the world.

“Why, you darling!” cried Betty running to
it. “Did they leave you here all alone? Did
they forget you? Don’t be frightened, baby
dear, Betty will take care of you!”

For a while time was forgotten. Betty
talked to the fat brown papoose and played with
it, always trying to bring a smile to the solemn
little face and sometimes succeeding. But all
the time she was wondering what had become
of the baby’s mother, the squaw who had looked

[147]