THE PRIZE BASKET 127

“Tt is exactly like Lana’s basket,” Kish’s mother
replied, shaking her head. “I have often seen Lana
working upon hers and this one is so like it that
it would be difficult to tell them apart.”

“Tt was not right for you to make a basket exactly
like Lana’s, my daughter,” declared the chief, sternly.
“Tt was not fair.”

“There was nothing wrong about it,” Kish cried
with a defiant shrug. “There was no reason why I
should not make a basket like Lana’s if I wished to
do so. I have worked long and hard upon it, and
if I am not mistaken, mine is the finer of the two
baskets.”

“Have Lana bring her basket,” her father an-
swered. “I should like to see the two of them to-
gether.”

Lana, informed of the chief’s command, reached
into her hiding-place behind the chests of olachen
grease for her precious basket. The moment she saw
it there in the dim light behind the chests, she knew
that it was not her basket; she knew that some one
had taken hers and put another in its place, one
very like her own, but not exactly like it. Kish must
have done this, for no one else would have played
such a miserable trick upon her. She carried the
counterfeit basket to the chief and placed it beside
the other, which she recognized instantly as her
own.

“This is not my basket,” she stammered. “I did

Sau ee

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