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"I am so glad you are poor," says Mona. "If you were rich or even well off, I should never consent,—never!" Of course this was on the day after their return to England, before his own people knew of their arrival. "Not even to me?" with a sardonic laugh..
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"Ah," replied the father, "you see here people who are truly poor. We have no food. For many days the buffalo did not come in sight, and we looked for deer and other animals, which people eat, and when these had all been killed we began to starve. Then I said, 'We will not stay here to die from hunger,' and we set out for the mountains. This is the fourth night of our travels." Lone Feather looked at her for a moment in silence. She spoke again. He could not understand her speech, for she belonged to another tribe. By signs she made him know that she wished him to come into her lodge and rest. Lone Feather entered. Indeed, no sound disturbs the sacred silence save the crisp rustle of the dead leaves, as they are trodden into the ground. He finishes; but, to his amazement, and a good deal to his chagrin, on looking at Mona he finds she is wreathed in smiles,—nay, is in fact convulsed with silent laughter..
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