Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-03-28

east and west and all around her. There
was nowhere any sign of. the child.
Running with clnched fists to the near
est teepees, she called: Has any one seen
my baby? He is gone My little son is
gone" We
''Hinnu! Hinnuw exclaimed the women,
rising to their feet and rushing out of their
wigwams.
1--WE have not seen your child! What
has happened?' queried the women.
With great tears in her eyes the mother
told her story. e.
1--WE will search with you," they said to
her as she started off.
They met the returning husbands, who
turned about and Joined in the hunt for
the missing child. Along the shore Of the
lakes, among the high-grown reeds, they
looked In vain. He was nowhere to be
found After many days and nights the
search was given up. 1t was sad, indeed,
to hear the mother wailing aloud for her
little son.
1t was growing late in the autumn The
The teepees around the lakes were gone,
save one lonely dwelling.
Till the winter snow covered the ground
and ice covered the lakes, the wailing
woman's voice was heard from that soli-
tary wigwam. From some far distance was
also the sound Of the fathers voice singing
a sad song.
Thus ten summers and as many winters
have come and gone since the strange dis
appearance Of the little child. Every
autumn with the hunters came the I'M
happy parents or the lost BABY to search
again for him.
Toward the latter part Of the tenth sea-
son, when, one by one, the teepeeS were
folded and the families went away from
the lake region, the mother walked again
along the lake shore weeping. One even
ing, across the lake from where the crying
woman stood, pair of bright black eyes
peered at her through the tall reeds and
wild rice. little wild boy stopped his
play among the tall grasses. His long
loose hair hanging down his brown back
and shoulders was carelessly tossed from
his round face. He wore a loin cloth of
woven sweet grass. Crouching low to the
marshy ground, he listened to the wailing
voice. AS the voice grew hoarse and only
sobs shook the slender figure of the woman
the eyes of the wild boy grew dim and wet.
At length, when the moaning ceased, he
sprang to his feet and ran like a nymph
with swift outstretched toes. He rushed
into a small hut of reeds and grasses.
Mother! Mother! Tell me what voice
it was 1 heard which pleased my ears, but
made my eyes grow wet.' said he, breath
less.
"Han, my son." grunted a big. ugly toad.
at was the voice of a weeping woman you
heard. My son, do not say you like it. Do
not tell me it brought tears to your eyes
You have never heard me weep. can
please your ear and break your heart. Lis
tent replied the great Old toad.
Stepping outside, she stood by the en-
trance way She was old and badly puffed
out She had rearedga large family of little
toads but none of them had aroused her
love, nor ever grieved her. She had heard
the wailing human VOICE and marveled at
sound. Now, IN her great desire to keep
the stolen boy awhile longer, she ventured
to cry as the Dakota woman does. In
gruff coarse voice she broke forth:
"Hin=hin. doe-skinI Hin-hin, ermine, err
mine! Hip.hin. red blanket with white Dor
derw a. X
Not knowing that the syllables of a Da-
kota's cry are the names of loved ones
gone, the ugly toad mother sought to please
articles Having shrieked in torturing
voice and mouthed eStravagant names, the
cd toad rolled her fearless eyes with great
satisfaction. Hopping back into her dwell
ing, she asked: ~ 80
my SON. did my voice bring tears to your
eyes? Did my words bring gladness to
your ears? Do you not like my wailing
better?'
mo nor pouted the boy with some i'm
patience. II want to hear the weman's
voice! Tell me-. mother. why the human
| voice stirs all my feelings"
| The toad mother said within her breast
1.-The human child has heard and seen his
| real mother 1 cannot keep him longer, I
| fear Oh, no, cannot give away the pretty
creature have taught to call me mother
all these many winters.
| Mother" went on the child voice. tell
| me one thing. Tell me why my little broth
| ers and sisters are all unlike me-,
| The big, ugly toad. looking at her pudgy
| children, said: 1.-THE eldest is always best
| This reply quieted the boy for awhile.
Very closely watched the old toad mother
| her stolen human son. When by chance he
| started of alone, she showed out one of her
| own children after him, saying: do not
| come back without your big brother"
Thus the wild boy with the long, loose
| hair sits every day on marshy island hid
| among the tall reeds. But he is not alone
| Always at his feet hops a little toad broth
| er. One day an Indian hunter, wading In