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She dropped her pack and came running back, her hands at each side of her head with two fingers crooked, like horns, the sign for buffaloes

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She dropped her pack and came running back, her hands at each side of her head with two fingers crooked, like horns, the sign for buffaloes.jpg Seven SoldiersMiniaturesShe had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine quillsSeven SoldiersMiniaturesShe had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine quillsSeven SoldiersMiniaturesShe had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine quillsSeven SoldiersMiniaturesShe had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine quillsSeven SoldiersMiniaturesShe had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine quillsSeven SoldiersMiniaturesShe had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine quillsSeven SoldiersMiniaturesShe had a little fawn-skin bag, worked with red porcupine quills
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We made another crossing the next morning to fetch over the last of the meat we had staged. We returned about noon. The first woman to climb the bank under our camp was Scar’s wife, Blossom. She dropped her pack and came running back, her hands at each side of her head with two fingers crooked, like horns, the sign for buffaloes.

Auteur
Waheenee--An Indian Girl's Story
By Waheenee
as told to Gilbert Livingstone Wilson
Illustrator: Frederick N. Wilson
Published in 1921
Available from gutenberg.org
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420*1200
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