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My father stabled his horses at night in our lodge, in a little corral fenced off against the wall

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My father stabled his horses at night in our lodge, in a little corral fenced off against the wall.jpg To eke out our store of corn and keep the pot boiling, my father hunted much of the timeThumbnailsTurtle, I think, was the last woman in the tribe to use an old-fashioned, bone-bladed hoeTo eke out our store of corn and keep the pot boiling, my father hunted much of the timeThumbnailsTurtle, I think, was the last woman in the tribe to use an old-fashioned, bone-bladed hoeTo eke out our store of corn and keep the pot boiling, my father hunted much of the timeThumbnailsTurtle, I think, was the last woman in the tribe to use an old-fashioned, bone-bladed hoeTo eke out our store of corn and keep the pot boiling, my father hunted much of the timeThumbnailsTurtle, I think, was the last woman in the tribe to use an old-fashioned, bone-bladed hoeTo eke out our store of corn and keep the pot boiling, my father hunted much of the timeThumbnailsTurtle, I think, was the last woman in the tribe to use an old-fashioned, bone-bladed hoe
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My father stabled his horses at night in our lodge, in a little corral fenced off against the wall. “I do not want the Sioux to steal them,” he used to say. In the morning, after breakfast, he drove them out upon the prairie, to pasture, but brought them in again before sunset. In very cold weather my mothers cut down young cottonwoods and let our horses browse on the tender branches.

Author
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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