"I didn't think of that. Run, Payuchi, run faster." But they were in time after all, and were stretched out on their mats some minutes before their father and Sholoc came in.

Macana's first duty in the morning was to attend to the baby, whose wide-open black eyes gave the only sign that it was awake. She unfastened it from the basket and unwrapped it, rubbing the little body over with its morning bath of grease until the firm skin shone as if varnished. When it had nursed and was comfortable, she put the little one back in its cradle basket, which she leaned up against the side of the hut, where the little prisoner might see all that was going on.

Instead of the usual breakfast of acorn meal mush, the children had a plentiful meal of fish which their mother had saved from the feast of the night before.

"I didn't think any one could catch so many fish as uncle brought last night," said Cleeta, as she helped herself to a piece of yellowtail.

"Yes, they do, though," said Payuchi. "Last night, after supper, uncle told the men some fine stories. I think he has been in places which none of our people have ever seen.

"He told us that once he journeyed many moons toward the land of snow and ice until he came to the country of the Klamath tribe, where he stayed a long time. He said that when they fish they drive posts made of young trees into the bottom of the river and then weave willow boughs in and out until there is a wall of posts and boughs clear across the stream. Then the big red fish come up from the great water into the river. They come, uncle said, so many no one can count them, and the ones behind push against those in front until they are all crowded against the wall, and then the Klamath men catch them with spears and nets until there is food enough for all, and many fish to dry."

"I should like to see that. What else did he tell you?" asked Gesnip.

"He said he visited one place where the great salt water comes into the land and is so big it takes many days to journey round it. Here the people eat fish, clams, and mussels instead of acorns and roots. On the sh.o.r.e they have their feasting ground where they go to eat and dance and tell big stories, and; sometimes to make an offering. So many people go there, uncle said, that the sh.e.l.ls they have left make a hill, a hill just of sh.e.l.ls that is many steps high. From the top of it one may look over the water, which is so long no eye can see the end of it."

"What else did you hear?" asked Gesnip.

"Nothing more, for mother called me," replied her brother. "I should like to hear more of those stories, though."

"Mother," asked Gesnip, as she finished her breakfast, "when am I to begin to braid mats for the new jacal?"

"Soon," replied Macana. "This morning you and Payuchi must gather the tule. Have a large pile when I come home." So saying, the mother strapped the baby on her back and, accompanied by the younger children, went out with other women of the tribe to gather the white acorns from the oaks on the highlands pear the mountains.

The December wind, from the snow-capped peaks, chilled and cut with its icy breath their scantily clothed bodies, but for hours they worked picking up the scattered nuts. The labors of an Indian mother ceased only while she slept.

"Come, Payuchi," said Gesnip, "let us go down to the river and get tules."

"All right," replied the boy, readily. "Sholoc is going down too. He is going to show the men how to make log canoes like his instead of the tule canoes our people use. But I like the tule canoes, because I can use my feet for paddles." When they reached the river, which was really a lagoon or arm of the sea, the children stopped to watch the men at work. A large log, washed down from the mountains by some flood, lay on the bank. It was good hard wood, and the children saw that it was smoking in three places.

"This is going to make two canoes, but neither one will be so big, as uncle's," said Payuchi.

"How can it make two canoes if they burn it up?" asked his sister.

"You are stupid, Gesnip," said her brother. "Don't you see they are burning it to separate it into two parts? Then they will burn each log into the shape of a boat, finishing it up with axes of bone or horn.

Uncle told me how they did it."

"Why have they put the green bark on the top of the log?"

"I think it is to keep it from burning along the edge; don't you see?

And then there are wider pieces to protect it at the ends. See how they watch the fire and beat it out in one place and then in another."

"Why does it burn so fast?" asked Gesnip.

"Because they have daubed it with pitch. Can't you smell it?" said the boy, sniffing.

"Yes, I can smell it," replied his sister. "But come now and help me gather tules. Father is going to burn down our house and build a new one for winter, and I must make a tule rug for each one of you for beds in the new home. It will take a great many tule stems."

"It is cold to wade," said Payuchi, stepping into the water at the edge of the river.

"Yes," answered Gesnip, "I don't like to gather tules in winter."

The children pulled up the long rough stems one by one until they had a large pile.

"I think we have enough," said Payuchi, after they had been working about two hours.

"Yes, I think so too," said his sister. "My back aches, my hands are sore, and my feet are so cold." Payuchi brought some wild grapevine with which he tied the tule into two bundles, fastening the larger upon his sister's back; for with his people the women and girls were the burden bearers, and a grown Indian would not do any work that his wife could possibly do for him.

After they had traveled a little way on the homeward path, Gesnip stopped.

"Don't go so fast, Payuchi," she begged. "This bundle is so large it nearly tumbles me over."

"Just hurry a little until we get to the foot of the hill yonder where Nopal and the other big boys are playing, and you can rest while I watch the game," answered her brother. Gesnip struggled on, bending under the weight and size of her awkward burden until, with a sigh of relief, she seated herself on a stone to rest while Payuchi, throwing his bundle on the ground, stood up to watch the boys.

"See, Nopal is It," he said. Nopal, coming forward, stooped low and rolled a hoop along the ground, which the boys had pounded smooth and hard for the game.

As the hoop rolled another boy stepped forward and tried to throw a stick through it, but failed. Then all the players pointed their fingers at him and grunted in scorn. Again Nopal rolled the hoop, and this time the boy threw through the ring, and all the boys, and Payuchi too, gave whoops of delight.

The children watched the game until Gesnip said that they must go on, for their mother would be home and want them. When they returned, Macana was warming herself by the fire where the men were sitting.

"See our tule; is it not a great deal?" asked the children, showing their bundles.

"Yes, but not enough," replied their mother. "You will have to go out another day."

The women, who had been working all the morning gathering acorns, now squatted near the fire and began grinding up the nuts which had been already dried.

"Gesnip," called her mother, "bring me the grinding stones." The girl went to the jacal and brought two stones, one a heavy bowlder with a hollow in its top, which had been made partly by stone axes, but more by use; the other stone fitted into this hollow.

"Now bring me the basket of roasted gra.s.shoppers," said the mother.

Taking a handful of gra.s.shoppers, Macana put them into the hollow in the larger stone, and with the smaller stone rubbed them to a coa.r.s.e powder.

This powder she put into a small basket which Gesnip brought her.

"I am glad we caught the gra.s.shoppers. They taste better than acorn meal mush," said Payuchi.

"How many gra.s.shoppers there are in the fall," said Gesnip, "and so many rabbits, too."

"We had such a good time at the rabbit drive," said Payuchi.

"And such a big feast afterwards, nearly as good as last night," said Gesnip.

"Tell me about the rabbit drive," said Cleeta, squatting down beside the children in front of the fire.

"It was in the big wash up the river toward the mountains," began Payuchi. "You have seen the rabbits running to hide in a bunch of gra.s.s and cactus when you go with mother to the mountains for acorns, haven't you?"

Cleeta nodded. "Not this winter, though. We saw only two to-day," she said.

"That is because of the drive," said her brother. "It was in the afternoon, with the wind blowing from the ocean, and all the men who could shoot best with bow and arrow, or throw the spear well, stood on the other side of the wash."

"Father was there," said Cleeta.