Tito 



v.* *»*<tf • "-" 



The little hollow west of Chimney Butte was 

 freshly grassed. The dangerous-looking Span- 

 ish bayonets, that through the bygone winter 

 had waged war with all things, now sent out 

 their contribution to the peaceful triumph of the 

 spring, in flowers that have stirred even the 

 chilly scientists to name them Gloriosa ; and 

 the cactus, poisonous, most reptilian of herbs, 

 surprised the world with a splendid bloom as 

 little like itself as the pearl is like its mother 

 shell-fish. The sage and the greasewood lent 

 their gold, and the sand-anemone tinged the 

 Badland hills like bluish snow ; and in the air 

 and earth and hills on every hand was felt the 

 fecund promise of the spring. This was the 

 end of the winter famine, the beginning of 

 the summer feast, and this was the time by the 

 All-mother ordained when first the little Coyotes 

 should see the light of day. 



A mother does not have to learn to love her 

 helpless, squirming brood. They bring the love 

 with them — not much or little, not measur- 

 able, but perfect love. And in that dimly 

 lighted warm abode she fondled them and 

 licked them and cuddled them with heartful 



3iS 



