It was this day, golden and sweet with little winds that wafted from the blossom-laden woods, that Maren Le Moyne, drawn by the dusky depths, passed, out the stockade gate, traversed slowly the length of the Indian camp, stopping here and there to hold out a hand to a frightened pappoose peeking from behind its mother's fringed leggings, to watch a moment at the cooking fires, to smile at a slim young boy brave in a checkered shirt, and entered the forest.
"The Maid of the Whispering Hills"
Vingie E. Roe
Him just man, squaw, pappoose.
"The Heart of Unaga"
Ridgwell Cullum
Him sit with little pappoose.
"The Heart of Unaga"
Ridgwell Cullum