Day after day went by, and the Blackfeet did not appear.  Ponoko, never having indulged in the pernicious fire-water, was rapidly recovering under my father's judicious care and the attention he received from Rose and the rest of the family.  We had not yet told her of the possibility that her father had escaped and might be restored to her.  I suspect that she would not have understood us had we done so, for she looked upon Uncle Donald as her father, though she called him "Uncle" as Hugh and I did.  Indeed, all the events of her life which had occurred before the fearful night of the massacre appeared to have faded from her memory.