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Excerpt from Swift Fawn
While the younger women were moving about, the old grandmothers squatted back in dim corners, weaving baskets, sorting porcu pine quills for the next day's embroidery, and keeping the babies out of their mothers' way. Now and then the head of. Some bright-eyed boy or girl would pop through the door of the lodge to see what was going on inside, or to sniff the savory odor of the roasting meat.
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