Joe Stevens came out west to court fortune prospecting in the mountains. He has met with more than fair success and writes his wife that she might join him as soon as she could. Wishing to surprise him, she and their child appear before him unannounced. On the day of her arrival a party of Indians from a reservation nearby visit the village to procure supplies. Among them is a little Indian girl, who, being an unfavored child, is very roughly treated by her mother. The poor tot has never known a kind word or attention. Approaching the cabin of Stevens, the little Indian beholds Joe's child playing with a very pretty doll. The doll fascinates the Indian girl and Mrs. Stevens persuades her daughter to give it to her. This act of kindness, the first the poor little child has ever experienced, so overwhelms her with gratitude that she is at a loss to know how to express it. However, her little heart pulsates with a new energy, and she leaves her new found friends all aglow with thanks. Meanwhile, the Indians have been making a round of the stores and one of them is assassinated by a drunken rowdy. The Indians, vowing vengeance, return to the reservation with the lifeless brave. A council of war is held, during which the little one appears with the doll in her arms. One of the Indians seizes this effigy of a while baby and hurls it over the bank, and when the girl climbs down and regains it she finds it hopelessly broken. Heart-crushed, the little one buries it in true Indian fashion, and as she is prostrate before the tiny pyre she hears the noise of the war dame. Hastening to the scene she realizes the grave danger of her first and only friends, and runs off to warn them. She isn't any too soon for the infuriated Indians are starting out. Joe dashes through the village arousing the inhabitants, and although the redskins have devastated and burned outlaying properly, they meet with powerful resistance at the village proper and are driven off. Everyone is loud in their praise for the little Indian child and are anxious to know her whereabouts. Alas, they will never know, for the little one, wounded during the conflict, has just strength enough to reach the little grave where she falls making it a double one, and her pure soul parts with the little body sacrificed upon the altar of gratitude.