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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76997 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+WIGWAM WONDER TALES
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: “There will be no living with him,” said the crow]
+
+
+
+
+ WIGWAM
+ WONDER TALES
+
+ BY
+ WILLIAM THOMPSON
+
+ ILLUSTRATED BY
+ CARLE MICHEL BOOG
+
+ NEW YORK
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
+ 1919
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
+
+ Published September, 1919
+
+ [Illustration: Publisher’s colophon]
+
+
+
+
+DEDICATION
+
+
+This book is affectionately dedicated to H. T., who for ten years
+has been my constant companion. We have travelled together from the
+Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Ocean. Have climbed glaciers of Alaska
+and shivered in the fogs of Newfoundland. Have rocked in the crafts of
+the North Sea fishermen. Have looked from the Phœnician ruins of Eze
+to the island of Corsica. Have enjoyed the nature smiles of southern
+Europe from Italy to Setubal, the ancient Cetubriga of the Romans. Have
+strolled along the highways and byways of Germany, Holland, France,
+Belgium, Moresnet, Italy, and romped together in the cork-groves of
+Portugal and the olive-groves of Spain. We have shared the same room
+in spooky inns along the trails of Don Quixote in La Mancha, and have
+ridden fourth-class with a first-class ticket hundreds of kilometres
+... because dogs were not allowed in first-class compartments on
+European railways.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                      PAGE
+
+ THE GIANT BUTTERFLY AND THE MOUSE       1
+
+ WACTU, THE ANIMAL PAINTER              15
+
+ ALITOCI AND THE GIANT BIRDS            28
+
+ NIONA AND THE MOON MAN                 40
+
+ WHY DOGS DO NOT TALK                   56
+
+ MR. FISH AND YONI                      68
+
+ FIRE BOY AND WATER BOY                 92
+
+ OLD SPOT AND THE CUPIDS               107
+
+ THE UNDERWATER PEOPLE                 129
+
+ WATC’ AGIC KILLS THE TALKING-BIRDS    144
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+ “There will be no living with him,” said the crow    _Frontispiece_
+
+                                                                PAGE
+
+ Every one laughed. What a joke! This tiny
+ mouse offering to release the sun!                                5
+
+ “Come down,” said Ayas. “I wish to discuss a
+ business offer with you”                                          9
+
+ Over their heads they heard a little voice calling,
+ “They fit perfectly”                                             13
+
+ This he did, much to the amazement of the beaver                 17
+
+ Wactu waited patiently for the color-sprites to dance
+ on the snow and lakes                                            21
+
+ On and on the frightened old man was carried                     29
+
+ Down the big tree he lowered himself                             33
+
+ The birds walked off in another direction                        37
+
+ “Niona, you are so, so beautiful”                                41
+
+ Niona felt herself being drawn up and up                         47
+
+ “I’m coming!”                                                    53
+
+ So Nudi and his dog, Happy, would wander off to
+ the mountains                                                    57
+
+ One day, trailing a bear, Happy told all she knew of
+ Neti’s romance                                                   61
+
+ “Yes,” said Tiki, “she has told that which she should
+ not.”                                                            65
+
+ There he found a strange and very large fish splashing
+ and floundering                                                  73
+
+ “My! how fast we are going!”                                     83
+
+ “Mr. Fish! Mr. Fish!” called Yoni                                89
+
+ “We have brought a goose and caribou tongues, and
+ we will share them with you”                                     97
+
+ Looking up to her he waved his hand and smiled                  101
+
+ He sat without discomfort in the midst of the flames            105
+
+ “You’ve got a fine catch this morning”                          113
+
+ It was but the work of a few seconds and all was over           121
+
+ “How really clever Old Spot is”                                 125
+
+ They suddenly saw a man passing along in the dusk               131
+
+ “Do ha-s tei-ul tuk,” which means “Do not kill me”              137
+
+ He looked up and saw a giant frog standing on his left
+ foot                                                            141
+
+ Once there was a man who wandered all over the
+ earth                                                           145
+
+ “My good brother, what have you on your back?”                  149
+
+ And he began to sing in a harsh voice                           153
+
+
+
+
+WIGWAM WONDER TALES
+
+
+
+
+THE GIANT BUTTERFLY AND THE MOUSE
+
+
+When Ayas was a small child, hardly able to walk, he would try to catch
+the sunbeams that played with his fingers and toes. Onitu, an old woman
+who had noticed his efforts, smiled and said: “He will be a sun-catcher
+some day; in all truth, Ayas will be a sun-catcher.”
+
+Of course, the people did not know the meaning of her strange remark,
+and looked serious.
+
+Ayas grew to be a man, and travelled the long, lonely trails of
+the forest in search for game. One day, being very tired, as it was
+oppressively warm, he lay down to sleep. During his slumber something
+that passed scorched his leather coat. This made him very angry, for
+upon the coat he had worked long days with needle and thread, putting
+many colored beads in fantastic design. As he arose, his coat fell from
+his back, and the thread holding the beads parted, scattering them upon
+the ground.
+
+“I’ll find out my enemy!” declared Ayas, so loud that the animals of
+the forest became frightened and ran to their holes, or scampered away
+in many directions.
+
+Unstringing his bow, lashed many times around with caribou sinew, he
+made a snare across the road, and over the spot where he had been
+sleeping. Then he went home.
+
+The next day the sun did not rise, or the next, and the medicine-men
+were consulted; but they were as much mystified as the people, who met
+in their lodges, many of them too frightened to speak. “Had the Great
+Spirit deserted his people? Was this the end of all things?”
+
+Ayas’ sister, who suspected her brother had been up to some mischief,
+went to him and said: “What have you been doing that the sun does not
+give light?”
+
+He replied: “I set a snare the other day; I will go and see if I have
+caught anything.”
+
+So he went back to the wood where he had set his snares, and the nearer
+he approached the hotter it became. When he arrived at the opening of
+the trail he saw he had snared the sun. He tried to release it, but it
+would not keep still, jumping up and down so fast Ayas could not grasp
+the snares.
+
+“Keep still!” he cried, but his command was of no avail. So he called
+all the animals from near and far to help him; but it was so hot they
+dared not approach, fearing their fur would be scorched, and as winter
+was drawing near, they would not risk that which kept them warm.
+
+A wee ground-mouse was looking on from his tiny hole under a great
+ant-hill that had been deserted. He called to Ayas and said: “Go to the
+giant butterfly who makes wings over there in the dead pine. If he will
+agree to make for me a pair of wings and guarantee a good fit that I
+may fly back should the sun take me with him, I’ll release it.”
+
+Every one laughed. What a joke! This tiny mouse offering to release the
+sun when the great animals of the forest dare not attempt it! A lynx,
+just ready to spring at the silly little creature, was prevented from
+doing so by Ayas, who gave him a stroke across his snout. This is the
+reason the lynx has such a short nose.
+
+[Illustration: Every one laughed. What a joke! This tiny mouse offering
+to release the sun!]
+
+Ayas looked at the ant-hill. How large it was, and how small the
+beings that had made it. “Perhaps the mouse can do as it agrees,” he
+thought.
+
+It was so hot the grass began to scorch, and leaves became seared.
+Something must be done.
+
+“Go to the butterfly and tell him I wish to speak to him,” Ayas
+demanded of the mouse.
+
+“He will not come and scorch his wings. He has the finest pair in all
+the lands about here,” answered the mouse.
+
+Ayas thought the mouse was right; so he started off for the wing
+factory. When he got near the old tree he called, and slowly, from a
+great hole in the trunk peered the face of Mr. Butterfly.
+
+“Come down,” said Ayas. “I wish to discuss a business offer with you.”
+The great winged creature slowly drew himself out of the hole, and
+spreading his wings, glided to the earth. He was so enormous Ayas was
+but a tiny being compared to him.
+
+[Illustration: “Come down,” said Ayas. “I wish to discuss a business
+offer with you”]
+
+“The sun has become entangled in my snare,” said Ayas, “and a young and
+very tiny mouse promises that he will release it if you will furnish
+him with a pair of wings. The fit must be guaranteed as well as the
+quality, as he may be required to make a long journey, and must be
+assured they will stand the strain; and in addition, they must be made
+of material that will be able to withstand great heat.”
+
+“What will be my compensation?” asked Mr. Butterfly.
+
+“What do you expect?” asked Ayas.
+
+“That is not the way I bargain,” replied Mr. Butterfly. “What is it
+worth to you?”
+
+Ayas thought a moment. Knowing that if the sun was not released,
+soon all the hunting-grounds would be destroyed by fire, he decided to
+make a good offer, so he said: “I’ll give you five portions of clover
+honey, two hundred fresh wild roses, and build a long ladder to your
+hole, that you may not need to fly when you grow old.”
+
+This appealed to Mr. Butterfly, for his wing joints did not work as
+smoothly as when he was younger.
+
+“Throw in a measure of goose oil and it’s a bargain,” said he.
+
+“Very well,” said Ayas. “Have you any wings in stock that will fit?”
+
+“I cannot tell without seeing your friend; bring him here and upon your
+return I’ll have a few pairs ready for a try-on.”
+
+So Ayas went back and told the mouse he had fixed up the matter, so
+they returned together, the mouse in the pouch of Ayas’ coat. Many
+wings were tried on, and finally little Johnny Mouse selected a pair
+that seemed satisfactory, although not bigger than the wings of a
+sparrow.
+
+“Go up the tree and fly down,” said Mr. Butterfly, and up crawled
+the mouse until he had gone so far they could not see him. Over their
+heads they heard a little voice calling, “They fit perfectly. My! this
+is wonderful!” And down glided the wee mouse in little circles to the
+ground.
+
+[Illustration: Over their heads they heard a little voice calling,
+“They fit perfectly”]
+
+“Now to keep my promise,” said he, flying around Ayas’ head and
+settling on his right shoulder.
+
+Saying good-afternoon to Mr. Butterfly, who was to call for his
+supplies the following day, Ayas and the mouse returned to the
+struggling sun. Going to the strings of sinew, the mouse began to gnaw,
+and very soon, one after another of the strands holding the sun parted.
+With one great effort, it burst the remaining bonds and started again
+on its path of day, giving light to all the world.
+
+If it had not been for the mouse the sun would have remained a
+prisoner, and there would have been no day. If it had not been for the
+sun, bats would have always remained mice.
+
+
+
+
+WACTU, THE ANIMAL PAINTER
+
+
+As long as the birds could remember, Wactu had lived among them. This
+was a very long time ago, and before the rays of the sun had penetrated
+the deep mist that surrounded the earth. It was only now and then that
+the people living in the lowlands could see the golden shafts of light
+tipping the great mountain-tops as they stood like mighty gods, covered
+with garments of snow. The snows, melting slowly, formed lakes high up
+in the mountain valleys, and across the great glaciers and fields of
+ice all the colors of the painter’s palette passed like a pageant of
+beauty among the mountain peaks.
+
+For ever so long Wactu had stripped the white birches that he called
+the “white ghosts of the forest” of their bark and made baskets of it,
+for what reason the magpie and owl had been very much perplexed to know.
+
+One morning a large timber-wolf called to discuss a matter of
+importance with Wactu, who was the King of the Kingdom of Animals, and
+master of the woodlands.
+
+“I’m growing very tired of so much sameness of color among my
+subjects,” he said to the wolf. “It’s always black or white. Why don’t
+you go up the mountain and bathe in the lake and roll on the snows, and
+become beautiful of color? See!” pointing to the rays of light piercing
+the mist, “See! Is that not more fair than your gray costume?”
+
+But old wolf only grunted an indifferent acknowledgment, for he had
+little sentiment for anything but his appetite. His indifference caused
+Wactu to ejaculate: “You are the most acrimonious of all my people.
+Go bring me a young beaver, and mind you do not devour him before he
+serves my purpose.”
+
+Wactu had decided upon a plan by which there was to be a change of
+fashion among his subjects, and he began preparations then and there.
+
+Old wolf returned with a young whimpering beaver-cub, crying at the top
+of his voice, for Mr. Wolf had not been over-careful in handling the
+youth, who, being accustomed to the tender solicitude of fond parents,
+did not understand the rougher ways of one who at any moment was liable
+to devour him. Wactu instructed the wolf to hold Young Beaver tight as
+he wanted to pluck a few hairs from his back and tail. This he did,
+much to the amazement of the beaver, who, though crying lustily, was
+more frightened than hurt.
+
+[Illustration: This he did, much to the amazement of the beaver]
+
+“Take him back to his mother,” demanded Wactu, “and mind your appetite
+does not prompt you to rashness, for I may want you to bring him to me
+again.” So Mr. Wolf disappeared in the wood.
+
+Wactu always had his suspicions that Mr. Wolf feasted on Young Beaver,
+for when he needed more hair for his brushes, he always looked
+carefully for the places he had plucked, but could not find them; so he
+of course knew that Mr. Wolf had not brought him the same animal. As
+Mr. Wolf had served him well he never made any reference to the matter.
+
+For many days that followed Wactu made journeys to the mountains,
+and waited patiently for the color-sprites to dance on the snow
+and lakes; and as they appeared, he caught them and thrust them
+into his baskets. There were red, blue, green, orange, and yellow
+sprites--indeed, all the colors of the rainbow. Several times one end
+of the arch dipped into the waters of the lakes, and as Wactu knew the
+spirits of his departed friends formed the beautiful colors, he was
+careful not to capture them, so waited for the rainbow to pass before
+collecting material for his interesting undertaking.
+
+[Illustration: Wactu waited patiently for the color-sprites to dance on
+the snow and lakes]
+
+When Wactu returned to his lodge, the owls, eagles, and hawks would go
+far out on the limbs of the tall trees so that he could not hear them,
+and discuss the state of his mind, for they had “never seen him do
+such strange things before.” Once or twice they flew down, unbeknown
+to their master, and lifted the baskets, but, finding them very light,
+they were convinced that they contained nothing that would do them harm.
+
+Being King of the Kingdom of Animals and Birds, Wactu knew the
+language of all his people; so one morning, while he was tying up the
+beaver hairs and making brushes of different sizes--some with long
+handles and some with short--he called the skylark, the long-eared
+owl, the raven, the sparrow-hawk, the cuckoo, the chaffinch, the gray
+wag-tail, the spotted flycatcher, the crested titmouse, the woodpecker,
+the robin, the nightingale, the blackbird, the crow, and all the other
+feathered people of his empire, and said:
+
+“My good people, it will be many thousands of years before the mists
+and clouds surrounding this great world are dispersed by the goddess of
+the sun. It is my purpose to hasten the work of Nature, by painting all
+of my people in the colors of the rainbow. Could you bathe in the rays
+of the sun, I would be saved all my trouble. You would then be like a
+queen on her throne, arrayed in all the glories of color. Who will be
+the first to change his or her plain garment for one of beauty? I have
+collected all the colors to complete Nature’s works.”
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+“I will,” called Mr. Peacock, as Wactu reached for his colors, and
+placed them beside him in rows.
+
+“Step right up and I will begin,” said Wactu in a pleased tone. So the
+peacock, with his long flowing tail trailing behind him, his head bowed
+in an embarrassed, coy way, approached Wactu, who, after placing him in
+a position most convenient, began to apply the mystical tints that were
+to make Mr. Peacock the most vain and conceited of all featherdom.
+
+Beginning at the head, he painted the neck, wings, and body. When the
+tail was to be renovated, he had to stand up and go around, as it was
+so long. Once or twice he stepped on it. The peacock winced though it
+did not hurt him at all.
+
+“There will be no living with him,” said the crow as he noticed the
+peacock straighten up and throw his head back in a haughty manner.
+
+“Right you are,” said the raven.
+
+“Such arrogance,” said the wren, loud enough for Mr. Peacock to hear.
+
+Wactu, having completed his toilet, asked him to step off a bit so
+that he could see if the colors had run. This he did ’midst expressions
+of admiration from some, and, Wactu was sorry to know, suppressed jeers
+of others.
+
+“Me next,” said Miss Robin Redbreast as she surveyed the plain, soiled
+whiteness of her clothing.
+
+“Get on my knee,” said Wactu in a gentle voice, for she was very small
+and timid. “What colors for you, Miss Robin?”
+
+“Red on my breast, and for the others, those that will not soil easily.”
+
+In the meantime, Mr. Peacock, who had always heretofore mingled with
+his people on an equal social footing, had strutted away, and was
+standing alone in self-satisfied admiration, his beautiful tail spread
+like a giant fan. The humming-bird afterward told his mate he heard him
+say, “I am more beautiful than the sun,” and Mrs. Humming-Bird replied,
+“I really believe he thinks it is so.”
+
+One by one the birds were bedecked with new garments. The old fogies
+like the raven, crow, and blackbirds said, “None of it for us,” and
+went away quite satisfied with their old clothes.
+
+There were many animals who had come out of mere idle curiosity,
+standing about wondering what would happen to them if old Wactu did not
+use up all of his colors. Mr. Porcupine felt quite confident that the
+royal decorator would not insist upon any reform in _his_ apparel, no
+matter what changes he made in the others.
+
+
+
+
+ALITOCI AND THE GIANT BIRDS
+
+
+Alitoci, a beaver chief, who had become too old to work, spent most of
+his time when the weather was not too cold along the rivers, fishing.
+He had three dogs that helped him in winter, but in summer they did no
+work, though they must eat; so Alitoci fished for them.
+
+One day he was sitting by a dark water-hole full of fish, saying to
+himself: “Here shall I get plenty of food for my faithful dogs.”
+
+So he fished until he had caught all he could carry. As he was not
+strong, he had but few. He climbed up the bank to return home.
+
+It was growing dark, and as his head was bowed from age, he could
+not see a great bird hovering over him. This bird was enormous in
+size, and its wings spread like the limbs of a large tree. Suddenly it
+swooped upon him, and took him up toward the clouds that were piled in
+the heavens like great banks of snow. On and on the frightened old man
+was carried. Still remembering his faithful dogs, he held on to his
+strings of fish until his hands were so tired he had to let them fall
+to the earth, many thousands of feet below.
+
+[Illustration: On and on the frightened old man was carried]
+
+His coat was old and he could hear the sinew giving under his weight,
+for though aged, he was still a heavy man, and there was a great strain
+on the coat.
+
+The old man could see only the wings of the giant bird as they went up
+and down, slowly, in flight.
+
+“Where are you taking me?” said he in great terror; but the bird did
+not reply.
+
+After a long journey over rivers and mountains, he was dropped into a
+large nest that rested on the limbs of a dead tree. The bird said to
+his young ones, who seemed very much frightened: “Take good care of
+the old man; I will go for food.” So the bird departed to seek young
+animals like the rabbit, ermine, and small fox, as his children were
+too young to eat the larger game.
+
+When it was growing light, for the morning dawned while the father bird
+was away, the mother returned. She was not quite so large and strong
+as her husband, but she also was big enough to carry a man for miles
+through the air.
+
+“How does it happen that you smell of a man?” she asked her children.
+
+“We should smell of a man when father brought one here for us,” the
+young ones said in chorus, without meaning to deceive their mother.
+
+They were so large, although very young birds, that they could
+easily hide the man under their wings, and their mother did not know he
+was there, which was well for the old man, for she would have eaten him
+had she known the truth.
+
+The old man trembled so that it shook the birds, and the mother,
+thinking them ill, said: “Why do you shake so; are you not well?”
+
+“Oh, yes,” they replied, “we are very well indeed.”
+
+She seemed satisfied.
+
+The old man thought of his poor dogs who were waiting for food, and of
+the fish he had lost after working so hard to catch them. The fear for
+his own safety worried him, too, but greatest of all his troubles was
+the weight of the birds sitting on him, and the added weight of the
+mother caused him still more distress. When the sun came up he was sure
+he would be seen.
+
+As the sun rose higher and higher, one by one the birds fell asleep.
+“Now is my chance,” thought the old man, lame and out of breath. So out
+of the nest he crawled and down the big tree he lowered himself. He
+waited at times to hear if there was any chattering in the nest, but
+heard none, so he went on and reached the ground in safety.
+
+[Illustration: Down the big tree he lowered himself]
+
+“Now,” thought the old man, “if I should try to return home they might
+wake up and find me gone and follow me, and take me back to the nest.”
+
+He began to collect knots and dry wood which he piled at the foot
+of the tree. After heaping them as high as he could reach, he gathered
+dry blades of grass which he put under the pile of wood. Then striking
+together two pieces of flint which he took from his pocket, he lighted
+the grass and this lighted the fagots. The flames ran higher and higher
+until they set fire to the nest. The wings of the birds were burned,
+and they fell to the ground. They tried to fly, but could not. The old
+man walked as fast as he could, and hid behind a tree. The birds walked
+off in another direction. They did not suffer as only their feathers
+were burned.
+
+[Illustration: The birds walked off in another direction]
+
+And this is the way it came about that great birds like the ostrich,
+the emu, and the auk, though having feathers and wings, cannot fly.
+
+Thus were the birds punished for trying to prevent the old man from
+returning and feeding his hungry dogs, who had always served their
+master so faithfully.
+
+
+
+
+NIONA AND THE MOON MAN
+
+
+There once lived on the shores of the beautiful Lake Athabasca an
+Indian chief whose name was Wyani, and his two daughters, Wiona and
+Niona.
+
+Wiona helped her father cure the moose and caribou skins, and put the
+fish to dry on racks in the sun, for food for the dogs during the
+winter.
+
+Niona, the younger daughter, was very beautiful. She would sit by the
+lake where she could see her reflection, and arrange her hair, putting
+in her tresses large eagle feathers and wild flowers. She would make to
+adorn her feet beautiful moccasins of white deer-skin decorated with
+beads and many colored silks, and would say to herself: “Niona, you are
+so, so beautiful.”
+
+[Illustration: “Niona, you are so, so beautiful”]
+
+Then she would glance at her pretty feet, and her slippers beaded in
+wild roses and big leaves, and sigh, saying to herself: “How fortunate
+to be so beautiful.”
+
+When her father would call to her to help him, she would say, “Oh,
+father! Do it yourself!” or call to Wiona to help her father. Sometimes
+she would say: “I must make myself beautiful like the sun.”
+
+A young Cree brave would come to visit her. He was a great hunter and
+feared no man. One day while he was sitting near her when she was
+adorning herself, she leaned too far over the water to admire her
+reflection, and fell into the lake. He pulled her out, saying: “If you
+were not so vain this would not have happened.”
+
+“Do not scold me,” Niona said, as she caught her breath and shook the
+water from her dress.
+
+“You are very beautiful, but you are also very selfish,” said the young
+man.
+
+“All who are very beautiful are selfish,” Niona replied.
+
+“That is not so,” said the Indian.
+
+“Old Father Bear and Mother Lynx and Brother Fox tell me I am
+beautiful; even the birds, more beautiful than I am, say I am
+beautiful. Are they not proud of their plumage? Why should I not be!”
+exclaimed the maiden.
+
+“You are very beautiful,” the young Indian repeated, “but you are not
+kind to your father; and your sister is very tired. Why do you not
+consider them? They are both very good to you.”
+
+“I have no time. I must make myself like the sun; the beauty of
+everything comes from the sun, and I must be like her. She paints the
+clouds and rainbow and flowers and water--everything. I am the child
+of the sun and gather the beautiful things of color that I may adorn
+myself. You also think me beautiful. That is pleasing to me. I know
+myself that I am beautiful.”
+
+“Yes, but beauty is not everything,” he replied.
+
+“Do not scold me. You would not like me if I were like the Old Man in
+the Moon.”
+
+“I should like you better if you were helpful, and considerate of those
+who love and serve you; and mind, you better not let the Moon Man hear
+you speak slightingly of him or he may ‘make medicine.’”[1]
+
+  [1] The Shaman of the Indian and Eskimo of Greenland, North America
+      and Siberia are supposed to have supernatural power. The exercise
+      of this power is called “making medicine.”
+
+“Shoot an arrow at the Moon Man,” said Niona. “Who’s afraid of him!”
+
+Suddenly it became very dark, and the moon seemed to draw nearer to the
+earth.
+
+“Save me! Save me!” cried Niona, but her companion had disappeared.
+
+Niona thought, “How silly it was to be afraid of the old dead moon,”
+and cried out in defiance:
+
+    “Boil the moon; save your passion;
+      Boil your lazy head,
+    Hiding thus in idle fashion
+      In your starry bed.”
+
+The Old Man in the Moon seemed to frown and to come closer and closer.
+Niona felt herself being drawn up and up; faster and faster she seemed
+to fly until the light of the camp-fires could no longer be seen. The
+stars grew larger and brighter and Niona began to feel very cold. Up
+and up she went until she could see the earth but dimly, and only as a
+round ball. Suddenly she stopped, and a voice said: “This is the end of
+your journey. You must live here. You thought only of yourself, of your
+beauty. Your time you spent in idleness. You did no good for any one.
+This is your punishment.”
+
+[Illustration: Niona felt herself being drawn up and up]
+
+Niona looked around. There were no flowers, or lakes, no trees, no
+people. There were only mountains of dead rocks, craters of extinct
+volcanoes, and deep-sea beds, but no water.
+
+“What a terrible place,” thought Niona, without speaking.
+
+“Yes,” said the Old Man of the Moon, “it is so. We once had all, but
+age came upon us, as it has now come to you.”
+
+“To me?” cried Niona.
+
+“Yes, to you,” he replied. “Look into the Grotto of Shadows yonder.”
+
+Niona walked to a deep cave and looked down. There she saw reflected
+the face of an old woman, older than any she had ever seen on earth.
+
+“Horrors!” she cried, “How can I escape this awful fate?”
+
+“There is but one way,” said the Moon Man. “Come with me.”
+
+They ascended a high mountain and looked afar to the “City of Good
+Works.” One end of a rainbow rested in a great square of the city, and
+people, bejewelled and wearing beautiful costumes, were dancing around
+it. There was music, such as Niona had never heard in the woods, and
+great gardens with flowers bursting into bloom, and birds of wondrous
+plumage, too numerous to imagine.
+
+“This,” said the Moon Man, “is the abode of contentment.”
+
+“Oh! How can I get there?” cried Niona.
+
+“There is but one way,” he answered as she looked in wonderment. “You
+must go back to earth and there seek out those who need help and
+comfort; be kind to the aged, and share your blessings with those who
+most need them. If you promise to do this, you may return.”
+
+“I promise, I promise!” cried Niona, “When may I go?”
+
+“At once,” answered the Moon Man, taking a great bow and an arrow that
+was so long its head rested on a mountain miles away. On the other
+end was a little compartment, lighted with many colored lights, and
+containing chairs and a table which was set with the most dainty fruits
+and cakes.
+
+“Get in, hold tight, and keep your promise.” As he spoke he touched her
+lightly on the shoulder, and she began at once to regain her youth and
+beauty.
+
+She stepped into the fairy car.
+
+“Remember your promise,” said the Moon Man sternly. “Are you ready?”
+
+“Yes,” replied Niona.
+
+Before she could say more, she found herself flying toward earth;
+nearer and nearer she flew. Soon a light appeared, then another and
+another. Soon she could see the great lake, then her old father who was
+sitting outside his lodge. He was crying, “Niona, Niona, come back!”
+
+“I’m coming!” she called, as the great arrow plunged into the earth,
+stopping just in time so Niona could step out and be welcomed by her
+father.
+
+[Illustration: “I’m coming!”]
+
+“I’ve come to help you gather wood, and to fish, and to sew
+caribou-skins, and make snares, and cure the moose-skins, and to hunt,
+and to draw water.”
+
+He looked up and smiled, he had grown very old.
+
+“Where are your fine clothes?” he asked.
+
+Niona looked down at her feet, and behold! she was in rags!
+
+“I shall not need them now, good father. I have come to serve you.”
+
+For many moons she had been faithful to her promise made to the Man
+in the Moon, when, one day, there came from the forest, a handsome
+brave, with a deer slung over his shoulder--not the Indian she had
+admired before her strange journey, but one nobler and taller. Walking
+toward the old man he said: “You have a beautiful daughter. May I wed
+her when the moon is full?”
+
+“She is a good daughter, and may do as she thinks best,” replied the
+chief.
+
+Niona grew to love the young Indian, and they were married and devoted
+their lives to her father as long as he lived. They lived to be very
+old, beloved by their tribe for their good works. When they died they
+were mourned by all who knew them. It is said they are now living in
+the beautiful City of the Rainbow.
+
+
+
+
+WHY DOGS DO NOT TALK
+
+
+At the foot of a mountain, with his daughter Neti and his dog, lived
+Nudi, an Indian whose wife had left him. He was fond of both, but of
+the two he loved his dog more dearly as she gave to him affection and
+obedience.
+
+At the time the incidents of this story happened all dogs could talk.
+Then language was very primitive, but as the dog has for nearly all
+time been a friend of man and his companion, each learned the language
+of the other, as does man when associating with a people speaking
+another language.
+
+The dog, being also the most sociable of all animals, learned that
+man could hunt with more skill when in quest of food, and before he
+became his companion, would follow on his trail and devour the meat
+discarded by him. When the dog found man a kindly being, he would join
+in the hunt, each finding the other helpful. Man found the dog had
+more highly developed the instinct for location, and that his sense of
+smell and his hearing were more acute, combining also the pleasure he
+enjoyed in associating with man rather than with his own kind. So man
+and dog became fast and enduring friends, and as some one has said of
+the latter, “the most intimate and companionable comrade for man of all
+the kingdom of animals.”
+
+So Nudi and his dog, Happy, would wander off to the mountains in
+search of game, and fish the waters for trout so plentiful in the dark,
+winding streams that came down with such a rush from the upper reaches
+of the mighty mountain that Nudi called “The Giant.”
+
+[Illustration: So Nudi and his dog, Happy, would wander off to the
+mountains]
+
+Sometimes they would have much to say, sometimes little. Happy would
+always consider the moods of Nudi--if he was not disposed to talk, she
+would run along beside him if the path was wide, and if not, follow at
+his heels in silence.
+
+There was something Happy had for a long time wanted to tell Nudi,
+about his daughter, but she would always hesitate, for she felt that
+perhaps it would not be right as it was natural for all creatures to
+love some one. Neti was very beautiful; she had many young braves who
+admired her, and she was very fond of their wooing, as she was also
+fond of the pretty trinkets they would bestow upon her. But the youth
+Neti liked the most, her father did not favor, so, unknown to him,
+she would go for long walks with her lover, and Happy knew, as she
+had followed them, that he had kissed her and said to her words of
+affection which Neti liked, even though she blushed and had taken her
+hand from his.
+
+One day, trailing a bear, Happy told all she knew of Neti’s romance.
+This vexed the father, so he threatened not to allow Neti to go
+more than twenty paces from the lodge, and to take from her all the
+baubles she had received from her admirers, this being the most severe
+punishment he could inflict. He also went to Tiki, the Shaman of the
+tribe, and asked him to make medicine and bring upon the lover some
+evil.
+
+[Illustration: One day, trailing a bear, Happy told all she knew of
+Neti’s romance]
+
+“No,” said the Shaman, “It is not upon the young brave, but upon your
+dog that I shall bring punishment.”
+
+“No, no!” said Nudi, “My dog is my friend. You shall not bring upon her
+any misfortune!”
+
+“Yes,” said Tiki, “she has told that which she should not. We cannot
+ourselves judge of another’s affection. We must choose according to the
+dictates of our own hearts.”
+
+[Illustration: “Yes,” said Tiki, “she has told that which she should
+not.”]
+
+So the Medicine Man used his powers so that dogs could never talk
+again; but left them the capacity to understand the language of all
+mankind. Though he took from all dogs the power of speech, he left to
+them fidelity, patience, and affection, and made them so nearly human
+that many who have loved them mourn their loss almost as much as one
+of their own kind. For has not the dog much of human intelligence with
+none of man’s conceit, hypocrisy or ingratitude? Does he not cling to
+his master no matter how humble may be his lot or how spare may be his
+meal? He will even forgive those who abuse and neglect him. No matter
+what may be the adversity that befalls those around him, he is still
+their loyal, clinging friend.
+
+What an object-lesson is this patient, trusting creature that
+shares man’s companionship, a companionship that if broken by the loss
+of the master, has sometimes ended in the death of man’s best and
+truest friend.
+
+
+
+
+MR. FISH AND YONI
+
+
+Yoni, an old Indian, had lost his wife by death, so, to the custom of
+his people, he covered her body with birch-bark, and wrapped it in a
+large moose-skin. Then, with the help of his friends, he put the body
+on a platform high up in the boughs of a tall, young spruce-tree.
+
+He then cut his hair very short, as a sign of mourning, and began to
+think how alone he would be during the long winter days.
+
+The frost had come and touched the trees and bush, and the beautiful
+colors that the artist of Nature was painting upon them, just a little
+while before Nature destroyed the picture, began to appear in places
+here and there, all over the land. The fine birds that sang to Yoni,
+and the plain little wrens he loved best were leaving, one by one,
+to wing their ways to the Southland where the sun is always warm and
+smiling, and Jack Frost and his bearded old relation Father Winter are
+unknown.
+
+Yoni had been very happy during the many years of his life. He was a
+good hunter, so of deer meat and fish he always had a plentiful supply.
+But his age, even with all the pleasant memories of the years gone by,
+meant to him in his solitude only sorrow and loneliness. He would have
+been glad if his wife, many years younger than he, could have lived to
+help him in his old age, but this was not to be.
+
+He would sit outside his lodge, and watch the beavers working on their
+dam just across the river, and recall how he had told his wife, Noimi,
+who was very pretty in his eyes, that there was no one to compare with
+her in all the graces and virtues, that she must not go for wood when
+the nights were cold; and if she did, he would call her back and insist
+that she go into the tipi and sit by the fire, and if she wished, she
+could sew on the skins that would keep them warm during the winter.
+
+He would waken at night, and out of the silence would come, from far
+across the lonely hills, the barking of the great timber-wolves,
+sounding like big dogs. Sometimes a stealthy bear would come with
+its cubs and tear down his fish-racks, and carry off the fish he had
+dressed and was drying for the winter. In the morning he would go out
+to see what damage they had done. He would never get angry, saying in
+a low voice: “Let them eat. It’s very bad to be hungry.” Then he would
+smile at their destruction, and with thin, trembling hands, try to
+straighten the poles.
+
+Twice a day he would pull up his nets that were made of willow fibre.
+Sometimes there were many fish, and sometimes only a few--but he never
+complained, for there were always enough for his needs now that he
+was all alone--having not even a dog. The preceding fall he had had
+two, but one had wandered away and he had given the other to Moni,
+his friend, who lived just around the bend of the river, and who was
+busy hauling wood for his winter fires, so did not come to visit him
+so often as in summer. Moni was growing old also, and his children had
+left him, all but a daughter, and she was blind, and not much help.
+
+One morning before it was very light, old Yoni heard a terrific
+splashing in the water above the place he tied his canoe. He had heard
+the connie or pike making a great rumpus when trying to catch a frog,
+but the splashing increased, so Yoni started for the shore as fast as
+his poor old legs could go. There he found a strange and very large
+fish splashing and floundering, and the more he floundered the more he
+became entangled in Yoni’s net, and the only one he had.
+
+[Illustration: There he found a strange and very large fish splashing
+and floundering]
+
+When the fish saw Yoni he called: “Come quickly and release me. I’m
+afraid I shall die. Come! I feel so strange.”
+
+Yoni made no effort to untangle the monster, who was just twenty-five
+feet long to an inch.
+
+“Oh!” thought Yoni, “You are a fine catch; you’ll be food for me all
+winter and much to spare; this I can barter with Moni for my winter’s
+wood.” And Yoni was pleased and smiled, and this he did not do very
+often.
+
+The more the creature struggled, the more and the tighter the net held
+him.
+
+“Hurry!” called the fish, not knowing what Yoni had been thinking
+about. Then he became perfectly still, and looking up at Yoni in a very
+appealing way said: “You are an old man. Get me out of this tangle and
+I will reward you.”
+
+“How?” said Yoni, becoming very much interested to have an affair with
+a fish that could talk.
+
+“There are many places and people,” said the fish, “along these great
+river ways that you have never seen.”
+
+“Yes,” said Yoni, becoming more interested. “The Yellow Knife, the Dog
+Rib, the Cree and many tribes far away to the North.”
+
+“I know their language,” said the fish. “Release me and I will take you
+where you will be among friends, and to those who will honor your old
+age. As you know, the rivers are long with many rapids that would upset
+your old canoe, and crush it on the rocks. Many of the portages are
+high hills, and many too rough and stony for your feet.”
+
+“This is all very well in words,” said Yoni, “but you may be like
+many of the fur-traders who do not always speak words that are to be
+depended upon.”
+
+Although the net was very tight about the neck of the fish, he managed
+to smile.
+
+“Ah” said he, “fish who talk never are known to speak untruths. Release
+me, and I will prove to you my gratitude by taking you anywhere you
+wish to go.”
+
+So Yoni, convinced that he was talking to a truthful fish, waded
+slowly arm deep in the water, and cut the tangled strands holding his
+new-found friend.
+
+“Just a moment,” said the fish after the last strand binding his gills
+had been severed, and he straightened out to see if his tail and fins
+were in working order, “I’ll swim out a little way to see if everything
+is right for our journey.” So far from shore and nearly to the middle
+of the stream the fish swam.
+
+“He’ll never come back,” thought Yoni, “and my net is in shreds.”
+
+Far out, and out of sight the monster had gone. At first Yoni thought
+he would never believe the promise of a talking-fish again, but knowing
+he had saved the creature’s life, he thought he might keep faith with
+one who had so truly befriended him. Just as Yoni was really losing
+faith, the fish rose to the surface far out in midstream.
+
+“I’m coming,” he called. “There are a few scales missing, but otherwise
+I’m all right for a long swim.”
+
+Yoni was glad his confidence was justified, although he did begin to
+think the story was fishy, like others where fish were concerned.
+
+“Wade out to the rock,” called the fish. “I’ll swim alongside; you get
+on my back and then we’ll be off for anywhere.”
+
+So Yoni with some difficulty waded to the rock, and climbed upon it
+just as the fish rose alongside. Yoni got aboard, straddling the huge
+back as if he were riding a horse just as he had once done before he
+grew so old.
+
+“Where shall we go, and what is your name?” asked the fish.
+
+“Yoni,” replied the old Indian, “What is yours?”
+
+“Piscatori,” answered the huge creature.
+
+“What a strange name,” said Yoni, “I am afraid I cannot remember it. My
+memory is not so good as it was years ago.”
+
+“That’s not important,” replied the fish. “Just call me Mr. Fish. I’ll
+understand.”
+
+Yoni thought that was best, so he asked the fish to turn around and go
+down the river to a place where he had set his snares and traps the
+year before. So Mr. Fish turned around and began to swim so fast it
+took Yoni’s breath almost away.
+
+“Not so fast, Mr. Fish,” called Yoni. “I’m afraid I’ll slip off.”
+
+“Oh, no!” said Mr. Fish. “Hold onto my front fin. Look out you don’t
+prick your fingers, the points are sharp. If you get cold, lift up the
+fin, step down, and you’ll find a cosy room just large enough to hold
+you comfortably.”
+
+So Yoni, being just a little chilly, with some difficulty raised the
+fin, and to his great joy and surprise he found such a cosy little
+place like a little room, with the floor and sides covered with the
+most beautifully colored scales--just as if they had stolen the tints
+from an Arctic rainbow or from the inside of a beautiful shell. And it
+was so warm, and Mr. Fish said, “Quite waterproof.”
+
+Yoni had not been so really contented for many years. He sat upon a
+strange little seat, so soft and warm, and looking around he found to
+his great astonishment that each scale formed a little window through
+which he could look out. Mr. Fish was passing through the deepest part
+of the river, and Yoni could see so many strange water things, fish of
+many colors and shapes, turtles, eels, frogs, rocks with very beautiful
+clinging vines in which fish of many kinds were hiding. Yoni was in a
+maze of wonderment that was broken by the movement of Mr. Fish, who
+was pointing for the bank. Yoni looked out and recognized the place as
+the one at which he had camped many years before, and just across the
+river where the old elm was still standing, was the spot where he had
+first met Noimi, who afterward became his wife. This made him sad, but
+he felt better when he realized he had found a new friend and a very
+agreeable companion. Though he had not felt bold enough to ask, he
+thought Mr. Fish was much older than he himself was.
+
+The fish swam to a great tree that had fallen into the water, due to
+the underwash of a swiftly flowing river and the grinding ice that cuts
+the banks in the spring.
+
+“Get off here,” said Mr. Fish; and Yoni raised the fin and stepped out
+on the tree, and then climbed the steep bank. Mr. Fish, seeing how
+infirm the old man was, moved a little, then backing up, raised his
+strong tail and gave Yoni a gentle push.
+
+“That is a great help,” said Yoni. Mr. Fish made no reply. He was
+thinking how unfortunate it was to be old, and of the “Tree of Youth”
+that grew where the waters of the Slave River flowed into the great
+lake of the same name.
+
+Mr. Fish waited patiently for the old man to return from his
+wanderings, and when he did, his eyes were red from weeping.
+
+“Cheer up,” said Mr. Fish, “we are going on a long journey. To go by
+canoe would take five or six days. If the water is not low, I can do it
+before sundown.”
+
+“Good for you,” said Yoni, having great confidence in Mr. Fish as a
+means of transport.
+
+Mr. Fish smiled. “I’ll give the old fellow the greatest surprise of his
+life,” said he to himself as he swished his tail to the right and to
+the left with the power of a great propeller.
+
+“My! how fast we are going,” said Yoni aloud; and he told Mr. Fish so,
+but he was too busy dodging rocks and sunken timber to have answered
+even had he heard Yoni.
+
+[Illustration: “My! how fast we are going!”]
+
+On Mr. Fish swam, cutting the corners of the river, winding his
+way between sunken ledges, leaping great rapids in which many a
+trapper’s scow had been crushed, as the little crosses on the graves
+on the banks can testify--struggling over shallow water, getting fast
+on sand-bars covered with wreckage from the great forests, held by
+boulders in narrow ways and pushing through with his muscular tail and
+wiggles--then down into deep water where things looked black and spooky
+to Yoni. For hours, fast and slow, the great physical being worked like
+a mighty engine.
+
+“What will become of me?” thought Yoni, “if anything happens to Mr.
+Fish?”
+
+As the sun was falling and the shadows were dying in the water, the
+craft of flesh pulled to the bank, and Yoni, a bit cramped from being
+so long in one position, got on the back of Mr. Fish and looked around
+to survey his surroundings.
+
+“We’ll remain here to-night,” said the fish, as he wiped the
+perspiration from his kind face.
+
+“You must be very tired,” observed Yoni.
+
+“Oh, no!” answered Mr. Fish. “It’s a bit strenuous when one has a cargo
+aboard, to get over dry land when one is accustomed to a water route.
+Going back you’d better take your time--that is if I don’t go back with
+you.”
+
+Yoni looked worried.
+
+“Why have you brought me so far from home?” he asked.
+
+“Don’t ask silly questions,” replied Mr. Fish. “On the bank yonder
+you’ll find some leaves and fagots. I’d help you if I could, but it
+makes me very short of wind to be out of water very long, so you will
+have to excuse me. Collect an armful, build a fire under the tree with
+the leaves all aflame with the ‘Fire of Youth’--that one” pointing with
+his fin. “There are berries enough on the hill for your supper. I’ll
+sleep in the black hole over there. It’s near the shore.”
+
+Yoni went about gathering leaves and small sticks which he placed near
+the tree, as there were many spots showing little piles of ashes where
+fires had been built before. While he was standing under the strange
+tree, a leaf would now and again fall--it seemed to him, all aflame.
+One touched his forehead and fell to the ground. He stooped to pick it
+up, but just as his fingers touched it, it disappeared.
+
+“What can be the meaning of this?” said Yoni to himself, and then he
+remembered Mr. Fish having said something about the “Fire of Youth.” A
+strange desire to sleep came over him, and all night he slept, dreaming
+strange dreams of fairies and places and people.
+
+The sunshine chased away a gray dawn and shone straight in Yoni’s
+face. He turned to get away from the glare, and in turning he felt
+so strange that he partly awakened. Becoming wide-awake, he gripped
+the grass and leaves with a vigor long forgotten. He looked at his
+hands. They again had the appearance of youth. His limbs were hard and
+muscular. Looking down, he discovered he was wearing a beautifully
+embroidered suit of moose-skin made for him by Noimi many years before.
+Looking up, he saw that the tree under which he had fallen asleep was
+now bare of all foliage, and not a leaf was to be seen on the ground.
+Everything seemed strange to him.
+
+“Mr. Fish! Mr. Fish!” called Yoni in a voice so strong it almost
+frightened him. “Where are you, Mr. Fish?”
+
+[Illustration: “Mr. Fish! Mr. Fish!” called Yoni]
+
+Mr. Fish was so tired on account of his long journey, that Yoni had to
+call many times. At last the vibrations of Yoni’s voice touched the
+ear of the fish, and he awoke, moved his tail, blew the water, and
+swam slowly to the bank. Of course, he knew what had happened when he
+saw the young man on the shore. He smiled so hard that three scales
+loosened by the struggle of the day before fell off, and went sailing
+and sinking down-stream.
+
+“Good morning! ... and good-by! Long life and always happy days to
+you. Seek Noimi in the lodge just over the hill. I’m off for the sea.”
+
+Yoni called frantically, but Mr. Fish had gone so fast and far, he
+could not hear. He would not have come back if he had, having given to
+the old man “Youth,” some say, the most beautiful and precious of all
+things.
+
+
+
+
+FIRE BOY AND WATER BOY
+
+
+As long as the oldest Indians could remember, the Fire and Water Boys
+had lived along the shores of the great lake called Athabasca. They
+never seemed to grow any older; sometimes they were very good and
+very helpful--sometimes, very annoying and often destructive. When
+the Indians grew tired of their pranks and tried to punish them, many
+strange things would happen.
+
+Far off the shore of Chipewyan lies an island, beautifully wooded and
+shaped very like a lady’s hat. On this island, alone, for nearly fifty
+years had lived Ani, who seldom spoke to any one, nor did she ever go
+to the mainland to enter into the festivities of the other Indians
+living in the vicinity of the settlement comprising two old Hudson’s
+Bay forts, a store of the company that traded with the Indians, a log
+church and a few straggling huts that fringed the woodlands on one side
+and the lake on the other. In winter the Indians trapped and hunted
+for the many valuable fur animals that roamed the desolate parts of
+this great northern wilderness, and in the spring and summer fished for
+their winter supply for their dogs that helped them drag the game from
+the woods, often many miles from the settlement.
+
+The women made white and colored moccasins of the most beautiful
+designs, adorned with porcupine quills dyed in many colors, some of the
+strands being almost as fine as a hair. These were braided and twisted
+with silk cords also of many colors, making a charming adornment
+for the feet, even of a queen. Because the Indian women were not
+industrious, there were but few made, and these were all bought by the
+trappers, so people of the Southland never saw them.
+
+Far beyond the island on which Ani had made her home so long, was
+another smaller one where Ani’s lover, a very handsome Beaver Indian,
+had lived more than forty years before. He had gone on a long trail for
+moose and caribou and had never returned; and every morning at dawn,
+and in the evening at sunset Ani would take a wild flower that her
+lover had given her, and which she had kept in a squirrel-skin bag, and
+go to the edge of the lake when the sun made a path of gold away across
+to the far shore, and call in her feeble voice to the Great Spirit to
+send back her brown-eyed boy of so many dead years of long ago. But he
+never came, and her heart grew more sad as the years passed. There were
+so many reasons why she wanted him--her tipi needed repairing, it was
+hard for her to cut wood, the path to the lake was stony and sometimes
+she would bruise her feet and groan; but there was no one to hear or to
+help her. She would not leave the island, fearing if she did her lover
+would return and would not be able to find her.
+
+One morning she heard the paddle of a canoe, and thinking perhaps he
+had come, she threw down her pan in which she was frying a portion of
+rabbit that she had snared two days before, and slowly crawled to the
+opening of her tipi and looked out; but it was not he--only two boys
+who were pointing their canoe directly to the path leading to her camp.
+
+“Hello, Granny Ani!” called the boy plying the bow paddle, but Ani was
+so disappointed she made only a grunt as a reply.
+
+“Hello!” they called again.
+
+Ani made no answer, standing with a worried look.
+
+“Get some fagots,” called the boy in the bow. “We have brought a goose
+and caribou tongues, and we will share them with you.”
+
+[Illustration: “We have brought a goose and caribou tongues, and we
+will share them with you”]
+
+Ani seemed pleased and went for an armful of dry branches--she had not
+eaten goose for so long, and caribou tongue she had almost forgotten.
+She was so slow the boys went to help her, and gathered for her a fine
+lot of branches, dry and just the right size to make a quick and hot
+fire. The goose was prepared and strung on a birch branch, as also were
+the tongues, just close enough to the fagots to roast without burning.
+
+“I have no tinder,” said Ani.
+
+“Never mind,” said the boy with the bright, flashing eyes, and with the
+tip of his finger he touched the branches, at which they burst into
+flame, much to the astonishment of Ani.
+
+“Spirits,” thought she, “I’ll not go too near them.”
+
+“Get a gourd,” demanded the other boy in a tone Ani did not like--but
+she obeyed, and brought a fine big one hanging on long strings of
+caribou sinew. She handed it to the boy, and as soon as he had taken
+it, it filled to overflowing with clear, cool water.
+
+“You are children of the Evil Spirit,” said Ani, looking first at one
+and then at the other, and then at the fire.
+
+This remark made the boys laugh.
+
+The goose and tongues were by this time nicely browned, and the edge
+of the fire had spread to a pile of dry leaves. This was put out by
+a gesture of the hand of the boy who had so mysteriously filled the
+gourd. But this Ani had not noticed as she was now anxious to know if
+the boys would make a fair division of the food, as she was growing
+very hungry.
+
+[Illustration: Looking up to her he waved his hand and smiled]
+
+The first boy reached out and tore from the goose a leg dripping
+with rich juice while the other lad took from the stick a dainty
+tongue, and began eating. Ani waited for them to invite her to join in
+the feast, but they did not. This so offended her that she seized the
+nearest boy (who made no resistance) by the hair of the head, and led
+him to the water, pushing him into a deep hole where he sank to the
+bottom. Looking up to her he waved his hand, and smiled, making strange
+faces at the astonished old woman who was too startled to speak. Then
+going back to her tipi, she collected a large armful of leaves and
+piled bundle after bundle of branches until they mounted as high as she
+could reach. Then she went to the other boy with her pipe, pretending
+she wanted to smoke, and asked him to light it, which he did. Then she
+put the fire from her pipe on the ground beneath the great pile and
+blew until a flame burst out, the fire leaping high. Quickly seizing
+the boy, she dragged him to the pile and pushed him into the burning
+mass. He also did not resist, but sat without discomfort in the midst
+of the flames until the fire had burned itself out. Then he shook the
+ashes from his clothing and walked back to his friend who had returned
+from the river, and they finished their meal together.
+
+[Illustration: He sat without discomfort in the midst of the flames]
+
+“Where is the old lady?” asked the boy whom Ani had tried to burn,
+and they went in search, finding her sitting behind an old hut that
+had been deserted before she came to live on the island. She was very
+much worried by their coming, and told them so; but they only smiled,
+and told her she was to have all the goose and the caribou tongues that
+remained, and that they, who were the incarnation of fire and water,
+the elements she needed most, had been sent to her by the spirit of her
+lover to hunt, to make her fire, cook her food, and to water the island
+so berries and herbs would grow--and to do all that fire and water
+could do for her in her old age.
+
+The old Indians who knew Ani said the boys served her in every way
+as long as she lived, and that she was never so happy as when they were
+with her; and some said her young lover came back, and they journeyed
+together to the far-off land that the white man called heaven.
+
+
+
+
+OLD SPOT AND THE CUPIDS
+
+
+Arachnida, or “Spotted Spider,” the name given him by his neighbor
+Yuti, who lived at the edge of the trail not far from the bear’s den,
+had grown so large, and his legs so long that his snare was no longer
+strong enough to bear his weight. Once in a while he would go back to
+it, make a few extra turns, spin stronger strands, and try it out; but
+it was no use, down it came every time he tried. After repairing it, he
+would say to himself, “Never again.” Then he would go back to the dark
+cave in the ledge that for many years had been the home of his friend,
+Bruin, who had wandered away, and had never returned. Nor did any one
+know of his whereabouts.
+
+Old Spot, though having really no claims by right of possession to
+Bruin’s premises, felt he was not trespassing. He had always been on
+the most intimate terms with him, and had served him in many ways,
+recalling how often he had nursed him when Black Bear had feasted,
+not wisely, but too well in the garden of Yuti, who had cultivated a
+well-ordered patch bordering the woodland near his lodge.
+
+Yuti suspected Bruin--in fact had seen him leaving the patch where the
+corn grew several nights before he had gone away; but being on friendly
+terms with Spot, who was very devoted to Bruin, he never made any
+complaint, feeling it was better to live in accord with his neighbors
+rather than to plant the seed of hostility. “Bruin was hungry, so let
+him eat. The sun and rain will cause more corn to grow.” This is what
+Yuti would say.
+
+Old Spot had always lived alone, weaving his snare in the most likely
+place for his prey, just at the beginning of the trail as it entered
+the wood, and in good view of his apartment in the ledge. His spinners
+and spinnerets had the reputation of making the strongest silk thread
+in that vicinity.
+
+Of course, Spot was proud of this, but he was getting on in years--some
+of his twelve eyes were losing focus, and he sometimes felt, though
+not always, with Bruin away and Yuti not as sociable as he would have
+liked him to be, that life did not have much attraction for him. His
+mandibles did not serve him with the same dexterity that they had
+possessed when he was younger, when he tried to seize his prey and
+squeeze it: this depressed him. There were also symptoms of rheumatism
+in two or three of his many legs, causing troublesome and disagreeable
+pains; and having many legs and long ones, the chances were that his
+suffering would be much more serious than if they had been fewer and
+shorter.
+
+Knowing that these symptoms without doubt meant the approach of age,
+he became very blue at times, and for days would not stir from his
+quarters to see if his snare held any food for him.
+
+For two days and as many nights he slept with his long slender legs
+wrapped about him. The fall was coming on and he would often wake
+himself by chilly shudders, the nights being very, very cold. On the
+morning of the third day he was wakened by a strange noise. The sound
+came from the direction of his snare, but knowing that the young fox
+and the lynx made noises like real babies he paid little heed. Changing
+his position because three of his hind legs had gotten tangled, he
+settled again for another sleep of a day or two. Again the sounds like
+those of a crying child disturbed him, and again he said to himself:
+
+“It’s only a young thing that has strayed from its mother.”
+
+Before he had finished thinking, the cries became louder and more
+appealing; so Spot, being of a kindly nature, though age had hardened
+him as it does so many, decided to investigate.
+
+He had been in one position so long that his legs, or a half-dozen of
+them, refused to work as he would like to have had them; but being very
+hungry from his long fast, he drew himself together, and with a big
+effort and a bigger grunt, stood up, stretched himself, and walked to
+the entrance to his den.
+
+Just as he poked his face out Yuti, who was gathering fagots to make a
+fire to roast a fat rabbit he had snared the night before, called out:
+
+“You’ve got a fine catch this morning.”
+
+[Illustration: “You’ve got a fine catch this morning”]
+
+Spot did not answer. Turning in the direction of his snare that was
+stretched from either side of the trail, attached to as fine a pair
+of white birches as ever plumed a wood, he beheld two creatures with
+great, tapering wings, beating and struggling for freedom, making at
+the same time, wee, shrill cries that caused Spot to hurry his pace.
+
+His first thought was for the safety of his snare.
+
+“Here’s a pretty mess,” thought he. “How shall I ever repair it?”
+
+All the time Spot was hobbling toward the strange, struggling things,
+their cries increased. They were real heart-piercing cries. The more
+they shrieked the more they struggled, and alas, poor Spot’s snare was
+being torn to ribbons.
+
+The cries were so terrifying that Spot was just a bit frightened, but
+having been always very courageous, he rather resented the feeling of
+timidity, and, quickening his steps, he approached the destroyers and
+the destroyed.
+
+“Bears and beetles!” ejaculated Spot, “What have I caught this time?”
+
+Fast in the lashings of his great web a brace of Cupids were beating
+their splendid wings vigorously against his snare. As he came near they
+cried more lustily.
+
+“Where does so much sound come from?” thought Spot, looking at their
+rosy, plump little bodies.
+
+Seeing Spot approaching them, they cried all the louder; but observing
+his venerable and kindly face, they suddenly became quiet, waiting to
+see what was to be their fate.
+
+“Well, my children,” said Spot in a gentle tone, “you’ve made a pretty
+kettle of fish of my only means of securing food. Where did you come
+from, and what are your names?”
+
+“Get us out of this tangle and we’ll tell you all about it,” said the
+Cupids in chorus.
+
+Old Spot gathered the end of a long strand of spider silk that was
+floating with the wind, and began to wind.
+
+“Hurry!” said one of the little prisoners. Spot hurried as fast as he
+could, but the faster he worked his spinner the oftener he broke the
+thread.
+
+“Be patient,” said Spot, “The more haste the less speed.”
+
+“Yes, but I’m cramped,” said the Cupid who was bound tighter than his
+mate, as he struggled to free himself. Part of the great web fastened
+to the birches began to sag from the weight of the chubby little
+victims.
+
+“Have a heart,” commanded Spot in a sterner voice than before. “There
+will be nothing left of my trap if you don’t keep quiet.”
+
+“But you are so slow,” observed the one with four dimples on his hand.
+
+At last the sticky threads were tightly bound on Spot’s spinners, and
+the poor tired little chubs, being free, stood up, slowly moving their
+wings that had been so ruffled and mussed by old Spot’s food-catcher.
+
+“You asked our names and where we came from,” straightening out their
+wings and adjusting a few shaggy feathers.
+
+“Yes,” said Spot, scratching his head with his hindermost leg in
+meditation.
+
+“Cupid is our name. We have no home.”
+
+“No home?” echoed Spot. “What is your other name?”
+
+“We have no other name, it’s just Cupid.”
+
+“That’s news to me,” said Spot thoughtfully, adding:
+
+“Aye, aye! You’re the little chaps that make a lot of trouble in the
+world. I’ve heard of you very often.”
+
+“Yes, and a lot of happiness,” they replied timidly, in a voice not
+bigger than a wren’s.
+
+Again the little fellows flapped their splendid wings, that were
+gradually getting back to their original form.
+
+“Not quite so much breeze; I’m very sensitive to drafts,” pled Spot,
+eyeing the pair with a feeling of pity.
+
+“No father or mother? Poor kiddies,” thought he.
+
+“You have always been alone?”
+
+“Always,” they replied.
+
+“Have you nothing to wear to keep you warm?”
+
+“Nope,” they replied, shivering just a little, seeing old Spot was
+being moved to sympathy.
+
+“We’ll see about that,” he said. “Come over to my house, and I’ll build
+a fire for you.” So over they all went to Spot’s den.
+
+“What a delightful place,” said the Cupids, looking around.
+
+“You like it, do you?” said Spot.
+
+“It’s very cosy,” said they as they entered the den, and cuddled in
+one corner where the leaves had blown in as if to make a comfortable
+bed for them.
+
+“Would you like to make your home with me?”
+
+They looked at each other with an expression of pleasure, each
+anticipating the reply of the other to be “Yes.”
+
+“Would you let us?”
+
+Spot did not reply, he was so deep in thought. “What delightful little
+things to have around,” he almost said aloud.
+
+“Would you let us?” they repeated.
+
+“I’d be glad to have you,” trying not to express too much emotion, as
+he was pleased beyond all measure at the thought of having them for his
+companions.
+
+“What shall we do about our wings; they are so terribly in the way,” as
+they tried to adjust them so they would not scrape the rough wall of
+the cave.
+
+“If you want them clipped my friend Yuti can attend to that,” said Spot.
+
+“Would it hurt?” they asked.
+
+“I think not.”
+
+“All right; can we have it done now?”
+
+“We’ll go and see if Yuti is at home,” replied Spot, looking in the
+direction of Yuti’s moose-skin lodge.
+
+Over they went across the cleared land, where they found Yuti mending
+his moccasins.
+
+“I’ve a job for you,” called Spot, as Yuti looked up very much
+bewildered at the sight that to him was startling.
+
+“I’ve a little job for you, Yuti,” repeated Spot. “Get your tomahawk
+and clip the wings of my little friends.”
+
+Yuti looked at Spot and then at the Cupids. “What a strange request,”
+he thought.
+
+Then Spot took Yuti aside and told him about his strange experience,
+and Yuti only smiled, saying nothing.
+
+Going to his lodge he got his tomahawk and led the party to an old
+oak stump. Then taking the Cupid standing nearest to him, he gently led
+him to the stump and placed his wing upon it. With one stroke off it
+came.
+
+“My! that was easy,” said his interested companion, looking to see if
+it hurt.
+
+“Now the other,” said Yuti, and Cupid turned around.
+
+Down came the strong arm of Yuti, and off came the other wing.
+
+“What a relief,” sighed the little fellow, now free of his troublesome
+appendages. The other Cupid moved toward the stump. It was but the work
+of a few seconds and all was over.
+
+[Illustration: It was but the work of a few seconds and all was over]
+
+Reaching up and each taking one of Yuti’s hands in his, the tiny
+fellows thanked him; then the little party started back to the den.
+
+On their arrival the conversation became more general and less
+constrained, all becoming better acquainted.
+
+“Something must be done about your clothing; we are liable to have snow
+any day,” said Spot, in a tone burdened with solicitude, for spiders
+have the reputation of being kind to their young and those they like,
+even though the lady-spider sometimes devours her husband in a fit of
+anger.
+
+“Let’s go down to the snare and see how much there is left of it,” he
+continued. “If it can’t be repaired I’ll have to weave another, for
+clothing you must have.” After surveying the mass of tangled threads,
+they decided it would be best to make a new web.
+
+For days Spot worked upon it. Then he began the patterns for the
+suits. Up and down, under and over, he wove, warp and woof, doubling it
+and twisting the threads so that the garments would be warm; drawing
+close and tight the strands that formed the strange little affairs to
+be worn by his Cupids--perhaps the only Cupids that ever wore clothes.
+
+They would sit in admiration. “How really clever old Spot is,” they
+remarked.
+
+[Illustration: “How really clever Old Spot is”]
+
+As the wonder garments neared completion, he added pockets, and made
+openings through which the little wings that were left could pass.
+
+Realizing how good he was to them, they decided to be very helpful and
+to serve him in every way possible as long as he lived, which was to be
+for a very long time. When strangers passed and saw the little things
+sitting close to Spot, some would ask: “How is it that their wings are
+so small?”
+
+Then Spot would smile and say: “The reason Cupids have no wings is
+because--they do not want them.” And then Spot would look at the Cupids
+and the Cupids would look at Spot, and they would giggle; but Spot
+would look serious. Of course, the strangers did not understand the
+cause of their merriment.
+
+Sometimes when Spot put the Cupids to bed, and covered and tucked
+them in with sweet grasses and scented moss flowers to keep them warm,
+he would sit beside them when the tree-toad whistled his night song,
+and wonder if they had their large wings again, whether they would fly
+away, and leave him all alone.
+
+
+
+
+THE UNDERWATER PEOPLE
+
+
+One evening in the fall of the year, far-away in the North, on the
+shores of a great lake, there were sitting around the camp-fire a party
+of Beaver Indians. The winter had already set in, for the ice comes
+early, and it is very cold when the sun has gone to rest.
+
+Hocini, the oldest man of the party, had fallen asleep. Around the
+moose-skin tents were scattered bits of wood, dried fish hung on racks,
+and five dogs, used in winter for drawing moose and caribou, were
+sleeping as near as they dared to be, to the warm fire, for the Indians
+are very cruel to their dogs, who really are very good to work so hard
+for masters who do not allow them to get near enough to the fire to
+warm themselves. The hoot owls had begun to make their strange noises
+and open their big, round eyes, for night was their day, and they must
+hunt food when they could see best, which was in the dark.
+
+Away on the far-flung reaches of the hills the wolf began to cry
+and moan. He is a big animal of grayish color, sometimes seven and a
+half feet from the tip of his tail to his nose-end. Many say he came
+originally from Siberia when there was a land crossing from Alaska to
+Siberia, and that his great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers and
+many of his relations way back in the years of long ago came to visit
+our Northland, and liked it so much they did not return to the land of
+their birth. That land is now divided from Alaska by the waters that
+flow from the Arctic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, so if he did ever want
+to go back to visit his relations in Siberia, he would have to swim,
+for no craft that go to Siberia for furs would care to have him for a
+passenger as he has a bad disposition, and cannot be depended upon when
+he is hungry.
+
+While the Indians were sitting by the fire they suddenly saw a man
+passing along in the dusk. He was carrying on his back a strange
+blanket which was sewn with caribou sinew for thread, as the Indians
+had no cotton thread. It was made of dozens and dozens of muskrat
+skins covered with fish-scales all sorted as to color and size, and
+the lining was made of many, many squirrel-skins also covered with
+fish-scales, which were also well matched for color, making a beautiful
+and very warm water-proof covering for his body.
+
+[Illustration: They suddenly saw a man passing along in the dusk]
+
+“Where are you going and what are you going to do?” asked an old man of
+the tribe.
+
+“I’m going to become a young man again,” he replied.
+
+“How will you do that?” asked another old person.
+
+“We will go with you,” said one of the party, “for we like youth, for
+then we can hunt the beaver and moose in far-away mountains.”
+
+“Do as you please,” the stranger replied indifferently.
+
+“Let us go,” said a young brave to two of his brothers-in-law, and they
+got up and went to their tents to get their bows and quivers and long
+hunting moccasins, for it had rained in the morning, and the ground was
+not yet dry.
+
+The stranger called to them, “Hurry!” and seemed out of sorts; but the
+Indians paid no attention to his mood and smiled at his haste.
+
+After saying good-by to their people, they joined the stranger and
+walked through a dark wood until they came to a lake shore. Suddenly
+the strange man who had been walking ahead of them, said: “Xwui!” and
+went through a hole in the ice to the bottom of the deep lake where his
+wife and many children were awaiting him. He did not greet his wife as
+though he was fond of her, and to one of his children he said roughly:
+
+“Tell the men on the shore to do as I have done.”
+
+So the three men went to the hole through which the stranger had gone,
+and dove to the bottom. Then they walked to a settlement on the sands
+of the lake where there were many tents made of all kinds of skins--of
+moose, caribou, white deer, muskrat, lynx, beaver, and many skins the
+Indians had never seen before--and around the tents, walking about,
+were many people, who did not look at them.
+
+The children of the strange Underwater Man would take bits of tough
+grass and make fish snares. Then they would wait for a big fish to
+come swimming along, swishing his tail and looking many ways with his
+strange eyes. The children would hold out the snare, saying, “To nai,”
+which means “fish” in the beaver language. Then the fish would swim
+into the snare and be caught, and would say, as he wriggled to free
+himself, “Do ha-s tei-ul tuk,” which means, “Do not kill me.” Then the
+children would take the fish to their mother, and she would cook it on
+hot stones that lay near a spring of boiling water that came from the
+bed of the lake.
+
+[Illustration: “Do ha-s tei-ul tuk,” which means “Do not kill me”]
+
+The stranger called to the three men to come to his tent and eat. They
+did so, and he shared the fish with them.
+
+Suddenly some one stepped on the foot of the man who had asked his
+brothers-in-law to go with the stranger. He looked up, and saw a giant
+frog standing on his left foot. He could not believe his own eyes, for
+he had never seen a frog so large. The frog said to him:
+
+“I was once a man like yourself, but years ago, while picking
+berries on the shore of the lake, I fell into the water and became a
+frog. I have the secret, and if you wish to become a frog who can live
+both on land and in the water, which has its advantages, I will tell
+you where you can get some wonderful berries, red and sweet. Eat of
+them and lie down on the bottom of the lake, and after you have been
+sound asleep you will awake and be as you see me.”
+
+[Illustration: He looked up and saw a giant frog standing on his left
+foot]
+
+The man who owned the beautiful blanket was angered that the frog had
+given the secret to them, and said: “I do not like it that the minds of
+your people are so intent on us.”
+
+As the visitors were growing very short of breath from being so long
+under water, they said: “We will return to our people, but must go in a
+canoe as the water is making us ill.” So the Underwater Man loaned them
+an old canoe.
+
+“Take care how you use my canoe, for it is not very good,” he called to
+them in a warning way. They paddled nearly to the shore. Then the canoe
+melted away. The men swam for the land, but when they reached it one
+was missing. The other two believed that their brother was dead, but as
+they sat on a big rock they saw his head appear and reappear, and once
+when his head was above water he called:
+
+“I am held by the frog. Help me!” So the two swam out, but when they
+came near to the man he said:
+
+“Go back; I am free, the frog has gone!”
+
+The men swam ashore and stood up. When they looked again they saw a
+great jack-fish--they could not see their brother. The jack-fish swam
+toward them and walked on its tail upon the shore. Like magic it turned
+into a man, and they all returned to the camp, to tell the wonders of
+their adventure.
+
+Suddenly the old man who had gone to sleep began to groan and cry
+out. His wife, who was also very old, said: “Hocini, my husband, is
+dreaming.” The old man then woke up and said in a frightened way: “The
+frog, the frog. Where is he?” and his wife said:
+
+“Poor old man, the frog is in the lake,” and Hocini said: “I have been
+dreaming again,” and his wife said “Yes,” and laughed, and so did the
+old man.
+
+
+
+
+WATC’ AGIC KILLS THE TALKING-BIRDS
+
+
+Once there was a man who wandered all over the earth. He had as his
+companions many kinds of birds who could not, or would not, talk
+or sing without his consent. He was a man who talked little but
+thought much, and noises worried him, especially the noises made by
+talking-birds like the parrot and the magpie.
+
+[Illustration: Once there was a man who wandered all over the earth]
+
+In his wanderings he would meet many kinds of people who did not
+like him, because when they spoke to him he would only say “Yes” or
+“No” to any questions they would ask. Of course, his attitude toward
+all he met made them angry, and when he visited the villages the second
+time, many of the Indians threatened to kill him. The places in which
+he thought he would be in the most danger he would go around and not
+show himself or his bird companions, for he was very kind to them, and
+they held him in great respect, although he had told them he would
+surely rid himself of their company if they should talk so loud that
+his enemies could hear them. They also feared him, for many times had
+they seen the way he had treated other birds, and they knew what his
+mission was.
+
+One day, after a long walk, they came to the foot of a high hill.
+Around the hill and coming from afar, they could see great numbers of
+birds.
+
+“This,” said the man, “is the ‘City of Birds,’ and no man dare go among
+them. If he should, they would pick his eyes out. Many times have I
+heard my father tell of his band of beavers who went among them, and of
+their fate.”
+
+“Let us go!” spoke up a great eagle. “I will defend you. My parents’
+nest was on yonder mountain, and I have many relations living among
+them.”
+
+“As you will,” said the man, “but let us wait until night falls and
+they are asleep.”
+
+The eagle had been talking matters over with his companions, and they
+all, with the exception of a few of the smaller birds, decided to go,
+happen what might. So at dusk they started.
+
+The road was long and dusty, and many times they had to wait for the
+vain birds to clean their plumage and arrange their feathers, but it
+was better so, because many of the older birds of the City of Birds
+had not returned to their nests. The man, although impatient, thought
+they might have been discovered if this cause for their delay had not
+happened.
+
+As they approached the city, a night-hawk who was just going to
+work, gave a wild scream. This caused a great awakening in the town,
+and all the birds went to the public square in alarm.
+
+The eagle said “Go on.” So the party boldly went among the crowd.
+Some, I can assure you, were very much frightened; but they had great
+confidence that some of the relations of the eagle would be living, and
+would no doubt befriend them.
+
+When the mayor of the town, a great pelican, saw the strange bundle the
+man carried on his back, he said: “My good brother, what have you on
+your back?”
+
+[Illustration: “My good brother, what have you on your back?”]
+
+“They are my songs,” the man replied.
+
+“Ah!” said the mayor, “sing them, and I will have my troupe of dancing
+flamingoes keep time to your songs.”
+
+“Those who dance to my songs, and those who do not, if strangers to
+me, must keep their eyes shut when I sing,” said the man.
+
+The mayor called to the crowd that was chattering so loud his voice
+could hardly be heard. So he called again:
+
+“Do you agree, my townsmen?”
+
+He opened his mouth so wide that a great fish he had eaten for supper
+floundered out of his pouch. Before repeating his question he leaned
+over and picked it up. Again he repeated, “Do you all agree to keep
+your eyes closed when the gentleman sings?”
+
+“We will do as you desire,” many of them replied.
+
+So it was agreed. A great fountain in the middle of the square
+contained many fish both large and small. These fish were for the use
+of the mayor only, as he was getting old, and to climb the long hill
+from the river made him both tired and cross. So the man said:
+
+“Come near the fountain. My songs are of running water and brooks,
+and it will inspire me to sing them more to your pleasure.”
+
+So the crowd moved near the big basin full of water, deep and very wet.
+
+“Bring your flamingoes and I will begin,” said the man.
+
+The eagle called him aside and said: “During your song they will know
+because their eyes are shut, how dark it is for the thousands they have
+made blind.” The man did not reply, but walked close to the fountain.
+
+“Eyes shut!” he called loudly, and the people all closed their eyes and
+he began to sing in a harsh voice, for he could not sing, and disliked
+any kind of music.
+
+    “I will sing of Mayor Pelican,
+      And of his pretty daughter,--
+    And of a dashing pelican
+      Who in matrimony sought her.
+    And while I sing I’ll wring your necks,
+      And throw you in the water.”
+
+[Illustration: And he began to sing in a harsh voice]
+
+All the people smiled but kept their eyes closed, fearing he would stop
+his funny song. So he continued to wring their necks and throw them
+into the deep water of the fountain.
+
+After he had treated them all alike, he said to his companions:
+
+“We are quite safe now; let us remain here until morning, as there are
+many places of shelter and plenty of food.”
+
+So it was agreed, and they resumed their journey about dawn the
+following day.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s Notes
+
+
+ • Italics represented with surrounding _underscores_.
+
+ • Small caps converted to ALL CAPS.
+
+ • Duplicate half title before first chapter removed.
+
+ • Illustrations relocated close to relevant content.
+
+ • Footnote numbered and moved below the relevant paragraph.
+
+ • Obvious typographic errors silently corrected.
+
+ • Variations in hyphenation kept as in the original.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76997 ***